#i rushed my nearly forgotten english homework

[kameyyy]

it feels weird not posting so erm hi guys

[sodadrabbles]

hear me out- one more littleboo but like if they were crying or like going through smt and ranboo just helps//comforts them if that makes sense? GEHDDH okay have a good day :]

THE PEOPLE DEMAND HURT/COMFORT. I SHALL FEED YOU, MY PEOPLE

Also, I wanted to address why I use ‘Ranboo’ in these fics, when referring to the actual CC- We don’t know Ranboo’s real name. I want to respect his wishes and not speculate, because that’s creepy. So, I just use Ranboo. A couple people were asking in my inbox. I know Tubbo said his name was Mark, but that was never confirmed, and, again, I don’t want to speculate on his personal information, that’s WEIRD.

LIttleboo IV: Hurt/comfort or bust.

Pairing: Ranboo x sibling!Reader (gender-neutral)!

Rating: Soft. Bad ending, I’m so sorry (NOT ANGST, IM JUST BAD AT WRITING)

Summary: Being a freshman sucks ass, but Ranboo bought taco bell, it’s all good.

To say today was a bad day would be an understatement. It was probably the most terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day of your 14-year-old life. The whole day the universe would launch bad thing after bad thing at you, as if it was somehow testing you in your will to deal with bullshit. Like it was asking you ‘What are you willing to put up with today?’

Your answer was ‘Not fucking this.’

You woke up to your brother shaking you softly, telling you the power had gone out and you were both late. For an upperclassman this wasn’t a big deal- But you were a freshman. Your teachers were going to give you absolute hell for being late, and knowing Ranboo was going to get off scot-free made you a little salty. You had to skip breakfast and had to leave with your hair still a bit messy, barely able to comb through it with your fingers while Ranboo drove you both to school.

Then there was a pop quiz first period- English. You were never terrible at english, but being on the topic of the last three chapters of the book you were reading for class- Chapters which you had not read yet- The test had been a little difficult. Not to mention the hunger clawing at your stomach, and the strange fog that was settled about your thoughts.

You thought you could catch a break through second period and lunch, knowing Chemistry would be an easy day and you could grab something good with your brother, but fate had other plans in mind.

During Chemistry, you were tasked with picking a partner and completing an experiment afterthought worksheet, going over the experiment you had done in class the day before. You were paired with the nice girl sat next to you- At least you thought she was nice. As the teacher dismissed the class to begin talking amongst themselves, you turned to start asking her how her experiment went yesterday. You didn’t have a chance to ask, however, as the girl snapped at you harshly. “Don’t even bother! I’m not doing this assignment. Do it on your own.”

Her voice was pitched and loud, and it caused you to wince back. You tilt your head and try to ask her, but she cuts you off by flicking the paper in your direction. It sends both your papers flying, and you try to catch them, but fail miserably and fall out of your chair unceremoniously. As you fall, your foot comes up to counter balance and you nearly kick the girl in the head- Keyword being nearly. You were sure you were able to stop yourself, and hadn’t touched it, but still the girl screeches and begins screaming bloody murder. The teacher comes over to check what’s going on, the girl sobbing and holding her head.

And then she lies through her teeth.

“Sir, she just kicked me! I was just asking about her experiment and she kicks me!”

She’s sobbing dramatically, and though you’re clearly not at fault, considering it was clear you had fallen out of your chair. Even still the teacher sides with her, giving you a short and disappointing talk about violent behaviour in the classroom, ending with “I have no choice but to give you lunch detention and a zero on the assignment.”

You don’t try to argue- Exhaustion was already settling on your body and you didn’t want to just make the situation worse than it already was. The rest of second period dragged on like a snail. You sat awkwardly at your table, twiddling your thumbs and staring at the walls. You could feel eyes boring into the back of your skull with each passing glance at the students. A few whispers that seemed much too loud yet indecipherable hitting your ears, somehow knowing deep in your soul that the other students were whispering about you. By the time the lunch bell rang you were starting to feel tears prick at your eyes as your own thoughts betrayed you.

During lunch detention, you were at the very least allowed your phone. You texted your brother, alerting him that you had lunch detention. He promised to bring you food before your third period began- The gesture brought a smile to your face. Your third period was your favorite, because Ranboo was also taking that class. US History. You were able to push through detention with Philza’s stream, starting a TTS war with Wilbur in the time you were able to watch. Of course, mentioning you were in detention earned you a little rant from Phil, not doing much to better your mood.

When third period came down to bless you, you could feel the tears welling in your eyes at the happy sight of your tall older brother holding a taco bell bag in his hand. You basically tackled him, nearly knocking him to the ground. His arms flew around you for stability, and you gripped the back of his shirt as an involuntary sob came out of your mouth. 

Ranboo stared down at you with his brows furrowed with concern, his mouth pulled into a tight frown. He pushed you to the side to allow other students to get into the classroom, and released you from the hug to look you in the face. Your eyes were puffy and your cheeks and nose were red, stray tears still rolling down your cheeks. He wiped one away.

“(Y/N), what happened? Why are you crying?” He asked, your eyes avoiding him. You hated to cry in front of people- But the stress of the day weighed heavy on your shoulders. You had just gotten too excited. When you explained this, Ranboo shook his head. “(Y/N) it’s perfectly okay, you don’t have to apologize.”

He hugged you again, and you hugged him back. After standing there for a moment, the annoying ring of the school bell sounded overheard, alerting you that class was starting.

“Tell you what,” Ranboo beamed at you, picking up the bag of food. “We’re gonna go in there, annoy Mr. Anderson, and eat chalupas until we explode. Sound good?”

You smile and nod your head. God, your older brother is so cool.

---

The rest of the day was smooth as it could be. You spent all of third period messing around with Ranboo- The assignment given for the day forgotten as homework that you would sit down and do together before Ranboo had to stream. You feared that your fourth period, Algebra, would once again break you down into a ball of anxiety and terror. But to your pleasant surprise, you would be watching a movie with a substitute for that class.

Your mood had been significantly raised by the time the bell had rung, releasing you from the confines of the building. You packed your things quietly, the hustle and bustle of an emptying school occupying your senses. You had rushed down through the hallways towards to doors leading to student parking. Ranboo was supposed to be waiting for you at the car.

But before you could reach the door, you felt a hand grip your bag, pulling you backwards. Your feet flew out from under you as you fell to the ground, your bag being ripped from your shoulders. You felt you back collide with the cold, tiled ground, pain shooting through spine. 

Shrill giggling sounds from above you. You groan and roll onto your front, staring up at a group of three girls laughing at you. You recognized the one holding your bag from your chemistry class. By the looks of the other two, they were also freshmen. You try to get on your feet, but the girl swings her leg, knocking your hands out from under you. You feel something press against your back. 

The girl from your class laughs as she bends down to look at you. “You thought you could get away with that little stunt?” She sneers, her hand grabbing your face. Not able to think of anything else to do, you snap your jaws, nearly biting her. She screeches and backs away.

“DID YOU JUST TRY TO BITE ME?” She screams, her face twisted in disgust. You feel the presume on your back worsen, and you strain your neck to see who was standing on your back. You recognized the guy as a junior on the soccer team. You vaguely recalled the girl mentioned she was dating a guy on the soccer team. 

You squirm, freeing your hands from underneath you. Just as you were about to grab the guy’s leg, you hear a familiar voice shout. The three girls in front of you scatter like rats- But the soccer player stays. He turns to look at whoever shouted, his chest puffing out as if he’s prepared for a fight. However the color seems to drain from his face when he sees the mystery person- And he runs away like a dog with its tail between its legs.

As you start to stand, someone grabs you by the shoulders and helps you up. You’re met with the mop of brown hair and concerned gray eyes of your older brother. He helps you to your feet, handing you your bag. You thank him as you throw the bag over your shoulders, giving your older brother a tight hug.

You don’t even realize there were tears in your eyes again, until Ranboo tells you to dry your eyes. “Sorry…” You whisper, hand wiping away the water. “I don’t know why I’m crying.

Ranboo smiles at you again, his hand patting the top of your head. You smile at him too, and he leads you out of the school, asking if you’re alright or if anything hurts. You spend the walk to the car feeling grateful you have someone to help you out like that. It has you smiling to entire ride home.

[warpriest-writings]

Red eyes on Grandmother's grave. 

    Sticks broke under her feet, running as fast and hard as she could but it felt like running through jelly, her feet caked in heavy mud. 

“Someone! Help me!!! Please!” She cried out but couldn’t hear her own voice.

Before her was the pair of sharp, red eyes out in the middle distance. She couldn’t make out a face; she wasn’t even sure if the eyes were attached to anythin, just floating there, haunting her. Those hungry, starved eyes that wanted to devour her. The eyes just hung there as she sat there frozen. 

“What do you want!?” she screamed out, but again her words came out silent. 

The sharp, red eyes narrowed, then rushed towards her as a hand reached out at her.

With a difficult, almost pained, inhalation of breath, Patsy woke with a startled jump, accidently knocking her kitty out of bed.

She gasped, “Bean! Come here. Mweh, mweh.” She made kissy noises to her large Maine Coon. Rubbing her fingers together as she did so attempting to soothe Bean and entice her to come back into the bed. Not that Bean needed much convincing; no one in the Desoto household could remember a single night that cat hasn’t slept in Patsy’s bed. By the time she got Bean back in bed and started petting her, Patsy had almost entirely forgotten her nightmare about the...was she running? Regardless, after several minutes of kitty snuggles, she checked her phone, loathing to discover that it was 5:53, merely thirty minutes before her alarm would have gone off anyway.

Of course, she wouldn’t have been lucky enough to wake up from her scary dream at a reasonable 1:17, or even a moderate 3:32. Good, god given times in the early morning a girl could go back to sleep too. Patsy sighed and entered an anxious state of contemplation, debating getting in the shower now and getting that out of her morning routine or laying there, blissfully enjoying the time before she had to get up for real. An absolute miserable time that went on in her head until her alarm went off. Ah, yes, neither productive nor relaxing. Thank you, Anxiety.

Getting out of bed with a less than encouraging groan, Patsy began her morning routine. Feeling emotionally and mentally exhausted by 6:45 AM, Patsy walked briskly down the stairs while putting her long and bouncy kinky hair into a ponytail.

“Morning, Mom!” 

Her mom, Elana, looked back at her as some toast popped out of the toaster, “Hey, Sweetheart!”

Joseph, her dad, poured two cups of coffee before handing one to his wife as she handed him the plate of now buttered toast. “Hey, Pats. Finished your homework last night?” Giving Elana a quick kiss.

“Course, Dad,” she said, silently beaming that her parents were still happily married after nearly sixteen years; it was more than could be said about several of her friends at school.

Her mother was the manager at a local small diner, it was a nice little place, near enough to her school that Patsy would usually walk there at the end of the day and hang out with her friends or finish her homework before her mom’s shift ended at six when the night manager came in. Her father worked from home, and studied. Technically, he was still a student at the University of Illinois, but he worked a lot of sub contracted programming and coding jobs on the side. Once she asked him why he was still in college and his reply was, “Sometimes people are just...nervous about getting out there, and sometimes you just so happen to be very good at filling out grant applications. Your momma has a steady job that takes care of us, and my work on the side makes sure we stay in the green.” 

“Need a ride to school today, Pats?” her dad said, snapping Patsy out of it.

“I’m good; I kinda want some time to just think,” she told him.

“It’d be nothing, it’s getting colder out and I love driving my babygirl to-”

“Joseph,” her mother interrupted.

He backed down, “Alright, alright. Letting Pats be all independent.” 

“Thanks, Dad. I think I’ll have breakfast at school today, I’m going to get going,” Patsy said.

Joseph began reaching into his pocket, “Need money?”

“I’m good, I still have twenty from helping out at the diner.”

“Now hold on, that’s your money. It’s our job to feed you,” he said, and offered her a five, “Take it, and make sure you grab an apple or an orange or something those school food scientist freaks can’t turn into half-baked prison sloop."

Patsy nodded, “Okay, okay.” She took the money, then gave her dad a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, “Love you, mom. Love you, dad.” Then grabbed her backpack from a kitchen table chair and made her way to the door, only partially catching what her dad was saying about Patsy being braver than he was for voluntarily eating school food.

From her house it was roughly a twenty-minute walk to school. Normally, she would have jumped at the opportunity for a quick ride to school, but her mind was still preoccupied by that dream. Most of it was lost, faded just beyond her consciousness’s reach. Those red eyes; Patsy could still see them crystal clearly in her mind. She could almost feel them on her back now. Patsy shuttered at the thought.

As she walked she barely heard the wizzing of bike tires until they were right behind her, lost in her thoughts Patsy made a sound reminiscent of an “Eek!” and jumped off to the grass beside the sidewalk. The biker slowed to a stop, “Miss. Pascala, are you alright?”

He knew her name? Patsy looked at the biker, as she had been largely looking at her moving feet up until that point and the fact that from her perspective the biker was right in front of the morning sun, she had to squint and couldn’t really make out his face, “Uh, yes. I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Hmm?” he took off his helmet, revealing quite the head of curly locks, “Miss. Pascala, a little out of it this morning?”

As her eyes adjusted she suddenly realized, “OH! Mr. Morales, sorry. It was all sunny, and I was kinda lost in my thoughts, and I’ll just stop talking now.”

Her history teacher looked at her with a bit of a raised eyebrow, “I shall see you in the third period, Miss. Pascala, have a pleasant walk. Homework is due by the end of class.” He awkwardly coughed and rode off, quickly moving into the bicycle lane of the road.

Sometime later, after what is by all rights and definitions a poor excuse of a breakfast that would send Mr. DeSoto into a rambling state of disbelief that this was the best that taxpayer money could do for feeding America’s youth, as well as Patsy’s first hour math class (math first period of the day, she was convinced that the school gods hated her) and her second period economics class where they learned..something, Patsy was sure of that. She remembers taking notes and everything. There was a presentation with slides and everything, so they must have learned something...So after econ was her history class with Mr. Morales.

She liked Mr. Morales, more than her math teacher that’s for sure. “Math is the language of the universe.” She was taking English and French and frankly didn’t feel like she had time for a third language course. Mr. Morales was different, he got swept away with the subject sometimes and seemed to have a real love for it.

“We can learn much from history, but the people who made it weren’t trying to teach morals, and they weren’t thinking about just how important that what they were doing took place in 1776, or during the first or second half of the twelfth century. The past is made up of the actions of people who were concerned with living their lives, and if what they were doing was the right thing to do, or the right thing for them.” Mr. Morales said on the first day of school. He was also just a bit odd. His thick curly hair, a trait he described as indicative of his strong greek heritage, was peppered ever so slightly. Otherwise he held onto his youth remarkably well. looking closer to mid twenties rather than late thirties.

After the class ended, Patsy went up to her teacher, “Uh, Sir, excuse me.”

Mr. Morales looked up from his tablet from which he often powered through novels, “Hmm, yes, Miss. Pascala?”

“I was just going over that pop quiz you handed back today and I would have gotten one hundred percent if you didn’t mark my answer for question two wrong.” She said,

He set his tablet down, “That is usually how people do not get full marks. Allow me to double check that.” He held his hand open.

Patsy handed him the paper, “You see, I’m certain the correct answer is B and I’d like to get full credit.”

“Third century B.C. Yes, you are correct. I’ll be sure to update the gradebook and parent portal to reflect this. Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Miss. Pascala, I imagine I marked everyone else who answered as you did as incorrect as well.”

He handed her back the quiz after remarking her score and immediately wrote a note he then stuck to his computer monitor.

She excused herself and left with a bright smile, making her way to her next class, and then on and so forth with her day. As she was heading towards her computer typing class after lunch (which was not notably better than the breakfast, it is a wonder that these children survive long enough to eat microwaved ramen in college dorms.) She accidentally bumped into the Principle as she was turning a corner.

“Ooft!” She said, feeling like she walked into a lumpy brick wall.

Principal Robertson cleared his throat and looked down his nose at the young lady, “It is not becoming to run down the hails and blindly around corners.”

He had been the principal at her school for well over fifteen years now, and he seemed to live for it. Participating in school spirit events and playing along with the dress up days, at least he did last year. No one wanted to really mention it but over the summer he lost a lot of weight and his skin got paler...greyer was almost more accurate. Hushed rumors said he was diagnosed with some cancer or another but refused to stop working while on chemo and Patsy wasn’t sure what to think of it all. Looking down at her now she wasn’t feeling very comfortable.

“I, uh, I really need to get to class.” Patsy said

The sickly Principal sighed a heavy breath, “Just slow down.”

“Right, of course. Thank you Mr. I mean, Principal Robertson.” With that she took off, carefully walking not-to-quickly.

Passing around the next corner and with her computer lab in sight Patsy let out her own sigh of relief. The bell ringing just steps away, “Whyyyyyyy?” Patsy said in a hushed, exasperated tone.

She quickly rushed into the room and to her seat, hoping maybe she wouldn’t be marked late. The class lesson began and she got to work with her typing program. 

“Hey, Patsy,” Her friend Abby said, “Think your mom would give me a ride home after her shift at the dinner?”

“Course, Abbs.” She replied, “You getting anywhere with these?”

“Not really, my hands know the keyboard but my words per minute is garbage.” Abby said.

“My words per minute is fine, but I have to force myself to type the way that we’re supposed to. It doesn’t help that at home I always just type with my pointer and middle fingers.”

“You type a lot at home?” She asked, “Are you writing something?”

She nearly jumped out of her skin, “No! of course not...I just look up a lot of random stuff when I’m bored.” She must never know.

Abby raised an eyebrow, “Mhm, right.” 

Over the intercom the school receptionist called out, “Pascala DeSoto to the Principal’s office, Pascala DeSoto to the Principal’s office.

Abby winced, and tried to give her a reassuring smile.

She tried to return it, her thoughts were racing. Surely she wasn’t being called down to the Office for accidentally bumping into the Principal in the hallway was she? Why wouldn’t he just take her there right after she did it then? Maybe it wasn’t about anything she did at all. Oh God...what if her dad accidentally started another grease fire trying to make home fries? What if Mom got into an accident on her way to the dinner? Her mind was a beehive that someone just punted halfway across a football field. 

The receptionist must have noticed the worry on her face and gave her a very sweet smile, “Don’t worry about it too much, Sweetie. Just keep your chin up and remember none of this will matter in ten years.” Reassuring words, either her parents were fine or she was just as unsure why she called down Patsy as she was herself.

Bracing herself mentally, Patsy opened the door and pushed it to the magnetic door stopper that held it open.

“Closer the door behind you, Miss. DeSoto.” Principal Robertson said.

Her stomach did an uncomfortable flip, she wasn’t sure why she was feeling so destressed over this. She hadn’t done anything as far as she could remember or mentally justify. She closed the door, getting a last glimpse of Mrs. O'Riley, the nice receptionist.

Run! Every nerve in her body screamed out but she moved forward to sit in the chair opposite Principal Robertson at his desk anyway. He spoke up; she only saw his lips move, the words not landing correctly in her ears.

“I’m sorry, Sir. Could you say that again?” She asked.

His brow furrowed, “I do not care for repeating myself, Miss. Desoto.”

She sank in the chair. “Sorry.”

“And do not mumble. Speak clearly or not at all!” 

Patsy sat back up in her seat in shock, “Principal Robertson, I don’t think you’re allowed to speak to me like that.”

“Do not speak back to me, you’re the one in trouble here.” He said venomously.

Trembling she stood up, “I need to go.”

He got up as well, “I think not, DeSoto. You’ve been hiding really well, tricked everyone but not me.” He licked his upper lip.

A full body chill ran through her entire being and oddly, in retrospect she felt, Patsy really wanted her kitty Bean there. She said, “Principal Robertson, you can’t be serious right now!? Think….think about your wife!”

Robertson frowned hideously, “That bint isn’t important.” He smiled, which was so much more disturbing to the young lady, “not like you, DeSoto, you have been worth all of my effort and patience.”

He reached out for her when the door opened, “Principal Robertson,” called out an all too reassuring voice, “I was wondering if you had the chance to look over those field trip papers I….” His hand less than two inches away from her, Patsy’s whole body was trembling but she couldn’t make her legs run.

Mr. Morales stood in the open doorway, his eyes moving quickly from Patsy to Robertson. “Miss. Pascala, behind me.” He said putting himself between them.

The Principal scowled in frustration, “I’m not entirely sure what you think you are doing, Linus. You are acting like I am some sort of threat to the girl.”

“This doesn’t look good, James.” Mr. Morales replied.

Robertson scowled deeper, and Patsy in that moment of fear and confusion thought his scowl pulled unnaturally at his skin. 

Mr. Morales raised his hands defensively, “What are you?” Striking a serious tone with his voice that she had never heard from her history teacher before. It was a cold voice that set her skin on edge almost as much as Principal Robertson had.

Before her eyes the late fifties Principal of clear declining health grabbed Mr. Morales  and threw him against a glass case containing various trophies for academic and sports accomplishments. Patsy left out a loud scream and Mrs. O’Riley’s own scream wasn’t far behind. 

Later the police officers that responded to the Receptionist's call would ask Patsy what happened next, and she told them the truth. It all happened so fast she wasn’t sure what exactly happened. Mr. Morales, who had bruised ribs, and some cuts from the glass but was thankfully otherwise alright, shouted something that didn’t make sense to her at Robertson and the Principal ran off. She didn’t get to hear what Mr. Morales told them but they questioned him for a good long while. 

School was cancelled early and parents were furiously calling the school board and the district for answers. There was a warrant issued for Robertson, and some people were threatening to pull their kids altogether. No one wants their kids to go to the school where the principal threatened a fifteen year old girl and assaulted a teacher. 

Superintendent Wilkens sent a parent portal wide email that a warrant was formally filed against Mr. Robertson and the police had opened an investigation. In addition to Resource Officer Thomas three more Iron county police officers would be stationed at the school for security and rest assured that school would be open again Friday.

“No, no...this is ridiculous. My daughter was threatened by that man.” Patsy’s dad said to the Superintendent’s secretary. “Don’t put me on hold! ….Yes, I believe that you do have another call coming in. I….” he sighed heavily, and tossed his cellphone into the living room sofa.

“Sweetheart.” Elana said, putting her hands tenderly on Joseph’s shoulders.

“We worked with that man in the ice cream socal last year, Laney.”

Just out of their sight, sitting against the hallway wall Patsy hugged Bean. Now more than ever the tridactyl kitty gave her some comfort. She kept replaying it over in her mind, Robertson’s face looked so...uncanny valley. Elana had tried to reassure her that it was just her mind playing tricks on her, wanting to think that he was somehow less than human because of how he was acting. 

Her phone buzzed, touching the wall it tapped rapidly and loudly and Patsy reactively tried to grab it before her parents noticed.

“Pats? Babygirl, I thought you were laying down.” Her dad said, walking over to her, flipping the hallway light on. “Well, I thought you were scrolling through your phone, pretending to be laying down.”

She gave Bean a little squeeze like when she was littler, “I tried, but I couldn’t take a nap.”

“It’s okay, Pats. How'bout I make up some of my famous root beer floats?”

She slowly nodded, “That would be good.”

“Come on, Patsy.” Elana said, “We can sit at the table while your father makes us a feel better treat.” 

She got up and walked over to the kitchen table, Bean closely trailing her like always. “Hey, think I could maybe sleep in your guys' bed tonight?”

Elana quickly glanced at her husband, the pair of them sharing a whole conversation in a moment.

“Of course, Pats.” Her dad said, “I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.”

“It’ll be like when you crawled in my bed when you were little after a nightmare woke you up.” Elana said.

Her father was scooping ice cream into three tall milkshake glasses as Patsy pulled Elana into a hug, “Thank you for being my mom.” she said softly.

Elana returned the hug, remembering the first time Patsy told that to her and felt the sting of tears in her eyes. She was Pascala's mom, there wasn’t any doubt of that. She didn’t give birth to Patsy though. Her birth mom and Joseph’s first wife passed away when she was less than six months old, an oncoming driver didn’t stop at the red light as she was going through the intersection on her way home from work. Elana was her birth mother’s best friend and Patsy’s godmother. After the funeral she just kept helping Joseph out with Patsy, eventually moving in with them. Joseph and Elana married when she was seven, but she had really always been her mom.

As frustrated as he was with the situation, Joseph did his best to cool down and help Patsy feel better, telling his corny dad jokes he spent hours and hours looking up at his computer desk. 

He spent almost a half hour that night checking and double checking that every door and window was locked that night, as well as making sure their security system was armed. Unlike Patsy, who almost couldn’t sleep without Bean snuggled next to her, Elana found the heavy cat overly warm but she gritted her teeth through it for Patsy’s sake.

The next morning, Thursday, the day after her high school Principal threatened her, assaulted a teacher and just disappeared. She woke up to the smell of her dad making eggs, over cooking them. Elana always made them a little runny. Everything seemed to run by a little slowly. Like she had been jerked out of a deep daydream and couldn’t pull herself entirely out of her own head.

Around noon she and her mom were watching a cartoon as Joseph entered the room on the phone, “I see, well, thank you, Linus. Yes? I’ll ask her now, we were planning on going to the diner for lunch anyway.” He pulled the phone slightly away from his face and turned to the pair on the sofa, “Pats, Mr. Morales is out of the hospital. He asked if it would be alright if he met us at the diner today.”

She let out a huge sigh of relief hearing he was out, that meant he was okay, “Yeah, that sounds good!”

Joseph put the phone back to his face, “She’s okay with it. We’ll see you there at one. Yep, bye, it was good hearing from you too. And...thank you, Linus.” he hung up and put his phone into his pocket. “He said the superintendent pushed the school’s opening back to Monday, I guess we angry few can make a difference.”  

Elana pulled her legs onto the sofa and sat cross legged, turning towards him, “That’s great! I think that’s what WIlken’s should have done from the start, but hey. So we’ll be eating with Patsy’s english teacher?”

“History teacher.” Patsy said, correcting her.

“Linus is also one of my work associates, but yes. He just wants to check in with Pats.”

She nodded, “Alright, I’m going to take a quick shower before we go.” 

She gave Joseph a quick kiss on the cheek as she left the room, her husband replacing her spot on the sofa.

Patsy gave her dad a big hug. “So Mr. Morales is alright?”

“Some cuts and bruises but he sounded alright, he didn’t talk about himself much.” Joseph said.

Before long they were sitting down as Margret, one of the servers at the diner, was bringing over a pot of coffee for Joseph and Elana and a Shirley temple for Patsy. “Hey, Patsy.” the retirement age waitress said, “How’re you holding up?”

“I’m okay, Margret.” She said, putting on a cheerful voice.

“That’s the spirit, I’ll be sure to bring you over the biggest slice of cake.” She said

“Yay cake!”

Elana laughed a little, “We’re going to wait to order, Margie. We’re waiting on another person.”

The older waitress nodded her head slightly, “Sounds good, Laney. I’ll be back in two shakes with your refreshments.” With that she was off to serve some of the other customers, or guests as corporate would like they be referred to.

The three of them chatted while they waited for Mr. Morales, while they did Patsy’s thoughts drifted to the bizarre notion that when you see someone you only ever see at school, or school related events that when you see them out and about in everyday life the person is suddenly almost unrecognizable. Like in those children sitcom shows where someone says “Wait, you mean teachers don’t live at school??” or something else mildly insulting to the audience about their perceived intelligence. Still, Patsy wondered if it was going to be super weird seeing Mr. Morales not just outside of school, but on purpose outside of school. He normally dressed in clean but not ironed dress pants and some sort of long sleeved shirt, either a button up or a sweater; would he be wearing a rock and roll band t shirt and shorts? What if he wears his curly hair in a manbun outside of work? The horror.

It was almost a disappointment when Mr. Morales showed up in tan dress pants and a blue sweater, as well as a sling that held his left arm, some bandaging on his cheek with some purplish bruising around its edges.

“Linus,” her dad said, “Glad you could make it.”

“We’re both just so grateful for what you did yesterday.” Elana said as her husband scooted further into the booth, making room for him.

“Oh, I only did what any good samaritan should have in the situation.” Mr. Morales said, sitting down. “Ah!” He smiled at the pot of coffee sitting on the table, “May I? I’m afraid I skipped my usual morning cup...come to think of it, skipped most of my usual morning routine today.” 

“Go ahead, refills are free.” Patsy said.

“Are they?” He asked with a smile, awkwardly pouring himself a hot cup.

Margret returned, prompting her mom to say that they’ll probably need a few minutes for Mr. Morales to decide what he wants.

“Oh, go ahead.” The teacher reassured, “ I know what I want, a short stack of pancakes, and two pieces of bacon on the chewier side.”

“Oh, alright!” Elana said, “Brunch it is then, I guess we’re ready to order. Patsy, you go first.”

Patsy put in her order, a belgian waffle with strawberries and a lemon poppyseed muffin. Her father ordered the same as Mr. Morales, but he wanted his bacon crispy. Elana ordered two sunny side up eggs and some toast to dunk in the yolk. With that Margaret took off again.

“It just seemed so...out of nowhere.” Patsy said, suddenly.

Surprised, Elana reactively gave her a side hug, “No one ever expects these sorts of things to happen, Sweetheart. All that matters is that you’re safe.”

“Principal Robertson wasn’t...normal, right?” She asked, addressing her teacher.

Mr. Morales avoided her gaze, looking down into his coffee.

“Pats, Robertson wasn’t the man we thought he was, or he changed or something messed up.” her dad said.

“You saw his face too, right Mr. Morales, you asked him what he was.”

Her parents, worried for Patsy, then looked to the teacher they invited out.

“Miss. Pascala, I don’t know what had gotten into him, or what had become of him. That certainly wasn’t the man I have worked with for over two years now, but rest assured. He wasn’t some abnormality, he was a man, a man who revealed himself to be quite the monster.” Mr. Morales said finally, just as their food arrived.

To her parent’s relief, Patsy dropped the subject. They ate and her dad asked Mr. Morales how she was doing in his class.

“She is an ideal student” he told them, “Attentive, curious, she has a mind for nuance, and seems to genuinely want to understand why people did what they had done in the history lessons.” Which unfortunately made her quite uncomfortable, like she was in a parent-teacher conference all of all of a sudden.

As Patsy began to withdraw into herself, Elana asked her, “So, Patsy, is there anything else you’d like to do in town today before we head home?” She hoped to bring Patsy back to the surface of her own mind.

“Huh?” Patsy asked, she heard what her mom said, but her brain hadn’t really processed it yet. Something it usually would do about a split second after someone repeated what they said to her. “Oh, uh...well I was hoping we could go swing by grandma’s grave?” She stated her request with the inflection of a question. Her grandma wasn’t buried very far from where they lived. However, she knew that her dad always had a hard time going. He stayed in the car when they visited her grave a couple weeks before school started.

Joseph swallowed hard, but nodded, “Of course, babygirl.”

Mr. Morales raised an eyebrow, “I didn’t realize you had family buried here. I was under the impression that your family moved here from Louisiana.”

“We did, but Joseph is from here originally, we moved back here after his mother got sick.” Elana explained.

Mr. Morales turned his gaze back to his coffee, “I see.” Patsy could see his eyes darting swiftly like he either realized something or was thinking very swiftly. She felt like she could relate. “Miss. Pascala, Joseph, Elana. Please do not take me for overreaching but I’m not sure it is safe for the three of you to go to a location like that right now. If Robertson is following you it would be quite the place for an ambush.”

“Linus, don’t speak like that in front of my daughter.” Joseph said, something of a warning in his voice. 

“No, dad, it’s alright.” Patsy said, “Mr. Morales, do you really think it’s a bad idea to go to the cemetery?”

Mr. Morales looked to Joseph, who wore an expression that clearly said “Be careful how you say things.” He looked back at Patsy, with a small sigh, “I think, perhaps you should at least wait under after school starts up again Monday? Thank you all for this lovely meal, but I think I should be going. This should cover my food.” He swiftly got up and pulled his wallet out and with just his right hand awkwardly pulled out some bills. Leaving forty dollars on the table as he took off.

“I think you scared him.” Elana said simply, pouring herself another cup of coffee.

They ultimately didn’t go to the cemetery, to both the annoyance and relief of her father. In fact they stayed in for the rest of the day. Watching TV, playing a popular kart racing game which Joseph began quite smuggly. Only to lose to his daughter because of an npc driver launching a nuclear option that blasted him back to third place less than half the track away from victory.

Patsy told her parents that she felt comfortable enough to go to bed in her own room that night, and Elana made chicken parm hero sandwiches. All in all the day drifted by quickly after their lunch with the odd Mr. Morales. It was almost 10 at night when she finally told her parents she was going to bed, and they reaffirmed their own tiredness from the day and wouldn’t be up much longer themselves.

Of course, Patsy wasn’t really going to bed.

She stayed up for hours, just to be sure they had actually fallen asleep. Her dad. Patsy disarmed the security system and left the house, heading straight for the cemetery. She had to see her grandmother’s gravestone. Something about how Mr. Morales reacted just didn’t sit right with her. It had to be around 1:20 in the morning now and it was very dark and while it was brisk out during the day her fingers quickly started going numb and she could see her breath.

The ground of the cemetery was hard and bumpy from thawing into wet muddy ground under the sun during the day. Patsy walked through the cemetery at a brisk pace, wanting to get to her grandma's grave and back before her parents could wake up to find out she snuck out of the house...or worse she was taken by Robertson. The made her stomach clench up, and she began regretting this whole idea. There was a rustling in the bushes and she began to sprint, she felt like running home and forgetting all of this but she was painfully aware she was heading right towards the grave.

She came to a quick stop, looking down at the engraved stone. Ellinore DeSoto, 1961 to 2017. She knelt down, tears building in her eyes. Deep down she knew coming here now was a mistake, her grandma wouldn’t want her sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night, especially not under the current circumstances.

She sniffled, alright she got to the gravestone and proved exactly nothing. Time to get home as fast as she possibly could and swear off stupid impulsive decsions forever.

The wet smacking of lips that made her skin crawl.

“Pr.principal Robertson?” She tentatively asked, standing up and turning towards the gross sound. Her eyes widened in grotesque terror as she looked at the swollen thing that only scarcely held the appearance of her principal, the purplish grey skin stretched uncomfortably tight as the creature smiled wider than nature as she knew it allowed.

“Pascala Desoto,” It still spoke with Principal Robertson’s voice. “So courteous of you to come to me, now we may continue your...disciplinary measures, young lady.” The creature stuck out it’s purple tongue which extended down past its belly.

Patsy wanted to run, scream, anything, but her legs refused to move. Her body frozen. It walked up closer to her, and it’s foul breath was like a thick miasma that made her lungs clench up and burnt her throat, she couldn’t even tremble in fear.

“Speechless, DeSoto?” It leaned in and inhaled deeply by her hair, it chucked out as it spoke, “Yeeheeehesss. Your flesh will do, your form will do.”

Over the creature’s shoulder Pascala saw another, and the ghoul’s smile turned into a scowl. Apparently it noticed him as well.  It wrapped it’s unnaturally large hands around her, its index finger on her shoulder and its pinky on her waist. Turning to face him it snarled out, “This is my Witch, get your own.”

The man stepped out of the shadows into the moonlight, the beams catching on his glasses, “Let her go, Corpse eater.” He held a revolver in one hand, and an old medieval looking sword in the other. His arm wasn’t in the sling anymore and he didn’t look injured at all.

“Morales, I knew I should have crushed your throat when-”

Her teacher cocked the pistol and aimed it right at his head.

“G...go ahead. I am not something you can kill with a bullet.” The ghoul said smugly.

“In your state it will hurt, it’ll be a whole world of agony.” Morales said, calling the monster’s bluff.

It took a slight step back, balking out a grunt in some fear. “We can split her! I don’t need her blood!”

Patsy’s eyes widened at the suggestion.

“Don’t worry, Miss. Pascala. This thing won’t harm you...and survive.” His voice was cold again, and she couldn’t help but feel an intense fear. Maybe from the slight tremors she felt through the ghoul’s hand, but somehow she knew that this thing that used to be her Principal was terrified.

“I can’t go back to the corpses people bury, they poison them, and every time I feed I whimper in agony for years, only to need to feed again, the cycle is torture! Have mercy!” The ghoul begged.

“You do not want my mercy, Corpse eater. It is at the end of my sword.” He began walking forward.

The ghoul released Patsy and pinched her throat, “Another step and I’ll break her neck!”

Reactively she reached up at the monster’s finger’s “I don’t want to die!” she sobbed, were she in a more clear headed situation she may have realized she can move again.

Mr. Morales paused, scowling back at the hellish beast. 

“That’s right! You...you have a fondness for her, your student, HAH! So long as I have her in my grasp you won’t risk harming her.” The ghoul grinned hideously in it’s little victory.

Her history class teacher inhaled sharply, then said, “If you are going to do something, now would be the time!”

Principal Robertson the ghoul frowned, “What are you playing at?!” 

Out from the bushes a large orange cat ran up much faster than Patsy had ever seen in her life and pounced on the ghoul’s forearm, clawing and tearing at it. The ghoul released her and she dropped, quickly and frantically crawling into an upright sprint several yards away from the monster.

Bean used the ghoul as a springboard and sprinted over to Patsy. The Ghoul was screaming and clutching the wounds the cat had left on it, as Morales lunged forward and with a clean swift strike cleaved the monster’s head from it’s shoulders.

Patsy’s breaths were short, and she pulled Bean into her arms as she tried to calm down. Morales wiped his blade off on the grass before sheathing it and steeping over to his student as he holstered his gun.

“I’m sorry, Miss. Pascala.” He said, “Are you alright?”

“What, what was that!?” She asked, looking at the ghoul’s limp body.

He paused, like he was unsure he could answer, “...Is there any world where you could accept that this was all a bad dream?”

She shook her head, “No, I have nightmares all the time, this is real.” Patsy looked at her teacher and gasped, she tried to step back but only fell backwards. “Those eyes!”

Mr. Morales sighed, and pulled his glasses from his face. His eyes were a hungry deep red. “Please, Miss. Pascala, I mean you no harm. You have my word, my oath as a man who has spent his very long life guiding the minds of the youth, and protecting everyone who I find in need of help.”

She tried to steady her breath, with Bean in her arms she felt much bolder and confident, “Those eyes, I’ve seen them in my nightmares, I trusted you and you’re another one of those things!” She pointed to the ghoul.”

He was taken aback, and gestured at his face, “You’ve seen these eyes in your dreams? Miss. Pascala, I assure you I am not a corpse eater.” He grabbed his lip and pulled it up, revealing a long and sharp fang. “I am a vampire, and amazingly you seemed to have augured my presence in your dreams.”

She stared at the fang with wide, slightly horrified eyes. “...Huh.”

“Huh. That...is a first.” The Vampire said, “I imagine you have questions, and you deserve answers. Especially if you refuse to accept this night was just a bad dream.”

She nodded, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to, trust me I’m trying. Still here, next to my vampire history teacher.”

“Very well, Miss. Pascala. This ghoul was hunting you because you are a Sorceress, and whoever gave you that cat was as well. Seeing as how that animal is a Familiar, your Familiar.” He said, “Monday, come to my class after school, and I will tell you more. For now just go home, you’ll be safe there with the cat. I need to clean this up before anyone comes by and finds it.”

It was be a difficult thing to believe that Patsy would just accept things at that, that she would just go home and enjoy her long weekend with her folks, and she could just scratch Bean behind the ear knowing she was some magical protector her Secret Sorceress Grandma had given to her as a little kitten. That she could be nearly eaten and just go back to bed. All that can be agreed upon is that Patsy got out of bed the next morning around 10:30, that she took a shower and had slightly runny scrambled eggs for breakfast. Another thing that can be certain is that Patsy would never doubt what happened, what she saw and what she heard, and that the story of Pascala DeSoto, The Sorceress of Illinois had only begun. 

End Chapter

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[thewatermelloncat]

Backstage (Rosénali CH 7)

CH1, CH2, CH3, CH4, CH5, CH6

Summary: With the production date looming closer, the friend group pulls together to get each other through rehearsals.

Boarding School AU

Kinda Pastel/Punk AU

Author’s Note: Be on the look out for links to extra stories within the chapters.

Warnings: Swearing

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

The next morning Rosé awakes to her door gently closing. Panic should course through her at the sight of another figure in the dark room but even half-asleep she easily makes it out to be the shape of Denali.

“Nali, what are you doing here this early?” Rosé asks as she looks at the clock on her phone. “My alarm doesn’t go off for ten minutes.”

“Go back to sleep, Rosie” Denali says softly, picking up Rosé’s phone and deactivating the alarm. “Mik and Liv are bringing breakfast to us.”

Rosé hums in confusion.

“Mik’s idea” Denali explains as she sits down in the desk chair. “Just get some more sleep.”

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

The next time she wakes, it’s to the door opening and quiet whispers traveling inside.

She closes her eyes again and pulls in a breath to wake up a little more.

“Morning” she mumbles as she rolls onto her side. Blinking her eyes open and facing the doorway Mik and Liv just walked through.

“Good morning” Liv reflects sweetly.

“Morning, gorge” Mik says.

“Hardly feel gorgeous at the moment” Rosé admits, pushing herself up off the mattress and running a hand through the tangles in her hair.

Denali huffs a laugh at the comment and throws Rosé her hairbrush from the desk.

She catches it and works away at her hair while Mik and Liv divvy out the breakfast they’ve collected. Mik complaining about how Liv wouldn’t let her near the coffee sachets.

“I think that’s fair, Mik” Denali says after Liv explained that Mik has a science test first period.

“Are you feeling better, Rosé?” Liv asks sweetly as she hands her a bowl of cereal.

“Yeah” Rosé answers quickly. “Thanks for letting me sleep in and doing… all of this” she gestures a hand around the room.

“Really you should thank Mik. It was all her idea” Liv says.

“Don’t bother. That just makes it awkward!” Mik calls out, leaning into Rosé’s view from behind Liv. “It’s just a friend thing.”

“Well, I still appreciate it… all of you” Rosé smiles awkwardly at them.

“It’s not a problem, Rosie” Denali finalises. “And it’s probably best if you don’t start your week falling asleep in class.”

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

Rosé didn’t fall asleep in class; not even nearly over the next few weeks. Bringing breakfast to each other became like a tradition. There was no official roster but they would figure it out as they went.

Liv and Mik found out about Rosé’s job – which Liv had secretly suspected for a while – and after each of her night shifts it would be her turn.

Though Denali was normally an early riser, they pressured her to sleep in if they saw she was getting tired from all of her dance rehearsals. And Mik benefited correspondingly in their shared room.

They also made sure to share it around with Liv so it would be fair, although she never asked for it.

“Rosé you’re the fucking best!” Mik groans appreciatively as Rosé hands around takeaway boxes of leftover pancakes the morning after she had mentioned that she was craving them. Though she hadn’t thought anything would come of it.

“Had to be eaten” Rosé shrugs as she sits down, cross legged on the floor of Mik and Denali’s room. “Just wish we could use the microwave in the kitchens.”

“These are so good anyway, Rosé” Denali says through a mouthful as she reaches for another pot of syrup.

“We could use a hairdryer” Mik suggests.

“No” Liv warns quickly, completely prepared to physically restrain Mik if she tried.

“Would that even work?” Denali laughs and they launch into a debate.

Liv trying to calmly shut it down before Mik does something stupid. Rosé happy to sit back and watch it, not thinking that it would work but also not exactly opposed to Mik doing something stupid.  Denali arguing that she doesn’t know how scientifically plausible it is and Mik trying to reason that the only way to know is to try. Though it’s all for nothing as Mik finishes her pancakes before the argument is over.

“I’m so glad that this is just a half day” Denali says as she ties her shoelaces, getting ready for class.

“You won’t be saying that when they let us know what disappointments we are during rehearsal” Mik drones warningly about the first complete run-through of the production that is due to start after lunch.

Denali shrugs with a dismissive hum. “I get to miss out on English, so I don’t care.”

“Do you not like being in classes with me?” Rosé feigns offense, clutching a hand to her chest.

“You know that’s not what I meant” Denali scoffs as she stands up from the floor to follow the rest of the group out the door.

“Well, for the record, I don’t like being in class with you either” Rosé pretends to ignore her, turning her nose up playfully as she stalks down the hallway. The other’s following suit and rushing themselves off to class.

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

As far as first full rehearsals go, it wasn’t too bad. Sure, they had been given many things to improve on but nothing too harsh. Mik hadn’t forgotten the single line that she had, and Denali’s dance troupe all had smooth transitions. Of course, Denali twisting her ankle when her roller-skate hadn’t wanted to come off after her solo hadn’t been a highlight.

“Ms Visage’s critique about your harmony being off is bullshit” Rosé says to Olivia as they step out of the auditorium and head back towards the dormitories.

“Thanks, but you don’t have to say that” Liv says but smiles anyway.

“Honestly” Rosé stands by it. Knowing that Olivia takes critique harder than most.

Suddenly they are cut off by Mik gasping dramatically. “You are limping!” she directs at Denali who is trailing slightly behind.

“It’s fine” Denali maintains. “It’s a twist not a sprain.”

Mik shakes her head throughout her speaking and when Denali stops, she demands, “get on my back.”

“Mik, I’ll crush you” Denali laughs as the smaller girl turns her back to her, readying her hands out to catch her legs.

“No, you won’t. I’m stronger than I look” Mik affirms.

“Even if you are, her feet will still be on the ground” Rosé teases Mik before offering to Denali, “here, jump on mine.”

For a moment Denali stays where she is as Mik moves away from her, happy for Rosé to take over the task of carrying her. At her friends all looking at her expectingly, she gives in, laughing as she jumps up on Rosé’s back.

“Where are we going?” Mik asks when they take off walking again.

“Go to my room, it’s closer” Rosé directs.

“Ooh, Mik, we should go to the office and get some ice” Liv suggests and without saying a word Mik bounds over to join her and they head off in another direction.

Rosé laughs softly when she feels Denali hang her head against her shoulder.

“It’s not even a big deal” Denali groans at the fuss everyone is making over her. Feeling Rosé’s shoulders continuing to shake as she laughs.

“Just let them do it.”

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

“I think it’s sweet that they have a separate performance just for friends and family, but I kinda wish they had that one last” Denali says from on top of Rosé’s bed with an icepack under her ankle.

“Yeah, I get that” Liv acknowledges, sitting cross-legged on the floor. “Get the nerves out of the way first.”

“People have been saying that for years, but I don’t know why they haven’t changed it” Mik mentions as she slowly spins around in the desk chair.

“They spin some bullshit about every performance having to be just as good as the others – treat every one like it will be your last and all that” Rosé drones from further down the bed than Denali, lying looking up at the roof with her knees hanging off the end.

“Mr Piane?” Liv asks.

“You had that speech before?” Rosé looks toward her, and Denali figures that it’s one of their vocal tutors they’re talking about.

Liv raises her eyebrows in a knowing look before she turns to Mik. “When are your parents getting here?”

“Couple of days before, I think. But they’ll leave the day after” Mik answers. “What about yours?”

“Opposite from you: come the day before, leave a couple after. Denali?”

“Day before, leave late the day after” Denali answers.

“Have you heard back from your parents, Rosé?” Liv asks considerately.

Rosé shakes her head and Mik immediately changes topic to what she overheard two girls gossiping about the day before.

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

The ongoing conversation hadn’t been halted by Rosé’s phone buzzing but it is at her dramatic groan after reading the message.

“What is it?” Denali asks as Rosé lazily rolls off of her bed.

“I need to fill in someone’s shift at work.”

“Can’t someone else do it?” Liv asks.

“We were going to do homework together tonight” Mik adds.

“I know, I know” Rosé repeats as she gets her things together. “But I’m missing a lot of my usual shifts with rehearsals and the performance next week.”

Around the room various hums sound off as signals that her point is fair enough.

“You guys can stay in here, I don’t care” Rosé says as she shoulders her bag.

“Okay, just let us know how you get on” Denali asks.

“Shouldn’t be late. Think it’s only a single shift” rosé explains before she steps out the door. Leaving them talking about whether Mik is nervous about getting everyone ready for the full dress rehearsal tomorrow.

Later that night when she stumbles back into her dorm, her feet sore from standing, she’s halted at the sight of her books stacked neatly on her desk. On top sitting a page of science notes written out by Olivia and another of English notes in Denali’s handwriting. Then she smiles.

CH8

[annewritesfic]

perhaps you could write a little koala kate? :))))

Kate had had the longest week of her life.

When she was 12, her sister, who'd been 18 at the time, had been hanging out with her. "You know, Kate," she'd said suddenly, breaking the silence, "the older you get, the shorter every day feels. Because when you're five, a year is a fifth of your entire life and feels so long. But when you're fifty, a year is just a fiftieth of your entire life and feels so much shorter."

Twelve year old Kate had nodded and pretended she'd understood, but she hadn't really grasped that concept until she was fifteen. Now, though, at seventeen, she was kind of wondering if her sister had just been full of shit.

After some calculations, Kate had determined that in her life, she'd lived through about 900 weeks, give or take a couple. She'd had some long ones - finals week, the weeks after each disastrous sleepover, once an entire week jam packed with gymnastics practice before a competition that ended up being cancelled last minute. This week, however, despite having a shorter fraction of her life, felt longer than all the rest.

Not one, not two, not three, but four tests on Monday, one of them on a reading she'd forgotten to read. Overslept on Tuesday and missed her first class, and then gotten grounded as a result. Practice was cancelled last minute on Wednesday, but her phone was dead and her car was in the shop, so she'd had to wait outside the building for two hours before her dad picked her up. On Thursday, she'd forgotten to charge her laptop the night before, so she got in trouble in all her classes when it died twenty minutes into English. And then on Friday, she'd managed to leave her entire homework folder at home. To top it all off, Eva had been gone all week, visiting family, and Kate missed her so much.

Saturday morning, she woke up and stared at the wall for awhile (she didn't know exactly how long) before she checked her phone. Scrolling through endless notifications she didn't care about from Instagram, Snapchat, Tumblr, etc, she paused on a text from Eva.

6:34 am, V 🏳️‍🌈♥️: Plane takes off in 10. Should land around 11. Meet me at the airport? ♥️🧡💛💚💙💜

Kate looked at the clock, and when she read 10:13, she nearly fell out of bed in her rush to get dressed.

She'd had the week from hell - she deserved to see her fucking girlfriend.

She parked at the airport at exactly 11:03 and speed-walked to the arrivals area, anxiously scanning the crowd for Eva and cursing her lack of height. Twice she thought she saw her, but it was just two other girls who definitely weren't Eva.

She was about to send her another text when someone said her name to her left, and she looked up at Eva.

"Oh my fucking God, I missed you," she managed.

Eva held out her arms, and Kate didn't hesitate to run into the hug. "I missed you too, Katie."

"I have had the worst week and I wanted you here," Kate mumbled into Eva's hoodie, refusing to let go.

"Bad week, huh?" Eva nuzzled her hair. "Why don't you come over?"

"Are you sure?"

"It's been an entire week, I don't think there's anything I wouldn't do at the moment to spend time with you." Eva pulled away from the hug and slipped her hand into Kate's. "C'mon, I'm sure my mom will be fine with it, she adores you."

Ten minutes later, Kate and Eva were in Kate's car, on their way to the Sanchez house, Kate with one hand on the wheel and the other one holding Eva's hand. They purposefully took the long route to Eva's, stopped for gas even though Kate had quite a few miles left, and enjoyed being completely alone without the rest of Eva's family moving around near them. Still, though, it was nice once they got to Eva's house, too - they both ran straight to Eva's room, tried to lock Evelyn, her twin, out of the room they shared, got in trouble, let her in, and then kicked off their shoes and crawled into bed together, every muscle in both their bodies relaxing the second Eva pulled the blanket up to their shoulders. And they just... laid there, for hours, Evelyn in her bed across the room listening to music, the rest of the Sanchezes quietly walking through the house, putting things away and doing chores and such.

Kate wrapped all four limbs around Eva and buried her face in the crook of Eva's neck, clinging to her like she'd die if she let go (and she wasn't so sure she wouldn't). Eva held her just as tightly, curled around her and running her fingers through her hair. Kate's parents were at work and would be home in a few hours and she really had to text them so they didn't freak out when she wasn't there, but she couldn't make herself move.

"You're like a koala," Eva said thoughtfully after a bit, her voice tired. "Clinging to me like a koala. Fuck, you're so cute."

"I love you," Kate mumbled, not moving a muscle. "Love you so much."

"I love you too, koala." Eva hummed. "Hm, koala could work as a nickname."

"I like it. Don't tell anyone I said that, though."

Eva laughed, and it sounded like everything good to Kate. "Promise. Fuck, I really love you."

"Love you too."

[detroitbydark]

can we pretty please get a fluff blurb based on harrison giving you his varsity jacket that he wore in his insta post? please?

No warnings here. This is probably the tamest, most G rated things I’ll ever write and I absolutely love it. This is the first time in probably a month where I’ve really enjoyed writing something and felt like some of me was actually in it. Thank You!!  

So Here is the 1950′s AU no one asked for but I gave them regardless. I know it probably wasn't what you had in mind but I hope you enjoy it regardless.     

You glanced at your math book as the Wurlitzer across the dining room swapped out one 45 for the next. The Five Satins has just finished crooning on about what happened ‘In The Still of the Night’. As the next record falls into place you glance nervously past your milkshake to the teens a few booths down. You have to bite your lip to keep from sighing.

Harrison Osterfield, star athlete in just about every sport he went out for, sat with a few buddies and their girls. You tried to be inconspicuous as you watched him smiling and joking. You’d been borderline obsessed with him since the 4th grade when your family had moved to town and bought the dinner, back when he’d been the only kid that had made the shy little girl feel welcome on her first day in a new school. Of course, you’d faded to the background of everything soon enough. You’d been so timid at the time. Even as you’d both grown older and Harrison’s star had begun to shine he still offered you a smile in the hallway when you passed. 

 It was such a cliche. The bookworm in the love with the football captain.

The first few bars of the next song had you laughing and shaking your head as you glanced back down at your textbook.

“Why do fools fall in love, Frankie?” You muttered as Frankie Lymon continued to ask his questions. Somehow when Harrison was in the dinner the jukebox always seemed to play something that struck you just so. Coincidence, you were sure.

You closed your book as you glanced at the clock on the wall. Your shift was going to start in just a few minutes and you needed to put your school work away and get your apron on. As if to emphasize the point your Dad poked his head out of the kitchen.

“Anytime now, Peaches…”

You felt your cheeks flush bright pink as you heard the laughs erupt from the other table.

“Peaches? I would just shit twice and die!” One of the girls, Betty Markle, explained from her spot pressed against Harrison’s side. When you dared to glance over, cheeks burning with embarrassment, Harrison catches your eye and for a split second it was just you, those fabulous baby blues, and your skipping heart. 

And then Betty ruined it.

“Run along…Peaches.” She cackled, shooing you along with pristine hands and perfect fingernails. The kind that had never worked a day in their life. The kind that got to hold the hand of the star quarterback.

Making sure to keep your eyes averted you made your way back into the kitchen, hands fulls of homework and your empty cup.

“Everything ok, Peaches?” Your Dad asks with a cock of his head.

“I’m good, Daddy, just trying to figure out this math” you lied smoothly.

“You’ll get it Sweetheart. Lord knows your smarter than your old man.”

You give your dad a soft smile and a roll of your eyes before you slip your apron on and tie a loose bow in the back. Before you head out you slide your arms into your old worn cardigan. It was fall and a chill was in the air.

“Peaches, baby, Wanda is going on break can you help her with her tables?”

You give a nod as you scan the room. There’s four occupied tables with Harrison’s group being the closest to you. You start with the farthest hoping Wanda would be done with her break before you’d get to them.

The regulars smile at you as you refill waters and take orders. You bring a sundae out for the Horowitz’s with two spoons. They were well into their 80’s and honestly the cutest couple you’d ever seen. You hoped someday you had something even half as amazing as what they seemed to have. Mrs Horowitz chatted with you in her thick Austrian accent while her husband made short work of the whipped cream on top of the sundae, pushing the lone red cherry in her direction.

“When are you gonna find a boy to share a sundae with?” She asks conspiratorially. You shake your head. You hoped she wasn’t trying to set you up with her nephew again.

“Not on my to-do list right now.” You say, smiling shyly. You watch her eyes dart behind you.

“I think that young man over there would do.”

Without a second thought you glance over to find Harrison smiling your way. Your head snaps back quickly and the elderly woman chuckles.

“He probably just wants some more fries.” You explain quickly. “He always gets more than he orders to start with” you’re babbling now, praying that Wanda comes back. Mrs Horowitz hums as you continue “in fact, last week he came in and had two malts and three orders of fries. I mean, I don’t know where he puts it all…” you trail off feeling foolish and the woman gives you a soft smile.

“Maybe you should go see what he needs, no?”

You take a fortifying breath before you nod and turn. Your shoes squeak on the linoleum and you try to hide the cringe that hits you. Your shoes weren’t as pretty or as shiny as the other girl’s saddle shoes and weren’t nearly as trendy as the neat ballet flats you’d seen Audrey Hepburn wearing, the same kind Betty and her friend were wearing now as you approach their table.

For the most part the looks that great you are vaguely friendly but there’s a glint in Betty’s eye as you turn your attention to Harrison that puts you ill at ease.

“Hey, Y/N. How are you doing on that algebra assignment?” He asks throwing you off. Of course you knew he was in your class but you’d never realized he noticed you in it. You fiddle with a button on your cardigan.

“I mean, I think I’ve got it but-“

“I could use some more water.” Betty’s face is sour as she asks. She points to her glass as if you couldn’t see that it was half full.

“I’m sorry” you stutter out, turning quickly to grab a pitcher of water. You hear Harrison’s voice, gruff and irritated but you can’t make out what he’s saying. Betty’s face looks even more pinched when you get back, like she’s sucked on a lemon. Her arms are crossed tightly over her chest but you don’t care because Harrison is all smiles when he looks your way.

“So are you going to the game Friday?” He asks and you think it’s a real nice thing he’s doing trying to make conversation, be friendly. He must not realize that girls like you don’t go to football games. You shake your head, chew your lip (a horrible nervous habit your Mom had hated).

“I really need to work on the essay for English. Footballs not really my thing.” You try to explain. His smile falters. His buddies and the girls have begun chatting, seeming to have forgotten you, except Betty staring daggers. If looks could kill…

“Aww, come on Y/N. You should give it a try. You might have fun.” You watch him snap his fingers as if he’s just been hit with a brilliant idea. “If you come to the game I’ll let you borrow my practice jersey to wear.”

The table goes quiet with the exception of the strangled sound Betty makes in the back of her throat. You feel your face flushing as you try to stammer out an answer. How was he asking you to wear his jersey? As far as you knew Harrison Osterfield didn’t even know you existed. Those blues are probing you, like he’s willing you to say 'yes’. He runs a hand through his hair and, God above, you nearly swoon at his attention.

Suddenly there’s a wet splash and water and chocolate malt is splashing across the table. The pitcher is laying on its side as you suck in a sharp breath at the cold shock you’ve received. Your skirt is soaked and your white blouse is clinging to you in a way that makes you feel embarrassed and ashamed.

“What the hell, Betty!” Harrison is growling at the girl who holds her hands up.

“It was an accident Haz. Butterfingers, ya know.” You can’t even look her in the face. “I’m sure Y/N knows it was an accident, right?” her voice is saccharine sweet and as fake as the color of her hair.

“Y/N…” you don’t give Harrison a chance to say anything as hot tears prick at your eyes. You glimpse Wanda pulling her apron on from the corner of your eye. Her knowing gaze is already focused in on the table. She doesn’t try to stop you as you rush back into the kitchen and the small break room.

“I think it’s time ya’ll got your check.” She says firmly as Harrison watches the kitchen door swing on its hinges.

———

You sit in the back stoop for far longer than you should. Your dad stops out to check on you and ruffle your hair. You didn’t have a change of clothes and the chill of the air makes you shiver but it’s also cooling the hot rush of embarrassment you feel each time you think about what happened earlier. Wanda gave you the all clear after the group had cashed out but here you sat, not ready to go back to the scene of the crime.

If the ground could swallow you up whole you would happily allow it. You dread thinking about school the next day, about the smirk that Betty’s going to be wearing and the whispers and laughs you’ll hear in the halls. You let your head fall into your hands as you try to forget about everything.

“Um….hey, Y/N?” The sound of Harrison Osterfield’s voice has you sitting straight up. You move to stand and go back inside. 

“Please don’t go" His voice is pleading.

“Why, so you can laugh at me too?” You feel anger rising, flaming to life in your chest. Harrison takes in your narrowed eyes, holding his hands up in surrender.

“I come in peace, yeah? That was a messed up thing Betty did. I’m really sorry. Nobody else thought it was funny.”

Just as soon as the anger roared to life it’s flickering out. Your shoulders slump and you smooth your skirt. Your cardigan had taken the brunt of the milkshake while your blouse had gotten a couple splashes of chocolate but mostly the icy water. You’d be lucky if you could get the stains out of the cardigan. Wanda had mixed up a “fool proof" stain cleaner in the kitchen and it was currently soaking in a pot on the counter next to a pot of your dad’s famous chili. You shiver slightly as a soft breeze ruffles the hem of your skirt. 

“I suppose I can’t blame her for being mad” you say towing at one of the steps “her boyfriend offered another girl his jersey. Of course she was mad.” 

You jump when Harrison barks out a laugh. He quickly sobers when he sees you huff. 

“Y/N, Betty isn’t my girlfriend. We’re not together. Not saying that’s not what she wants but I…” He takes a couple steps toward you, stopping at the bottom of the stoop. “Come on, you’ve got to realize I’ve been trying to ask you on a date for months.”

You try to stop your mouth from dropping open because, for all your smarts, that possibility had never even crossed your mind. Harrison gives you a lop-sided smile as he comes to stand one step below you. His eyes are nearly level with yours and you allow yourself a moment to appreciate how they crease at the corners when he smiles.

“I was so sick last week-“

“I just thought you liked fries…?” You can hear the hesitancy in your voice. Harrison’s fingers bump against yours and you look down as he takes one of you hands in his, rising to the same step you’re on. His fingers are rough and calloused. His class ring is cool against your skin.

“After last week, I could die happy without ever eating another fry in my life. I just wanted to see you and… God, I was trying to get the courage up to ask you to come to the game but I just couldn’t.”

It’s your turn to laugh. Why would Harrison need courage to ask you anything? You ask him as much.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Harrison’s free hand brushes against you cheek and goosebumps run amok on your arms. He misinterprets it and before you can correct him he’s pulling his Letterman jacket off and draping it around your shoulders. It swallows you whole but its broken in and warm. And it smells like how you always thought he’d smell, leather and after shave, smoke from a bonfire.  “You are so beautiful and smart and…. I can’t keep my eyes off of you. The guys have been ribbing me forever about it. You really didn’t know?”

You shake your head dumbly. You’d missed that one for sure. 

“So you want me to go to the game friday…”

“And wear my jersey.”

“And wear your jersey.”

“Because you like me.”

“Loads” He gives you that 10,000 watt smile and you return it with a shy one of your own. “And afterwards you’ll let me take you for a bite to eat or to a bonfire or…. I don’t care. I just want to spend time with you.”

You’re Mom had read you fairy tales as a little girl. You’d loved them but you’d never once thought you’d be in one. That’s what this was.  “OK.” You say finally.  He looks at you like he’s won the lottery. You’d only ever dreamed he’d be looking at you like he was now. 

“Can I walk you home?” He’s nearly vibrating  with excitement and you feel the same way.

“Let me run inside and see if I can find a sweater to wear.”   

Harrison shakes his head, “Just wear my jacket. It looks good on you.”

[notalwaysthevillian]

Shattering Stereotypes

Warnings: None? Let me know!

Pairings: Romantic Mox and Remile established, Romantic Logince to come

Word Count: ~1.9k

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Read from the beginning

Chapter 9

Logan woke up before his alarm went off, deciding to just get up and shower. He’d gotten fitful sleep anyway and knew that even trying to get a few more minutes would be futile.

Knowing that today was School Color day, he examined his closet for longer than usual. There wasn’t much he owned that was red, other than a pair of jeans he’d gotten as a gift from Preston.

With a sigh, he put them on. They were tighter than what he normally wore, but that was the price he was going to pay for school spirit.

He threw on a white button up before grabbing some red and white sneakers that had also been a gift.

Convenient.

As soon as Preston and Thomas saw him, they broke out into grins.

“I knew you’d wear those someday.” Preston gestured to the jeans. “It wouldn’t kill you to show off that Sanders ass more often.”

“Dad!”

“Preston.”

“What? It’s part of the reason I fell for you.”

Thomas rolled his eyes as Preston pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Love you too, Tommy.”

“Lo, you want Crofter’s on your - why am I even asking.” Thomas nodded to the fridge, taking the jar of jam from Preston.

Logan took the jar from Thomas. “Thank you, but I’ll make my own breakfast.”

“Is this because I don’t put enough jam on your toast?” Thomas teased.

Logan pretended not to hear him as he prepared his breakfast before heading out to the car.

As soon as Logan stepped foot on school grounds, he couldn’t help but smile. Nearly everyone in the vicinity was covered in red and white. Glancing around, Logan saw Virgil and Patton heading into the school. Virgil had swapped out his usual hoodie for a red one and his black jeans for white. Patton had on one of the male cheer uniforms, a large G emblazoned on the chest.

After dumping his books at his locker, Logan headed straight for his English class.

And proceeded to short circuit in the doorway.

How could he have forgotten that the sports teams wore their uniforms on Spirit Day?

The jersey Roman wore showed off the muscles in his arms. His pants were rolled to the knee, showing off one red sock and one white one. The socks clung to his calf muscles, no doubt gained from his many games of catching.

The two of them locked eyes as Logan managed to start moving again. Roman had smeared what appeared to be red and white paint under his eyes.

“Logan! Perfect, sit down.”

Doing as he was told, Logan froze as Roman reached out and started smearing some of the paint under his own eyes. The gentle touch was making his heart race.

“What -”

“Relax, Lo. It’s meant for your face, it’s called warrior paint.” Roman leaned in close, his breath fanning across Logan’s cheek as he observed his work.

Closing the gap here would not be beneficial.

“Alright, I know we’re not going to get much done today, so I’ll just give you a free period to work on your projects, even though I know most of you will just talk anyway.” Mx. Stokes said, before they pulled out a box. “And if anyone wants some beads to complete their school spirit look, have at it.”

Roman practically vaulted over the desks to get to the box, grabbing four sets of beads. When he came back, he draped two of them over Logan.

“Now you look like you have school spirit.” He flashed Logan a smile.

Blood rushed to Logan’s cheeks. “So...were you going to talk to anyone or did you want to work on our project?”

“Actually I drew up some ideas for costumes!”

Logan barely noticed how fast the class went by, content to listen to Roman excitedly babble about the costume ideas and their symbolism. When the bell rang, Logan jumped out of his seat, making Roman laugh.

“See you at the pep rally!” Roman called before he darted off to his next class.

The day went by in a blur, Logan opting to simply do homework instead of chat with Virgil. His purple-haired classmate didn’t seem to mind, putting on some music instead.

A high pitched squeal crackled over the PA system. “Seniors may be excused and make their way down to the gym.”

A few of their classmates headed out, Logan and Virgil packing up their things. Everyone was required to leave their backpacks in their final class, and pick them up before going home.

Not more than five minutes later, the PA system squealed again. “Juniors may be excused.”

Virgil and Logan headed out together. As they walked in, Logan wasn’t sure where he was going to sit, but Virgil pulled him over to where Patton was sitting with Remy and Emile. He noticed Roman sit a couple rows ahead with the baseball team.

Logan wasn’t really listening as they went through the opening spiel of the pep rally. It was pretty much a rundown of all the scores so far - the seniors were winning - and the times of the game, the parade, and the dance. All stuff Logan had heard, since he actually paid a bit of attention to the school calendar.

What he did notice was Roman and several other students getting up and moving down to a reserved portion of the bleachers.

“What’s going on?”

“Too busy staring, huh?” Remy asked from the end of the row, waggling his eyebrows.

Logan flushed, turning to Virgil instead.

“Dodgeball, just like every other year.”

“Ah,” Logan adjusted his glasses, watching as the freshman were unfairly pitted against the seniors. “My apologies, I usually sneak in a book and read at the top.”

“So you’re paying attention now because…” Virgil trailed off, a teasing grin on his face.

Patton poked him in the shoulder. “V, don’t be mean!”

“He’s not, you have my word.” Logan leaned forward to see around Virgil. “Congrats on the homecoming date though.”

“Thanks! Virge told me about your issue and I think if you have the guts to go for it, you should give him the letter.” A friendly smile graced Patton’s face.

Logan nodded, hearing the whistle to start the game. Everyone’s attention shifted, watching as the freshman were knocked out in a mere two minutes. Once they returned to their seats, the seniors sat down, watching the sophomores and juniors get into position.

Roman looked up into the stands, met Logan’s eyes, and flashed a grin. Logan’s heart pounded as he smiled back, but Roman had looked back to the game.

He was probably smiling at someone else.

“Did you see that?” Patton whispered. “He smiled at you!”

“No, it wasn’t -”

Virgil held up a hand. “It was totally for you.”

Blood returned to Logan’s cheeks. The whistle blew once more and he watched as Roman nearly single-handedly took out the sophomores, assisted by one or two more teammates.

“Dang, he’s good.”

“He said sometimes he pitches.” Logan replied without thinking.

“How do you know that, Lo?”

Logan turned, face flaming as he got various degrees of smirks from his friends. “He may have stayed for dinner a few times because of our project.”

Patton and Emile both clapped their hands over their mouths to suppress their squealing. Remy’s smirk vanished as he gave Emile a loving gaze, but Virgil kept his eyes on Logan.

“Dude. He at least likes you as a friend, or he would never have stayed.”

A sharp blow of the whistle had them turning back to the floor. At some point, the seniors had set up where the sophomores had vacated. The two teams were now going after each other with a vengeance. The seniors to defend their title, and the juniors to finally shove them out of the number one spot.

It came down to Roman and a senior named Steve. He was a linebacker on the football team, and built like a brick.

Steve fired a ball at Roman.

The crowd gasped as it popped out of Roman’s hands.

Roman dove for it, barely catching it before it hit the ground.

The juniors went nuts, cheering wildly. Steve headed back to the football team, high-fiving along the way.

Roman ran back into the crowd, breathing heavily. Again, he shot a grin to where Logan was sitting.

Logan buried his face in his hands as soon as Roman looked away.

“Ah, yes. The gay meltdown.”

“Remy!”

A squeal from the microphone had all of the students covering their ears. Principal Torres apologized before announcing the next part of the competition.

Solving a Rubik’s cube.

Logan’s name was called for the juniors. He headed down with four other students, clearly picked because they were the smartest kids in the class.

Smart didn’t always equate to puzzle solving.

“The first one to solve the cube will win one hundred points for their class. The second wins fifty, and the third twenty-five. Each of you will be timed by a randomly selected teacher. Any questions?” She stopped, watching as they all shook their heads. “Three, two, one, GO!”

Logan moved like lightning, blocking everything else out of his head.

“Done!”

He smirked when he realized he was the first to finish by a long shot. The teacher across from him showed his time.

Forty-five seconds.

As soon as two others had finished, the freshman and the senior, they were excused back to their seats.

“Nice job, Lo!” Patton gave him a beaming smile as he sat back down.

Virgil nodded. “I’m pretty sure we’re tied with the seniors now.”

Logan hardly paid attention to the rest of the pep rally, only noticing that the next events were one bounce and tug of war. The seniors must’ve been angry about losing, seeing as how they lost both events.

Which meant…

“In first place this year is our Juniors, with 1,340 points!”

The junior class went wild, cheering and screaming. Principal Torres quickly quieted everyone down, gave a rundown of the parade and game times for later that night, and then excused everyone.

Logan traced the paper in his pocket as he darted down the steps, trying to reach Roman. He’d give him the note and Roman could text him his answer.

The universe must’ve hated him, because Roman was swept away by his friends before Logan even made it to the gym floor.

A hand on his shoulder had him turning around. Emile and Patton were looking at him with twin expressions of sadness, while Remy looked a little peeved. Virgil squeezed his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Lo. You could always give it to him at the game?”

Logan shook his head. “It’s too late anyway. I can’t even get a ticket now.”

“Actually…” Emile pulled a ticket out of his pocket. “I have an extra. I bought one before Rem asked me.”

Logan took it. “Thank you, but I don’t have anyone to go with.”

“Come with us!” Patton bounced on his toes. “We’re all going together and then having a sleepover at Remy’s house!”

Seeing Logan’s expression, Virgil added, “Or we can drop you back off at your place. And you don’t have to come with us, it’s just an option.”

“I...I think I’d like that.” Logan felt a sudden warmth in his chest. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

[q-gorgeous]

Home

fanfiction

based on the animatic idea i had for this song

Warnings: injury, character death

i still dont know why the page break is gone does anyone know

Dash stared at the boy in front of him. He didn’t know Dash was behind him but Dash was gaping at the twerp.

Danny Fenton was over there facing a ghost.

He was fucking staring it down and exchanging banter. 

Dash was floored as he watched, jaw dropped, as Danny casually sauntered right up to the ghost. 

The fuck does Fenton think he’s doing? Danny laughed at something he said and before Dash knew it the ghost was throwing an ectoblast right at the boy. He jumped and rolled to the side so quickly that Dash’s jaw was nearly unhinged now. 

And then something happened that Dash couldn’t explain. No matter how hard he racked his mind over it, he couldn’t come up with a conceivable explanation. 

Two blinding white rings formed around Danny’s waist, floating away from one another as they passed his chest, his hands, his head. Until left standing there was Phantom. The Danny Phantom. 

Dash looked like a fish now, mouth opening and closing as Phantom-Danny- rushed head first towards the ghost, hand charged up with radioactive ectoplasm. 

Fists flew, debris rained down, and soon Danny was sucking the ghost into that little thermos he always seemed to have. Floating there, Danny had a smirk on his face and he began to turn around. When he met Dash’s horrified and shocked gaze, his own eyes filled with fear. Danny’s eyebrows drew down though and he floated over to Dash who scooted away. 

Dash could see Danny’s mouth moving but he couldn’t hear anything. The sound of his heartbeat rushed through his ears and his chest heaved up and down too quickly. 

A hand softly landed on his shoulder and Dash looked up into Danny’s green eyes. His white hair stood on end, sticking up messily. Now that Dash had seen he could clearly see Danny in Phantom now. He was wearing a jumpsuit for fucks sake. 

Dash took in a deep breath and shakily spoke. 

“Change back.”

The whisper was airy and Dash could still feel himself shaking and breathing too fast but he got it out. 

Danny’s brows furrowed again. “Dash, do you want me to take you home? It’d only take-”

“No! Change back!” Dash spit back.

Danny jumped at the tone, but did as he was asked. The rings appeared again and Dash jerked his arm away from them before they could touch him. Before him was a totally normal, dweebish looking Danny Fenton. 

“Are you dead?" Dash asked, voice barely above a whisper. “How is this possible? You can’t be both alive and dead.” Dash’s face went slack and his eyes widened. “Am I dead? Am I imagining all of this in my last seven minutes of brain activity?”

Danny rolled his eyes. “Dash, no-”

“I’m not ready to die!” Dash wailed. “Is this the karma I get? To be left in purgatory until the end of time being tormented by both my hero and the kid I wailed on everyday?”

Suddenly Danny’s hands were both on Dash’s shoulders shaking him. The smaller boy leaned forward until their faces were only a few inches apart.

“Dash! You’re not dead!” Danny huffed out a small breath, hanging his head. “You just saw something you weren’t supposed to.”

Dash’s eyes widened at that again. “Are you gonna kill me?”

Danny groaned. “Dash, no. It’s just… There are people that if they knew this secret they’d want to kill me. The GIW, The Red Huntress. My parents.” His voice trailed off on the last word. 

“Your parents don’t know?” Dash whispered in horror. 

Danny snorted softly. “Are you kidding? Who knows what they’d do if they found out their son was public enemy number one. They could kill me, dissect me, try to expunge the ghost overshadowing me. Tear me apart molecule by molecule.”

Silence reigned between them before Dash spoke again. 

“Does anyone know?”

Danny nodded. “Sam and Tucker have known the whole time. Jazz found out on her own. All the ghosts know. For some reason.” He scrunched his nose at that. He groaned and leaned away from Dash, resting against the car the jock had been hiding behind during the fight.

“How did it happen?” Dash asked quietly. He had calmed down most of the way but he was still having the shakes. He looked at Danny who had his eyes closed, eyebrows drawn down.

“Accident with the ghost portal. I accidentally turned it on and it electrocuted me while I was inside it. It’s why I missed the first two weeks of freshman year.”

“Man..” Dash looked at the rubble on the ground in front of them. “That sucks.”

Danny snorted. “Tell me about it.”

They sat there in silence for awhile before Danny groaned again and started to stand up. 

“I gotta get going. I have chores and homework I need to do.”

Dash stood up shakily, leaning against the car once he was on his feet. 

“Do you want me to fly you home?”

His head shot up at Danny’s question and he saw the other boy rubbing the back of his neck. 

“I just thought because you’re still shaking that maybe- I don’t know how long it’d take you- another ghost could-”

Dash let out a chuckle at the boy’s nervous stammering. “Sure why not.”

Those rings appeared yet again and something clenched in Dash’s stomach. It wasn’t nearly as terrifying this time around. 

Danny picked Dash up off the ground and leapt into the air, going about the speed as a car would normally be driving down one of these roads.

They finally made it to Dash’s house and Danny flew in through the wall to his room. Danny’s tail turned back into legs and he touched down on the floor before placing Dash back on his own feet. 

“You gonna be okay?” Danny asked as he started turning back to the wall they just flew through. 

“Yeah. Are you gonna be okay?”

Shrugging, Danny cracked a smile. 

“As okay as a dead kid can be.”

He waved and floated through the wall, leaving Dash alone. 

QQQQQQQQQQQQQQ

“Danny!” Dash screamed. He ran between crumbled buildings and bent cars. “Danny!”

The ghost boy wasn’t anywhere in sight, not that that really mattered but it scared Dash. They’d all been at school when the guys in white smashed through walls and dropped through the ceiling.

English class with Lancer. 

Dash held his chin in his hand, looking boredly down at his notebook where he was doodling circles instead of taking notes. He looked up at Danny who was sitting in front of him to the left, barely keeping his head up off his desk. 

Mr. Lancer was droning on about some sort of poetry when the outside walls burst into the classroom, the ceiling falling apart above them. 

“Of Mice and Men!” Lancer exclaimed while students shouted and covered their heads as debris fell around them. 

As the dust cleared Dash could make out boulders of men, their white suits still immaculate of dust or dirt, all pointing their weapons at Danny. 

“Danny Fenton,” one started, “Under the Ecto-Containment Bill, section D paragraph one, you are hereby arrested for harboring a ghostly fugitive.”

“What?!” Danny exclaimed. “Why would I be harboring a ghost fugitive?” “The reasons are unknown. What we have gathered is that Phantom is taking up residence within you and either you are completely fooled, or you allow his presence.”

The blood drained from Danny’s face and Dash’s eyes widened. 

“Phantom? How would I be harboring Phantom? We’ve never even been seen in the same place before! How could I have met him?” Danny asked nervously. He eyed an agent as he took a tool from his pocket, pointing it at Danny who flinched. 

“Level 9 specter. We’ve been tracking Phantom’s ecto-signature for weeks. But if you’ve never been seen together before then…”

One by one the agents raised their weapons and pointed them at Danny. They came to life, the whirring filling the otherwise quiet classroom. The first shot was fired and students could be heard screaming as Danny ducked and rolled across the floor. 

Another blast was shot towards him and nearly clipped his arm.

“Go!” Dash shouted. He ran towards Danny, blocking the agents aim. 

“Dash!” Danny hissed. “What are you doing?”

“Buying you time. Now get out of here.”

Dash turned his head back towards the agent who fired the first shot at Danny. Running forward, he tackled the man to the ground, managing to knock the gun out of his hands. The other agents let out exclamations as they tried to pull him off the bastard. 

“The Fenton kid is gone!” 

At this, Dash was thrown to the side, forgotten, as the agents ran from the school, piling into vans or equipping their flight inventions. Once the area was clear, Dash sprinted from the building, ignoring the cries of Lancer and his classmates. 

“Danny!” Dash yelled again. His eyes were starting to well up and his breathing was getting faster. If he didn’t find Danny soon he’d be too panicked to continue looking for him. 

Suddenly, Dash felt a hand around his wrist pull him into one of the buildings the GIW had crashed through. Dash turned around and couldn’t help the sob that left his throat. 

He threw his arms around Danny, pulling him close against his chest. 

“I thought they got you!” He whispered. 

Danny shook his head. “They’ve got my ecto-signature, I won’t be able to hide from them for long here. I need to leave.”

“Leave where? Where could you possibly go?”

“Australia? The ghost zone? Hell, I might even actually need Vlad’s help this time.”

“But-”

Dash was interrupted as another hole was smashed into the building they were hiding in. 

There stood at least fifteen GIW, all armed, all aiming at Dash and Danny as they stood there. Guns began whirring and the two of them started backing towards the wall. 

“You’re surrounded, Phantom. There’s no escaping this time.” The agent barked. 

“What do you even need him for?!” Dash yelled. “He’s done nothing but good for this town!”

“He needs to be disposed of.”

The way the agent said it was so cold it sent ice down Dash’s spine. 

“What?”

“Whatever this child is shouldn’t exist. His power increases faster than any other specter and it would be unwise to leave it in the hands of a mere teenager. He must be exterminated.”

Dash gaped. “This is a kid you’re talking about! A living, breathing kid! That’s murder!”

“There are no laws protecting ectoplasmic organisms. They are supposed to be dealt with and disposed of.”

Dash’s vision swam with red. He stormed towards the agent, preparing to strike the snake’s face with his fist. 

Something shot into his stomach. It threw him into the ground and as his vision tilted he touched the aching, burning spot on his abdomen, lifting his hand to see it slick with blood. 

After that everything felt like it was happening outside a fish bowl that he was lying in. The sounds around him were muted. He vaguely registered Danny yelling. The glowing shield now surrounding Dash. Danny screaming. It all felt like it lasted a lifetime and a second all at the same time. 

Someone was shaking Dash’s shoulder, trying to get his attention. He turned his heavy gaze towards the figure-Danny-above him. He could make out the GIW agents scattered on the ground in front of them, the tears on Danny’s face. 

“Dash?” He could finally hear his name being spoken. Danny’s voice was filled with raw panic and Dash knew. He knew it wasn’t good. 

“Danny…” Dash whispered. He began to cough, a copper taste filling his mouth and over Danny’s shoulder he saw a hazy light blurring the broken building. 

“I’m not gonna… Not gonna make it.” Dash said shakily. 

A sob pushed its way out of Danny’s throat and tears streamed down his face faster. “No Dash, you gotta hold on. I’ll get you to a hospital and they can-”

“Danny-” Dash’s breath hitched as he placed his hand on top of Danny’s. “I can already- already see it. I’m not gonna make it to a hospital.”

Danny leaned down and pressed his forehead against Dash’s, his tears dripping onto the other boy’s face. 

“Go to- go to Australia. Or the ghost zone, Danny. Please. Get somewhere safe.”

Danny lifted his gaze to look into Dash’s unfocused blue eyes. His breathing picked up and Danny took his free hand and ran it through Dash’s hair until the erratic breaths stopped. 

Dash was standing above Danny and his body, watched as Danny leaned over onto his chest and sobbed. 

Dash took one last look at Danny and turned to walk towards the hazy light, leaving Danny alone.

[riot-in-reverie]

Okay here's my ToG fanfiction. The first parts edited and the second is not. You can probably tell where that line is. Anyway I hope you enjoy it. Some of the text isn't italicized or whatever on here so try your best!

Chapter one

Summer break was over. Aelin was up bright and early for her first day of her junior year of highschool. Standing before her mirror, she picked out her outfit, then got dressed. She returned to her mirror, her steady hands applying light makeup to enhance her features slightly; not that she needed it, though, as she was already beautiful. 

Nearly an hour later, she was satisfied with her look. She stepped outside her room to grab her bag just as her phone rang. Picking it up, she smiled as she noticed it was from her best friend, Lysandra. 

“Hey, Lys! How’s it going?” Aelin chatted happily on the phone with her friend. They had known each other for years, but that didn’t mean they were always friends. In fact, they had a pretty rough history-- one that included anger, jealousy, and a lot of dresses. 

The two agreed to meet outside the school doors. With that, Aelin ended the call, grabbed her keys, and got into her car to drive to school. 

…

Aelin hopped out of her car and locked it, throwing her keys in her bag before turning and walking towards the school. Anytime someone looked her way, she’d flash them a smile and wave. She kept an eye out for new students, but saw no one unfamiliar. If there are any, she mused, they’re either inside already or going to be late. Walking up the path to the doors, she greeted Lysandra. Lysandra looked stunning as ever; dark hair cascading down her back with slight curls, sharp features capturing the attention of anyone nearby. She was wearing a long green dress, one that flowed around her as they walked, making Aelin feel like she was walking with a goddess. 

“A little cold for a crop top, isn’t it?” Lysandra asked, nodding at Aelin’s shirt. 

“A small price to pay to turn a few heads,” Aelin replied, shrugging. “We’re gonna be inside, anyway. Come on, Let’s go!”

Grabbing her friend’s hand, Aelin rushed up the stairs and entered the building. 

“So, what’s your first class?” Lysandra questioned. 

“English,” Aelin replied. “speaking of which, I should probably get there soon. See you later?”

Aelin gave Lysandra a hug before running off to class. 

Thankfully not late, Aelin slipped into the classroom, heading for a seat near the windows. She set down her bag, when--

“Aelin?” Aelin turned at the vaguely familiar voice. Her eyes met crystal blue, which looked back at her gently. She noticed the messy black hair, cheeky grin, and far too fancy outfit. It could only be one person.

“Dorian?” Aelin all but squealed. She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. “How are you? I didn’t expect to see you in this class! I thought you’d be taking some fancy, extra-hard, extra-homework classes.”

Dorian just laughed and hugged her back. “Don’t worry. Most of my classes are; I just gotta take one easy one.”

Aelin pulled Dorian over to one of the nearby seats, forcing him to sit next to her. 

“Oh great, now you can steal my pens, too.” 

Class started before Aelin could say something back. The teacher started roll call, and even though Aelin had to correct the teacher on her name (again), she had a feeling it would be a good day. 

… 

That feeling was soon crushed. Near the end of class, the door opened, and a girl stepped through. She had pale skin and raven-black hair, and was wearing a ruffled purple dress. Everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at her, but she didn’t seem to notice. Instead, her eyes wandered then fixed on Dorian. Aelin glanced between them and frowned. 

“Dorian. Miss Tardy is looking at you.” 

Dorian looked up from where he was packing his bag. They seemed to make eye contact, and recognition flashed in his eyes. He quickly tore his eyes away and resumed packing. The girl went up to the teacher, and everyone resumed what they’d been doing. Listening in on their conversation slightly, Aelin learned that the girl’s name was Kaltain Rompier. 

As class filed out five minutes later, dorian and Aelin walked together. “So, that new girl,” Dorian started. “Do you think she’s pretty?”

Aelin responded without hesitation. “Her dress reminded me of bruises.” 

-----------

(unedited)

Aelin's first thought when she walked into the gym was "no" the second thought she had was "hell no" it was bad enough she had forgotten to bring her gym bag but what made this absolutely awful was that her cousin Aedion was in her gym class. Now normally she wouldn't mind sharing a class with her cousin. She and her cousin were actually very very close and grew up together, but when they were put in a situation that could be turned competitive you better believe they were gonna make it a competition. This normally wouldn't bother her either but her cousin being a sports and athletics addict who practically lived for gym class would not miss this opportunity to try and show her up. She sighed knowing she couldn't miss her first day of gym class. She'd have to get her cute outfit sweaty. As soon as she stepped foot in the gym she was almost knocked over by a powerful arm being thrown over her shoulder. She caught her footing and turned around and hugged her cousin "hey Aedion" he hugged back with a smile 

"you look nice today"

 "Of course I do I always look nice" 

“Yeah but why are you wearing that in gym class?" 

"Well I…"

"You forgot your clothes didn't you?"

"How'd you know?"

"I can't believe you forgot your clothes on the first day of school!" 

"Whatever"

"Alright well get ready to run"

She sighed and nodded. Gym class preceded exactly like she thought it would. At first everything was going smooth until they lined up for push ups. Aelin looked to her left and saw Aedion looking at her.

"What are you at?" 

"14 you?" 

"20"

She scowled and started going faster. When the whistle blew she had done 58 and she felt her arms where about to fall off. She stood up and took her cousins towel ignoring his protests and wiping her face off. She threw it back at him hitting him square in the face. She smiled as she watched him yank it from his face but let her smile turn into a frown as she felt someone walk up behind her. She turned around to see a Male Towering over her. She crossed her arms at him 

"can I help you Rowan?"

"Why are you wearing that?" 

"Cause I want to"

 she didn't understand why she was getting so much trouble for this? Has no one forgotten gym clothes before?

"You're only wearing half a shirt" Rowan said nodding at her crop top 

“And that's way too tight of a shirt" she responded pointing to his skin tight tank top where his muscles showed through. "Guess it does draw attention away from your awful tattoos" she shrugged and spun on her heel. She could practically feel Rowan scowling behind her as she picked up her bag. The bell rang and Aedion ran up to her dressed in his regular sports jacket and jeans. 

"What was that all about?"

 "What was what all about?" 

"Rowan"

 "He was complimenting my outfit of course" 

"Uh-huh" Aedion nodded not believing a word of it "well I gotta get going only one more class to go!" He ran off eager for the day to be over. Aelin sighed and looked at her schedule. She smiled her last class of the day was Theater Arts with Ms. Florine a teacher she knew quite well. With a grin on her face she hurried off to the theater. She burst in the doors and ran to hug Ms. Florine caught Aelin and spun her around. The two stood there in a warm embrace for quite a while before Ms. Florine patted Aelin on the back and told her to take a seat. She turned and saw a girl in black laced up half shirt, dark torn up jeans, buckle boots, a red leather jacket, and dark makeup slouching in a chair. She had seen this girl before but never really talked to her. Though she has definitely seen her around. She was kinda known around the school for being that bad girl kinda stereotype. All the Blackbeaks that passed through this school were like that so it was no surprise that she was no different. She decided it might be time to get to know her. She wasn't scared of her she could take her down if it came to that. Aelin sat down next to her 

"Manon" she said 

“Aelin'' the Blackbeak said and tilted her head towards her in greeting. there was a moment of silence before Aelin opened her mouth to say something but Manon wasn't looking at her. She was looking at the doorway where a man who Aelin knew well had just walked in. Based on the look on Manon's face she seemed to know the man as well. They both growled the same name...Lorcan. Lorcan sat down at the opposite side of the room and grinned at them "hello ladies' ' he purred. They both snarled which just made Lorcan grin more. Aelin shook her head and looked away back to Ms. Florine but Manon kept Lorcans gaze. Eventually Lorcan looked away and Manon won the first battle of the year. This normally wouldn't have caught Aelin's attention but she had never seen Lorcan look so nervous and it made her happy. Theater continued and she met a girl named Rena Goldsmith who had the most magnificent voice Aelin had ever heard in her life. She really hoped by the end of the year she could be friends with her and they could make music together. This thought is what ended the school day for her. She went to her locker to put away her school stuff and gather her stuff to go home. The school bell rang just as she slung her backpack over her shoulder. A few moments after the bell she saw a familiar figure rushing down the hall. She wondered how Aedion had gotten from the math department to the entry hall in 5 seconds but then again he really hated math. She hurried out as well and made her way to her car. She unlocked her car and got in throwing her purse in the back. She started the car and drove home

Authors note

Hello! I am the author of this fanfic its a pleasure to meet you. This is the first fanfic I've ever written so thats why its not the best but I'm trying so it might improve. Let's hope it does! I want to warn you that some chapters will be super long and some will be super short.  Sorry if I update so rarely. Sometimes i just get bursts of inspiration then go months without touching a keyboard. If you guys like the story I will try to update more so please let me know. I also really want your guys input because this is as much for you as it is for me. Maybe even more for you. So if you want changes or have advice please send them my way. Also i have absolutely no editing skills so i have my own editor (thank her for her patience with me and her talent) but I'm a very impatient person so i may just update without editing. So look out for that.

So yeah that's the end of my little speech thing. You can probably expect these often. Have fun reading and have a good day!

[askvenomandthekids]

those brilliant eyes (harry osborn!venom x reader)

author’s note: man oh man...spiderman ps4 is WILD isn’t it? i’m excited to see that harry osborn is going to be the host for venom...it’s gonna be so ANGSTY and DRAMATIC, and im SUCH A FAN. warning, this will be a LONG fanfic, so sorry for people on mobile. hope y’all enjoy though!

pairing: harry osborn!venom x reader

genre: romance/drama/angst

The first time you saw him, he had brilliant eyes.

Though, that was probably an overstatement. You had seen him around before. You’ve certainly heard of him around your school. Afterall, it wasn’t everyday a rich and handsome teenaged boy attends your high school. Everyone talked about him. Despite his popularity, you’ve never seen him in person, let alone talked to him. You only saw brief flashes of him in the hallways and cafeteria - a tall and lean young man, with smooth brunette hair. 

Up until that point, that’s all you’ve seen of the enigmatic Harry Osborn. He didn’t go to clubs, do sports, or shared any classes with you. If you didn’t know any better, you might’ve thought he was a myth.

Who would’ve thought someone like Harry Osborn would’ve wandered into your crappy part time job?

It was a little later into the evening, after the dinner rush hour. Just one more hour until your shift was up. You decided to kill time by finishing up some English reading - Lord of the Flies. You rolled your eyes, when you remembered you had to read thirty pages for that night’s homework. Such a delightful school read. 

You spent some time like that, plowing through dense paragraphs and flowery prose. You were so absorbed, you haven’t noticed him enter the diner.

“You must be in the advanced classes.” Said a familiar and soft voice.

You sharply glanced up, to see Harry looking at the book in your lap. 

“O-oh? Really?” You stupidly said, your mind scrambled to recover from the surprise.

“Aren’t you?” He asked with an uncertain smile. 

“Er, oh yeah! Right! Silly me! Yeah, I think I’m in the advanced class. It’s uh, not hard though, we just have to read all these novels.” You lifted the book in your hand to illustrate your point. 

“Wish I could’ve stayed.” Harry wistfully commented. He leaned into the counter, closer to you. You secretly took note of how strong his jawline was. “Then we could’ve been in the same class together.”

You were taken aback. Harry Osborn was in your English class? You scoured your early school memories. Faintly, you could make out a tall brunette through your hazy memory. So it was him! How could that have slipped your mind?

“Really? I can’t believe it! I kinda forgot you were there!” 

You bit your tongue immediately upon saying that. That was a little rude, wasn’t it? But, Harry chuckled at your little comment, and ruffled his hair. 

“Yeah, I don’t blame you. I missed so many school days, I was forced to move to a lower level class.” 

“How come?”

Harry began to fiddle with his fingers. His eyes are completely averted now. In this light, they looked more blue than the brilliant gray you saw the last time. 

“I, uh, get sick easily. It’s mostly because my father frets so much over me.” He said, with a shake of the head. You nodded, thoughtful. That must explain why he wasn’t on a sports team, or appeared in any clubs. “I understand his concern, but I’d like to be a little independent, you know? Do normal teenager stuff.” Harry suddenly confessed. 

The novel is closed in your lap now, completely forgotten at this point. When you looked closer at him, you just noticed how...thin he was. His clothes hang off his frame, exposing his bony neck. There is a gaunt look on his face, thanks to the heavy bags under his eyes. You feared if someone so much as shoved Harry over, his body would break into a million pieces.

Before you could say anything else, Harry tried to laugh it off. 

“I’m - I’m sorry, I had no idea where that came from.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I just wanted to get out of the house, and I came here, for some reason. Probably because I was hoping - hoping to see you here. Isn’t that funny? We hardly know each other, and I - I just intrude. I’m sorry. I’m talking to some nice looking person I’ve only seen a few times, and I’m already dumping baggage on you. I’m sorry.”

Wait, he came here because you were here? And he thought you were nice looking? You ignored the thrum in your chest, and your hand shot across the counter. You grabbed his shoulder - it was painfully bony. 

“Hey, hey now. No worries about that. Now that we’re actually talking to each other, we can be friends now, right? So you don’t need to worry about dumping anything on me.” You reassured him, and gently squeezed his shoulder to prove your point. 

Something lit up in his gaze, and they nearly looked gray again. 

From that point forward, your shitty part time job, became a past time you actually looked forward to. Harry would come over, and sit at the usual place. You would give him a plate, piled with food - on the house of course, despite his protests. Between shifts or during shifts, you two could just talk about anything. 

Harry Osborn was no longer a myth - he became a tangible person, and somehow you both became good friends. You were sure if you two had more time together, you might’ve...might’ve even asked him out. Which, was wishful thinking, but what did you had to lose?

On the day where you finally mustered the courage, he didn’t appear at your job. You didn’t sweat it, of course. You knew about Harry’s medical condition, and how it could make him bedridden from a few days to a few weeks. But then, it turned into a few days. Then a week. Then a month. 

You didn’t have to wonder for long about where Harry disappeared to. At some point, Mary Jane and Peter told you that he got sick so badly, his father had to ship him off to a hospital in Europe. 

And just like that, when Harry became real in your life, he disappeared like a ghost. You didn’t had a chance to say goodbye. 

The memory of Harry Osborn faded with time, and the heartache wore off eventually. You still dreamt of those brilliant eyes, and every now and then, you wondered about what could’ve been. But, there was no point in thinking about that. Life had to move on. 

And then, it all came crashing back.

It was a dark and dreary night, and your night shift just ended. You were cold and everything was damp, and you wanted to drink something warm. The last thing you expected was coming across your old highschool job - the diner. Who would’ve thought such a dingy place managed to stay open after all these years?

Out of nostalgia, you entered. This proved to be a fatal mistake. 

The moment you stepped foot in the diner, something blunt is hit over your head. You cry out, and stumble onto the floor. Everything becomes blurry, and all you can feel is throbbing pain. Someone grabs a fistful of your hair, and drags across the floor. Tears streaming down your face, you try wriggling away, but your assailant only pulls harder. 

You make out a hooded figure wearing a horrid clown’s mask. The painted red smile is practically taunting, and hollow eyes coldly look at you. 

“Stay still and shut up if you want to live. You all hear?”

Other people whimper. You weakly twist your head, to see a few other unfortunate hostages, tied up and gagged. Good god, what did you walk into? You bite down your tongue, trying to will away the pain. Try to stay still as possible, when other men begin talking. When you peer from behind the counter, you see a few more hooded and masked men, harshly talking to each other.

“...Damnit, why’d you have to make a scene?”

“Can’t we just kill these bastards and get it over with?”

“No, he said this had to be the place. Now, if some certain jackass didn’t whip out his gun, then we didn’t need to have this hostage situation, huh?!”

“Who you callin’ a jackass?!”

“Shut the fuck up! He’s here!”

The bell jingles softly. Your head snapped towards the door.  A single figure enters the doorway. They’re wearing a black hoodie, their face concealed. The masked men immediately surround this figure, weapons brandished in hand. 

“About time you fucking showed up.”

“You have the goods?”

There’s a ripe silence. The hooded figure says nothing. This quickly gets the masked gang agitated.

“Hey? You listening to us? Where’s our supplies?” The leader jabs a gun at the hooded figure’s chest. Your heart leaps for this stranger. You can only watch from the side, helpless. “Start talking, or we’ll make you.”

“...We’re ending this partnership.” The stranger finally speaks up. His voice is so soft and raspy, you nearly couldn’t make him out. Whatever he said, made the masked men even angrier.

“You’ve got balls. If you think we’ll let you or anyone in this shithole walk out of here, you gotta another thing coming!” A gun is aimed directly at the stranger’s face. Seeing this, you recoil, and dive back behind the counter. The other hostages look at you with wide and frightened eyes. 

Gunshots go off. Your ears ring from the ear grating sounds. You try not to think how that stranger must be dead on the ground, now. Soon that will be you and the others. You shut your eyes, praying for some miracle to happen.

Everything is quiet for a moment.

And then, the masked men start screaming. More gunshots go off. Bullets ricochet everywhere, off the counter, walls, and ceiling. Some lights shatter, leaving half of the diner in the dark. Something growls - it sounded like a lion, but far more deeper and monstrous. You wasted no time panicking. You turn to the other hostages, and begin untying them. Some are asking you what’s happening, while others are crying. 

You tell them to go out the back door, and to get help. If escape was possible, they had to flee while those masked men were preoccupied. 

Just as you untied and ripped off the tape of the lost hostage, you watch her scramble out the door. Shakingly, you get up to follow her - and then something grabs you from behind.

A gun is pointed at your temple. Arms wrap your neck into a chokehold. A voice begins to scream next to your ear. Your captor sounds hysterical, on the verge of tears. 

“Come any fucking closer, and I’ll shoot!”

Weakly you look up to see who the man is talking to - and your heart drops. It’s a monster, a monster that has probably haunted you from your worst nightmares. It’s tall, easily towering you and the man. Inhumane muscles ripple through the creature’s body. Its skin is like solid oil - fluid and shiny, and ebbed with white veins. And it’s surrounded by eviscerated corpses. 

Blood has painted the walls and floors. You can even see bits of flesh sticking to the monster’s chest and its mouth. A freakishly long and prehensile tongue, licks the flesh from its skin. It drags its tongue across his draconian teeth. You gagged, horrified. Did that thing single handedly murdered and devoured those men just a few moments ago? If it weren’t for the adrenaline pumping through your body, you would’ve fainted on the spot. 

The monster hisses, cocking its head at your captor. Its jaw drops open, only to reveal rows upon rows of serrated teeth. Bloody saliva drips down the sides of its mouth. Its pale and pupilless eyes narrow. 

“Stay back!” The man shouts, and his grip on you tightens. You choke out, struggling for air, and begin clawing at the man’s arm. 

The creature lets out a terrible scream, and tendrils shoot out from its back. Something wet is punctured. The man freezes up. You glance over, just in time to see blood pouring out his mouth. Looking down, you see that a black tendril has gone through the poor bastard’s chest completely. 

Unceremoniously, he lets go of you, and collapses, dead before he even hit the floor. You stand there, frozen. The man’s blood has splattered across your cheek and clothes - it’s so sticky and metallic. And then there’s the monster. 

The tendrils retreat into its back. It approaches you, slowly, like a predator. Its teeth glisten in its dark mouth. You’re trembling. Your mouth opens but no scream comes out. You gasp, your mind desperately trying to register this horrible, horrible situation. 

If you were going to die right here, you pray it will be quick. The monster stands in front of you, crouched down. It was still so monstrously tall. It can crush you, like a bug. You’d be squashed and bloodied like those other men. You begin to hyperventilate. 

“DON’T...” It garbles, reaching down for your face. It can speak?

“Oh god, oh god...” You manage to whisper, covering your face in horror. 

“DON’T...BE AFRAID...” What was it saying? What was it saying? It touches your cheek. You try not to see how sharp its claws were. Was this a joke? Tears prick at your eyes. 

The monster stills. And then, its skin begins to peel back. It’s jaws open, peeling back to reveal - to reveal - 

You couldn’t breathe. It’s those eyes. Those - those eyes, brilliant eyes, but no they’re not the same. They’re now so dull, lifeless, pitch black and cold - it was Harry. Underneath the folds of this monster, it’s Harry. His pallid and bony face is dripping with black liquid. He looks at you, blank faced. If it weren’t for those eyes, you wouldn’t have recognized him. But it was him. Unmistakably, it was him. 

“No...” You hoarsely mumble. You couldn’t stand any longer. Your head is throbbing and your heart is beating so fast, it’s just about to give out. You collapse right into the monster’s taloned hands, and everything goes black. 

author’s note; WOWZERS, i wrote a lot. sorry this got so long! 

[thelanguageoflovers]

That Damned Universe - Chapter 4

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

AO3

Cyrus was exhausted. Madame Aguillard had kept them 15 minutes after class ended to discuss in alarming detail all of the accents in the French language. She spent thirteen minutes talking about their various effects on a word and, later on, their origins and applications. As he dropped into his seat in third period science, panting slightly, he suddenly understood the practicality of the preposterous amount of time between his classes. He pulled his science textbook from his bag just as Mr. Stilen stood up from his desk at the back of the room. He strolled across the classroom towards the front, greeting his students brightly. "How was everybody's first day?" he asked, and was answered with a chorus of groans as the students recalled the level of work they'd been assigned the day before. "Oh, don't be so glum. Wait until at least 11th grade to lose hope. Or better yet- wait until you're a sophomore in college," he advised jokingly. The class shared a forced bout of laughter, most students grimacing at the prospect of spending the next five years working as hard as they had the night before. Cyrus merely sighed, resting his chin in the palm of his hand as Mr. Stile introduced the lesson. Cyrus sat through the whole of the lesson, only for history to repeat itself- the class extended to 10:56, leaving Cyrus with four minutes to sprint across campus to his room for his English Lit book before rushing to his class. Cyrus nearly fell up the stairs trying to get to his room, quickly grabbing his book and rushing back downstairs and across campus. He basically sprinted into Mrs. Elliot's room just in time, falling into his seat as the lesson began. By some force of nature- miracle, wishful thinking, or sheer willpower, no one could be sure- class ended at exactly 11:40, and all 31 students in the class rushed out the door for lunch. Cyrus followed the crowd without thinking, and before he knew it he was absentmindedly swiping his meal card and stepping into the cafeteria. Damn. He'd deliberately skipped breakfast that morning to avoid his friends, and now he was going to have to face them. He briefly considered turning around and leaving, but he'd already swiped his card, and leaving would be humiliating. Though, so was standing in the middle of the cafeteria, hands empty and feeling the gazes of Andi and Buffy burning into his skull. He quickly found a plate, dumping the first thing he saw (a ham sandwich on rye, sealed in plastic wrap) onto it before turning back towards the tables. He briefly caught eyes with Andi, whose eyes narrowed before flitting away, before his gaze settled on an empty table in the other corner of the room. His head down, he hurried to the empty table, setting his sandwich down and pulling To Kill a Mockingbird from his bookbag. He rested his chin in his hand and opened the front cover. Just as he flipped the page, someone appeared in front of him. "Ah! God, announce yourself every once in a while," Cyrus said, gesturing to TJ, standing in front of him. "Sorry, Underdog," TJ apologized. Cyrus scoffed at the nickname, shaking his head. "Is that nickname going to stick?" "I think it just might," TJ nodded. "Mind if I sit? My friends have disowned me." he gestured vaguely across the cafeteria, to where an entire table of jocks was staring at TJ, anger in their eyes. "Yeah, of course," Cyrus said, scooping his things off the table, save for the ham sandwich, still lying forgotten at the end of the table. "So you're the one who took the last ham sandwich," TJ said, taking the seat across from Cyrus. "Oh, I- I guess I did," Cyrus said with a shrug. "Have an affinity for ham on rye?" "I guess I do," TJ repeated teasingly. "What do I have to do to get that sandwich from you?" "Oh, you can hav... is that a chocolate chocolate chip muffin?" TJ grinned, sliding Cyrus his muffin and taking the sandwich triumphantly. "I seem to have found your weakness," TJ said excitedly, unwrapping the sandwich and taking a joyous bite from the corner. His eyes sparkled with smug triumph as he swallowed, before biting back into the sandwich. "You have no idea," Cyrus mumbled, taking a bite from his muffin. "So what happened with your friends- if you don't mind me asking?" TJ froze, staring down at his plate and slowly swallowing the bite he'd been chewing before making eye contact with Cyrus once again. "Nothing- stupid friend stuff," he said, waving a hand dismissively. "What about you, Curly and Moe?" "Oh, so we're the Three Stooges now?" "Yep." "What do you mean 'what about you'?" Cyrus asked, stealing a carrot from TJ's tray. "What happened with you three?" "I told you, Buffy and I fought, and Andi's mad at me now. I kind of overreacted yesterday." "Overreacted to what?" "Oh, nothing much- stupid friend stuff," Cyrus said vaguely, looking over TJ's shoulder to where Buffy and Andii were staring at him, talking in hushed voices. "I know it well," TJ nodded, albeit with a raised eyebrow. "What are you looking at? Ah." He turned around to look at Buffy and Andi, then nodded in understanding. "Ostracized?" "Pretty much, yeah. Hence the sitting at this table. I skipped breakfast this morning to avoid them." "I'm sorry, Underdog. That sucks." "Well, you're in the same boat," Cyrus shrugged. "I'm first oarsman," TJ confirmed. "Does that make me... Second oarsman?" "Is that how boats work?" "You think I'd know that?" "I've known you for three days!" TJ defended, sliding his salad across the table. "Here, you need to eat." "Thanks," Cyrus said with a grin, stealing TJ's fork and stabbing at the lettuce.  "But I feel like I am not the kind of person who exudes boating energy." "Did you just use the phrase 'exudes boating energy'?" "Yes, as a matter of fact, I did." "Is this a common choice of words for you?" "Not really," Cyrus admitted. "Alright, if this conversation is anything to go by, we need to play 20 questions." "...The guessing game?" "Not that 20 questions," TJ chuckled. "There's more than one version of 20 questions?" "Apparently so. Anyway, the rules." "Rules?" "Rules," TJ confirmed. "One. We each ask 10 questions about each other- any 10." "So it's really 10 questions, not 20?" "Don't question it. Two. We're allowed to pass on...two questions. Three- no lying, whatsoever. Four. No questions that are too personal-anything an adult would say to avoid at a dinner party, you avoid here." "Interesting measurement of how appropriate a question is," Cyrus noted. "It paints the picture, though." Cyrus nodded begrudgingly, taking a bite of salad. "Continue," he said, waving his fork at TJ. "Alright. The most important rule of them all; tell no one anything we say here. It doesn't matter if it's my favorite color or my deepest secret- we say nothing." "What happens at lunch stays at lunch," Cyrus said, nodding in understanding. "You start." "Okay... Any siblings?" "One half-sister, Emily. She's eight. What do your parents do?" "My mom's a kindergarten teacher, dad's a business guy- Amber and I don't really know what he does." TJ shrugged. "Any idea what you want to be when you grow up?" "Not a clue, but I'll probably end up following in my parents' footsteps." Cyrus took a deep breath, looking up at TJ. "Have a crush on anyone?" he asked, trying his best to even his voice. "...Pass." Cyrus nodded, sighing in defeat. "How about you?" "I...I don't know," Cyrus stammered. "Okay..." TJ said incredulously, seeming to take that as valid answer nonetheless. "Um, what's your favorite book?" "...The Great Gatsby?" TJ replied. "What about you?" "The Grapes of Wrath. What does TJ stand for?" TJ stared at him for a long moment, taking a bite of his sandwich before opening his mouth to speak "...Pass." "Really?" "Yep. Are you religious?" TJ asked. "That is a blatant violation of the dinner party rule, but yes. I'm Jewish. Are you?" "No, I'm not," TJ shrugged. "My parents are though." "Fair enough." "Alright, question 6. What really happened between you and Buffy?" "Pass. What really happened between you and your friends?" "...I can't pass, can I?" Cyrus shook his head apologetically. "Can I lie?" "Do you really want to make that kind of an impression on me?" TJ sighed, shaking his head. "One of them...accidentally outed me. And the others didn't take it so well," he admitted. "Oh, I'm sorry, that's terrible." "What's done is done. Listen, I'm sorry to cut our game short, but I have to get to class." With that, he was gone, rushing out of the cafeteria without a second look at Cyrus. "God, he really has a habit of doing that."

Cyrus and TJ were both sitting cross-legged on their respective beds, each surrounded by a mild flood of books. A sharp knock on the door caused both of their heads to spring up before TJ parted the sea of studying to stand up. The second he opened the door, someone rushed inside, a flurry of limbs and apology. Cyrus jumped slightly, displacing the homework in his lap just enough for three books to tumble to the ground. "TJ, I've been trying to talk to you all day! I am so sorry, man. I didn't mean to-" "Marty, it's fine!" TJ exclaimed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I know you didn't mean to out me, please just sit down." "I'm really really sorry, TJ," Marty mumbled, sitting in TJ's desk chair. As he did so, TJ's twin sister rushed into the room, only to step forward and slap the boy-Marty, TJ had said. "Oh- Oh my God," Cyrus mumbled, watching TJ pull Amber away from Marty. "Amber! Sit down!" TJ ordered, pointing to Cyrus's chair. Amber reluctantly did so, holding her hands up in a surrender. "He outed you, Teej," she grumbled frostily as she sat down, crossing her arms over her chest. "By accident!" TJ protested. "Well, when someone accidentally knocks over a candle, they still burned the house down!" "So not the same thing," Marty cut in, holding his jaw gingerly. "Shut up!" Amber and TJ exclaimed in unison. Just as Cyrus stood up to leave and let them sort this out, Buffy and Andi marched into the room, effectively pushing Cyrus back inside. "Cyrus, can we talk?" Buffy asked. "Good God, I do not want to deal with this right now," Cyrus huffed, sitting back on his bed. "Why are you here, Andi?" "...Moral support?" "Alright," Cyrus said, addressing everyone in the room. "Andi, Amber- get out of our room." "And do what?" Amber asked. "I don't care! Go introduce yourselves, play 20 questions, do homework, find some conveniently placed cups to press to the door-It doesn't matter! Just leave!" Cyrus exclaimed. "Okay, okay," Amber said, holding her the door open for Andi as they left. "Do you think we should go?" she asked Andi. "I want to see how this ends!" "Me too, honestly," Amber agreed, sitting down against the wall next to the door. Andi grinned, sitting next to her. After a moment's silence, Andi turned to Amber, extending a hand. "I don't think we've met." "I don't think we have," Amber agreed, smiling slightly as she took Andi's hand. "Amber Kippen." "Andi Mack." "You're very pretty, Andi Mack," Amber flirted boldly. "As are you, Amber Kippen."

Cyrus and TJ pushed Marty and Buffy out of their room at the same time, letting the door swing shut behind them and flopping onto their beds in exhaustion. "Having friends is exhausting," TJ grumbled. "I'm with you there."

Amber and Andi stood up when Buffy and Marty stepped out of the room. All four exchanged simple introductions, before naturally separating as they walked downstairs; Amber and Andi walking alongside one another, Buffy and Marty mirroring them a few yards behind. "We have 8th/9th PE together, don't we?" Marty asked Buffy, turning to her as they jogged downstairs. "Yeah, seventh period B days. You're really fast," Buffy noted. "Oh, thanks," Marty grinned at the praise, nodding happily. "I'm faster, though, of course," Buffy said. "Why, I'm offended," Marty joked, turning onto the second floor after Buffy. "You and me both know I'm way faster!" "I guess we'll just have to test it out sometime," Buffy flirted, following Andi into their room and letting the door swing shut behind them, leaving Marty and Amber staring at it in defeat. "I guess we will."

[fairlyfantasy-writerblr]

The forgotten

So this is going to be part 1 of a story that I am writing for shits and giggles. It is going to be at least a ten-part story, and I will have it finished, hopefully by September as I am still in high school. So hope you enjoy this!

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Tick. Tick. Tick.

The clock gets louder every second that I wait. 

I don’t mean to, it is just, as every second passes, I don’t get called on and I wait even longer than that. I hate it because I don’t get called on because I don’t stand out.  I was put on mute by my own damn actions and I want to cry.

It’s not like I did it on purpose. The anxiety just caught up to me like it ran a marathon and dragged me under the waves of self-doubt. 

I hate it.

“Kaliana Verand, can you answer for the class what the difference between a chemical and physical change is? I assume since you were asleep in my class that you know all of the chemistry we are doing right now.” I wasn’t asleep, I am never asleep. 

“A chemical change creates a whole new substance and can’t be reversed. I wasn’t asleep, I was paying attention, I swear.” I made a fool of myself. Again. What is Max going to think? I try so hard to not be a failure that reflects on him, but he is a football star, not a studious genius with an eidetic memory. We are compared to each other for our failures and nothing more. We are both failures in our parent's eyes. We should both be the A+ kids with the best athletic abilities in the school. Not one or the other.  We are nothing like Rai, who is both, the golden child, the first-born who they had more time for. Max and I only had each other. We could only hope that was enough.

“Highly doubted Miss Verand, now pay attention because next time you won’t be as lucky.”

I nod meekly with tears in my eyes. The bullies laugh at me, and those I considered friends two years ago shove my books off the desk when I go to leave when the bell rings. 

I should know by now that people change, that every person I know could be completely different in 10 years than they are now. My parents are like that. After Rai graduated, they only shined a light on their eldest. Not the twins who supported each other after that. If not for the fact the neighbours saw us every day they wouldn’t know we lived there. I had gotten that bad. 

I pull out my phone and begin to type out a message to Max.

I am so sorry, our reputation is about to take a hit again, I am sorry.

Within seconds Max replies.

Not your fault, Kal, it's fine. I will keep our parents off our case. I have football practice so you can work on our homework while I put in enough hours for the both of us.

I shoot back an answer just as quickly.

It is. Hopefully, with Rai being in town, they won’t pay any mind to us. If we can stay under their radar, then we are home free. What is the count this week?

He took a moment to answer that, he worked 2 jobs for this. They were high paying and helped us save up. I got 1 high paying job so I had time to do all of our projects. We worked 6 out of seven days and had been for a couple years. We only kept less than 5% of what we made for ourselves. That could come later.

I hit $68,000. You?

I smiled for a moment before answering.

$42,000, Hit that last week, may have gone up.

I turned off my phone as I walked to the football field, just in time to see Max run onto it. We had saved up for 3 years, crunching numbers and doing nothing outside of free activities. We were so close to getting out. We turned 18 in a week, and then we were gone from the hell that is our home. Had my brother and I not known how to care for each other, we would have been dead by now.

I saw Max’s homework and decided to get started with English.

I had to write an essay, “In the world, what is the single most thing that is important to you” I smiled as I knew what his answer was. If his teacher asked, his answer would be immediate-

“Kal”

Just like that, the mood was broken. I dropped Max’s school book and nearly fell off the bleachers. I placed a hand on my chest to calm my heart as I looked back at the person who had frightened me.

“Could you not do that Jackson? I have had quite enough heart attacks for one day, thank you very much. What did you need?” Jackson just smirked and winked at me. If Max had seen that, Jackon would have appeared on his kill list.

“I can’t spend some time with my favourite lady?” His smirk was as sleazy as his personality. I wanted to kick him in his-

“Korland, you have practice, stop flirting with the obliged cheerleader and get down here.” Saved by the coach again. The coach is Mrs. Marlin, and she likes me the most out of all the siblings of the players. Probably because I wasn’t one to complain when she got all the people in the stands to cheer-lead when the guys weren’t feeling up to practice that day. I was a backup cheerleader if they ever needed one, I have the uniform and everything. I was also great at strategies, and she constantly asked me for assistance when it came to the game plans.

“Hey, do you wanna take a ride in my truck with me?” Jackson asked me when he reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Thanks for the offer, but I like not having every STD in existence.” Almost every girl had slept with him in his truck, I refused to walk past it without Max acting like a buffer. As one of the only girls he hadn’t slept with, I was something of a challenge. Being the only one to have not given in to his ‘affections’ so far. He has asked me out every day since 9th grade, I wasn’t giving in yet... or ever for that matter.

“Don’t be like that Verand!” I then laughed when Jackson got a knee to his crotch when Max had heard quite enough.

I grabbed Max’s essay paper and started writing it out. Our handwriting was similar enough that it could pass for the others if it was needed. His essay was simple, to write from his perspective of me. 

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The practice lasted a total of 4 hours, I had finished all our homework within two. 

So I stood in the bleachers waiting for Max to get changed when I noticed something in the distance. Our parent's car.

I had never run as fast as I did to get to Max, who was just walking out. From the panicked look in my eyes, he must have been able to tell that something was up.

“Kal, what’s wrong?! Are you okay? who do I have to fight?” Those words calmed me marginally, but not enough to feel safe.

“They’re here.” Instantly my brother gained a terrified gleam in his eyes before he steeled himself for what was sure to be a confrontation. I did the same, closing my face down and slipping into the mask I used to stay under the radar. The appearance of a frightened little girl who had done nothing wrong. Max took the appearance of a submissive victim. Lies told by our masks, but the only thing that kept us going till now.

We walked quickly, to our car, the one we parked 5 blocks away from our home with. We all but ran towards it, Max in the driver's seat and me taking shotgun. Max pulled on his hoodie and sunglasses, I shoved my head in my Bio textbook and pulled on my hoodie as well.

We drove out but not before passing our parents vehicle. Rai glanced out the window and made eye contact with Max. She recognized us but said nothing. She didn’t become a surgeon by being stupid, she knew how our parents acted around us. So she let us drive by, listening to our parents ramble on about reckless drivers as she mindlessly nodded along at just the right parts.

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We arrived home in one piece and both got ready for work. Me at the hotel and him at the restaurant down the street. We almost had enough to buy the house we had been eyeing, and the owner was willing to cut 10% off the deal because he knew us individually. 

We only had another 2,000 to go, and we had 2 weeks to do it. Our parents were kicking us out the second we turned 18, so the rush was on. No money was to be taken out this week.

We took off in our separate directions, he took the car while I ran. The hotel was 4 blocks away, the mill was 15 minutes away when the roads weren’t busy. 

So as I started my shift, I met 14 new people with an old couple that came by every 4 weeks to drop by. Most of them were kind and considerate when I mentioned that some rooms were being renovated, so due to this the pool in the hotel wouldn’t be open. Except for one family, which I had to call the manager and then the police for. On average this happens once every 5 days. Luckily, the staff here are trained on how to deal with upset customers. My only saving grace.

Coming home was like going from one hell to the other. My parents were demanding that they know where I was, and then told me I was lying. They demanded to see my paycheck, so I grabbed the one I already cashed in and handed it to my parents. They tore it up and told me to stop lying. Rai just watched on with sad eyes. Seeing her Kal being broken down like this must have hurt since she practically raised Max and I.

But such is life, and the power of such is greater than us. I just hope that Max doesn’t need to go through the same when he comes home as well.

[vanilla107]

Get Well Soon (One-Shot)

Hey everyone! So I'm super duper excited about the new Hey Arnold: Into the Jungle movie coming out in a few days that I just HAD to write some fanfiction about one of my favourite couples! I can't wait to see the movie and I hope you all like this! This lovely prompt was given to me by @heyarnoldlovexoxo!

Read on AO3

Fanfic Masterlist

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Helga G Pataki let out a frustrated groan.  

This was all football head's fault.

That wasn't entirely true but hell, she needed someone to blame. At the thought of this she turned her head to look at Arnold Shortman, her beloved, who was sitting a few seats away from her.

They were both in detention.

She could see how annoyed he was with being in detention and she sighed. He just had to play hero didn't he?

It was all because she had been having a bad day.

Her sister, Olga I-am-so-great-at-everything Pataki, had come home from Atlanta last night and tried to do some ‘sisterly bonding’ which obviously hadn't worked. Olga then had the amazing idea to wake her up at the crack of dawn to make breakfast for her parents. So by the time she had gotten to school, she was in a foul mood and her day hadn’t gotten any better.

She had forgotten her English homework at home and seeing the disappointment on Mr. Simmons face was enough to make her feel awful. She didn’t like majority of the teachers but he was an exception. He always encouraged her and she would be lying if it didn’t motivate her to do better. By the time recess started, she just wanted to go home and sleep. Her best friend, Phoebe had already sensed that she wasn’t in the best of moods and thankfully refrained from asking questions.

The peace didn’t last long.

Harold had started to tease her to a point where she was about to sucker punch the guy when Arnold just had to jump in and try to stop her.

She would never hurt her beloved but hell, why did he have to test her? A teacher had stopped them and had seen the screaming match between her and Arnold and had given both of them detention.

Helga sighed her attention turning back to the page in front of her. Their punishment was to write an essay on ‘Why violence isn't the answer’ but she'd much rather write an essay on how the light caught her darling beloved’s golden hair or his gorgeous blue eyes.

The teacher in charge of watching them was Mr. Simmons who was marking math tests when he announced, “ Arnold, Helga, I’m just going to the photocopy room to get something. I won’t be long.”

Without another word he walked out the room and closed the door behind him and immediately Helga started talking to Arnold.

“I seriously can’t believe you Football head!”

At these words, Arnold turned his head and sighed at the bully. Helga noticed that Arnold was already done with his essay and wanted to scream.

Why was he so perfect at everything?

“Believe what, Helga?”

“That you’d decide to play hero! Now you’re stuck in detention too!”

She crossed he arms and glared at him.

“Helga, are you saying that I shouldn’t of stopped you?”

“Well yes! Now you’re stuck here and doing a boring essay all because you just had to stop me! Crimany! Can’t you just let me pummel a guy when I feel like it?”

Helga let out a huff of annoyance and to her surprise she saw a small smile on Arnold’s face.

“Well, violence isn’t always the answer Helga.”

“Are you just directly quoting from the essay or is that actual advice, football head?”

“Maybe, but I know that it’s unusual for you to just lash out at someone. Normally it’s an insult or witty comment but you never lash out. Are you okay?”

Helga froze. Was she really that transparent that Arnold could see how she was feeling? Did that mean he knew how she felt about him?

“Of course I’m okay! I-uh- just had a bad sleep and I ended up waking up really early!” she said confidently.

Arnold raised an eyebrow at her and shrugged his shoulders.

“Whatever you say Helga-”

Arnold’s eyes widened and he clutched his side. Helga looked at him with a confused expression.

“Football head? Are you-?”

Arnold fell to the floor and Helga screamed.

“Arnold!”

She ran to his side and broke out into a sweat. “What’s wrong with you? I don’t know what to do! Help! Somebody!”

Mr Simmons burst through the door and stared at the two ten-year olds.

“Helga, we need to take Arnold to the hospital. This doesn’t look like something the nurse can deal with. Let’s go to my car.”

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

Helga gripped the cup of juice so tightly that Mr. Simmon’s was afraid that it would break. They were waiting outside Arnold’s hospital room waiting to see Arnold. She stared at the wooden door and took a sip of her juice and covered her face with her hands.

According to the doctors, Arnold had appendicitis and he had gotten severe cramps while he was in detention. The doctors had immediately taken him in for surgery and Helga nearly fainted on the spot.

“He’s not gonna die is he?” Helga had screamed as they had taken her beloved to the operating room with Mr. Simmon’s restraining her. Mr. Simmons assured her that since they had gotten him to the hospital and that his appendix was going to be removed, he would be fine.

Arnold was currently asleep and the nurse said that once he woke up, she could visit him. Helga had been waiting for an half an hour and she was getting antsy. Suddenly two figures ran down the corridor and stopped in front of Helga and Mr. Simmons.

Helga recognized them as Arnold’s grandparents, Grandpa Phil and that crazy wife of his, and she felt a little bit relieved that some of Arnold’s family was there.

“Is Arnold okay? We raced over immediately after you phoned us,” panted Grandpa Phil.

“He’s alright Mr. Shortman, Arnold had appendicitis and collapsed in detention. The doctors have already operated on him and he is currently asleep. You can visit him once he’s awake.”

“Oh thank heavens! You hear that, Pookie? Arnold is going to be right as rain!”

Grandpa Phil hugged Pookie and noticed Helga sitting silently in her chair, looking at the floor.

“Oh, this is Helga. She was with Arnold when he collapsed and called for help. She’s in a bit of a shock but was very brave. She helped me carry him to the car and was calm the entire way through,” said Mr. Simmons with a smile.

Helga didn’t feel brave. She had been shaking furiously when she carried Arnold to the car and had been on the verge of a meltdown in the car. It was a miracle that she hadn’t fainted at all.

“Well then! I thank you, Helga! That must’ve been quite a traumatic experience for you but you saved our boy!” grinned Grandpa Phil and Pookie gave Helga a bone-crushing hug.

“Can’t...breathe..!” Helga gasped and Pookie let go and giggled.

Helga gave the old couple a smile and a nurse walked out of Arnold’s room.

“Arnold is awake. You may see him now,” the nurse said with a smile and Helga ran into the room. She saw him sitting up in his bed, still looking sleepy and his hair looked ridiculous. She ran to his bed and threw her arms around him. Arnold was surprised at the sudden gesture of affection but slowly put his arms around her.

“Don’t ever do that again, football head,” she whispered and felt the tears drip from her cheeks.

“Well I only had one appendix, so I promise it won’t happen again, Helga,” he said.

Arnold couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Was Helga Pataki crying because she was worried about him?

Helga let go of him and stood up from his bed. He looked so small in his hospital gown and he had an IV drip attached to his arm.

“I think I need to sleep for a thousand years because I’m exhausted,” murmured Helga and Grandpa Phil put a hand on her shoulder.

“Thank you for caring about our boy, Helga. It’s late and I think you should be getting home. Do you want us to drop you off at home?”

“It’s okay. You spend time with football- I mean- Arnold. Mr. Simmons can take me home.”

Mr. Simmons nodded and they said their goodbyes.

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

The school was a buzz of news the next day because of Arnold being in the hospital.

Helga had found out from Phoebe that Arnold had to stay at the hospital overnight to recover and naturally, if people didn’t know the full story of events….they tended to get a little twisted. She had heard many different stories about Arnold. The one that he had been attacked by an intruder after school and had to be rushed to hospital was currently the most ridiculous one and Helga chuckled to herself. She was planning to visit him after school to just check how he was doing.

“Class, there’s a math test tomorrow, so please study hard!” said Mr. Simmons as he handed out revision worksheets. There was wave of disappointed groans.

“Darn it, I was planning to visit Arnold after school but I have to study for this test. I can’t fail math,” groaned Gerald.

Helga sat up and felt a little sorry for Gerald. He just wanted to visit his friend but now he couldn’t because of the test. She sighed and nudged Phoebe.

“Hey, hair boy!” she whispered to Gerald. He groaned and turned to face her.

“What do you want?” he asked. Helga rolled her eyes.

“Listen up, I’m planning to visit football- Arnold after school so if you want...you can make him a card and I’ll give it to him.”

Gerald’s eyes widened and he looked at her as if she’d grown a second head.

“What? Why would you visit him?”

“Ugh, I was with him when he collapsed okay? He had appendicitis and I helped. Can you blame me for want to see if he’s okay since I literally had no idea what was wrong with him and thought he was dying?” Helga said in a whole breath.

“Wait..you were there?!” Gerald exclaimed.

Helga ran her hand down her face and took a deep breath.

“Are you going to make him a card or not, hair boy?”

Gerald nodded slowly and Helga grinned.

“Oh and I’m sure Phoebe can help you study for the test tomorrow, right Pheebs?” Helga nudged her small friend who had gone a brilliant red.

“Y-yeah, s-sure!”

Gerald grinned and Helga noticed the blush on his cheeks.

“Have that card ready by the end of today, otherwise no card for Arnold.”

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

Arnold’s jaw dropped when he saw Helga stroll into his hospital room with her arms full of cards and flowers. He also noticed the ‘GET WELL SOON’ balloon tied around her wrist and the how out of breath she was.

“Helga- what is this?”

Helga dumped the cards on his bed and put the flowers on the desk next to his bed.

“I swear you have way too many friends,” she groaned as she untied the balloon and tied it to the bed and looked at him.

Gerald had told their whole class that a ‘messenger’ was going to take get well soon cards to Arnold after school since they all had to study math and the whole class had immediately started working on their cards. Helga was happy that he didn’t mention her. The last thing she needed was the class teasing her about caring. When Gerald handed Helga more than thirty cards all from students and teachers as well as flowers and a balloon she thought the delivery would be impossible. Thankfully she had managed.

“So? Read them!” she huffed and sat down at the end of the bed.

Arnold looked at all the cards and picked up the first one he saw. It was from Gerald. And the next one was from Lila then Eugene then Rhonda then Phoebe and- he had received cards from almost everyone he knew. He read each one, his smile growing bigger and bigger. Once he had finished the last one he looked at Helga.

“Helga this is….thank you.”

“Well you should thank your friends. We have a math test tomorrow so most of them couldn’t visit you so I told them to make cards instead.”

Arnold was silent.

“But...why would you visit me? I thought you hated me?”

Helga froze and she mentally slapped herself.

“I-I was worried okay? I went through a really traumatising experience yesterday football head and I had no idea what appendicitis was until the doctors said so! I thought you were dying! Can you blame me for being worried? I mean who would I call football head if you died, right? Hahah,” she laughed nervously.

Arnold stared at her before smiling.

“But...you just said that there’s a math test tomorrow...don’t you need to study?”

Helga glared at Arnold, the faintest blush on her cheeks.

“Arnold can you just leave the situation alone and read all your cards otherwise I’ll hit you so hard you’ll need another surgery.”

“Okay, Helga,” he said with a smile.

The nurse came in with a bowl of soup and Helga ushered her out.

Helga watched as Arnold started to eat but she noticed he was having difficulty.

“Jeez, if you want help just ask football head.”

She scooted closer to him and took the bowl and spoon in her hands. She scooped up a small amount of soup and blew on it before stopping the soup in front of his mouth. He opened his mouth and closed it around the spoon and ate the soup. Helga repeated the process until the soup was all eaten and she put the bowl on the side.

Arnold noticed a pink card on his bed that he hadn’t read yet and picked it up.

“I missed one...it’s really pretty,” he murmured as he opened it and Helga nearly fell off the bed.

“Arnold no-! Don’t read it-!”

Arnold had already opened the card and his eyes widened as he began to read out loud.

Arnold.

I can’t believe you have so many people that care about you. It’s actually sickening.

Anyway, I’m happy you’re feeling better. It was scary going through that experience with you yesterday and I guess I’m happy you’ll be back at school in no time. It’s really boring without you. I suppose I do care about you...a little. I mean I decided to not study for math to visit you instead but you’ll probably never read this, since I’ll burn it after I visit you.

Good to see you again, Arnold.

Love Helga

Arnold looked at Helga who was dying internally.

“That...fell out of my p-pocket and y-you were n-never supposed t-to read i-it.”

Arnold was silent and Helga wanted him to say something, anything.

“I knew you cared….deep down. Thank you for all of this Helga.”

He gently crawled to the end of the bed and hugged her.

“Thank you,” he repeated and Helga slowly put her arms around him. The hug lasted a good two minutes and the sun was just starting to set, bathing the hospital in golden warmth.

After the hug, Helga cleared her throat.

“Well Arnold if any of this- and I mean any of this- gets back to the gang at school...you’ll wish you had appendicitis all over again,” she threatened but she knew that she was blushing.

Arnold grinned.

“Whatever you say Helga, whatever you say.”

[thatbangtanbloom]

her || knj

Kim NAMJOON | | her

 angst, traces of fluff | namjoon x you

college!au

&&- Drabble

    – “Can you come over so I don’t feel so lonely anymore?”

    Every fraction of Namjoon trembles whilst he lays on his couch. He had done it again – he had gotten the best marks in his class; mustered up the courage to finally talk to the girl his friends always bothered him about; he even managed to pull off being valedictorian and got the news in the middle of his Philosophy class. Namjoon, the brain, the human computer, he had done it again. He made himself feel logistically whole – again, but why did it continue to feel so belittling of him?

 He couldn’t talk to any of his friends about it. They would never understand. They would give him the usual treatment; Jungkook congratulating his hyung with a cheeky smile on his lips. Then, Taehyung would strategically (sometimes Namjoon could not even begin to fathom how that boy’s brain works) convince him into going into a long rant about what it means to truly live. Yoongi would sit, slouched in Namjoon’s favorite chair with his phone on his thigh – eager to write down another composition that would fall into his mind. After noticing Namjoon would not be fully engaged in the gathering, Jimin and Hoseok would convince him that if he’s feeling like he’s lacking because of his dance skills (which he mostly didn’t care for – but he still would defend himself, telling him that he was in fact nicknamed Rap Monster, not Dance Monster), it’s okay because Seokjin was not exceptional at dance either. This, in turn, would have Seokjin, as usual, would commend Namjoon on his high marks, but then tell him that they were incomparable to his natural good looks – this always earned a harmonious from the chorus of the six remaining boys and Seokjin will chastise them with his infamous ‘Yah!’.

The feeling that Namjoon was feeling was not that he did not full whole – the honest to god truth was that he was. He felt so whole of everything. He felt whole because of his friends, his family, hell, he even felt whole with his future laid out in front of him.

Though, the one question that had been posed to him in Philosophy class dawned on him – what good is being whole when a fraction of him felt lonely?

The idea of being saturated in loneliness plunged Namjoon into an icy lake of self-deprivation. To him, he was the furthest thing from lonely. He was content with piling thousands upon thousands of knowledge from white pages in black ink. He was content with the six friends that he spent nearly every moment with. He was content with the loving smile of his mother and father; the warmth that his sister gave him whenever he came from university.

    So why had it felt like he had yet to get over the pinnacle of loneliness?

      This question burdened Namjoon; not because of the question itself, but the answer. Her.

     She was not the cliché girl that ‘good’ boys like him fawned over. She was mediocrely good. He had not been enthralled in her perfect grades because they were not. No part of him longed for her carelessness because she had none. She, to the naked eye, was no more than an average girl with average grades and an average personality. Her, in herself, she was thought to be no more than average.

  Except to him.

  Namjoon could remember how warm she felt as the two sat beside one another in the library. He could never ignore the thumping of his heart or how timidly she squeezed his hand in hers – no doubt making the first move. He, now, more than ever, longed for her small post-it notes of encouragement; the late-night conversations they shared over Google Docs and Slides while working on their projects together. Every fiber of his being longed for her now. Too much time had passed since he had last seen her – heard her voice.

He had to act.

Namjoon hastily scrambled to grab his phone. His hands trembled as he dialed her number. With clammy hands and his lungs that burned incessantly, he didn’t care to notice the phone ringing on the other line. He had to get it off his chest.

   “Jaeun-ah,” He chokes out her name, eyes closing deeply. “I miss you so much… why can’t you come back to me? I wish you still loved me.” Namjoon hated how his voice nearly cracked between syllables, but he did not care. It’s not like she would pick up for him anyway. “I was such an idiot to let you push me away like that… I should have seen what everything was doing to you.” He closes his eyes deeply. “I-I should have been better for you.” He stammers over his words, finding it hard to speak when his lungs had felt as though they were on the outset of a thousand flames.

    “Everyone tells me how nice it is to be whole and full. I guess that’s why I only took and took from you – I never cared much to do more than just the cordial actions that were expected of me. I love you so much and I feel so empty without you in my arms…. Or full without you in my arms… I really don’t know right now.” He runs his fingers through his hair in pure uncertainty. “I miss us running in the rain. Aish, it felt so dumb back then but I would give anything in my possession just to do that with you again... I miss our dumb talks about life and how we would never get married but god, we both know that we would marry each other.” He licks his lips, wetting them as though he could not speak without that nervous mechanism being performed. “Do you remember the first time I saw you? I do... I remember your beautiful laugh... the shaking of your shoulders when you did so... we held hands by accident....” His mind runs a mile for a minute, unsure of what begins and ends as he proceeds. “I’ve almost forgotten your face…” He swallows before he can go on, “I just…” He pauses, garnering courage to try to go on. “Can you come over so I don’t feel so lonely anymore?”

His heart thuds in his ears as he hears your voice spill into the receiver, “Excuse me, but who is this?” Your brows knit together in confusion at his voice. You had been receiving calls from this same caller for days. “Hello…are you still there?”

“Who is this?” Namjoon is stunned as he hears your voice on the other line. He forgets to breathe immediately. His sudden rush of nerves takes the words out of his mouth as well. “You answered… Jaeun’s phone.”

You blink, brows knitting together as you close the binder to your English Composition homework. “I’m sorry… but I’m not Jaeun. My name is Y/N….” You rub your neck, a sense of pity wallowing through you at the person on the other line’s words. “Who is this?”

“Oh… my name is Namjoon.” He forces himself to do his best to stifle his sniffle; he fails. How awkward could this be for him?

Your heart softens at his tone, “Hello Namjoon…” you say awkwardly, not exactly sure on what to do in the situation. The name sounds undeniably familiar. Had he been in any one of your classes before?

“I’m sorry to bother you… It’s just that, my ex-girlfriend used to have this number before she died.” Namjoon states bluntly. His bottled-up emotions make him lose his inhibitions he has in telling you about Jaeun. “For the last few months, this phone number hasn’t been active and I usually call it to sort of talk to her.” He admits sheepishly. “Wait, was that too much? I feel like- “

You’re quick to cut him off, “-no, it’s fine.” You say, rubbing your arm to coax yourself into relaxing more. “I know how it feels to lose someone you love… If you ever need to, you can call me and I’ll talk to you…” You can hardly believe the words that come out of your mouth. Was this even appropriate? “-since you said you felt lonely… you know... but if Jaeun was still here, I know she would love you irrevocably.” You add, sheepishly; all contents in your English binder now forgotten.

And for the fire time in months, Namjoon truly smiles. It’s a bit strained and lopsided – but nevertheless, he smiles. He looks up from his potato-chip crumb filled lap before glancing up at his ceiling as he settles into the couch more.

“Thank you… Y/N-ah,” He says, the name sounding foreign on his lips.

You say, chewing on your lip. “And Namjoon...?”

Namjoon allows a small humming noise to emit from him as a response of ‘yes?’.

“It’s okay to not be whole or full all the time... You don't need someone to make you feel less lonely.... You can be alone but not be lonely.” You say, your words immediately striking a chord within Namjoon immediately. “Not everyone is meant to be like that every second, minute, hour, or whatever. If you get lonely… or the pressure is too much,” You bite your lip. “You can always call me. Goodnight.” You whisper before you hang up.

It is safe to say that Namjoon goes to bed feeling a little less lonely that night.

[netlifxandcastielclosed]

Forrest Green Forrest Blues (ch1)

Excuse me while I cry in the corner of this site because I deleted this original post on accident and I hate myself because I am standing in the doorway waving bye bye to all of those lovely notes and reblogs and kind words. Anyways, I am reposting this and I’ll be relinking everything. 

Pairing: Castiel x Dean (High School AU)

Words: 2160

Warnings: Nothing really in this chapter. Just getting some groundwork done and meeting the characters.

Notes: This series is based on a bunch of Frank Ocean songs. I got major destiel feels after listening to him all week. So here we go, some destiel AU for your enjoyment. Pull out the tissue boxes.

Summary: Castiel Novak, Carver High’s nerd of the century, always sits at the top of the bleachers when he best friend drags him to games.  He could care less about what the score is because his entire focus is on the feeling of the cigarette between his lips. His only pull to the field is when Dean Winchester, the popular quarterback graces the field with his presence. This is their last year before graduation and everything is about to change.

Ch. 2 Ch.3

Senior year for Castiel had begun and the hallway walls were plasters with student painted banners advertising the homecoming football game. The blue-eyed kid couldn’t wait for the year to be over. He wanted to get out of the dreadfully small town he grew up in and move to California where his sister now lived. He knew life had so much more to offer than stingy diners and suburban neighborhoods where everyone knew everyone else’s business. The biggest news to hit the town this month was that Mrs. Mills’ cat was saved from the old oak tree. What a joke.

Castiel walked mindlessly down the south wing with his best friend Charlie while she rambled on about her new classes and how she was planning to hack one of the teacher’s lesson plans.

“It will be the biggest laugh of the year if I get Mr. Singer to show the class that video within the first week,” laughed Charlie. She saw that Castiel was staring off into the distance, not paying attention to a word she just said. “Hello? Earth to Cas… It’d be funny, right?” She waved her hand in front of Cas’ face to bring him back to reality.

“Huh? Oh, yeah… sure, “murmured Cas, as he kept walking and nearly running into a stray garbage can.  

“Thanks for your support, best friend,” Charlie said sarcastically while she punched him in the shoulder.

“Sorry, Charlie. I’m just distracted.” Cas sighed and shrugged.

“No kidding… What’s got your brain all fuzzy?” They both stopped when they reached their neighboring lockers.

“Nothing. I just was thinking about California again.”

“Oh right. Your big plans to leave me high and dry after graduation! How could I forget?” Charlie closed her locker after picking out a few books and then leaned on it, waiting for Cas to gather his supplies. “You just can’t wait to leave us all here in the dust, can you,” moped Charlie.

“It’s not like that… plus you could always come with me if you wanted.” Cas finished up and they started walking to their next class.

“You know I can’t do that, Cas… I’ve got my mom to think about.”

“True. Sorry.” There was a brief moment of awkward silence but the five-minute warning bell cuts it off.

“Don’t worry about me, Cas. I’ll be fine here! I’ve got all these lame-os to keep me entertained.” She gestured to the rushing late students sliding through the halls. “ Tell you what… you can make it up to me by coming to the homecoming game tonight with me. I hacked the cheerleader’s uniform order and now their skirts are two inches shorter than they were supposed to be! It’s going to be glorious!”

“Really? A football game… can’t I just make it up to you by doing your English homework?”

Charlie didn’t answer him back. The screechy voice of their math teacher yelled at them through the door to take their seats. There was no use in arguing with Charlie anyhow; she was annoyingly persuasive without effort.

That night, Castiel sat at the very top of the bleachers while the rest of the school stood, cheered and sang along to their team’s fight song.  Sports were never Castiel’s cup of tea. He’d much rather be at home, reading books and listening to music. But the least he could do was pretend to have a good time. He watched Charlie gush over the cheerleaders and giggle at each of them trying to pull their skirts down further.

Cas was the only one who knew Charlie liked girls. In a small town like theirs, that news wouldn’t go over too well with the community. So he understood why she kept quiet but he felt special having been the only one she trusted enough. Cas hadn’t even fully come to terms with his own ever-changing sexuality. He hadn’t even told Charlie about it yet. But he wasn’t even sure what he could label himself as; he just loved… everyone. Not anyone in this town of course, but just people in general. They were all beautiful to him and he wanted to be able to experience it all without boundaries.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the song was over and the game began. Castiel paid as much attention as he could to the game before some kids playing tag on the playground nearby distracted him.

“Wow! Did you see that play? There’s no way the other team can catch up now!” Charlie whooped and hollered down to the field as the team ran by and waved to their fellow classmates.

Castiel was just about bored out of his mind when something caught his eye. The quarterback was doing a victory dance surrounded by cheerleaders. He put his hands behind his head, made an arrogant duck face with his lips and swayed his hips from side to side.

“Oh great… here we go again. The beloved Dean Winchester, eating up all the attention being thrown at him. He just loves being a ham, doesn’t he?” Castiel rolled his eyes and pulled out a cigarette and lighter from his back pocket. He lit it and took a long drag.

Charlie wasn’t even paying attention to him anymore. For a nerd, she was surprisingly very into sports and she was wrapped up in yelling at the ref for a bad call. So Castiel sat back and babied his death stick while watching the next play. Without knowing why Cas couldn’t peel his eyes away from Dean. He scoffs at each of his arrogant movements but appreciated the way his body gracefully spun and dodged the opposing team. He couldn’t help but smirk to himself when Dean reached the end zone. Cas didn’t understand why he was taking such an interest in this guy… there wasn’t even anything entirely intriguing about him other than his obvious good looks. Castiel shrugged it off and then extinguished the ending butt of his cigarette onto the bleacher seat.

--

“Okay, class… today we will go through chapters two and three. Then I will assign you project partners for the year and we can get started on our first assignment,” explained Ms. Hanscum.

The instructions generated some bothered grumbles and a few eye rolls. Most of the class wanted to pick their own partners, which the teacher knew would just end up in a mess of distracted teens. So, she chose to randomly assign partners and avoid any of those issues. Ms. Hanscum was Castiel’s favorite teacher. She was funny, smart and accepting. All of which are rare characteristics to find in people of this humdrum town.

“Okay… let’s see… Kevin! You’re with, Lena. Hm… Sam? You’re with… Jo! Now Charlie… who should we pair you with… let’s go with Lisa.” Charlie whooped under her breath, happy she got partnered with the beautiful head cheerleader.

“Sebastian? I’m putting you with Richard. Just don’t take advantage of my kindness on this one, okay? No funny business!” The two trouble making boys gave each other knowing smirks and chuckled to themselves. Ms. Hanscum went through the roster one by one, pairing everyone off. Just when Castiel thought he was forgotten, he heard his name.

“Castiel?”

“Yes, Ms. Hanscum,” Cas looked up from his desk patiently waiting to hear who he’d be stuck with for the new few months.

“I’m pairing you with Dean Winchester.”

The charming green-eyed student looked up and caught eyes with blue ones. They exchanged awkward smiles and waves across the room and then waited for the rest of the class to be paired off. Class ended and the room was nearly clear when Mrs. Hanscum called Castiel to her desk before he left.

“Mr. Novak? Do you have a moment? I need to speak with you about something.”

“Sure, Ms. H,” Cas replied. “I’ll catch you later Charlie. Save me a seat in Bio.” The messy haired kid waved to his friend and then dropped his bag into a seat.

“Okay… so Castiel… I asked you to stay back after class to discuss this year's project partners situation.”

“Okay…”

“You’re probably wondering why I paired you with Dean Winchester.” The kind-hearted teacher sat against her desk, facing her student. “I originally planned on pairing you with Charlie because I know how well you two work together. Then I thought about you and about how incredibly smart you are and how it would go to such a waste if it couldn’t help other people.”

The praise made Castiel blush. Sure, Cas was smart but he also was kind of a rebel. Always making it a point to stick away from the social norm. But he made sure that everything he did, no matter how crazy or fun, it would never compromise his intelligence. Ms. Hanscum was still rambling on about how impressive Cas’ test scores were last year and to Cas it just went in one ear and out the other.

“So back to my original point… Dean Winchester.” She paused for a moment waiting for a response.

“What about him,” Cas asked nonchalantly.

“He’s smart. I know it… but he’s got this bad rap. He is under a tremendous amount of pressure to be perfect. He is the star of the football team and popular… he is under the microscope of this entire school and everyone expects beyond greatness from him. But his grades are slipping; he barely passed my class last year. I think he’s dumbing himself down to look cool. Like some cracked up joke that makes his friends laugh. I’d hate to see him fail over something so immature. So I think it is time for him to surround himself with other types of people.”

“Other people,” Cas asked curiously.

“Yes. People like you. People that aren’t afraid to be themselves or to take risks when they seem scary.”

“Okay,” said Castiel, still confused about her main point. “What exactly do you want me to do about this?”

“So I not only want you to be his project partner this year but I also want you to tutor him… and maybe think about spending time with him outside of school. You know… show him what life can be like beyond this town. There is a whole other world out there and I know you know this... I even hear from Charlie you are thinking of going to college in California.” Ms. Hanscum stood back up and started to organize her desk.

“But Dean doesn’t even know I exist. I don’t even know what I would say to the guy beyond giving him a few book suggestions. We come from two completely different worlds…”

“Exactly,” smiled Donna. “That is what I am hoping for… I know you can do this, Castiel. Just be yourself and everything else will fall into place.” She finished packing up her book bag and started to head out the door. “Thanks again for doing this, Castiel. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Castiel sat for a moment trying to figure out how it was possible to have agreed to this without even saying yes during that entire conversation. He shrugged it off, gathered his things and left the classroom. He was half way down the hall when he saw Lisa leaned on the lockers with Dean pressed against her. Of course, they were making out… typical. Head cheerleader dating the captain of the football team. Their school might as well have been the site for a bad teen RomCom movie. Castiel tried to avert his eyes as much as possible and scurried by them unnoticed. He was suddenly stopped short by a captivating voice. It was deep and smooth like a well-aged whiskey. 

“Hey, Cas! Wait up!”

“Huh? Me? Oh… Hello, Dean.”

“So I guess Ms. H talked to you about tutoring me after school, huh,” Dean commented through his side smile. Castiel noticed his perfect teeth and smooth lips. God, that was annoying.

“Yeah, she mentioned it I guess,” lied Castiel. “You knew about that?”

“Mhm… she asked me if I’d be cool with it yesterday.” Castiel was surprised. He didn’t think Dean even knew who he was, let alone have the guy talk about him with their teacher. He even used the shortened version of his name. “So did you agree? I could really use the help with this class.”

Then Cas realized that Ms. H probably only talked to Dean about the tutoring part of the deal, not so much the being friends part. He figured he’d spare the guy the embarrassment and act as if he knew the same.

“Yes. Of course, I’ll help you,” Cas said sternly but with a small smile.

“Great! That’s awesome… thanks, man.” Dean slapped Cas on the shoulder and he practically fell over from the impact. “This is going to be a great year.”

Castiel would later come to realize this was true. He just didn’t know it yet.

[scribbling-scribbles]

1.1.1. meeting

Story outline

God, he was tired. 

Will leaned back into the cracked bus seat and sighed. There had been a math test today and an English paper due, then he had robotics club with Joe. He had a physics lab the next day and had to make dinner when he got home. Emma was at girl scouts and his mom was working. 

Oh well. At least he could play whatever music he liked while he cooked. Will blinked sleepily, slipping into the space just between waking and dreaming.

A woman sat a few rows in front of him, wearing a thick grey coat. He blinked again, and she became a wolf-headed creature with silver armor. Will jerked himself awake, but when he looked again, she was just a woman in a grey coat. He must have made some sort of sound, because she turned to look at him. He offered a shaky smile, and she returned it with a toothy grin. Was that too many teeth? Were they just a bit too sharp? No, he was being paranoid. 

The woman got off at the next stop, and several new passengers came on, including a girl (maybe his age?) with hair much to red to be natural, and wearing what looked like a black leather fencing jacket. Will settled back into his seat. His was the next stop.

The girl was staring at him. He he gave her a look. She smiled brightly and sat down next to him.

"So, how've you been?"

"Excuse me?"

"C'mon, you can't have forgotten me already, it's only been a few months," she was still wearing a friendly, open, smile. She didn't look crazy.

"I think you have me confused with someone else," Will said as he got up to leave. That was enough weird for one day, thank you. He had homework and dinner to deal with. 

"No, wait," the girl grabbed onto his sleeve with a surprisingly strong grip.

“Hey!”

"You're Will,” the girl spoke quickly and intensely, “You have a little sister, Emma, and you live with your mom. It's me! You remember me right?" The bright smile was beginning to wobble, "Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you right away, it's been... busy, but I promise I'll stay in touch now."

What. The. Heck. Who was this? How did she know him? Will had like, two friends, he wouldn't have forgotten a third.

"Who are you?"

The smile had a faintly hysterical quality to it now, "No, that's not funny, Will. Why is everyone acting like they don't remember me? It's me! I'm your best friend! Look," she yanked up his sleeve, bearing his right wrist and a worn thread bracelet. What? He didn't remember that, "I made that!" She held up her own wrist, displaying a similar bracelet, "you made this one."

Will looked down at "his" bracelet, then the girl's bracelet. Both were made of faded thread, knotted into the kind of friendship bracelets you made in third grade. They looked old, and the girl's had reddish brown stains. Will looked at the girl's face, round, with warm brown eyes and freckles, framed by tomato red hair pulled into a stubby braid. The hope, near desperation, shining out from it.

It was very vaguely familiar, like the memory of a memory. 

It wasn't entirely impossible for them to have met before. 

But to have been friends? Best friends? Will hadn't had any friends before starting high school, and there was no way of him forgetting someone that quickly.

But the girl was so persistent, insisting they had known each other, even as Will denied it again and again.

The girl... wasn't it odd that in all her insisting, she had never mentioned her own name?

"What's your name?"

"You-? No. No, that won't work, it's different now," the hope had left the girl's face, she was just desperate now. She finally let go of Will's arm and broke her steady stare, "I, I gave it away," she dug her fingers into her scalp, disturbing the braid, "I didn't even think about why, or why no one ever..."

This, this was freaking Will out. 

Other passengers were finally starting to glance over at them, and Will took that as his cue to leave. He started to back away from the girl, and, oh geez, she was crying now.

But, as if sensing his movement, the girl whipped her gaze up to face him again, "Will," she said, "Will, I'm so sorry," she sounded like she meant it.

What was freaking him out more was how familiar it felt.

"Hey," Will said, stepping back towards her, reaching out to touch her hand, and it felt like reflex, "It's going to be okay. You're going to be okay." The girl whimpered, screwing her eyes shut and clutching his hand. "What can I call you?" And Will got the strangest sense of deja vu as he sat down next to her.

"Red," she whispered, "They call me Red now."

"Okay, Red," Will continued, using the same voice he used to use when baby Emma was being fussy, "I have to go home now, but I would like to see you again," The more time he spent with Red, the more he felt like there was something he was missing, "Do you know the library by the bagel store, across from the high school?"

She nodded, still not opening her eyes.

"Okay," Will said, "It's going to be okay. Can you meet me there, tomorrow, at three o'clock?"

"Mmm hmm," Red nodded again, eyes still closed.

"Okay. I'm going to meet you by the book drop, and then we're going to talk."

"Okay," Red whispered. Her grip was really, really strong. Will was losing feeling in his fingers.

The bus finally screeched to a halt at Will's station. 

He gave Red's hand a final squeeze before leaving the bus. There were another three blocks to walk before he reached his house. When he finally got there, he didn't put on music. He took off his bag and coat, and put them away. He poured himself a glass of water and sat down at the kitchen table. He looked down at his wrist, where Red had shown him a bracelet. Looking at it directly, there didn't appear to be anything, but Will found that if he squinted or tried to look at his wrist from the corner of his eye, something flickered in to view, like a faint star.

What the HECK, he thought again, finally getting a start on dinner. When Emma and their mother finally arrived home, Will ate quickly and then excused himself, ostensibly to do homework.

And he did try to do some homework, but with all that had happened he couldn't concentrate. His mind rushed from point to point, trying to find some connecting thread, and coming up with nothing.

He groaned, running a hand through his hair, then reached for his phone. He picked up the device, opening text messages, and then stopped. Who was he planning on talking to? Peter hated puzzles like this one, no clear objective or end in sight, and Joe had work until nine and always complained about the terrible cell service he got there. 

That left... that left no one. Will didn't have any other friends he could casually text.

Why did it feel like he was forgetting something, someone?

God, he was tired.

He tossed his phone to the side, then leaned forward, gently but repeatedly banging his head on the tabletop.

Think, he commanded his brain with each collision, think, THINK. What are we missing?

Emma came in without knocking, flopping herself face up onto his bed. "Stop banging your head," she said to the ceiling, "It's loud."

"Hmm," was his elaborate reply, and he left his head resting on the desk.

"Wanna talk?" Emma sat up, plucking a reversible ball off Will's dresser and throwing it lazily, "Or is it nerd stuff? If it's nerd stuff, don't bother."

Will turned his head, leaving his cheek smooshed onto the desktop, "Emma, you are in advanced English and math."

"And your point is?"

"We're both nerds."

"Whatever," she deflected, throwing the ball until it almost hit the ceiling, shifting colors with each toss. Blue to red, red to blue, "No physics or metaphysics, then. So, what's up?"

"I feel like I'm forgetting something really important," he finally said, after a minute’s hesitation. He wasn't going to tell anyone about the girl in the bus just yet. It felt too strange and too... personal to share it just yet, "Or someone important," well, not outright, at least.

"Mmm," Emma replied, leaning back, but still throwing the ball. Blue to red, "I think everybody gets that sometimes."

Red to blue, "Yeah, but I've been getting it way more lately," Blue to red, "I don't know, man. It just makes me edgy."

"Oooh, 'edgy'," she smiled, red to blue, "You gonna back that up with some hard hitting poetry? Get some piercings?" 

"No one in this family understands me," Will leaned back, throwing one arm across his face dramatically, "Get out, I've got homework."

"No," she said, getting up from the bed, "Never," she walked over to the door, "I'm here forever," she shut the door behind her.

"Love you!" Will called after her. 

"Gross!"

Will smiled and lowered his arm. He picked up the ball Emma had been using, tossing it a few times himself. Emma had a point. Everyone got the feeling they were forgetting something, or that something was missing sometimes. It was perfectly normal. But it wasn't normal for that feeling to persist for months at a time.

Red was the inverse: she felt like she was someone he should know, but didn't recognize. But this too made him edgy.

Red... It seemed like a strange name, and the way she had presented it had been strange as well, "they call me" rather than "my name is", and her piecemeal admission to "giving away" her old name. It was oddly specific, the wording seemed to skirt some other more important fact, and Will did not like this hole in his understanding.

Will glanced over to his bookshelf, stuffed with science fiction and fantasy novels, books detailing astrophysics for the layman or accounts of past scientific discoveries, and on the bottom shelf, several on mythology.

The last time he remembered reading them was two summers ago with... someone. He had been with someone, right? 

He went over to the shelf, and picked up one of the books. American Gods did not seem nearly as dusty as it should have. It was bristling with post-it notes of all colors, most of which were covered in Will's own careful print. Others had character doodles or intricately drawn diagrams, and a few were printed with someone else's handwriting.

He looked at these last ones carefully. The barely legible writing didn't look like anyone he knew, but it didn't seem totally unfamiliar either. Like Red, it tickled at the back corners of his brain. 

Will slipped the book into his backpack, trading it for a chemistry textbook. He could ask Red about the notes tomorrow, he thought as he started on the homework he should have begun hours ago. The way things were looking right now, there was either no reconciliation of Red's story and his reality, or they fit perfectly together to create one earth-shattering revelation. Will wasn't sure which one he would prefer right now.

GOD, he was tired.