#i see all my classmates and feel this deep mourning sense of man they can abt this so much why don't i

[chrisbangs]

😞 wish i was a better designer...

[northlight14]

A love for love

Description: Roman loved love. He always had, even as a small child. So why was it so different whenever he was involved?

TW: panic attack, mention of making out but nothing is actually shown, cursing, questioning, unrequited love, let me know if I should add anything else

Ships: unrequited royality, platonic roceit, dukeceit

Genre: high school au

Prompt: prompt 6, aromantic (prompt by @pridewrite2021)

Roman loved love. He always had. Even as a small child, he'd watch wide eyed as Prince Charming leaned down and gave sleeping beauty true loves kiss, something so powerful that it was able to break an evil witches curse. He'd stayed up till early hours in the morning, squealing with excitement as he read about two warriors able to take on an entire army, motivated by their want to keep the other safe and stealing glances at each other as their metal swords collided with the enemies weapon. He'd sing his heart out when a romance song came on the radio, gushing about their love interest with such emotion that Roman adored.

Yes, Roman loved love.

So why was it so different whenever he was involved?

The earliest memory Roman had of this was when he was in first grade. Two of his classmates ran up to him giggling as they sang "Savannah has a crush on you!" Instead of feeling that overwhelming joy like the ones described in his books and music, he felt a deep cutting disgust in his stomach. Roman felt less like he could conquer the world and more like the world was going to swallow him whole. Rather than singing any great love song that he'd sang so many times in his room or in the car, he began crying instead while the two girls looked at him in confusion.

"It was just because I don't like her." Roman told himself.

But this feeling of being out of place only grew as his fellow classmates gushed about their boyfriends and girlfriends, crushes and which cartoon character they find cute. Granted, they were in second and third grade, so the terms "boyfriend" and "girlfriend" roughly translated to "they let me borrow their crayon at break once and now we're in love and going to get married." However, this love for love spread like a virus and Romans desire to fit in only grew. So, during a sleepover with his friends, Roman looked upon the TV, at the princess Aurora and decided 'She'd make a good crush.' Before announcing it to the crowd of toddlers, the words immediately sounding wrong as he spoke them, as if he'd spoken them in a foreign language. He decided that night to never speak of his supposed "crush" ever again. Roman liked Aurora with Prince Philip much more, anyway.

Roman was in fifth grade when he was talking to one of his best friends, Valorie. The two of them just laughing and joking when his friends approached.

"Who's your girlfriend, Ro?" one laughed, putting his arm around Roman. And he knew it was a joke. He knew that. But it still felt like the arm hadn't wrapped around his shoulders and instead knocked all the air out his lungs in one hard punch. This moment lingered in his mind like a haunting apparition, quickly causing any friendships with girls to become strained. First only talking occasionally while in class or on the yard, to only talking when his guy friends weren't around, to only texting outside of school to nothing at all. Roman mourned these friendships but it had been made clear that boys and girls couldn't just be friends and the idea of people thinking he was dating any of these people made him feel like a caged bird.

Later that year Roman decided, despite his love for love, he didn't want to date. The reason for this being...

"I'm just more focused on my career."

"I just don't see the point in dating right now."

"I've never really liked anyone so what's the point?"

"I just like being more focused on myself."

And any other excuse he could possibly come up with, repeating them as many times as he needed to to believe them. Roman had always been a good actor, after all. But, of coarse, with this supposed decision came "reassurance" from adults, as if they had the ability to see the future.

"You just haven't met the right person, yet."

"You'll change your mind one day, when you get a bit older."

"All kids say that at your age."

"Roman isn't interested in dating YET."

These invalidating promises made Romans blood boil the more he heard them. It was as if he was yelling while trapped in a soundproof box, unable to escape. But, despite what seemingly everyone around him was saying, Roman knew deep down that romance just wasn't for him.

He also remained thankful that this love for love hadn't infected his friendship too much.

That was until seventh grade when what was originally a few cases of a love for love became an epidemic. It seemed that all anyone wanted to know was "do you have a crush on her?" "Did you hear that Lily and Reese are going out?" "Do you find her attractive?" This soon made its way over to his friends as they talked about how hot the girls were and teased each other relentlessly about who they liked. Roman once again felt like an outsider in his friend group. His friends conversations about their girlfriends may as well have been spoken in Latin.

Then the day came when his twin brother, Remus, came out as gay and started dating a guy named Janus. It then occurred to Roman.

"Maybe the reason I haven't been feeling anything for all these girls was because they were girls! Maybe I like boys instead!" Roman had never been a very logical person but this definitely seemed to make more sense. If he didn't like women then that surely must mean that he liked men instead, right? Because otherwise...otherwise Roman didn't know what that meant.

So Roman tried. Really God damn tried to find boys cute, to fantasize about dating them, to relate to gay experiences. But all he was met with was the same foreign and hollow feeling he'd felt when he lied about having a crush back in 2nd grade. Roman quickly began feeling his love for the concept of love diminish.

So when Roman entered grade 9, he decided to put anything to do with his romantic feelings (or lack there of) in a little box in the back of his mind to deal with later. Instead putting his passion and good acting skills to use by joining his schools drama department. The moment he stepped foot on stage, he felt himself come alive. The crowd, the praise, the creativity, it was addicting.

And it was only made better with the more friends he made. There was one person who he grew partially close to. Patton Heart. The two quickly became best friends, often hanging out outside of rehearsals and texting non stop. And, for the first time in what seemed like years, Roman was happy and comfortable.

That was until 10th grade. Roman way lying on his bed watching Netflix on his phone when a message from Patton came through. Roman clicked on the message and was caught massively off guard as he read it.

Patton: hey, Roman. So I've been thinking a lot lately. In particular about us and about you. And over the past few months I've started to realize that I have a really big crush on you. You're really handsome, funny and talented and I love spending time with you. It's totally ok if you don't like me back, but I figured it's better to be honest.

It should've been it. The moment when one of the main characters confesses their feelings for the love interest and they proclaim they feel the same way. Sparks fly and their hearts beat faster with excitement. It all becomes so clear when they hear that confession in movies and books.

But this wasn't a movie.

Roman felt time stand still as he read the message, his hands shaking so much he didn't think he would be able to respond even if he knew how to answer.

He couldn't breath. Why couldn't he breath?! The edges of his vision went fuzzy as he desperately gasped for air.

"Patton's great." He thought through his suffocating panic. "He's funny and charming and sweet. You should like him. Why don't you like him? What's wrong with you?!" Romans thoughts yelled as he tried desperately to hold back the tears threatening to spill over.

Not sure of what else to do, Roman ran to Remus' room, hoping he'd know how to respond.

Roman knocked on his brothers door and Remus responded with a very annoyed "come in" after a few beats of silence. Remus and Janus were sat on Remus' bed and Roman could tell from their slightly red lips that the two had been making out. But he wasn't in the headspace to even pretend to care that he'd interrupted them right now.

"Ugh, what do you want?" Remus said, clearly too irritated by his brothers presence to notice his distress.

"P-Patton just messaged me s-saying he likes me and I don't know what to say." Roman barely stuttered out, trying desperately not to cry in front of Remus and his boyfriend.

"Aw, cute. Roro finally got a man." Remus joked but Roman was definitely not in the mood for that kind of humor.

"Do you like him back?" Janus asked, calmly, clearly taking more notice of Romans distress.

"Well, I do. But not like that."

"Ok, so just tell him that. It doesn't have to be this whole thing. Why are you getting so upset?" Remus said, looking at Roman as if he was stupid.

Which, to be fair, Roman did feel very stupid right now.

"He's my best friend. I don't want to upset him." Yeah, that was the reason Roman was freaking out. He just didn't want to hurt Patton. That was it.

"Well, just say you don't want a relationship right now or some shit. Besides, he's probably more worried now because you've taken so long to answer." Remus pointed out. Yeah, Roman was never coming to Remus with his problems ever again.

"Yeah...ok." Roman said. Slowly, he walked out the room, noticing Janus looking at him curiously but deciding not to focus on it.

Roman: I'm really sorry Patton, but I don't feel the same way. We can still be friends tho. It doesn't have to be awkward between us. Especially because I really like being friends with you.

Patton: Yeah, that's ok. This is kinda what I was expecting to be honest. But yeah, I still wanna stay friends.

A few days later Janus came over again for dinner. Afterwards, Roman went into the living room and sat on the couch, scrolling through Instagram.

To his surprise, Janus followed after him and sat next to him. "So, how are you feeling after a few days ok. Broken his heart yet?" Janus teased.

Roman huffed out a laugh. "Uh, yeah, we agreed to just stay friends. Which I'm happy about but it's also really weird. I honestly don't know where we go from here which sucks because I really like Patton. Just not like...that." Janus nodded in understanding.

"You must care about him a lot if you had a panic attack just because you didn't want to hurt his feelings." Janus said. Roman just shrugged in response. "So, does that mean you like someone else?" Janus asked.

"No...I. I don't know. I've...I've never really liked anyone. I don't think I ever will. And people say I'll change my mind but...it isn't like I've made a choice. I've felt like this my whole life and everyone around me has had a crush on someone by now. I just... don't think I was built for romance. Which I know probably sounds stupid but that's just how I feel." He said, so honest it almost hurt.

Janus nodded slowly, taking in what Roman was saying. "It doesn't sound stupid." He said before pausing, as if considering his next choice of words. "Roman...have you ever heard of the term aromantic?" He asked.

"No." Roman answered, looking at Janus curiously.

"It basically means someone who experiences little to no romantic attraction. So they don't get crushes and stuff like that." He explained.

Roman felt his heart leap and for once it wasn't because of a fight or flight reflex. "Wait, that's a thing?" He asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, a surprising number of people identify with it. I don't want to assume anything but I thought I might mention it just from what you've told me and what Remus has said in the past. Plus that panic on your face yesterday reminded me a bit of when I tried to force myself into romantic situations with girls." Janus smirked to himself.

That night Roman researched more on aromanticism than he did for his science test. The more he searched, the more it just made sense. Of coarse, he still had a long way to go towards self acceptance. Roman could feel himself already starting to mourn the idea that this was a choice he'd made ages ago and he was going to feel romantic love one day. It was an odd feeling, realizing that even though he knew deep down it wasn't a decision and he'd always hated when people made those comments, a part of him took comfort in adults promising that he'd change his mind one day. He was also horrified to realize that he didn't know what his future was supposed to look like now without romance. After all, media seemed to show single middle aged adults exclusively as depressed and lonely. But as he scoured through wiki articles to tumblr pages to memes, he knew this was a good start to unlearning any nonsense society had been shoving down his throat.

The more Roman learned and the more people he talked to online about it, the more he started to feel his love for love increase. But instead of it being centered on a prince and princess in a movie, two in love warriors keeping each other alive in a book or a cheesy love song on the radio, it was a different type of love Roman was finally starting to feel the more he accepted himself.

Self love.

Reblog’s >>>> likes

[tsukiihime]

Til Death Do Us Part (Dabi X Fem!Reader)

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Spoilers for those not caught up in the manga, OOC Dabi, Dabi is obsessed with the reader in a very bad way, minor death and violence

I wrote this to try and get over my writing block - I wanted to try and give more description to the locations and to try and pace the story better. Thought I'd share it here!

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The monsters always come out at night.

You’ve always heard the saying but it never really hit you until now. You were walking home from work, the cool night air stinging your face as fluffy white snow falls around you, forming cloud like piles on the sidewalks. You’re walking in a side street that is always deserted at this time of night - the only sounds are your footsteps clicking against the ground as you hum to yourself.

The walk is usually uneventful, and you expect this night to be no different. You swing your lanyard holding your house key around your finger, your other hands pulling your cell phone out to check social media as you trudge home. On your lanyard, a keychain is attached - a red and white peace knot, old and tattered. It was from a dear friend you lost when you were young, and one of your most prized possessions. It catches your eye as you twirl your lanyard around, and your mind briefly thinks of the boy you lost so long ago - Touya Todoroki. He was your best friend, and you each exchanged peace knots as a gift to one another when you were children.

“Let these knots be a promise to each other - to be by each other’s side no matter what!” That was when you were five, neighbors and classmates to each other. You walked to and from school side by side, and eventually you two were inseparable. When you were eight, he promised to marry you, and to become a big strong Hero that would be a husband worthy of your love.

You frown solemnly, heart aching as you recall hearing the news from so long ago.

“Y/N, sweetie, your friend Touya...he passed away last night. It was an accident…”

Oh, how you had sobbed and sobbed for your friend. You attended his funeral, peace knot wrapped around your wrist as you remembered Touya’s smile, and mourned his death. The loss of your best friend, your first love.

You turn the corner, and are whipped out of your thoughts by the sounds of a commotion in the distance - you reverse and hide behind the wall to see what the situation is.

A group of men are having an argument with another male - you can’t see his face but you spot a lanky figure sporting a dark trench coat with jet black hair facing his back towards you. The four other men are standing defensively in front of him, fighting stances ready and one of them has activated his quirk - he summons a knife seemingly out of thin air and points it towards the black haired man.

“I don’t know who you are, but get lost.” He sneers, the metallic blade glinting under the stars.

“I just asked if you’ve seen a girl around here. Walks here every night, hums love songs to herself? Just answer and I’ll leave you be.” You tense up at those words - you walk here every night and more often than not, you hum softly to yourself as you walk home. Love songs are your favorite type of song and you often have them stuck in your head. Was it possible? Was this man looking for you? You don’t recognize his voice or his figure, so you decide the best course of action is to get out of here as soon as possible before anyone notices you. You slowly begin to move, careful to take quiet and small steps as you try and pass this alley before you get caught.

“We already told you, we don’t know what you’re fuckin’ talkin’ about,” The man with the knife repeats, disdain and anger evident in his voice, “so get lost.” He lunges forward, attempting to attack the questioning man in front of him. But before he can make contact, the man with the trenchcoat reaches his arm out and a gravelly voice rings out in the darkness:

“Then you’re useless to me.”

Blue flames sprout from his fingertips, and even from the distance you’re at, you can feel the unbearable heat on your skin. You watch in horror as the fire engulfs the men and everything around them, searing away any traces of flesh and bone. You can’t help the scream that escapes from your lips, alerting the now murderer of your location. He turns around, and you see icy blue eyes gazing at you. He smiles wide, and starts making his way to you.

“Found you.”

You turn on your heels, immediately breaking into a mad dash as you run for your life. You are so afraid that you don’t even have the energy to scream, and you can’t hear if you’re being followed over the sound of your footsteps and heartbeat. ‘Did I really just witness a murder, you think to yourself, “he’s going to kill me next! Those blue flames...that can only be one person!”

As you sprint in the alleyways, weaving in and out of side streets and back roads, you can’t get the image of those men out of your head. The putrid smell of singed flesh combines with the shrill howls of people being burned alive, and you stop at the side of the building to throw up the contents of your stomach as your senses are overwhelmed with the stench of death. The bile scorches your throat, with you sobbing uncontrollably as fear creeps up your spine. You gasp for air, throat dry and legs burning. You recognize where you are, and try to think of a way out and to the nearest police station or Hero agency. Footsteps sound off behind you, slow and methodical. You spin around, keys laced through your right fist as you prepare to fight for your life. Emerging from the inky darkness is the obsidian haired man from earlier, with his hands in his trenchcoat and eyes focused on you.

“Hey doll. Did you miss me?” You stare in terror at the figure in front of you - black spikes swaying in the wind as piercing azure eyes bore holes through your body. He walks into the light and you suck in a breath as you recognize this man: he’s the wanted criminal, Dabi. Your worst fear comes true as you realize you’re staring down a member of the League of Villains.

Tears stream down your cheeks as you angrily eye out the fugitive standing under a street lamp. “What do you want from me?!” You scream. He smirks in response, staples glinting in the moonlight as he stalks towards you, like a predator eyeing it’s prey. You grit your teeth, begging your body to stop shaking as you feel the heavy weight of death in the air.

“Don’t tell me you forgot me Doll. You’ll break my little ‘ole heart.” Your eyebrow twitches in annoyance, wind blowing against your face drying your stream of tears. You have no connection to this wanted villain - you’ve never met him before in your life. You’ve only ever seen him on the news, hearing the terrible crimes he has committed with his organization and you recall him being a part of the plot to kidnap that poor U.A student. You glare daggers at him despite your brain telling you to run, and against your better judgement, you heatedly answer him.

“I would’ve remembered a piece of shit like you.” Venom drips from every syllable, if you’re going to die being burnt to a crisp, then you decide you’ll go down fighting. He begins to laugh, slowly breaking out into a cough as he begins bleeding from his eye and his lips. Dabi continues to stride towards you, and you round the corner, knocking over construction tools and a bag of sand that had been placed in the alleyway. You run face first into a wall, and you stare in horror as you come to the realization that you have no way out. In your panic, you start to hyperventilate - the fear of death takes hold of you as you begin to pray silently to whatever God is out there to give you a way out.

You peer down and see the sand at your feet, and in a last ditch attempt to have some sort of escape plan, you grab a handful of sand and clench your fist tight as you hide it behind your back. Soon, Dabi approaches, a twisted smile on his face.

“Now, that wasn’t very nice Doll. Running away from me?” You chew your lip, scrambling to think of an escape route. You can see him clearly now, under the street lamps. Cerulean eyes pierce through the dark, staples clinking as he gets closer and closer. Sections of his skin have been charred a deep purple, and the staples link burned and unburned skin together like a patchwork quilt. Piercings on his nose and ears glint, and while his scrawny figure on it’s own wouldn’t be too scary, the fire power his quirk provides makes escaping him difficult, if not impossible. “Don’t you recognize me?” He says it with a teasing tone, making you want to vomit.

“Look, I don’t know what you want, or who you think I am, but I don’t know you. You have the wrong person.” Your legs shake, wobbly and uneasy as you will yourself not to cry or plead for your life. You won’t give him the satisfaction.

“Oh, I have the right person. Isn’t that right, Y/N?” You freeze, eyes widening as your name rolls off his tongue. Chills run up your spine as your heart races with trepidation, and the hand holding your keys is squeezed so tight that you think it might bleed. “Can’t believe you would forget your dearest friend so easily. Are you trying to forget me too?” He looks at you almost sadly, but his eyes trail down to your lanyard, and they lock onto your peace knot. He smiles, genuine and wide but to you he simply looks crazed. He rips the lanyard from your hand, and you flinch in surprise. He detaches the peace knot and holds it up in the moonlight.

“Give that back!” You scream, lunging to grab it back but he simply swats you out of the way. You fall on your side, and grunt in pain.

“I’m glad you kept yours all this time. I burned mine up in the accident.” You stand, eyebrows knitted in confusion, still holding the sand in your fist as confusion paints your features.

“What are you…” He looks at you straight on, and says nothing, opting to instead let you figure out the meaning of his words. You stare into his eyes and are met with sapphire orbs staring back, the deep blue seemingly familiar to you. You only know one boy with blue eyes as deep as those. And his fascination with your peace knot in addition to his confession that he had a similar knot brings you to one conclusion.

“It can’t be,” you mind screams, every fiber of your being saying that you’re wrong, that it can’t be him. “He’s dead, Y/N, you know this...You went to his funeral, Touya is dead…” But something in you clicks. You see the red haired boy you grew up with overlapping with the scarred villain in front of you, and before you can stop yourself, you say his name.

“Touya?”

“That’s me Doll. I’m so glad to have found you.” He grins wide, a crazed look in his eyes as he comes closer. He has imagined meeting you again after all this time. He’s always remembered his promise after all. You promised him you’d always stay by his side. He’s loved you, always loved you. And you’ve loved him too. That’s why he’s taking you with him, to be with him always. He’s envisioned how you’d throw your arms around him in elation, crying that you’re happy to see him again, that you’ll be with him no matter what.

But instead, you stare in horror.

He sees the fear in your eyes mixed with disgust. You see a murderer, not your childhood friend. You picture the last moments of those men he killed not even ten minutes ago, the shrieks of death and the smell of burnt skin returning to your memory.

This man in front of you, this criminal…

He is not Touya.

“You...you’re not Touya. Touya would never kill innocent people. Stay the hell away from me!” You yell, releasing the sand you’ve been holding in your hand straight into Dabi’s eyes, and he grunts in pain as he struggles to keep his eyes open. You take the opportunity to knee him in the stomach, and he falls in pain. You take one last look at Touya - no, at Dabi - and sprint out of the alley.

Dabi recovers from your attack after a minute or so, and he is displeased at your reaction, to say the least. He stands up, retrieving your peace knot from the ground and stuffing it into his pocket. The villain walks out of the alleyway, and makes his way back to the League of Villains hideout.

“Run all you like Doll. I like a good chase.”

[rosethornewrites]

Fics I read this week

Some of these may have been read earlier than a week ago, but I tried to keep it contained. Not sure I’ll keep this up, but I’ll try.

Finished:

Rated E:

the origin of change, by kissteethstainred, rated E

Lan Xichen said, “Time for regrowth and mourning is, of course, the most important. But there has also been a—frequent—discussion of marriage.” He paused to drink more tea. He almost seemed apologetic when he added, “Your name has been brought up often.”

“For marriage,” Lan Wangji repeated.

Except with Wei Ying in the picture, nothing goes exactly as planned.

Opportunity, by brooklinegirl, rated E

Lan Zhan is jostled slightly and he turns in his seat to see a harried-looking man squeezing in next to him. There isn't an empty seat there, and the bar is quite crowded. "Sorry," the man says, sounding out of breath. "I know I'm all up in your business, I'll move, I promise, I just—" He blows his breath out. "I'm going to lose this seat next to you, that dude over there has been eyeing it, and it's mine as soon as this guy leaves.”

Rated M:

Oxymoron, by feline_somnambulist, rated M

Jiang Yanli was in the kitchen. She hummed softly along to music being played somewhere else in the house, as she shuffled carefully back and forth from the prep table to the giant vat of soup. The house smelled like pork rib and savory broth. As always, she was beautiful in her element, a goddess of her domain despite the limp and the leg brace.

Her phone rang just as Jiang Cheng entered the kitchen. She saw him and smiled as she made her careful way to the phone on the wall-mounted charging station.

Jiang Cheng put the stack of paperwork down on a counter. He got to the phone first, picked it up. It was Lan Wangji’s number. He rejected the call and put the phone in his pocket.

“A-Cheng? Is everything okay?” Jiang Yanli asked, a frown creasing her brow. “Who was that?”

It Ends With the Beginning, by feline_somnambulist, rated M

They fight. They part. Jiang Cheng is hurt. Wei Wuxian comes to help. Wei Wuxian runs. Jiang Cheng is tired of chasing. They fight.

Until The End, by abCEE, rated M

"When I -- when I tied my ribbon around our wrists, I knew what I was doing and I privately honored it." Wei Wuxian's brows continued to meet as he tried to understand where the conversation was going until realization dawned on him. "Wa -- wait! Lan Zhan, is it what I think it is?!!" "It is usually done at the end of a wedding ceremony --" "What-" "But it could have been acknowledged as an engagement." "Lan Zhan!" He cannot believe what he is hearing now. "But my ancestor revealed herself --" "And we bowed… three times. We bowed, Lan Zhan!"

In which wangxian are married since the Cold Pond Cave incident, knows how proper communication works, and had confessed in the middle of the Sunshot Campaign. Things went spiraling up and down from there.

Rated T:

as it should be, by Sienne, rated T

Post-canon Lan Qiren time travels to before the Cloud Recesses lectures. The Cloud Recesses are quiet and peaceful, something his home hasn't been in years. ...In fact, it is too quiet and peaceful.

Judgment Day, by Grace_Logan, rated T

Cornered Wei Wuxian sees only one way out after cluing in on the Jin's plan.

Welcome To Gusu, by perkynurples, rated T

Deep in the lush forests of Gusu hides an aging resort that hosts dozens of children every summer for an unforgettable couple of weeks. It’s where Lan Wangji grew up alongside Wei Wuxian, and when his childhood friend (for the lack of a better term) surprisingly returns years later in the position of Senior Counsellor, seemingly hell bent on causing the same kind of mischief that got him kicked out of Gusu in the first place, but also taller, broader and tanner than ever before, Lan Wangji knows he’s In Trouble. Or, this fic has it all: longing looks over campfires, found family dynamics, ill-timed skinny dipping, teenagers inappropriately shipping their counsellors, camp weddings...

Therapy is a Performative Act, by cinder1013, rated T

“What does your dad think of your comedy?”

“Oh, he hates it, but it pays the bills and I need it to pay for my goddamn fuckin’ therapy.”

Jiang Cheng stumbles into being a stand-up comic and his favorite topic is dear ol’ dad.

sorry, i love you, by moon_thief, rated T

lan wangji was practically seething as he watched it happen. what kind of person could be so careless, unruly, undisciplined-

and then their eyes met.

oh. oh.

Tremble a Prayer, by cqlorphan, rated T

They kiss, and Lan Wangji regulates himself. There are no tears pricking at his eyes. There is no lump in his throat. His hands are undressing Wei Ying, and then Wei Ying’s hands are on his hands.

“What is it?” Wei Ying says, between kisses.

Even with Wei Ying back, Lan Wangji's sadness overwhelms him at times. He tries, and fails, to keep it from him.

The Quiet Work, by ShipsAreLaunching, rated T

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian get a summons for help from a minor clan in Gusu. When they go to investigate they find a horrible truth, and do what they do best.

Rated G:

Ink Stains Not So Ignored, by Preludian_Staves, rated G

Qiren found something that he still couldn't bring himself to ignore about his youngest nephew's husband.

I’d buy a big house where we both could live, by failed2be_chill, rated G

“Ah, so you want to play with the rabbits and enjoy their soft fur and silly little nose twitches while your poor husband toils in the heat of the day with hammer and nail doing exhausting manual labour. I see how it is. It’s a good job I love you, huh?” Wei Wuxian kisses his husband’s soft cheek.

“Mn, very good.”

---

Or, married WangXian embrace the practical and symbolic joys of home ownership. Domestic bliss.

Family, by Speechless_since_1998, rated G

Jiang Cheng blinked as his brother while he played with the baby he was holding.

He hoped he had misunderstood, but he had proof that it was true right in front of him.

So he did the only sensible thing that came to mind, "Wei Ying, what the fuck ?! '

"A-Cheng, language!" Shijie scolded him with a stern look.

"A-Jie, you can't really accept such a thing!"

"Why not? He is so cute!" she said, making funny faces at the child, totally in love with him.

Was it possible that he was the only one with a bit of mental sanity left?

A Lonely Guqin (No More), by Asphodel_Meadow, rated G

Wei Wuxian is the first person who makes Lan Wangji want to have a duet.

piercing, by escapingaugust, rated G (read the tags)

Stolen Midnights, by hinotoriii, rated G

There are nights where sleep eludes Wei Wuxian. Where the demons of his past are too loud in his mind, reminding him of that which he could never forget, second life or not.

Unfinished:

Not Rated:

Disclosed Regrets, by zLanWuxian, Not Rated

The majority of the cultivation world are pulled into a room that suspiciously resembled the burial mounds. (Their golden cores were sealed too. As to why, nobody knew.)

They are invited to watch Wei Wuxian's life.

What will they do when they find out everything they believed was a lie?

(Or: The characters of Mo Dao Zu Shi watch Mo Dao Zu Shi)

Rated E:

Where You Fell, by Sweet_William, rated E

Years ago, Lan Wangji was a Senior in high school, readying himself for graduation and the coming years studying at the Gusu Lan Institute of Music. Everything in his life made sense, from his role in his family, to a future as a classical musician. The only thing that didn’t fit was the sudden epiphanies he had about himself brought on by his bothersome and flirtatious classmate, Wei Wuxian. When the growing attraction and friendship was cut short by the other boy’s disappearance, he mourned what could have been, but ultimately had to move on. What he didn’t know was that fate would bring them back together again one day, or the reality of how far apart two lives can diverge, how some can find peace and prosperity, while others can fall farther than he ever imagined.

A Narrow Bridge, by FrameofMind and Jo Lasalle (Jo_Lasalle), rated E

Once, Lan Wangji made a choice to step aside. Ten years after Wei Ying’s death, he finds a way back to choose again.

Setting fire to our insides, by StarsAlignNomore, rated E

Lan Wangji dies after the thirty-third strike. Lan Xichen does not handle it well.

*fleabag voice* This is a fix it.

Rated M:

Live Again, Love Anew, by kkanime5555, rated M

“Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian finally speaks up.

“Mn.” Lan Zhan hums to show he’s listening.

“I think we traveled back in time.”

...

“I’ll go, Lan Zhan. I’ll come to Gusu with you.”

-----

Or,

Lan Zhan and Wei Ying are soulmates and, upon Wei Ying's death, they are sent back to when they first met as kids on the streets of Yiling. From there, they both are taken to Gusu, where they are raised together, gradually learning of their shared feelings and finding out the mystery of who sent them back in time and why, all while planning how to save the world, preferably with all their loved ones left alive.

A Torn Red Ribbon, by shiroakuma, rated M

The night before they marched into the Nightless City, Lan Wangji was invited to join Wei Wuxian in his tent.

Unbeknownst to him at that time, it became their last real conversation.

In which, a resounding victory against the QishanWen Sect is won seemingly at the cost of Wei Wuxian's life. Lan Wangji still spends some time being heavily injured. Lan Xichen tries to pick the pieces left behind by the war. The Jiang Sect is renowned thanks to the revered Wei Wuxian and the cultivation world is plagued by unknown forces while Lan Wangji meets with Wei Wuxian in his dreams.

Sacrifices Made with Blood, by NocturnalFriend, rated M

Lan Wangji knew it was too late, there was too much blood on Wei Ying's hands already. Still, if he asked his brother for help, surely. There was a way to rescue the man who held his heart?

Or: Trust is not easily given and all to easily shattered. Lan Wangji learns this in the worst way, when Lan Xichen gives into the demands of the cultivation world. Although nobody could have predicted the whims of fate, giving them another chance at righting things.

What makes you sing?, by Fictio, rated M

Madam Yu was never known for her matchmaking skills but she was known for her inherent meddling. Though it still came as a surprise, when on one fine Saturday afternoon, she called Wei Ying and set him up for a blind date.

There She Rose, by Aiiiru, rated M

Many years had passed yet whispers and gossips about YiLing Matriarch still stayed alive like unruly weeds refusing to die.

"That damn Wei Wuxian must have cursed this year's harvest with 'unkillable' locusts" "But Wei Wuxian had died right?" "Didn't you know that her body wasn't found?" "I heard some cultivators saying that during the chaos, some people saw her leaving in a sword, flying away with someone else." "That must be the demon with whom she signed a contract, a female challenging three thousand or was it five thousand cultivators by herself? Hah!! She definitely has ties with evil creatures and ghosts." "I heard from my cousin in Yunmeng that YiLing Matriarch was born shameless." "Some say she was a male but took female form to seduce the ghosts of burial mounds and gain power by starting demonic cultivation" "Shhh! Don't talk so loudly! My cousin knew a man who loudly gossiped about Yilling Matriarch only to be cursed to death the next day"

Visitations, by Vir_Abelasan, rated M

"Wei Ying-" Lan Zhan says, stutters, "I'm sorry."

And now Wei Wuxian sees it, the red rimming Lan Zhan's eyes, the rumpled edges of his blazer. There is an old, familiar urge for him to reach over, to hold Lan Zhan's hand and smooth his hair, to tell him that everything will be fine.

"We're all a bit sorry about this, I think," he says instead, and finds that he means it. For Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji and everyone else in that Guanyin temple, the pain must be unbearably fresh, like skin just flayed open. But Wei Wuxian's chest had been cracked open a long time ago, his wounds licked and cauterized and sewn shut over five long years - Ever hurting, but a dull, constant ache, "It's really alright, Lan Zhan."

Five years after being accused of corporate espionage and losing everything, the Guanyin Scandal breaks open and Wei Wuxian finds a familiar face at his door.

Kiss My Wounds, Bless My Scars, by Pegunicent, rated M

When he is sixteen, Lan Wangji makes a choice. He becomes Wei Ying's bride.

Rated T:

the one where Jiang Yanli visits (and she's a fucking goddess), by ShippersList, rated T (part 4 of a series)

Wei Wuxian’s sister was a fucking goddess so it was a travesty she wasn’t being fucked like a goddess deserved.

Luo Qingyang decided to do something about it.

(Also, family feels and some plotting but that's beside the point.)

obscured in the shade of the willow, bathed in the light of the moon, by cloud_wanderer, rated T

Wei Wuxian leaves the Burial Mounds for the first time to attend his martial brother's wedding, and everything changes from there. (a.k.a. a universe in which Nie Huaisang schemes to thwart Jin Guangshan's plans and ends up saving Wei Wuxian and the Wens in the process)

Wei Wuxian meets Xiao Xingchen and helps found a sect in Yiling.

Inchoate, by Marinelifeclub, rated T

“Where would you even go once you left? Wait a few more years before leaving." persuaded Jiang Fengmian,

“Will I live to see that long?” Wei Wuxian whispered under his breath.

Jiang Fengmian felt cold at those words. He always thought his children would be the ones to heal the scars left by their mother on Wei Wuxian, but just the concise way he spoke about them, he knows that wasn’t true. Now his best friend’s son sat in front of him, confessing to not thinking he will live to see himself become a man. Cangse and Changze must be furious in their graves as the sweet smiling son they raised endured pain because of a jealous woman and a cowardly man. Sighing, he did the only thing he could to make things right and accepted the boy’s wishes.

At age 14, Wei Wuxian left Lotus Pier and never looked back.

Wei Wuxian leaves Lotus Pier and while things change something’s are just set in fate.

Here We Go Again, by Alliandra, rated T

He looked over to where the swordswoman was still fighting, but her focus seemed entirely locked onto that fight so it was unlikely that she could have had anything to do with the energy drain. He was still wracking his brain for something else to do to assist, so this thing didn’t kill them both, but now he was feeling weak, dizzy and currently not far from helpless.

~~~~~~~~~~

It has been several months since the events at the Guanyin temple and Wei Wuxian is wandering around on his own. After he helps a stranger kill a very dangerous beast he uncovers what seems to be a conspiracy aimed at ending his life. He heads back to Cloud Recesses with his new companion in tow, looking to get Lan Wanji's help in working out what is involved.

Meanwhile, Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling made a surprising discovery under Koi Tower that may well be linked to the threat against Wei Wuxian's life.

Can they all work together to find out what is going on and put a stop to it, before something disastrous occurs?

Nie Huaisang's Ten Steps to Fix The Fucked Up Reality, by cosmic_zephyr (ProudHaikyuuTrash)

1. Find the time travel array in the Nie library 2. Convince (manipulate) Wei Wuxian to use demonic cultivation to activate the array. 3. Transmigrate to the body of your 15-year-old selves with Wei Wuxian and Survive his wrath. 4. Come up with yet another exaggerated, slightly concerning, plan to save Lotus Pier, Dafan Wens and your brother. 5. Use Empathy to make the Wen siblings side with you in the mess that is soon to come. 6. Kill the main Wen family and make Wen Qing the new leader of Qishan Wen so innocent people are not killed. 7. Annoy the hell out of Lanling Jin just for funsies and also a political statement because Jin Guangshan can suck it. 8 Preferably, just for your own sanity, find a way to kill Jin Guangshan and Jin Guangyao. 9. Work with Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing to solve the sabre problem of the Nie clan. 10. Live a happy life with your brother alive and the cultivation world not being the huge fucked up mess in your own time-line. P.S. Matchmake the pining pile of disaster and gay aka Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji.

Aka canon divergence where Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian (and Lan Wangji) travel back in time and save the cultivation world.

Deal, by Rahar_Moonfire, rated T

Nie Huaisang wants revenge for his brother. He also wants his friend Wei Wuxian back. Lan Wangji left the Cultivation World after Wei Wuxian's death and hasn't been heard from since. It's a good thing Nie Huaisang has spies everywhere. He has everything he needs to put his plan into motion: the notes, the instructions, the "willing body," and the patience to pull it all off.

Now he just needs to be sure Wei Wuxian survives long enough to pick up Nie Huaisang's bread crumbs, solve the puzzle, and shatter the Cultivation World again. The only person suitable for that job is Black Jade of Yiling, the husband of the infamous Yiling Patriarch, Lan Wangji.

Rated G:

Hadn't gone as I planned, by hamlets_ghost, rated G (part of a series)

Lan Xichen leaves the Cloud Recesses with Wei Wuxian and Wangji to meet his mother.

He cannot stay.

[continuation of 'Hold on to your heart']

[valaks]

Hey Valaks! I love your blog and your writing!

Please could you do 1, 10 and 18 for the writing asks?? 🌺

Thank you for the ask! I have added a cut to hopefully not be that person clogging up the feed XD

1. Tell us about your current project(s) – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

I have a few collabs outstanding like Gemini and a Kabir/Alex sequel to Reunion (It’s rated T at the most so still kid friendly) with Lupin and Devil Went Down to Georgia with Galimau. My utter love for both of my collab partners for pulling me through at a time when I’ve been really struggling. I have a WIPs List but I’ll confess to not having touched most of them in quite sometime (partly from life, partly because I’m not sure how interesting they’d be to anyone else other than me which influences my writing more than I would like to admit):

Good Intentions: Smithers never thought he’d be anyone’s moral compass, he was no angel to sit in anyone’s shoulder but trying to keep Alex Rider from following in the ruthless footsteps of his father or worse his former handler, Alan Blunt is as close to hell as he can imagine. (Wherein Alex becomes head of MI6 we watch his morality slip away form the eyes of an increasingly frustrated and heartbroken Smithers - it all culminates when Alex uses a child “just as an informant, simple information gathering” but hidden behind the charming smile of John Rider and the brutal coldness of Alan Blunt’s words is Alex Rider dying as he says them (Smithers just hopes there’s still a part of the boy he once knew in there to mourn)

Walk the Line: Alex thought he was done with SCORPIA. But they kept creeping back into his life in the most unexpected of ways. He thought he could at least count on it being on the other side until he gets teamed up with Walker, his former classmate and current CIA spy. Unfortunately he still hasn’t been able to figure out whose side Walker is really on - attempted deep cover op like his dad, repatriated rogue spy back on the “good” side, or SCORPIA double agent? He doesn’t know but at least he’s nice....in that obnoxious American way.

Temperamental: (Sequel to Sentimental which isn’t all that popular and you would need to read it for the sequel but basically amnesiac Yassen whose memories stop pre John’s betrayal set during the Stormbreaker mission and features him trying to come to grips with the use of chemical weapons against children and how to handle Alex once he snaps back to reality which is where this starts) Yassen had promised Alex Rider that he would be safe from the world of spying but fate had other ideas. In the days after Sarov’s failed plan, Yassen scrambles to find where MI6 have hidden his wayward charge without drawing Rothman’s attention. A request from one of their existing clients to look into suspicious activity at his son’s former school prompts Yassen to investigate under the guise of offering security. He should have known where there was trouble there would be Alex.

10. How would you describe your writing process?

Lordy do I ever not have a good answer for this. Typically it involves an idea hitting me and then the determination: would this idea work better as a short to post on tumblr (because the set up would take away the tension or would require a multi chapter which is not really my strength), as a prompt to lob out into the ether for someone better and brighter to touch on, or a fic. Once fic is decided I determine whose perspective the fic would be the most interesting from either because it would create the most tension or their internal monologue/background knowledge would add the most to it. Then the summary is written and a title is chosen. If it’s something I’m really passionate about and I already have it in my head I tend to write it all in one go, if there’s more I need to chew on then it’s a series of dates with the Evil Writing App. The final determination is whether it’s good enough for Valaks or if it gets sent to an alt account.

18. Do any of your stories have alternative versions? (plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterisations?) Tell us about them.

Allegedly. I’ll try to go in order of posting -

Ruthless has a sequel where Alex just goes *quiet* once the initial dust as settled it’s unnerving to everyone because they’re not used to having to wonder just what Alex is thinking, at least not behind closed doors but what happened isn’t exactly something that can be recovered from easily, not when Alex isn’t sure who all’s in on it no matter what they’ve told him. Failure is the AU where I considered what would happen to Alex to make him want to torture.

Alibi was originally going to have Yassen show up in the end but I found it far more fascinating if MI6 was just testing Alex so out went Yassen and in went Ben. The sequel to it was torn apart and turned into Warm Reception because I wanted to trope flip SCORPIA comes to Brooklands and decided that it was more logical to have a small fight in Mrs. Bedfordshire’s lobby than anywhere else and I wanted to explore some side characters instead of Ben.

Providence’s sequel thoughts ended up inspiring Gentleman’s Agreement but I did write a small short for it “Yassen and Alex encounter each other on mission. Surprisingly they are working to mostly the same goal - Yassen needs to kill the millionaire who Alex needs to get information from. “I suppose I could answer some questions for you, Sasha. /In Russian/“ “Is now really the time for a language lesson?” he ground out in frustration but the man pointedly ignored him “/Fine but I don’t know some of the words/“ “/Then there is no better way to learn/“

I mentioned the Sentimental sequel but changing Sarov to come first and probable for almost a month before Yassen figures out he’s missing made the most sense. It was also a bit of fun at the Yassen would absolutely take Alex away from MI6....just to throw him in a school and throw away the key. Almost had him send him to Point Blanc but decided that wouldn’t quite fit all that well and wouldn’t be as interesting as if Alex had already gotten his feet back under him with MI6 and now sees that Yassen was right that MI6 would just use him until he’s dead but that doesn’t mean Alex wants to be anywhere near Yassen. Julia Rothman might have other ideas when she finds out what her newest second in command is hiding.

Gentleman’s Agreement.....there’s a lot of thoughts on Sequels and AUs, a lot of them have been written by better people, but that fic was written in 45 minutes so there wasn’t much time to recharacterize or change scenes. It did get Turncoat aka the Alex saves Yassen fic I wanted so badly.

Blood Brothers is a fic I really worked hard on considering how John would feel about his son being thrown into SCORPIA assuming Alex was of age. A rocky marriage was characterization that didn’t quite fit what I imagined would have happened but did fit the story so it stayed in. It was a fic that was supposed to get expanded on - the competition between Hunter and Yassen and Nile and Alex who is desperate to beat his Dad and his “apprentice”. I think two teenagers thrown against each other with a bit of a bone to pick, especially Yassen and Alex who can both hold a grudge even if one runs hot and the other runs cold, would have been compelling and a little fun but the premise and specifically John’s characterization doesn’t quite work out to me.

Found and Legends both have their plotting done but it’ll never see the light of day

Little Moments and Sweetest Thing were my guilty pleasure writing pieces for a while and I have about 1000 DMs of scenes for both of them that are lost to the sands of time and an embarrassing amount of self indulgence

Mates has a follow up ending for those who needed resolution in the comments of it. I’m not sure I did a good job of showing that Tom was in a semi abusive relationship since a lot of people seemed to blame him for him and Alex’s breakup. Most of my headcanons for how their relationship goes have them splitting much sooner just because of Tom’s own home life and either being unable to relate/talk to Alex and drifting away because his Mom throwing a plate at his head isn’t being hung over crocodiles but that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt or because Alex is just too dangerous/jumpy to be thrown back into a school environment and lashes out even unintentionally especially not under the pressure of being seen as a failure. School is also a barometer of just how much he’s lost of himself and his childhood, bonus points for Alex being completely upfront with Tom about everything he’s done

In My Sights has an AU where this is all post Christmas at Gunpoint and Yassen is there because he knows Ian is already at Sayle’s factory and will have to be...handled. So two weeks of just getting Alex trained for the protection he might need, connecting him to resources, etc. Ian finding out that Yassen had been there was part of a draft at one point which was included Alex wondering about an all too sincere goodbye from Ian “who never hugged him” but I can’t find the snippet anymore ;__;

A Warm Reception was an alternate version. Originally I wanted it to be Alex watching his last chance at normality slip from his fingers and then the crushing realization that it was something that was his own doing, not even MI6 but Skoda who he had picked a fight with and the accompanying breakdown but then decided that Mrs. Bedfordshire was the right way to go upon writing the summary. Because everyone loves some Outsider POV

Adopted was supposed to be a one chapter throw away trope flip of K Unit adopts Alex. I kept it pretty consistent with Amitai and Lil Lupin’s K Units, tried to add in some more characterization just in how they treated some of the details. It has an alt ending/chapter where they find out Alex is Cub when they pull him from Three’s tender mercies almost by accident. I was persuaded into light humored fluff via guilt trip.

The Truth and Other Deadly Weapons has Ben acting exactly like he think he would in front of everyone but my AU was that this interaction happened in the field and absolutely shattered Ben’s trust in him partly because he had worked for the other side and partly because even if it ‘wasn’t as bad as it looks’ it showed a severe lack of judgment. It also featured several chapters of Alex running into the glass ceiling that is having “Member Malogosto Class of 2004” on your resume. Was going to feature Alex running into Walker as well and into problems within MI6 and the CIA but that was eventually cut and it was kept to one chapter.

Guardian....Guardian holds a very special place in my heart. I was given the prompt of a Monster Fic and I wrote what I knew but the interesting parts were all the ones that come after the story but might come across to a general audience as Hogwarts School of Prayers and Miracles. The plotting done post this was going to feature baby Angel Alex reuniting with his parents but...they were strangers to him and so he stayed with Yassen more and more, followed him, learned from him....it encompassed everything from the dynamics of broken families to reflections on theology and references from the Good Book....which is why it’ll never see the fandom but has a very special place in my heart.

In another, more perfect world Glocking Around the Christmas Tree is the Die hard fic this fandom deserves but as Lupin and I untangled the plot of the movie more and more we just couldn’t make it into anything that would be coherent on paper so it was changed and changed and is now a half finished sad abomination that sits on my works list only because Lupin would kill me if I took it down.

Hot Shot was supposed to feature my current favorite character that is not Nile Abara, John Crawley but I wimped out and changed it at the end because I swore I would write the Crawley fic that we all need. Hear me out: John Crawley knew and worked with John and Ian Rider, was respected by both of them, was recruited by SCORPIA within one year in the field, is the Chief of Staff of MI6, the man who “no one gets a knife in the back without him signing off” and is also the man who walks his dog to check on Alex. There’s a mentorship waiting to happen there, preferably in a nice work study program during college where Alex finally gets to see the repercussions of his missions and Crawley helps try and pull him back from the black mark that SCORPIA would have put on him.

My personal fluffy favorite is the spinoff of Devil Went Down to Georgia where Joe Byrne did pull Alex out post Skeleton Key and brought him home. There’s a pretty extended one about where Tom ends up after Mates. There’s also an actual sequel but ask me no questions and all.

Skipping a few collabs and Febuwhump fics but Burning Questions was just supposed to be Branded - a fic where upon being captured by Razim he is brought in and forcibly branded to differentiate the appearances of Alex and Julius (since Razim has decided to have him killed after shooting the Secretary of State). As a result of the pain levels spiking when Alex actually sees that the SCORPIA logo is branded onto his cheek Razim considers that emotional pain might be something to investigate. There’s a couple thousand words on it, one day I might polish it up.

First Impressions is supposed to be a mirror verse of Alex working for MI6 which includes Three as Blunt, Rothman as Jones and of course Sagitta as K Unit while he’s up against his father as Yassen and Yassen as Crawley. But it was cut down significantly even if the ideas are pretty fun to consider.

Sorry this was probably more than you bargained for but it was fun to get everything out there so thank you for asking

[totally-incorrect-theatre-quotes]

After the Rain (Fanfic)

Charles

Short story where Lydia struggles to come out to her father as she has never come out to anybody before and has been dealing with constant bullying at her school (pre-musical events). Frightened, alone, and missing her mother Lydia tries to hide it but Charles knows something is on his daughter’s mind that she isn’t telling him

TW: Use of D slur, mentions of homophobia, use of q word

(angsty but i PROMISE it has a happy sweet ending)

He knew there was something on her mind. Ever since her mother had died she had been very reserved, standoff-ish, and wanting to isolate herself. Though it hurt him deeply, he had come to expect it..he was even used to it. The silent dinners they had together with her pushing her food around disinterestedly, hardly eating more than a few bites before vanishing off to her locked room once again. He got used to her walking in the door from school and dodging his questions about her day before wanting to be alone again. She needed space, he figured, she’s just trying to cope. Her coping mechanisms confused him often, from the start they were so violent and aggressive. The night before Emily’s funeral she cut her hair and dyed it black, their first Christmas without her she ran into her room and threw a picture frame at her door, he would often hear her crying at night..trying to muffle it in a pillow so he couldn’t hear and it broke his heart that he didn’t know how to help her. Emily would know exactly what to say to her. She was always better with the emotional stuff, her and Lydia seemed to be on the same wavelength all the time. He was missing all the signals and while he regretted it he just let Lydia do what she was going to do, hoping that she would get it out of her system and be better. She didn’t get better, she would have days where things would seem normal but something would set her off and she would go five steps backward when she had only come two steps forward. 

This was different though, different than Lydia feeling the weight of the grief. He knew the minute that she walked in the door that something troubling her. He glanced her over cautiously looking for any signs that she was being more than bullied. Looking for bruises or ripped clothes or tears in her eyes. When he saw no sign that she was physically in distress he relaxed a little. She looked over at him and instantly her eyes darted away as if she was ashamed of something. She went right to the stairs, her grip on the banister nearly slipping when he called her name. Lydia stopped in her tracks, still not making eye contact. Charles was now deeply worried, something was wrong. She was hiding something, he didn’t know what even though she didn’t talk to him much since the death she never kept secrets from him, not big ones anyway. She only kept secrets when she was afraid, she kept it a secret when she was being bullied by that boy, she kept it a secret when she stopped going to her therapist at school. 

“Anything happen today at school?” he asked her gently, trying not to alarm her. Trying to keep the tone neutral so she didn’t think he was interrogating her. She shook her head, dismissed his question by simply stating it was another day like usual. She started away from him again but this time he went over to the staircase himself, but a hand on her shoulder and turned her gently around to face him. Her eyes trained on the ground as her brain replayed the events of her school day in her mind. She really wanted to tell him, she wanted to tell somebody what she knew but she was so afraid of the worst that could happen. She had been having a terrible year the way it was, the last thing that she needed was for another thing to go wrong.

Lydia’s mind was at war. One half of her was completely overtaken by the crippling fear, and doubt, and shame wanting to reach out and be honest but terrified of the rejection that may come along with it. The other half tried to rationalize that this was her father, the man who raised her from infancy and while he was making mistakes in relation to her grief and mourning she still knew he loved her. She was his daughter, he always said that all he ever wanted in life for her was to be happy, and that he’ll love her no matter what. He’d never said anything to give Lydia the indication that he wouldn’t be accepting but there was still the fear, the small voice in the back of her head constantly reminding her that she has Schrödinger’s unconditional love from her father and that one piece of information could change the way her father saw her forever. She’d already lost her mother, she didn’t want to risk losing her dad too. Her thoughts started to become overpowered with the taunts of some of her classmates, the image of the note tapped on her locker, the posts online calling her horrible names for something that she never told anybody, and something that she couldn’t control. 

She never asked to be gay. She didn’t even realize that’s what she was for a long time. She thought back to the countless online quizzes where she tried to lie to herself, lulling herself into the false sense of security that came with hiding one’s identity. She remembered trying to ignore it, much of her realization started when her mom got sick and she was so preoccupied with dealing with that situation that it was easy to put her sexuality on the backburner but every time a pretty girl smiled at her she would get these butterflies. She hated it. She tried to convince herself that all girls felt this way, it was just her wanting to be like them not wanting to date them. She remembered wanting to talk to her mom about it but every time she got close to bringing it up something else terrible happened, and now she’s gone. The one person in the world Lydia felt she could trust with anything was dead and gone. 

She was standing in the bathroom maybe a month or two before today, it was nearly three in the morning and she felt a rush of emotions when she looked her reflection dead in the eyes and for the first time in her life she came out. She came out to her reflection, “I’m gay.”

The words feeling both foreign and familiar coming from her mouth, a mixture of relief and anxiety rushing all through her body. She felt so free in finally admitting who she really was but almost as instantly as the euphoria hit the dread arrived reminding her that she would now have to decide what she was going to do for the rest of her life. She lamented about how it had been so difficult to just come out to herself that telling other people would be impossible. Now she was standing in front of her distressed father, silent, as she grappled with the possibility of telling another person that secret she had been hiding for months..years from herself and the world. She wanted to run up the stairs, slam her door, and not have to deal with this right now but she wondered if she would be giving up her chance to confide in someone. Maybe he could help her, help her deal with the teasing, teach her how to be brave and stoic like he was no matter what was thrown at him. 

She let out a shaky breath still unsure of what she was going to do but knowing that she wouldn’t get away from her dad without telling him something. The way that he looked at her when he was worried made her so angry. She responded to her father with more resentment than she had wanted, “It’s kids at school, what else is new?”

He sagged his shoulders, “What did they say today? Lydia, I can call the school again and see if I can get you moved to another class or like I said a few months ago you can finish out the year online and-”

“That’s not going to fix anything dad!” she rolled her eyes to mask the sadness in her voice, the vulnerability,  “They’ll find another way to do it, not sure if you noticed but the internet is a thing now. It doesn’t just stop when I come home or I leave the class, it doesn’t stop and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it!”

“Can..can’t you block them or report them, there has to be something you can do about it. That’s harassment, look if they keep doing this my boss knows plenty of good lawyers if you have photos of the things they are saying we might have grounds for a lawsuit or at the very least you might be able to get a PFA.”

“Great.” She scoffed, “Going into high school and I’ll be the fragile girl who went off the deep end when her mother died and couldn’t handle some mean comments from kids at school so she had daddy sue them for her. I’m sure I’ll make plenty of friends that way dad!” 

“I don’t know what you want me to do!” he yelled, covering his mouth the minute the words left his mouth. Lydia tensed up at the loudness in his voice, she wasn’t afraid but her father never yelled. Very rarely had she ever seen her father get so angry that he yelled, even when she was in trouble or did something bad he would scold her but he never yelled. She felt tears welling up in her eyes and she pinched her hand in an attempt to make them clear up, she didn’t want to cry right now. That was the last thing she wanted to do was fucking cry because she couldn’t handle someone raising their voice even when they weren’t angry at her. Charles softened when he saw his daughter’s demeanor change, he sighed and place a gentle hand on her shoulder and guided her to the kitchen table apologizing for yelling while they walked over together. The two of them sat down, and once more she refused to make eye contact. Her hands laid in her lap and though she was grown Charles couldn’t help but to see the little girl who came running into the kitchen with a scrapped knee looking just as distraught. She was the same little girl but she had big person problems now, he knew he couldn’t fix this with a bandaid and a kiss on the knee, “Sweetheart I want to help. Please can you just tell me what’s happening, I can’t do anything if I don’t know.”

“No, I can’t tell you.”

“Is somebody threatening you?” Charles’ chest tightened as anxiety coursed through his body, “Has someone threatened to hurt you? Because Lydia you don’t have to keep it a secret. No matter what they said they can’t hurt you if you tell.” 

She shook her head aggravated at herself for not having the courage to just tell him, instead she felt awful making him worry and go through the worst possible guesses just because she was scared. The messages online, the texts she was getting, they hurt they frightened her, he could help. She could just tell him and maybe he’ll understand, he’s a grown-up he should know what to do, “They can just be so mean!” she eventually broke down and cried out, “It started with just a few people calling me a dyke when I came to school with short hair but now it’s gotten so out of control kids in the hallways whisper about how I’m queer and some girls won’t even sit near me because they don’t want me flirting with them. They post about it online, they spread rumors about girls that I like and when I go to school the next day they all come up to me and start screaming about how they aren’t gay and they want nothing to do with me, and I don’t even like them! Not that way anyway. They put notes in my locker about it, they text me about it, they just won’t leave me alone. I can’t take it anymore, I want them to stop!”

She buried her head in her arms and shook the table as she cried. Charles sat there awkwardly unsure if she wanted to be hugged or left alone but before he could even move she jerked back up and pulled out her phone, quickly scrolling through and showing her father all the photos she had taken of the stuff they had said. She shut her phone off and sniffled, “They tell me that I’m worthless and I’m a freak, they don’t even know me!”

“You are not worthless Lydia! They are lying to you, kids can be so cruel, making up something that isn’t true and then they spread it around until everyone believes it and then they harras you because of it! It was bad when I went to school but this level of harassment is unacceptable. Lydia, I want names, I know you don’t think it’ll do anything but this is insane-”

“No dad-”

“Lydia don’t argue with me on this. For godsake you are sitting her in tears on the verge of a panic attack because they’re spreading lies about you online…”

“Dad!” She tried to interject

He continued on his tangent, already pulling out his phone ready to call the school and force Lydia to give up names, “You shouldn’t have to deal with this!”

“They aren’t lying!” Lydia yelled. The room going deathly silent as he stared at her and he stared at him. She felt as though the world was in slow motion, she put it out there. She couldn’t take it back, no matter what. She made this choice, she had no other choice, she wanted to do this, she didn’t want to do this. God she was so scared. She wanted him to say something to react but nothing happened she felt more tears welling up in her eyes, her face turning red as she held onto the breath she had just taken in. 

“What are you talk-” he paused and lowered his tone, “Lydia are you?”

“I’m gay.” 

The words once again feeling strange but familiar as she said them, almost powerful. Her confidence quickly waivered and she could see the cogs in her father’s brain churning as he processed what she had just told him. She braced herself for the worst, for screaming and yelling and insults, for him to disown her leaving her parentless and more alone than she already was. She waited for it all to happen, for her life to fall apart. 

He didn’t though. He didn’t react for a good thirty seconds but when he finally did he nodded, “Okay, alright. You’re gay...no honey please no don’t cry! Lydia, it’s okay! It’s okay! I love you, I’ll always love you, honey, this doesn’t change anything. Is this why you’ve been so much more distant lately? Were you afraid to tell me?”

She ran over to her dad and burrowed herself into a hug, nodding in repose into his chest, soaking his shirt with her tears in the process, “I was so afraid to tell anybody. I haven’t told anybody until now, I was so scared that you’d hate me.”

“Hate you?” He pulled away from the hug slightly, not letting her go, “Lydia I would never hate you! I’m so sorry you thought you couldn’t tell me. Honey, I don’t care who you date, I just want you to be happy!”

Lydia’s heart swelled with relief, all the tension drained from her body and she felt so much lighter, almost as if she was going to faint. She held on tighter in the hug, keeping herself upright as she mumbled, “I felt so alone like I had nobody on my side.” 

For the rest of the night, Lydia and her dad talked about what she was going to do about the bullies at her school, reluctantly she ended up giving names of the main offenders and had some of her classes switched so she didn’t have to be around them as much. Charles offered to buy her a different phone so they couldn’t bother her there anymore but she had to promise to take a break from social media or at the very least make all of her accounts private. They ordered Chinese take out and spent the evening just being with each other, what she had said not being questioned or talked about further unless Lydia wanted to bring it up more. When she went to sleep that night Charles sat down at his laptop and typed, “My daughter just came out to me, what do I do?” 

Lydia came home from school the next day already feeling much better having moved classes and not carrying the weight of her secret so heavily. She walked through the door and went to the kitchen to grab a snack when she was her father standing by the counter holding a small rainbow flag and opening his arms for a hug, “I’ll always be on your side.”

[visionsofus]

Field Trips, Infinity Stones, and oh mY GOD IS THAT SPIDER-MAN?

| CH1  |  CH2  |  CH3  |  CH4  |  CH5  |  CH6  |  CH7  |  CH8  |  CH9  |  AO3 

| CHAPTER 10 - endings and beginnings | 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Even though the battle had ended hours ago Peter's blood continued to pump desperately through his veins. It was as though his body had registered that he was safe now but was still on high alert, ready for whatever might come next. It was exhilarating, if somewhat exhausting.

Peter had said goodbye to his classmates three hours earlier. They'd be at the memorial later that night but given where they'd be standing compared to where Peter was supposed to be… it was unlikely that he would see them.

"I'll see you at school then…" Peter said looking down at his feet and then glancing up to meet MJ’s gaze.

"See you then." MJ said slowly, her eyes searching Peter's face.

Peter turned to leave, tugging his backpack closer to his back with one hand. "Peter wait," MJ said reaching out and lightly touching his hand. Peter stopped in his tracks and turned around slowly as she slid her hand into his and squeezed it.

"Remember," She said and with her other hand reached up to brush her finger tips against Peter's temple lightly, "here", her hands moved down to where his heart was "and here." Peter's Spidey senses were still raring to go and the proximity of her hand to his life force made him almost recoil instinctively away. But Peter remained still, brought back by the memory of her words earlier that afternoon.

'For the record I don't think that you ever really lose someone.'

Peter swallowed, looking down at her hand as she withdrew it from his chest. He didn't really know what to say to that. His gratitude couldn't really be put into words, so he settled for a tender squeeze of her other hand which was still in his.

Slowly, MJ let go, allowing Peter to turn around and say goodbye to Ned.

"In case we don't get to see you later," Ned began enveloping Peter in a tight hug, "you'll be fine, I mean come on you're Spider-Man," Ned said quietly. "But if you need to chat later or you need a distraction or anything, just give me a call."

"Thanks Ned." Peter said grinning as he withdrew from the hug.

Though he had tried to ignore it, Peter’s mind had somewhat been spinning after his interaction with MJ and had drawn his focus away from the people he ended up having dinner with. He’d felt good as he ate with May, Happy and Morgan but that high had quickly crashed as soon as they arrived back at Stark Industries.

"Your suit." May said having retrieved a black clothes bag from the back of Happy's car.

Peter raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“Don’t worry, I mean suit, suit." May said smiling and unzipping the bag a fraction so that Peter could see the lapel of the formal jacket.

"Oh right." Peter said, mildly embarrassed but taking it from her non the less.

The Stark Industries bathrooms were not the most comfortable place to get changed into a two-piece suit, but Peter had definitely gotten changed in worse places… he wasn't sure what that said about him and so decided not to dwell on it further. He stepped out into the blue lit bathroom, tugging at the corners of his jacket to straighten it out at the top.

Peter braced his hands on the bathroom sink top and looked at the mirror and at the face staring back. His eyes were looking a lot better compared to how they had appeared at lunch time which was a relief, though Peter couldn’t predict how they might look by the end of the memorial. He wasn’t quite sure what to expect but knew that Pepper’s speech was likely to be emotional. He ran a quick hand through is hair to neaten it out a bit more and looked himself up and down. The quicker this was over, the better.

The drive to City Hall was quiet and a lot shorter than Peter would have liked. He'd expected a little more than the mere ten minutes it took to drive around the corner to gather his thoughts and make himself presentable. Pepper sat alongside Happy in the front of the car, quiet and poised as ever. Peter was sat in the middle of the backseat with his aunt and young Morgan who had insisted she didn't want to sit in the cramped middle seat. Naturally Peter had copped the fall. Morgan had her eyes fixed outside the window and was playing distractedly with one of Peter's hands.

"How are you feeling?" May said quietly, though in the dead silence of the car she might as well have been speaking into a megaphone.

"Alright." Peter said. He was neither good nor bad, in fact after his breakdown in the Lab and then everything else that had happened that afternoon, he was feeling sort of numb. It was a strange feeling and he only hoped that it wasn’t because his emotions were barricaded by a shaky wall that could collapse at any point.

"All right everyone, it's time." Happy said, pulling the car to a smooth stop at a designated parking spot that had been sectioned off for Pepper's entrance.

Happy looked sideways at Pepper and squeezed her hand in solidarity. She smiled back weakly, took a deep breath and opened her door with a soft click. As soon as she did Peter's senses were assaulted by the thrumming noise of shouting press and flashing cameras.

"Don't worry kid." Happy said hearing Peter's loud sigh in response to the crowds of press that were awaiting them. "They've been cornered off to the back, they won't bother you once you get further in towards the stage."

"Come on sweetie." Pepper said, having reached and opened Morgan's door.

"What about Peter?" Morgan asked, keeping a firm hold of Peter's hand.

"I'll be right behind you." Peter said squeezing her hand before pulling it gently from her own.

Morgan frowned and her eyes seemed to doubt him. It made Peter's heart hurt to think of the distrust and why Morgan felt that way. Tony had probably said something similar to her the last time she had seen him. It reminded Peter too much of the way that he had felt after his parents had died.

Morgan's brow furrowed and Peter thought for a moment that she was going to insist that he accompany them, but she relented and allowed herself to be taken out into the waiting eyes of the thousands gathered outside City Hall.

It was the first public memorial since Tony's death. The world had been in such a state following the snap and the return of half the population that Pepper had postponed any sort of public vigil until now. She had wanted the official funeral to be private anyway, the break had enabled her family and Tony's closest friends to mourn him first, before that privilege was shared with the rest of the world. It hadn't stopped the Iron Man shrines that Peter had seen popping up around the city.

Once Pepper and Morgan had made it through the press Happy turned to Peter and nodded to the door. "Our turn."

May reached over to squeeze Peter's shoulder as he braced himself against the door that Morgan had just exited from. He took a deep breath and held it, feeling his heart slow before letting the breath out again as he slowly pushed the door open. As soon as he had he wanted to retreat back behind the protection of the tinted windows and pretend that he wasn't here. But he knew he couldn't… he had to get through this, he owed it to Tony.

"Alright, head down the centre and towards the right, you'll see the others waiting by the stage." Happy told him, holding the door open so that May could follow.

Peter kept his eyes trained on the ground as he walked swiftly through the pathway that divided the press around him. The cameras flashed and Peter raised a hand to shield his eyes from the painful brightness of it all, trying to focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

What on earth were these people photographing him for? They didn't know he was Spider-Man, they couldn’t. Right now, he was just Peter Parker, a high school nobody. Were they just keen to get his photo after seeing him exit the same car as Tony's immediate family?

"Peter Parker, what can you tell us about your relationship to Tony Stark? We'd love a statement!" Someone yelled to his left.

"Some have labelled you Stark's protégé, what do you have to say to that Mr Parker?" Another woman yelled, getting far too close to Peter's face for comfort.

The question made Peter stop in his tracks, heart thundering.

Protégé?

Was this a joke?

"Peter, honey?" May said reaching his side and putting a comforting hand on his back.

"I can't." Peter said his voice thick with emotion. He was beginning to feel out of control, all the sounds and sights around him weren't helping at all.

"Yes, you can." Happy said putting a firm hand on Peter's shoulder and walking him forward. In that moment it was all Peter needed to stop himself from falling apart in the middle of what the press seemed to think was a reality programme or some sort of approved conference, rather than the memorial of the man who had saved their lives.

Protégé?

Happy steered Peter through the people and round to the right, avoiding the thousands that had gathered before the stage. As they walked, a roped off area of chairs came into view and Peter caught sight of the other Avengers. He spotted Bruce first, his huge form putting him head and shoulders above everyone else. Beside him were Wanda, Sam and Bucky, all dressed respectfully in black. Representing Wakanda in her brother's absence was Shuri, dressed in what appeared to be a combination of traditional Wakandan mourning clothes and a black floor length dress. An empty seat that read Peter Parker had been placed between Shuri and Carol Danvers, with Nick Fury to her right. Behind them sat Valkyrie, on behalf of New Asgard, along with Stephen Strange, Nebula and Thor, both of whom had seemingly made the trip back from wherever it was they had been in space in order to attend the memorial. Alongside them were Scott, Hope and Clint.

"May will be right over here if you need anything, and I'm just up there." Happy said indicating the stage at the front of the still growing crowd. "If you need anything just shoot me a text, or I'm sure one of these sods will be able to help you."

"Thanks, Happy." Peter said, surprising the man by hugging him quickly and tightly. "Don't know what I'd be doing without you."

"It's what I do." Happy said supportively as Peter drew back again. "I did it for Tony and you can be darn sure I'll do it for you too." Happy's voice cracked slightly with emotion and he pulled a handkerchief out to dab at his eyes as he left Peter with the Avengers and took his place up on the stage beside Colonel Rhodes, Morgan and Pepper.

Peter was gestured into the area by a man in a smart suit with an ear piece. Peter nodded his thanks and made his way slowly over to his seat.

Bruce squeezed his arm as he passed, and Peter smiled weakly in response. He nodded a couple of greetings and froze when Thor rose from his seat to embrace Peter in a tight hug. Thor's beard was damp with tears, but it didn't stop Peter from returning the hug with vigour. Who knew when he'd next get to see the god of thunder.

Peter sat down quietly in between Carol and Shuri.

"Good to see you again, Peter." Carol said smiling at him sympathetically, "I wish it were under different circumstances."

"Me too.' Peter said returning the smile as much as he could bring himself to.

"It is sad, yet beautiful at the same time." Shuri said and Peter glanced at her, ready to ask what she meant. Her eyes, however, were cast out to the crowd before them that was beginning to quieten now that Pepper had moved up to the podium and the microphone that sat on it.

Peter had managed to keep his eyes down as he had walked to his seat but now that he was away from the press and somewhat off to the side, out of the prying eyes of the public, he took the time to take in the scene before him. Thousands, perhaps tens of thousands of people were cramped outside the front of City Hall, spilling out over the sidewalk and onto the road. Those who couldn’t fit were up in the buildings surrounding the square, with windows open so they could hear and see what was happening below. Peter knew that somewhere amongst that crowd were his classmates. He spotted them pretty quickly, the yellow Midtown blazers standing out clearly in the crowd. He picked out MJ and Ned easily and watched them for a while. As though he could feel Peter’s eyes on him Ned looked to the right, catching sight of Peter sitting in the front row of seats with the other Avengers. Ned’s jaw dropped open in shock and Peter smiled weakly as Ned hastily grabbed MJ’s attention, indicating where Peter was sitting. Even from where he was sitting Peter could see MJ tilt her heard in surprise and something like realisation dawned on her face, followed quickly by a wry smile that made Peter nervous. She elbowed Flash next to her, pointing at where Peter was sitting. Before he could meet Flash’s eyes Peter turned back to the crowd, continuing to take in the sight before him. Deep down he knew that he would have enjoyed the look of shock on Flash’s face but right now it didn’t seem to matter. After everything that had happened, Flash’s poking and prodding seemed like the childish concerns of a high school student, and sitting up there with the Avengers, Peter didn’t really feel like one.

Look back out over the crowd Peter could see that everyone held a candle of some kind and, as the sky had darkened considerably now, light was beginning to spread as people passed around their lighters or simply shared their flame with the person standing beside them. The light spread as the chatter died and even the press quietened, save for the occasional flash of a camera. As Peter's eyes drifted over the crowd in front of him, he felt something akin to being punched in the stomach. Every other child - no it had to be more than that - was wearing some sort of Iron Man memorabilia. Mostly masks, though Peter could see T-Shirts and toys as well.

"Thank you all for gathering today, I cannot express how much it means to my family… how much it would have meant for Tony, to see you all here today." Pepper began her speech, her voice crackling out over the speakers that were set up around the perimeter of the crowd.

Peter's eyes followed the crowd, so intently that Pepper's voice became a sort of background noise. He didn't do it to disrespect her, in fact if anything he did it out of extreme respect for Pepper’s speech giving skills. He knew the effect that her eulogy to Tony Stark would have on him. He knew what Pepper was going to say, he had already heard the more authentic version at Tony's real funeral and the words had stuck with him so strongly that he wasn't sure he could take hearing it again. So instead he focused on the crowd, he watched the emotions of the strangers before him as a way to prevent his own from causing him pain, and slowly he began to dissociate from the situation at hand. He watched as a woman clutched her husband and son to her tightly, squeezing both their hands and looking up to the sky, which had turned a mottled grey in the dimming light, as though thanking god for giving Tony Stark the strength to save her family. Two brothers stood side by side, shoulder to shoulder, thanking Tony Stark for bringing them back to life in time to say farewell to their aged mother, allowing her to pass in peace. A father steadied his young son, who was perched atop his shoulders, and squeezed the six-year old's hands, thanking fate for taking them together during the Snap and then thanking Tony Stark for having the power to bring them both back. A boy, barely 17 stood with his hands shoved in his pockets, hiding the yellow and red spray paint stained fingers that had created yet another Iron Man mural not thirty minutes ago. His father disapproved but that didn't stop him paying respect to the hero that the world had so desperately needed. A young woman stood alone, she had been alone before the snap and was alone after it, but Tony Stark's sacrifice had brought her back to life so she had a duty to do something with it this time, in fact, she had just been successful in her application to Stark Industries and would be starting in the fall. Beside her a young girl took her hand, helping to light the candle grasped in her palms with her own. As it's light lit up her face, she smiled.

Peter looked out over the people before him, their faces lit by the warm light of candles and the many emotions displayed there. In that moment it really hit him how many lives that Tony Stark had touched in his lifetime. There was sincerity on every face, uniting them all in the face of grief. None of those faces held the bitterness that Peter had seen in the six people who had broken into Stark Industries that afternoon. He had noticed the bitterness in himself even, the regret at having lost his parents, uncle Ben and then Tony Stark and not being able to do anything to stop any of it. There was the annoyingly persistent feeling that there was something Peter could have, should havedone better to make sure that Tony had lived to see his daughter grow up. In that moment Peter made the conscious decision to put the bitterness behind him. He wouldn't allow himself to become like Daniel, destroyed by anger and regret. Peter would honour Tony's memory, he'd continue Tony's legacy to the best of his ability and hopefully one day feel that he would have made Tony proud. At least that was how he felt deep down but given his present situation and the internal conflict he was feeling about being Spider-Man, it would likely be a little more complicated than that.

Peter was struggling to see past the mistiness in his eyes at this point and started slightly when Nick Fury reached past Carol to pass him a handkerchief. Peter took it wordlessly and pressed it to his eyes as he let the tears fall quietly. The feeling of the soft cotton against his eyes grounded him once more and all his senses returned to him.

Shuri took a hold of his left hand gently, grasping Bucky's beside her as one by one, the Avenger's took their comrades hands in solidarity and stood. Those amongst the crowd who had been sitting now rose. At the front of the crowd Happy, Morgan and Rhodey came to stand beside Pepper.

"Please join us in a moment of silence." Pepper said emotionally, stepping off the podium and pulling Morgan into her arms.

Peter breathed deeply in the quiet hush that fell as some bowed their head in grief, whilst others cast their eyes to the sky in thanks. It was not quite silent though. All throughout the crowd people were passing whispers of 'we will not forget'.

Peter felt the tears falling from his eyes once more and bit his lip to keep from letting a quiet sob escape. On his left Carol Danvers squeezed his hand, a reminder that he wasn't alone. The people around him, this amazing group of individuals who all made the conscious decision every day to put their powers to good use and help the people around them. They who had lost but come back stronger than ever. Peter had always felt somewhat separate due to his age but in that moment, he felt he stood on equal ground with the other Avengers, he really felt like he was part of something. It was a feeling he didn't want to give up.

Stay to the right of the crowd, May will join you soon and I'll swing the car round to pick you both up.

Peter read Happy's message again to be sure that he was in the right place. He stood weakly on his tippy toes as he peered out over the dispersing crowd, casting an ear out for the sound of May's voice but hearing nothing notable.

"Queens." Said a quiet voice and Peter started, spinning to his left.

"Mr Rogers?" Peter asked curiously, looking at the old man now standing beside him.

"Do I look that different?" said the slightly older (ok perhaps slightlywas being too polite) version of Captain America. Peter had no idea how Steve was still able to sneak up on him even in his old age.

"No- uh no of course not." Said Peter, stumbling over his words awkwardly and looking Cap up and down.

"Good to see you again kid." Steve said smiling. "How are you holding up?"

"Yeah I'm ok." Peter said trying for a light tone but failing miserably. "Why weren't you with everyone at the front?"

"I wanted to be out among the crowd for a bit." Steve said. "Plus, it’d be a little difficult to live life normally if everyone knows my identity again." Steve looked up the buildings towering around them, lit brightly against the now dark backdrop of the sky. "Will we catch you swinging around New York any time soon? It would be good to have you out there again."

"Ah… well my suit got kind of fried today and it's broken now." Peter said solemnly, looking down at his shiny black shoes.

"So?"

Peter frowned and looked up at Steve. "What do you mean ‘so’? I can't exactly 'swing around New York' without the suit."

"So fix it." Steve said as though it were obvious. "They're calling you Stark's protégé out there and I don't doubt that you can live up to that title."

"Well I don't know… it's not really that simple." Peter said scratching the back of his head.

"I don't know kid, it sounds pretty simple to me." Steve said warmly, clapping Peter on the back. Peter twisted his head as a car beeped in their direction and saw Happy waiting for him on the other side of the street.

"I gotta-" Peter began but turned to find that Steve had left, “go…”. A bobbing blue cap disappearing into the crowd was the only indication that the retired Captain America had even been there at all.

Peter frowned but crossed the street anyway, conscious of the way that Steve's words were now ringing through is head and the fact that his backpack, and more importantly his suit was in the back of Happy's car.

So Fix it.

Peter was silent as Happy drove them all back to Stark Industries, Cap's words buzzing in his head.

"Peter?" Pepper said and Peter started, looking around and realising that Pepper was now outside, speaking to him through the window that Happy had put down. "A word?"

Peter nodded wordlessly and popped the car handle, pushing the door open as he stepped out into the slight chill of the night. He couldn't help being slightly apprehensive of what Pepper wanted to talk to him about. It was no doubt something to do with her ominous comment about his ‘future at Stark Industries’ she had mentioned earlier and the lab on the 27th floor which they hadn't had the chance to talk about yet.

"I know it's not the best timing and I'm sure that you're tired after everything that happened today…" Pepper pulled a clear folder from her handbag and extended it to Peter. He recognised the logo of Stark Industries on its surface. "We want you here… Tony would have wanted you here. Of course, it's entirely your decision and if you decide you want to focus on school I completely understand. But we could really use you."

Peter frowned. "You mean you could use my brain."

Pepper smiled, "No… we could use Peter Parker, every part of him."

Peter's brow furrowed further into what could have resembled a scowl to someone who didn't know him very well. Pepper could practically see the cogs working in his brain as he thought.

"I really don't think that I am cut out for all this. That lab, everything that Mr Stark talked about… I just don't think that I could do all that."

"Don't you get it Peter? You already were before the Snap, whether that was as Spider-Man or not you were helping people, people that need help. Tony could see it. I see it. So why don't you?"

Peter didn't know what to say to that.

"Just take the file and have a read over it. The contract doesn't have a starting date yet so it's whenever you feel that you are ready. There’s no rush but I hope you seriously consider it." Pepper said and Peter slowly took the file from her. She squeezed his shoulder once and went back to the car to talk to May.

Peter looked down at the file and the logo on its surface. Stark Industries. This place had become something of a haven for Peter from the troubles of being a high school student, and, occasionally, the struggles of being Spider-Man. Tony had given him a place to work, to put his brain into practical use and try and change the world even if it was only one or two tiny steps at a time.

"Peter we better get going!" May called out the open window from where Happy was waiting to drive them back home.

"Just give me a second!" Peter said, slinging his backpack round to his chest and rooting through it to find his earpiece case. His hands brushed past Tony's hard drive and the cool metal casing of his broken suit. His fingers closed around the black plastic of his earpiece and he pulled it out hastily.

"Karen?" He asked having gotten one of the buds into his ear.

"Hello Peter? How was the memorial?" Karen said immediately responding to his voice.

"It was ok. I just need to talk to you for a moment."

"Of course."

"I've just been offered a job at Stark Industries…" Saying it out loud seemed to make everything more real.

"Congratulations."

"Thanks. I just don't know if I should take it? You saw how I was in the Spider suit the other night and that wasn’t even under pressure.”

“I have been researching more strategies to cope with panic attacks should they happen again in the future.” Karen said after a moment, her artificial brain searching for what Peter needed from her.

“It’s not just that though… I haven’t really been Spider-Man this last month. I don’t know if I’m cut out to do it anymore… I don’t know if I’m worthy…” Peter said, the words tasted bad as the left his mouth.

"I have sent a scan of your body and vitals that was taken by the suit today to your phone." Karen said.

Peter raised his eyebrows in surprise and fished his phone out of his pocket, opening the email that he had just received from Karen.

"In the left-hand corner, you will see a rundown of your hormones, in particular I recorded the level of dopamine, if you compare this with the time you took the suit out and had the panic attack the levels are drastically different."

"How did you manage to do that." Peter said as he brought both scans up side by side. Despite wearing the suit both times, his body seemed to be in two very different states.

"I can explain to you another time but what I am trying to get across is that you were happy being Spider-Man today."

"Happy? It was so stressful though."

"The hormone doesn't lie. Nor does the audio-visual footage that the suit collected today, shall I show some of those?"

"No, no need. I get what you are saying." Peter said.

"Perhaps we can see about getting clinical help for your panic attacks. From then I believe that you will be right back on track to where you were five years ago. I know you still enjoy being Spider-Man, Peter, the science doesn't lie."

"Ok, say that I do love being Spider-Man and I still have what it takes. How do you know that I still have what it takes as Peter Parker, especially a Peter Parker who works at Stark Industries with a private lab? I'm damaged goods Karen. I've lost almost everyone important in my life and I've been powerless to stop it every single time."

"I did not think you were the type to give up Peter. I cannot convince you of your own worth, it would be meaningless for me to try - that is something you have to figure out yourself." Karen said and then fell silent.

Peter waited for her to say something more, but it appeared she had effectively ‘hung up’ on their communication. "Rude." Peter muttered taking the ear piece out again.

He knew he loved being Spider-Man. Karen was right about the Dopamine, he hadfelt good today. That moment when the suit found him as he fell had been terrifyingly wonderful and had made him realise exactly how much he had missed being Spider-Man, how much he wouldmiss it if he were to actually give up. But working at SI would be a whole other step up - he was barely in control of himself, he didn't know what exactly being a proper employee, not just an intern anymore, would entail. Again, he looked down at the file clamped tightly in his hands.

You're good enough.

Tony's words in the recorded message from the lab spun through his head over and over until slowly he started believing it.

They're calling you Stark's protégé out there and I don't doubt that you can live up to that title.

Peter didn't feel he deserved that title quite yet… but he was sure that he could do something with his brain. Surely, he could put what Mr Stark had taught him to good use somehow? But where to start, he wasn’t ready to accept the position just yet, but his mind was awake now and he felt the need to do something.

So fix it.

Peter's mind darted to his broken suit sitting in the back of Happy’s car. Perhaps that was the first step. Fix the machine and then turn his attention to fixing himself. One step at a time.

Suddenly his brain started going a million miles an hour, darting to solutions for the suit, perhaps he might even make some additions of his own. There was so much that he wanted to do, and his fingers were itching to work. He hadn't felt like this for a month. He hadn't even wanted to look at tech since the battle. Something had changed today.

"We'll see you soon Peter." Pepper said hopefully, walking back over to him holding a sleepy Morgan in her arms.

Peter bit his lip and nodded, his mind still spinning as thoughts flew through it. Pepper walked past him towards Stark Industries entrance. She had just reached the doors when Peter's mind snapped into a decision and he jumped forward, running after Pepper.

"Wait!"

Pepper turned around, eyebrows raised in question as Peter reached her.

"Wait…" Peter clutched the file to his chest. "I don't have an answer yet, but I'd like to take the first step to maybe having a decision."

"What are you suggesting?" Pepper said curiously.

"My suit…I broke it today. Let me stay over at the lab this weekend. I'll fix it. I have to fix it. I think that might help me get back into my old swing." Peter explained, trying not to babble.

"I don't have a problem with it, that lab is there for your use." Pepper said mulling it over. "If May says its ok, you're welcome to stay."

"Thanks." Peter said grinning and dashing back to the car, if Karen could take a scan of his body now, he was sure that she would be able to see a ton of Dopamine. With excitement thrumming through his veins Peter threw open the car door and pulled his very best puppy eyes out to plead with May.

"Uh oh," May said recognising the expression that had tricked her into buying candy and ice creams when he was younger, "what do you want?"

"Well," Peter began, searching for the best combination of words that might encourage May to let him get away with this. "Pepper has offered me a job here at Stark Industries and I've told her I'll consider it, I'm still not sure what is happening with the future."

May nodded approvingly but was not as surprised as Peter had expected. She eyed the file he held, she’d most likely want to look through the contract herself later.

"But in the meantime, my Spidey suit is fried, and I really need it back up and running so I can take it out and y'know start being Spider-Man again…" Peter said trailing off and looking pleadingly at May. His gaze shifted to Happy who was smiling knowingly. "So, Pepper said it's alright if I stay here at SI over the weekend and work on my suit in my lab."

"Hold up." May said putting a finger up. "Your lab?"

"Yeah… it was supposed to be a birthday present from Mr Stark." Peter explained.

"Wow ok…" May said thoughtfully. "I don't know Peter, you'll be having finals soon and that's really important for college - yes I know you've already gotten several scholarships, but I thought we were holding out for MIT? I don't really like the idea of you being at this lab all weekend either, I know how you and Tony used to get with work - he was the only reason you took any breaks!"

"Yes, I am but this could really help." Peter pleaded. "You know what this last month has been like, I need this May. I lost part of myself at the end of last month and today was the first time that I really felt like I had gained some of that back, I don't want to stop now."

May frowned sceptically and looked at Happy, who seemed to be all for Peter's proposal.

"Please," Peter sighed defeatedly, "if you let me stay, I promise I'll think seriously about talking to a counsellor."

May's head snapped towards Peter in shock. "Sorry? What made you change your mind? On Monday you wouldn't even let me get a sentence out about counselling."

"Ah well Karen talked to me and I don't know… maybe it could be a good idea?"

"Oh, what? So the robot's advice matters more."

"Well she does sorta know everything, or at least has the capacity to." Peter shrugged sheepishly.

"Get down her idiot." May said holding her arms out for a hug. "You better get some rest tonight though! None of this working all night and all day ok? I expect to get texts keeping me in the loop with what is happening, and you better be home in time for dinner on Sunday otherwise you are going to be seriously grounded."

“I’ll make sure he is.” Happy assured her helpfully.

"Thank you." Peter said squeezing his aunt tightly.

"Take care of yourself, do you need me to drop anything by tomorrow morning?" May asked.

"I think I should still have some clothes from last time hopefully." Peter said only realising later how silly that was – surely they wouldn’t have kept his clothes for five years?

"Alright, keep in contact and I'll see you Sunday." May said withdrawing from the hug and looking at Happy. "Oh don't give me that smug look, I know this is what you wanted."

"See you later kid." Happy said smiling and tipped his head to Peter.

Peter grinned and dashed around the other side of the car to get to the boot, high fiving Happy on his way. Happy popped the back of the car open and Peter grabbed his backpack, shouldering it and feeling relief at the weight of the suit against his back. Satisfied, Peter walked back over to the entrance of SI.

"Looks like that is a yes then?" Pepper said adjusting Morgan in her arms.

"Yep." Peter said grinning. "Just for the weekend, I won't be in anyone's way… although if I could borrow the old room I used to sleep in that would be awesome."

"Of course, not much has changed though." Pepper said leading the way into the still bustling building. "Tony could never bring himself to get rid of your stuff."

"Welcome Spider-Man." Said the generic elevator bot once Peter had reached the 27th floor.

"It is good to have you back again Peter. Thank you for your help this afternoon. Are we likely to see you here often?" Friday asked, her voice crackling through the intercom of the elevator.

"Not sure, Friday." Peter said shrugging as he looked out down the corridor that led towards the lab at the end. "Still deciding."

"Of course, let me know if there is anything you need."

"Thanks Friday." Peter said stepping out into the corridor and getting a weird sense of déjà vu.

He tugged his backpack closer to his back and pushed up the sleeves of one of his old hoodies that he must have left last time he was at SI five years ago. Sure enough, the guest room Peter had used in the personal Stark quarters at SI was still the way that he had left it, along with a duffel bag containing several changes of clothes. The jumper had a faintly old smell about it, but Peter couldn't really bring himself to care - it was better than keeping on the suit he had been in for the memorial.

Yet again Peter was asked to say his name at the doors, and he obliged, watching them slide open to reveal the dark abyss that was the lab… his lab.

Peter was prepared for the light this time when he switched the electricity on and wasn't as shocked as he took the room in.

"Karen?" Peter called out and watched as the holo-tables jumped to life and her familiar voice crackled over the intercom.

"Welcome back Peter, I'm glad to see you have made this decision. I really think it is wise."

"Yeah, yeah. I know you're always right."

"One of the side effects of being Artificial Intelligence I am afraid."

Peter grinned and laughed at her.

"I guess you couldn't just open the glass case, it had to break huh?" Peter said looking over to his suit cases and seeing that the one that had held the Iron Spider suit was now in shattered pieces on the floor.

"Time was of the essence. I'll put an order in for a new one." Karen replied.

"What is the plan?" Karen asked once Peter had set his backpack down on one of the counter tops and started to unpack it.

"Fix my suit I guess?" Peter said pulling out the folded-up suit and laying it out fully on the table. "Though I am not entirely sure where to start."

"I'll bring up the schematics so you can see everything on a holo-table." Karen said and seconds later a hologram layout of his suit appeared on the holo-table to his left.

"Thanks." Peter said and enlarged it, looking at the red areas which Karen had identified as areas in need of attention.

He blew the hologram up bigger so that he could actually pull apart some of the hologram wires and try and mimic what he would need to do with the suit. He connected a wire wrongly and holographic sparks exploded, it was like he was playing a game of operation. "Ah that was dumb," Peter said at his mistake and scratched his head, looking closer at the suit. "Hey Karen, if I write you a list of tools, I need can we somehow get them up here?"

Peter was so distracted by the hologram that he didn't register the clicking and whirring of an object shifting around the corner.

"No need, it appears that Mr Stark already bought everything you’d need, check the draws to your left for tools."

Indeed, when Peter opened the stainless-steel draws beneath the workbench, he found all the tools he could have possibly wanted and more. Peter got out what he needed onto the bench and laid everything out neatly. He placed his suit at the centre with his tools just to the right, and to his left was his backpack, Tony's hard drive and his new access card which he couldn't help admiring every now and then.

Something had changed in him. Perhaps Shuri's invention frying his suit was exactly the motivation that Peter needed to begin working through his grief. He now was able to comprehend why he had been so averse to any contact with the suit or even with the lab as he had seen earlier that day. His heart and his brain weren't processing his grief, they hadn't been. No matter how much he cried, no matter how much regret he felt, no matter how many times he chose to feel numb instead … Peter wasn't allowing himself to process the passing of Tony Stark. And it was about damn time he start. He had been beating himself up for a month, subconsciously punishing himself for something he couldn't change and he probably couldn't have stopped if what Doctor Stephen Strange had said was true. Tony wouldn't have wanted Peter to keep moping. Peter realised that now.

Just like he was sure Tony might have done, Peter began to work as he processed his thoughts. He let his hands take over as he tinkered on the suit and let his brain flow free, not stopping himself or beating himself up for thinking of Tony or Natasha or the battle with Thanos. He let himself feel sad as he remembered Tony. He decided that just as he wasn't going to allow grief to make him bitter, he wasn't going to let sadness or emotion be an enemy. Emotion wasn't weakness but if he let this all build up things were just going to get worse and worse and Peter didn't want that to happen.

While Peter worked, he chatted on and off with Karen, mostly about mundane things. He had been working for almost half an hour when a crash around the corner made him jump. Was there someone else in here with him? Surely not.

"Hello?" he called out anyway.

He got up from the workbench and followed the wall around past glass windows towards what was a larger work space, in fact it looked more like a testing space. Peter switched on another set of lights and expected to come face to face with some horror, he even braced himself for it, wondering whether he should race back and grab a web shooter for protection.

Instead it was a rather interesting looking robot. It stood by the glass window, seemingly looking out at the wonderful view the lab had of New York.

It took a moment before Peter recognised the robot as one of Tony's.

"Dum-E?" Peter said hesitantly and the robot whirred, turning its claw towards him and clicking softly.

Peter watched as the robot trundled towards him surprisingly quickly and stepped out of the way as it went into the work space he had just left.

"What are you doing here?" Peter asked, following close behind.

Dum-E of course did not respond and instead it was Karen who spoke up. "Security footage shows Happy Hogan depositing Dum-E here this afternoon before you went for dinner."

"Damn." Peter pondered. "Guess Happy really thought that I would come back right?"

"It appears he has faith in you."

"Looks like I have some expectations to fulfil." Peter said returning to the work bench. Honestly! Pepper offering him a job. The press and Steve Rogers calling him Tony's protégé. Now Happy seemingly knowing Peter even better than he thought he knew himself. Peter was starting to realise quite how big the shoes he was trying to fill were.

He watched Dum-E for a little bit but the robot mostly busied itself with cleaning up the shattered glass on the floor near Peter's suit cases.

"Thanks Dum-E." He called out and the robot clicked and whirred in response.

Peter managed to work peacefully for another fifteen minutes before he was startled by the sound of Dum-E bumping into the large holo-table in the centre of Peter's workspace, causing the dormant device to burst to life. The robot fumbled as it dropped the dustpan full of glass and Peter sighed - this was probably why Tony had called it Dum-E.

The robot whirred what sounded oddly like disappointment. It collected the class up again and set the dustpan on the holo-table this time - seemingly leaving it for Peter to take care of. The movement somehow brought to life the video that had been playing when Peter had left his lab earlier that afternoon.  

"I'm sure things aren't ideal right now but know that whatever life throws at you, you have the strength to get through it all, no matter what, I know you-" Tony had burst to life against the holo-table, scaring Dum-E so badly that the robot almost fell over. Peter jumped up to pause the video. Mr Stark flickered slightly in his paused state and Dum-E clicked sadly. He turned his head to Peter and clacked his claws together once before turning back to the screen.

Peter sighed deeply. If he was going to keep using the lab and potentially take a job at SI, then he should hear the rest of what past-Tony had to say.

With a shaky hand, Peter reached out and pressed the play button, watching as the hologram came back into focus and Tony began to speak once more.

"-can do it. I've never met a kid like you before Peter, and no I'm not just talking about your weird Spidey powers. You,Peter Parker, are enough. In fact, your more than enough, you have such a huge capacity to do good and what's even more amazing about that is that you wantto."

Peter breathed deeply and tried his best to believe the words that Tony was saying. But his eyes were beginning to sting again, and the words were so overwhelmingly positive that he struggled to process it all. Somehow, he felt so different compared to the first time he had been at the lab. He really meant what he had said to May earlier, Peter had lost a part of himself and it seemed that things were slowly starting to get back on track - maybe watching the rest of Tony's message would help him somehow.

"I know I was just a mentor, but you have to know that I love you, kid. You are so unapologetically good. You're one of the few of us that are. I know you're young, but I can tell already that you are going to do seriously incredible things and I intend on being there every step of the way-" Peter's heart tugged painfully at that, "because someone has to take the credit for teaching you so well, right?"

Peter chuckled emotionally.

"Anyway, this is dragging on a little bit, so I'll wrap it up here. If all goes according to plan, I'll be seeing you in a few days and this video will be deleted and buried so deep it’ll never see the life of day. If not? Then hopefully neither of us cry too much." Tony turned around about to press pause but then seemed to think better of it.

"One last thing. I can remember the first time I met you so clearly. I remember asking you why you did the things you did, whyyou were Spider-Man, not just the kid with freakish powers." Tony said crossing his arms. "And you told me that when you could do the things you can, but you don't the bad things that happen are on your shoulders. That's stuck with me a long-time kid, who knew the words of a fifteen-year-old could be so influential. I trust that you're still sticking true to your moral code." With that the hologram shut off and the video ended and Peter was left feeling almost winded with grief.

Peter bowed his head and tried to push off the short burst of shame he felt. Had he stayed true to his own code? He could remember telling Tony that all those years ago. It was true then. And as Peter searched his heart, he felt that it had to be true now too.

Peter pat Dum-E awkwardly on the head and went back to his work table. He stood there looking down at the suit, he had managed to piece back together most of it, but it was a slow process and it would probably take most of the night before the suit was fully functioning again.

As he worked, he continued to think of what Tony had said. Yes, Peter was still a bit of a mess, what had happened last month had broken him, or at least part of him. But Peter recognised recovery as a process, he was only now starting to get back on his feet and take the first shaky steps towards finding that part of himself he had lost with Tony Stark's passing. He still wanted to stay true to the words he had told Tony all those years ago and it would take time, but he was sure that he would get there. It was all about putting one foot in front of the other.

"Karen?"

"Yes Peter?"

"What's the weather like tonight?" Peter asked casually.  

"Clear sky tonight, approximately 70 degrees at present. There is little to no chance of rain and a north westerly breeze of 7 miles per hour."

"I'd say that sounds like perfect weather to take this suit out on the town, what do you say?" Peter asked as he worked.

"Sounds perfect to me Peter."

The moon was high above Peter's head as he crouched on top of Stark Industries. The head of his Iron Spider suit was down, allowing a soft breeze to ruffle his hair. Peter closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling for a moment. He breathed in deeply, the air seemed cleaner up here than it did on the streets below.

Slowly, Peter stretched his arms up over his head and enjoyed the feeling of stretching after being cramped over his work bench for so long. As he did the plated surface of the suit shifted with him, clinking as it did. Once Peter had stretched upwards, he swung his arms by his side and tried to loosen his shoulders up a bit.

"Vitals are normal." Karen said in his ear.

"Yeah I feel ok." Peter said looking out over New York.

"Where would you like to begin?"

"I don't know, find me something interesting?"

"There are eight police vehicles currently in pursuit of a vehicle on Spring St, reports say the assailants have just robbed a bank." Karen provided helpfully and Peter grinned.

"Sounds perfect."

"I have noted a significant spike in your adrenaline Peter."

"Even better."

With that, Peter's helmet snapped up to protect his head as he took a few steps back and braced himself. Kicking off with his right leg he ran across the roof of Stark Industries, perhaps his soon to be place of employment, and launched himself off the side. While the suit blocked out the chill of the air that was streaming past him, the feeling of falling was still as incredible as ever. It was the closest Peter would get to flying. With the expert precision of someone who had done it for years, Peter aimed his web to the nearest building and shot it upwards, eyes flicking up to the night sky as he did.

He wrapped his hands around the web and allowed himself to soar upwards, letting out a cathartic yell of triumph as he did.

The recovery was going to be a process. But he had taken the first leap towards it and was prepared to put the effort in now. He would be Peter Parker, he would always be Peter Parker and no one could take that away from him. He would be the Peter Parker who tried to make Ned laugh each day and tried harder to earn a smile out of MJ. The Peter Parker who watched out for his aunt and made sure he didn’t worry her too much. He would continue to be the Peter Parker that Morgan Stark might need, an older brother watching out for her and always ready to help. To Happy and Pepper he would, perhaps, be the Peter Parker who worked at Stark Industries while, perhaps, completing a degree at MIT. To Tony Stark, Peter Parker had always been enough. Tony had been the first one to see the light of Peter Parker, to see the good that he could accomplish. It was Tony that had taught him that he was Peter Parker first and Spider-Man second, that Peter Parker was just as importantand just as worthyof his power with or without a mask.

Peter would do his best to keep the memory of Tony Stark alive. He'd try his best every day to make him proud, regardless of whether or not Tony knew that and was watching over him from some unknown world, perhaps in some undiscovered timeline. Peter would grieve when he could and ask for help when he needed it and slowly, he would gain back that piece of himself that he was searching for, whose loss had made him feel broken but had now provided him with the motivation to try harder.

And he would be the Peter Parker that the people needed. He would continue trying to right the wrongs of others and help people. Not because of the expectant words of Steve Rogers, or the shouted cries of ‘protégé’ from the press. Not because Pepper had asked him to join SI or because Happy had expected him to. Peter would do it because he wanted to, because he had a sincere desire to use his power for good. That was the most important thing.

That was what made him an Avenger.

THE END

stay tuned for the sequel 

[ihaveakoreanseoul]

Shoot Out Part I

Work Count~3.4k. Warnings- None for now!

Hey this is my first fic I hope y’all like it! 😁

It was the darkest of times, but it was in the dark that you found your light.

Juyeon (The Boyz) x Reader

Hyunjin (Stray Kids) x Reader [Next chapter!]

Mafia! AU; Werewolf! AU

The year is 2030, and America has reverted back to a monarchical rule. But the ruler is not a king, a figurehead to represent the glory of the country. No, the tyrant of the times is something much more dangerous, hooded figures that descended upon the people like a plague, and only left when their prey was lying on the concrete, their life pouring out of the slice on their throat, or bullet holes in their chest. It is the mafia, the criminals, the demons who hold the country’s fate in their hands. My name is (Y/N) (L/N), and I know the mafia very well, too well, and this is my story.

It all began on an auspicious day, but not the kind you would think of. The sky was not overcast, there were not raindrops falling from the sky, as if the heavens were mourning. It was my 18th birthday. The sun was peering over the clouds, as if to timidly wish me well, and all flowers in the city seemed to be blooming fuller than the day before. For the first time in what seemed like forever, I woke up for class with energy, which had never happened before without the aid of copious amounts of caffeine. I primped as one normally does on their birthday, with the feeling that of any day of the year, I should at least look presentable on the day dedicated to my existence.

Instead of taking a motor-scooter as I often would, I decided to take a stroll to class. I attend University of Chicago, which compared to the rest of the city, feels like a haven for intellectuals and pacifists. With Chicago being one of the largest cities in the country, its connections to the underground world of the mafia ran deep. Even a step off of campus would make my shoulders tremble with fear, and my eyes constantly dart over my surroundings. But here on campus, my heart was light as I practically floated to class.

As soon as I took a step into the classroom, my classmates immediately started the obligatory birthday greetings. Calls of “Happy Birthday (Y/N)!”, “Wow I can’t believe you’re 18!”, “Have any special plans for today?” all rang through the room. I smiled widely in return, and then scurried to my seat to see my best friends. “Hey guys!” I cheerfully came up behind my two best friends, and slung my arms over their shoulders.

“Hey girl!” Amanda said as she spun around to give me a hug, “Happy Birthday!”

“Thanks! But the more important subject… Are you ready to party tonight?” I was practically bouncing with excitement. Ever since the mafia had started their rule, the drinking age was lowered to 18, so they could try to increase the sales on the alcohol industry that they owned. My friends were older than me, so they had already scouted most of the clubs and town, and had decided which one would be suitable for my introduction to the clubbing world.

“I’ve never been so ready in my life,” my other friend Jessica called out, “I am so ready to see this one wasted.”

“Jessica!” I scolded exasperatedly, “I’m not looking to wake up tomorrow with my head over the toilet, so don’t expect too much.”

“The mood killer as always, (Y/N),” she shoots back.

I flash a bright smile, and pinch her cheeks while I respond in a sing-songy voice, “You know it! That's why you love me.”

“You wish,” she sent a playful glare my way as she batted my hands away from her face.

I just giggled and response, and at that moment the professor walked in.

“Good morning class!” our professor called out, which was met with muttered responses from some students. “Today we are going to discuss….” and it was at this moment that I began to zone out, excitement for tonight cluttering my mind. It went on this way until I saw a hand snapping in my face. I shook my head, being awakened from my thoughts.

“(Y/N), girl, you were out for like the entire class. Did you even hear anything the professor said?” Jessica said, baffled.

“Honestly though Jessica,does it even matter? She’s going to get the best grade out of all of us on the test anyway” Amanda shot back.

“Okay, fair enough.” Jessica responded.

“Well now that class is over, do you guys want to go get some celebratory lunch?“

“Sorry girl I’ve got a test in like an hour, and I totally don’t know what I’m doing.”  Amanda said sheepishly.

“Sorry same goes for me, but I’ll definitely see you tonight I’m super excited!”

“I totally get that, don’t worry about it. Since it’s still light outside I think I’m going to head into the city for some lunch!”

Then with some hurried goodbyes and excited chatter about the night ahead of us, we were all off to our separate plans.

I decided to go to my favorite restaurant in town, local Korean joint run by some lovely Korean natives. It was not too far from campus, so I decided to walk there. Even though it was the middle the day, there were still people on the streets that normally would belong in the dark shadows of the night. So, I kept my head down and my mace in my hand.

I finally arrived at the restaurant, and cheerfully walked in to greet the owners who felt almost like family at this point. “Oh (Y/N) we’re so excited that you decided to come! Please come have a seat, do you want the usual?” The old woman who own the restaurant with her husband began to lead me back to the table that I almost always sat at.

“How could I ever get anything else? Spicy rice cakes are just too good to pass up! Although maybe I’ll have some bulgogi too?”

“Dear, what’s the occasion? Did you get paid today?”

“No, but it is a very special day!”

“Don’t tell me it’s your birthday?“ I nodded excitedly. “Well then of course it’s on the house today! Oh my are you really 18 already?”

“Yeah isn’t that crazy? It feels like only yesterday I was still starting high school, and now I’m already a freshman in college!”

“I’m so excited for you dear! Let me go get your food started so you can have a lovely birthday lunch!”

Just says she turned to leave, I heard the jingle of the bells hanging on the door. Then, a large group of boys who looked to be around my age walked in.

“Hello grandmother!“ One of them said. The woman looked back to them and I can almost see a twinge of fear in her eyes. She gave him a slight bow and replied, “Hello, young sirs,” In a fearful but respectful manner. She then looked back at me and I could see her hands shaking. “Be wary of those boys, young lady, they are not the kind of people you should become involved with.” She quickly hurried to the kitchen as if she was afraid of these teenage boys. With her words my curiosity awoke, and that’s where the problem began.

As soon as I not so subtly glanced over, My eyes met those of one of the supposedly dangerous boys. Immediately, I felt a flush burn across my cheeks. His eyes were dark, and filled with unanswered questions and rampant emotions, burning like a wildfire. Time stopped, and my vision was filled with nothing but his fiery stare. And then I saw his lips twitch into a smirk as if he knew the power that his eyes held over me. Then, I saw him breathe in deeply through his nose, as if he could smell my scent from across the room. His beautiful burning eyes fluttered closed almost as if in ecstasy.

After my momentary lapse in sanity, I gulped in a breath, as if I had forgotten how to breathe, and I tilted my head down, to let my hair act as a curtain from his brazen stare. I could hear a faint chuckle from across the room, as if he found my sudden shyness amusing. I bristled at the thought of being a source for his amusement, but my desperation for a good birthday lunch overpowered my need to speak up. Soon after I heard the owner come out of the kitchen, bringing me some potstickers for an appetizer.

“Here you are dear. Just a little something to take care of your hunger before the meal comes out. I should’ve known that it was your birthday with how lovely you look today!”

Just then the table of boys called her over, ready to order. They went around the table all ordering copious amounts of different food, I didn’t even recognize some of them. When she got to fire eyes, he simply looked over to me, I could feel his eyes burning into me, and said “I’ll have whatever princess is having.”

The moment those words came out of his mouth, my head shot up, and I audibly gasped. This boy, very attractive boy, who I had never spoken to, and made brief but very intimate eye contact with, had called me princess? He smiled over at me, a full beautiful smile that lit up his entire face as well as the space surrounding him. It was just then that I took in his other features, all equally as attractive as his eyes. His sharp nose, high cheekbones, and full lips all drew me in like a magnet.

The only issue at the moment was the fact that he thought it was acceptable to call me princess. We had not spoken a single word to each other, but he felt entitled enough to give me a pet name like that. I resented the fact that guys thought that calling a woman “babygirl” or “princess” would make them instantaneously fall into bed. I scoffed at the thought and furiously got up to go to the bathroom, and pray that when I came back out, this man who made my heart flutter and pound would be a part of my imagination.

As I stomped off, I could hear his friends begin to laugh at him, and his failed attempt to hit on me, in all honesty, though, I probably would run straight into his arms if he smiled again. He made me feel strangely alive as if all my feelings were more potent and all my senses more powerful. I went to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. There was a flush on my face that not even my makeup could hide. I found my face and took a few deep breaths, hoping to calm my frazzled nerves and fluttering heart.

After a few minutes of trying to even out my breaths, I finally decided to face the embarrassing situation that was awaiting me. With one final deep breath, I made my way out to my table and sat down in a different seat from before, facing away from the mysterious boy. When I sat down, I could hear murmurs coming from the boisterous group of boys.

Soon after, the owner brought out my food, and I could tell she had brought out far more than just the dishes I ordered. “Oh, you shouldn’t have, there’s no way that I’ll be able to eat all this delicious food!”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, dear, we will just pack up the extras for you so you have some good food for later!”

“You are too kind to me!”

“I don’t get to see your sunshine smile very often, and it always cheers me up when I do!”

“Thank you so much!”

“You are very welcome, and dear? And I meant what I said about those boys earlier,” she said in a whispered voice. “They are dangerous.”

“I believe you, and I don’t plan on letting that one get anywhere near me,” I replied, nodding my head towards fire eyes. However much he made my heart flutter, I would not so easily get caught in the trap of a playboy like that, he would surely break my heart.

After making that comment, I heard something from across the room that almost resembled the growl of a wild animal. I shot straight out of my seat, scanning the room frantically, looking for the source of the sound. However, I was shocked when no one else in the room seemed alarmed.

I looked over the owner, ”Did you hear that? What was that noise? It sounded like a puppy.” As soon as those words came out of my mouth the entire table of boys began to laugh hysterically, all but fire eyes.

“I think it was just the heater or something, dear, you know, this building is quite old. Even after she said this, I was still skeptical, the sound was something far less mechanical and more primal than some old appliance.

Still, I sat back down, and began to taste all the foods the owner had set out before me. She very obviously knew my tastes, as all the dishes were relatively spicy and very delicious. Soon after, I saw the owner come out bringing a tray full of dishes and then going back to get another two, for the table of boys.

While I was eating, I could feel a weight on my back, as if someone was staring at me intently. I had a feeling it was “princess” boy who was doing the staring, however, I did not want to glance back, with the chance our eyes would meet again. I hurriedly ate my meal, to escape the uncomfortable tension in the restaurant.

“Oh ma’am would you mind giving me some to go boxes and the check as well?“ I glanced down at my watch, “I have a class coming up soon I’m so sorry.” In reality, my class wasn’t really for another two hours, but I still felt the stares of the boys across the room, and made my spine tingle uncomfortably.

“Of course dear!” She then grabbed my plates and took them back to be packed. I felt so vulnerable with the feeling of many eyes on me, so I curled my body in on itself for protection. I tapped my feet on the ground, every second feeling like hours. I had always been a relatively introverted person, so the feeling of so many pairs of eyes on me made my skin crawl.

Just then, I heard the sound of a chair scraping across the floor, somehow I could sense someone approaching me from behind. When they slid into the seat across from me, I was surprised to see that the boy sitting across from me was not fire eyes, but one of his friends. He had red hair and a cute little smile that made him appear good-natured. “Hi there! I’m Kevin.”

I looked at him for a moment, wondering if he was going to continue, perhaps with the reason that he came to talk to me, but after a few moments of silence, I responded with “Hi! I’m (Y/N). How are you?”

“I’m good.” He winked at me, then proceeded to lean across the table and put his lips close to my ear. I immediately flinched back, but when I heard him begin to whisper, I was too curious to pull away. “I’m sure you’ve noticed, but my friend over there is pretty interested in you, but he’s too much of a scaredy-cat to act on it, so I thought I’d give him motivation.”

I let out a giggle, amused by the thoughts, ideas, and maturity level of teenage boys. I never could quite understand how their brains work. I then leaned in closer to him and with my lips close to his ear, I said, “And why should I help you with that?” He leaned back and let out a full bodied laugh, that made his eyes scrunch up with happiness. He then leaned in closer, his eyes peering into mine as he said, “You’re too cute.”

Right after the words left his mouth I could see his eyes flicker up to the space over my shoulder as his mouth curled into a smirk. I felt a hand wrap around the wrist of my hand that was propping up my chin. All of a sudden my body felt warm, the warmth beginning at my wrist and then moving through my whole body. I looked up and was staring into the burning eyes of the boy who had me so flustered. Before I could utter a word to him, I was being yanked out of my seat and onto my feet.

He pulled me through the restaurant and out the door, and over into a little alley next to the restaurant. As soon as he let go of my wrist to take his fingers through his hair in a frustrated manner, I took off back towards the restaurant, hoping that if I could make it back, he would have to leave me alone. I didn’t make it but a couple feet before I felt his hand on my wrist pulling my back.

“Please, just…” he let out a strangled breath, “please, just wait a minute so I can calm down, please.” His deep voice washed over me in waves, and subconsciously I felt the need to relieve him of the distress he was in. Without thinking, I brought my hand up to his face and placed my palm on his cheek. When he slightly nuzzled his face into my hand, I caressed my thumb over his cheekbone. I could hear his breathing begin to calm, and as he became less distraught, my head came down from the clouds.

I began to panic. I wondered if this guy I had just met would think I was easy, but even if he did, why should I care? I quickly retracted my hand from his face and in an uneasy voice, said, “Oh my lord, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to… well I mean I did but I don’t know why I did. You must think I’m so creepy, but wait, you’re the one who dragged me out here, so doesn’t that make you the creepy one? Maybe we’re just both weird. That’s probably it. Anyway, I’m going to get going on my merry way, it was nice… well nice being dragged by you. Bye!” I send him a little wave and briskly begin to walk away. Just then an arm reaches across the space in front of me and lands on the wall beside me, trapping me in.

I spun around, facing the mystery man with a puzzled look on my face.

“I’m sorry, do you need something?” I ask in a quizzical voice.

“Yeah,” he breathed out, and the beautiful raspy timbre of his voice finally hit me, full force, “I need you.”

I let out an awkward and forced laugh “Well, I’m sorry but I’ve been in awful high demand lately so I guess you’ll have to get on the waiting list,” I said in an overly sarcastic tone of voice.

“I mean it,” he said leaning in close to my face, “You can’t even begin to understand the depth of what I feel for you.”

“Yeah, I really couldn’t, due to the fact that I just met you!” I said, the volume of my voice increasing as I spoke. I was growing more and more uncomfortable by the second, uncomfortable because I didn’t know this boy who supposedly needed me, and uncomfortable because I somehow felt that I needed him too.

I raised my eyes and they immediately locked on his. I felt the walls around my heart weakening and that flood of vulnerability brought with it the pain of emotions. I knew from that moment, the course of my life had changed forever.

“I’m Juyeon.”

“(Y/N).”

[boku-no-imagine-this]

Lemon- Todoroki Shoto x reader

a/n: happy early valentines day! I was supposed to write something fluffy but I was feeling a little sentimental.

༶•┈┈┈✧┈✧┈✧┈┈┈•༶ = timeskip

The dual haired man opened his door, turning on the lights to his house. He removed his shoes and hung his coat. He proceeded to settle down in his home. Once he was finally in a comfortable state, he sat down, getting the stack of paperwork from his bag. He sighed at the amount of work to be done.

He was a Pro-Hero, one of the best at that,  going by the alias known by the nation, Shouto. Immediately after graduating from U.A he, along with most of his other  former classmates, went down the road of being pros, even as a pro, paperwork came along with it.

He was content with his job. Saving innocents and people from trouble, being a light to people made him have a purpose. However, everyday, he would always have a void kind of feeling in him.

His dual colored gaze made its way to the side of the table. A framed collage photograph stood there. It was a collaged photograph of two photos. One was him and his family, and the other, beside it, was a picture of the class 1-A on their last day of school as 1st years.

He looked over to where he was in the photo, his expression darkened after laying his eyes on the person right next to him.

A girl grinning. She had h/c hair and her e/c eyes were closed while she smiled.

He forgot how a picture like that would easily be on the back of his mind while when he looked at it, a wave of memories would flood in him. 

༶•┈┈┈✧┈✧┈✧┈┈┈•༶

“Todoroki”

The male turned around hearing the call of his name.

There you stood, everyone else had already left the classroom. He was surprised to see you standing there. “Do you need anything L/n?” he asked.

“Sorta? Well i’d just like to apologize” you said, looking the other way and scratching the back of your head.

He raised a brow. “Apologize? I don’t think you’ve anything wrong” he said.

“A few days ago, at the sports festival. I was passing through after my match. At the underpass i accidentally overheard you talking to Midoriya and…. Yeah” you chuckled, admitting.

“Oh. then, it’s alright” he said, about to walk away.

“Wait!” you yelled. He turned around again. This time you were looking at him, both of you facing one another.

“What?” he asked.

“I’d just like to say that i’m glad you’ve now accepted your other power. Your left side. I’m glad Midoriya was able to help you. He’s a really kind friend” You smiled.

“Thank you.” he nodded. “Is that all you have to say?” he asked.

“I want to be your friend”

His brows furrowed in confusion from that. “What?”

“I want to be someone you can talk to.” you said smiling awkwardly.

Todoroki was perplexed by your sudden proposal of friendship. He knew you were kind, in a certain way, and you seemed to have meant it. “Sure.” he agreed.

Your eyes beamed at his response. You bowed, thanking him.

He found you strange. The next day, you both started to talk to one another a lot. He learned things about you and you did about him. You both didn’t expect to get along so quickly in that matter of time, and yet, there you two were.

༶•┈┈┈✧┈✧┈✧┈┈┈•༶

༶•┈┈┈✧┈✧┈✧┈┈┈•༶

It was already your second year at U.A. you had new classmates and things were different yet still had the same aura. You were currently doing a group project, with Todoroki, Bakugou, and Hagakure. The four of you were sitting together in a table in the cafeteria, much to Bakugou’s dismay.

As the four of you were working on it, you started to space out. Todoroki called out to you. “Y/n”

“Huh? Sorry i was thinking about something else” you apologized.

“Tch. if you’re not even thinking about this, then dont be part of the group, shithead” Bakugou grumbled.

“What were you thinking about L/n? A boy?” Hagakure gushed. You shook your head. “I was just realizing that U.A has 8 “K”s.” You said.

“Huh?”

“Kusai (smelly), kitanai (dirty), kiken (dangerous), Kimyō (strange);  kekkou (rather), kanari (quite), kowai (scary), and uh, i forgot what the last one i was thinking about was” you said.

“Eh? Kusai and kitanai?” Hagakure said. “It’s a joke!” you said to her.

“You have a strange sense of humor, Y/n….” Todoroki said.

“I’m trying to think of the last ‘K’…. i kept listing down negative things but there’s something else.” you muttered, trying to think.

“Kuso (shit).” Bakugou grunted.

“Kawaii! (cute)” Hagakure suggested.

“Kirai (Hate)” Bakugou added.

“Bakugou’s right!” you beamed.

“What?”

“Well, half right. It’s Kirai Janai (i don’t hate it)” You smiled.

“Tch. such an airhead” Bakugou mumbled.

“Let’s get back to work, tomorrow’s work studies once again for this year” Todoroki said.

Little did he know, that stupid yet enlightening conversation would be one of the last.

Todoroki was in the streets of Musutafu, with the pro he was doing his work studies with. Suddenly the phone of the pro rang.

“Got it” Endeavor said and placed his phone down. “There’s been a villain attack in the northern part of the city, not too far, we’re called for backup.” he said. Todoroki nodded, following Endeavor as they both ran, the site that was attacked was a pro hero’s agency building.

They arrived at the scene to see a broken building with some parts shattered and on fire. Another pro hero explained that a group of villain had attacked. The fire went out and Todoroki as well as Endeavor and the other pros and police who were there captured the villains.

Todoroki scouted the building for survivors, he had helped out 3 employees in that building. When he helped out another, the male employee had panted and his eyes were widened. “A U.A student- the one that (Favorite Pro) works with- (Hero name)- she was fighting the villains, up there!” the employee shaked, pointing upstairs.

Todoroki’s eyes widened. “This is the ground floor.  Endeavor and (Favorite Pro) will come here with the police and tend to you. Please excuse me” he said and ran up.

He frantically looked around the area and spotted he colors of your hero costume, running to you.

You were lying on the ground, eyes shut peacefully. Your costume had a few burn marks and rips, several wounds on your body were visible. He carried your limp body and brought you out to the people who were helping.

You were put on the ambulance who rushed to the hospital. (Favorite Pro) and Endeavor insisted he came with you while they handled everything else.

You were sent to the emergency room, and the doctors did everything they could do. (Favorite Pro) and a few of your friends/classmates who were near the area for their work studies had also arrived.

“Companions of Y/n L/n?” a doctor said.

He and everyone else waiting by stood up. “How is she?” (Favorite Pro) asked.

The doctor sighed, biting his lower lip, and looking at him and everyone else with a serious expression.

“She didn’t make it”

༶•┈┈┈✧┈✧┈✧┈┈┈•༶

༶•┈┈┈✧┈✧┈✧┈┈┈•༶

At the first year of UA, you were walking to the dorms with Todoroki. “You should get more sleep, L/n. you won’t be able to focus on studies.” he frowned

“Yeah i know. Though, I’ve learned a lot when i was browsing the internet randomly.” You said, looking up at the sky.

This piped his interest, “it interested you a lot to the point that you stayed up until 1?” He inquired and you nodded.

“There are a lot of words in languages that can’t be directly translated. Like ‘Itadakimasu’ in english, there isn’t any direct meaning to it. oh ! my favorite ones are ‘mono no aware’ and ‘Sa-’ uh wait, ‘sa-u-da-de’” You said, trying not to butcher the last word.

“I know what ‘mono no aware’ is. However what’s ‘saudade’?” Todoroki asked.

“It’s portuguese! The internet said it’s melancholic longing or yearning.” you said, and Todoroki nodded. “It reminds me of the word ‘grief’” You added.

“That’s a strong word.” Todoroki commented.

“You know what else reminds me of grief? Lemons. Lemons are like humans. They have skin, flesh, and seeds. Skin and flesh are the same but seeds are like organs.” you went on a tangent.

“Strange, though how is a lemon related to grief, you ended up saying lemons are like humans,. If that’s because of the skin, flesh, and seeds, then all fruits are like humans” Todoroki said.

“Ah, but lemons have a bittersweet scent and taste. Grief is also bittersweet. Its bitter in the way that you feel suffering and sadness, yet its sweet because the person who you loose or the cause for your grief was your light, the sweetness comes from how when you learn how important they or it was to you. It’s also sweet because it makes you realize so much” you said.

“Thats a deep sentiment. L/n” he said.

“Well it's true if you think about it” you pouted.

“You’re right, i guess.”

༶•┈┈┈✧┈✧┈✧┈┈┈•༶

The young, dual haired man groaned as he got up from his bed. He got up and started to get ready for work.

He looked at the mirror as he was dressed in heis hero costume. It was fairly similar to the one he had back in UA however there were a few changes. As he was getting his bag from the desk, he took one last glance at the photograph.

He frowned a little. Why was it that his heart aches so much even though it’s been 2 years?

He still vividly remembered how devastated people around him were. Your classmates, family, friends, they all were shaken.

As of that time, it had been almost a year after they graduated from UA, roughly 2 years after you’ve died. It had been quite some time since he had finally stopped mourning, just like the others who lost you. However he was still hung up on you, particularly grief. The conversations you had initiated were always so peculiarly lucid, perhaps because most of them were so bizarre yet eloquent. Your sentiment of grief being bittersweet felt so out of reach, due to the bitter and heavy feeling tugging on him when he remembered you.

As he walked out of the door of him home, locking it, he shook his head, trying to clear his mind to prepare for the day. He sighed as the calm cold breeze, swept around the city, winter was ending soon, and spring was coming. The streets of Musutafu were busy due to the large amount of tourists coming for the season. It was rational. It was about to be one of the best time of the year, the temperature wasn’t the hottest and the scenery, even at the city, was nice.

He walked to his hero agency, doing his daily routine. Sitting on his desk, he sighed, his hand through his hair before looking at his work.

He was filled with grief, yet he knew it was his fault.

༶•┈┈┈✧┈✧┈✧┈┈┈•༶

Days at UA had its ups and downs. There were most definitely times of great peril and life changing times, however there were also those peaceful moments.

Todoroki savored those moments where it was just normal. He often either took that time to train, study, or simply rest with his mind at ease. He was walking down the hallway to the common room of the dorms, about to make his way to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He saw in the common room that you, along with some of the girls were happily chatting.

He saw how you were just in a shirt and shorts since it was a weekend. He noticed how you fidgeted with the couch pillow while you talked as he poured the glass of water.

Todoroki was no stranger to simple feelings, sure he isn’t as educated on modern and other things, but he knew full well that he had a crush on you. He thought of it as just a crush, something he would get over, so he just decided to act normal and let nothing change.

“Todoroki!”

He snapped out of his daze and looked at you, your face only a few centimeters away from his. His eyes widened slightly, he backed up a little, which lead you to baking away.

“Do you need anything L/n?” he asked. You shook your head. “Sorry. The girls were talking about the english test on monday, i don’t have notes. Momo and everyone else won’t give them to me because i’m ‘irresponsible’” You pouted, giving a glare towards the girls.

Todoroki sighed. “I only have notes about the main points. It’s easier to understand if you actually pay attention in class”

“Yeah, i do pay attention! But…. its harder to understand  if Present Mic speaks in a different language for 50 percent of the class time” you whined.

“I’ll give you my notes, i’ll go up and bring them here” he said, departing to get his notes

--

“...”

“...”

“Can you explain this?” You said, looking at the notes in utter confusion.

“I thought you only needed notes” he inquired.

“They’re all in english letters…”

“Sure” he agreed. Thanks! I’ll knock at your door after hanging out more with the girls” You hummed after walking away.

He stared at you, as you immediately started laughing and talking with the girls. How did someone have the audacity to even freak out about not studying for a quiz, and immediately go into girl talk mode. He would probably be irritated, however something about you was….. Cute.

He just knew he had to push those feelings aside, not in fear of possible unreciprocated feelings, but he felt as if he would hurt you.

༶•┈┈┈✧┈✧┈✧┈┈┈•༶

The strong tug on his heart was grief. Regret filled him, the feeling that he was able to acknowledge his feelings yet push them aside felt like a mistake. However the grief he had was overwhelming. It was painful beyond measure. It was the realization that he would never, ever, get the chance to face you, and get over his regret.

After signing a document, he checked his phone to see his schedule. The time read ‘15:48’

He had come back from patrolling just about 48 minutes ago. He checked his calendar app to see if there was anything to do.

Coincidentally, he saw an event set for 16:30. He stood up, putting on his coat and walking out of the room. He informed his assistant that he was going somewhere and taking a early leave.

He made his way to a designated area, looking at the small group of people gathered there. A woman with short, brown hair was the first one who noticed him. “Todoroki” sh called out to him, making everyone else turn to him.

The candles were already lit in front of the altar, as flowers and some of your items stood there. Midoriya, Kirishima, Bakugou, Yaoyorozu, and your other friends were already there as well. He had been informed by Uraraka that your parents left earlier.

Everyone wished that you were just somewhere out there, probably hiding from the villains, instead of passing away. However, that was just how the world works.

They talked a bit to catch up. Everyone had moved on already, but you were dear to them.

It was strange.

Here were your friends from years ago, some of them pro heroes, smiling and talking. He remembered how you were like a ball of light that even Bakugou smiled to.

Several people often smiled because of you. Yet without you they could easily still smile, well obviously. Grief was a sickening thing. At one point people are mourning them the next day, they’re just fine, however years later, they are broken.

He took a sip from the Bottled milk tea he bought from a 7-eleven and sighed. His grief stalked him everyday, some days worse than others. He knew it was his fault, he regret the fact that he didn’t confess or do something. He knew that you would probably just say it wasn’t his fault but the blame his mind just threw at him made it really hurt.

He fixed his posture and decides to do something. He walks away however a voice stops him.. “Todoroki, you’re leaving too? We were just talking about having diner to catch up” Yaoyorozu said as he looked over and saw her and his other former classmates walking away in a different direction.

“Sure, though I’m not leaving yet. I’m just getting something”

“Alright. We’ll meet up with you in a restaurant address I’ll text”

He walked back with a bouquet of flowers. They were several Tiny white flowers with yellow in the center. He walked back to your grave he placed the bouquet in front.

Lemon flowers were a strange gift to give someone on their deatbaniversary. Other flowers were often used but he felt that these were the way to go.

He squatted as he looked directly at your grave.

“It’s been a while….”

A silence filled the air.

“Everyone here still misses you, even if you’re in the back of their heads sometimes.”

He paused again.

“You were honorable that day, saving 12 people. You were a great hero. A hero that made people smile.”

“Me, smile.” He sighed as he got up.

“You were a great person Y/n. And I loved and still love and admire you for that.” He said.

He stayed there for a few more minutes, enjoying the peace and just relaxing. He finally decided it was time to go.

As he started his car, he checked the mirrors and saw his glossy eyes. He shut them tightly and opened them again, things seemed to have gotten brighter. He took one last glance at the memorial. 

A sweet scent filled the air around him as he was about to drive away. However the scent wasn’t from the lemon flowers by your grave.

Song basis: Lemon by Kenshi Yonezu

context-

Unnatural remains as one of my most favorite dramas ever (if i end up not taking music or writing for college then i'll settle for forensic pathology ;-;)  and Kenshi Yonezu is such an inspiration aside from Ito Kashitaro. This song just hits hard and I hope you all enjoyed it. The fanfic and song talk about grief and it’s ‘bittersweet’ lemon like scent, also death. It can be relatable to someone who has lost someone in their lives and if they’re probably struck about it. Honestly for me, I haven’t lost anyone that important to me to death yet, however what makes it so sentimental to me is that it shows how important people  in people in your life actually are. I’m the type of person who normally has a few people I don’t like or I naturally just don’t like some people who i’m Supposed to like however the songs shows that “oh hey, if they die, you’ll be affected as well, whether deeply or not”. (i tend to have my own opinions of people irl ;-;)

 I just wanted to share this since I’m an emotional mess it’s Valentine’s Day and you can show the people in your lives if you are about them if you want to.

ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴠᴀʟᴇɴᴛɪɴᴇs ᴅᴀʏ

[claws-and-wit]

There's something so unnervingly bitter sweet about looking at my camera roll's "one year ago today" feature, with tomorrow being the "anniversary" of when I travelled to Munich.

I didn't know it then, a year ago today, that that would be the final place I visited. I could sense that things were getting dire and there was a chance my location would go remote. I even made a tongue-in-cheek Instagram post about covid cough on the train. But there's something so sad about it being my final weekend abroad, and I didn't spend it in Prague. I don't know if I'll ever stop mourning what could've been. Next Saturday is the one year anniversary of my return to the States. A year into this global pandemic and the end is finally coming into sight—but it's still months away. I cannot even begin to process that it's already been a year, and I wonder if I will ever be able to process the grief this past year has brought me.

On March 5th I went to Munich, with plans to visit London, Amsterdam, Vienna, and a field trip to Karlštejn in the coming weeks. On March 8th I returned home, we would have remote class sessions moving forward. On March 10th I went shopping and bought a few dresses: one for an opera I would never attend and two others for a spring break in Greece that would not come to pass. I took a photo of a building I thought was pretty because I had the feeling I might not get the chance to do so again. That night, I was reassured that despite the closing of our campus, our dorms would stay open. On the 11th, I went out to dinner at my new favorite restaurant.

at three in the morning local time I learned Trump had given a speech— travel from Europe to the US would be henceforth halted. Three hours later my best friend was getting into a taxi headed to the airport, the sunrise was beautiful and I was heartbroken. I fell asleep and woke up around 3 pm. The dorm was in chaos— RA's were knocking door to door taking a survey: are you returning home? I told them no. My dad is high risk, I want to stay as long as possible. They came back a few hours later: are you sure? my response: Yes. An hour later: I'm sorry but you'll need to leave, please go to campus and they'll arrange you the next available flight home. It's 5 pm now and I need to get there before 6.

On the way there I take photos and videos of my every day life I had neglected to record: the long escalator into the subway, the announcement of the closing doors, the tunnel that gave me a shortcut to campus (as long as a the door was open), The exterior of the NYU buildings. I had just purchased a transit pass to last me the rest of the semester a few weeks prior, this is the last time I'll use it. All said and done, in less than 3 hours I had gone from "I'll stay as long as I can" to "my flight leaves for the US in fourteen hours." I make it out in time to record a video of the Astronomical Clock striking the hour, a video I hadn't thought to take yet. A friend invites me to watch the sunset with them— I inform them I won't be able to make it before dark, they invite me to dinner/a farewell party in their dorm. I accept. Instead of taking the metro straight home, I spend the last of my crowns on souvenirs and finish walking my normal path to the Tescos and buy some snacks and candy. I buy beer that I won't be able to legally drink back home for three more months, I buy a kinder egg that I forget is contraband. I take the tram home, this time it's empty and I get a seat. I nearly forget to record my stop announcement. A half hour walk later and I arrive in an area of Prague I hadn't had the chance to explore. I climb the ten flights to the shared kitchen common space. On a long table are the remnants of everyone's perishable foods. At some point a raspberry is squished onto my coat. Someone passes around a pint of beer and the last of their vermouth— the RA looks the other way. We pose for a photo wearing masks left over from the H1N1 epidemic a decade prior, the masks are expired but I still grab a few— just in case. We chat and laugh and play Jackbox games until 1 in the morning and I suddenly realize I hadn't spent any time with my classmates outside of lessons. I had intended to make friends and now it was too late. At some point, I walk home, alone. I still hadn't gotten the chance to pack and clean up my room. It takes me the remaining three hours but I finally get most of my possessions into my suitcase. I say goodbye to the sweatpants I bought when I was 16 and most of my jeans— I couldn't fit them and my new clothes and souvenirs both in the luggage.

At five am I wait outside for my taxi... it doesn't come. I call an Uber and make it to the airport on time. He drops me off at the wrong gate. The line for checkin is long. At 8 am I board a flight for Vienna, the friend who invited me to the get-together is on the same flight. I notice the plane has propellers on the engine. I take a photo. It's cloudy and I'm on the aisle so I don't get to see Prague as we depart. I finally get to rest. I only have an hour layover between flights and the plane taxis for a half hour. I sprint to the gate and make it in time to board the jet home. The man at the customs counter had stamped my visa. I briefly note to myself that my stay was so short I wouldn't have needed that visa. My friend's flight is headed to Chicago. Mine is to New Jersey. We split up and I'm suddenly flying on my own for the first time in my life. The plane takes off and I have a beer with my breakfast. The man in front of me orders a glass of red wine. He has three more throughout the flight. The baby in the row next to me starts crying. I have another beer. When the plane lands in New Jersey I learn the final leg of my journey home to Vermont is delayed. It's too windy for the small planes to land and they're only allowing a few at a time. I have wait an additional two hours in the airport. The Auntie Anne's pretzels give me a stomach ache. I try to take a nap but I'm afraid I'll miss my boarding call. My phone is dying. We board at 8. My dad is there to pick me up at the gate when we land just after 9. Then there's an hour drive back home, I almost ask if we could get chipotle— the only one in the state is 10 minutes from the airport. I forget to ask. By the time I arrive home and lug my stuff up the stairs it's 10 pm. I had been traveling for 20 hours. In just 48 hours I had gone from watching Shrek on Netflix with my best friend during an exciting semester abroad to sleeping on the couch in Vermont.

8 days later and I'm in the ER with a high fever and intense stomach pain. My mom fears it might be a kidney or liver issue, and calls the hospital. They tell me to stay home. She tells them I could be dying, and brings me anyway. they tell me it's just a digestion issue and give me a glass of water. Indigestion is apparently a symptom of the new virus. They ask if I have a cough, I tell them I had coughed the day before, once, but it was probably from my smoky environment. They "diagnose" me with covid. I'm denied a test, there's not enough to go around to be testing otherwise healthy people like me. "Call your GP if your symptoms worsen"; if I'm actively dying I can get a test. My symptoms do worsen. I fear for my family's safety. For a week I wonder if I'll stop breathing during my sleep. It winds me to walk from the bedroom to the bathroom. When I lay on my back my lungs make a rattling noise. Each exhale i make is accompanied with a small wheeze. I don't call my GP. I get better. And now it's a year later.

I still struggle with stairs and brisk walks. I can't tell if it's from wearing the mask or the extra weight I gained or irreparable damage to my lungs. If I pay close attention sometimes I notice my lungs feel weird when taking a deep breath. I'm eligible for a vaccine now, but getting it will prove easier said than done. They say people who already had it only need one dose. Did I have it though? I wasn't given a test. Graduation is cancelled.

[sending-the-message]

My Wife Thinks I Sleepwalk (Part 15) by TuckandRoll91

To: Ms. Claire Sullivan,

If you’re reading this you’ve decided to become Mrs. Claire Dempsey. I also need to tell you something about my son, David.

He has what he called a ‘condition’ when he described it to me. He’s been hiding it from nearly everyone since he was a boy. His father was the only one he ever talked to about it, because, apparently his Uncle David had the same condition. He doesn’t sleepwalk Claire, he slips backwards in time.

I knew something was off, but ultimately, I let him and his father have their secrets. I knew David was terribly afraid, I just didn’t know of what, until he came back to tell me. I am certain I have seen him before, in my library, sitting and pretending to read. But today, I approached him, called him by his name, and I met my son, ten years older than he should have been. We sat and we talked. He told me about school. (I am very proud of you both, by the way, I never dreamed my son and Daughter-in-law would attend [redacted] University.) He told me about your friend, Addison, whom he had grown to love as dearly as you did. I know the loss is still fresh to you, but if I may offer a small piece of advice, for both of you: There is no finish line to mourning a loved one and no expiration date on grief. Both of you need to take your time, sit down, and well, just hurt. Then you both, need to stand up together and continue living your lives, your life together. Honor your friend’s memory, but live for you, Claire.

Then I asked him about you. The way his face lit up. Those grey eyes, so much like his father’s, I saw the light shine through when he talked about you, Claire. (I’m sure you know the look, like sunshine through a stormcloud.) I could tell he was truly happy, and it was all I could do to not cry. You see, for the past three years, since he first slipped back in time, He has become ‘The Boy that Doesn’t Smile.’ To his teachers and classmates, and though it breaks my heart to admit it, to me. I wondered if I would ever see my happy, content boy again. You gave that to me, Claire, and for that, though you’re just a twelve-year-old girl living on the other side of the country right now, I love you.

David told me one other thing, as well, Claire, and it’s is the reason I’m writing you this letter. I’m sure he’s told you that I die in a car accident.

David keeps things to himself, especially things that frighten or hurt him. He doesn’t do this because he doesn’t want to seem scared, or weak. He assumes things that frighten him, and hurt him, will do the same to them.

What I’m sure he hasn’t told you is this: He is in the car with me when it happens. He is, was there, Claire. As frightening as the concept of my own death is, I can’t imagine what that will do to David. But I’ve made my choice, and like David, I have chosen you, Claire. We are not static beings, and the events of his childhood turned him into the man you love, then I cannot, will not alter them. After all, you did give me his smile back.

A boy needs his mother until he’s a good man. He needs a good wife to keep him that way. That’s what I need you to do for him, Claire, be a good wife, so my son will continue to be a good man.

Please, don’t be angry with him for keeping these things from you. He thought he was protecting you, and he admitted being a bit fearful that you would reject him if you knew. He also told me how guilty he felt every time he had to mislead or lie to you. He loves you as fiercely as his father loves me, know that. If you will have him he will stay by your side until the end of time.

With all my love, Audrey Dempsey.

One other thing, I need you to ask David something for me.

Who hung the moon?

Claire was tearing up when she finished reading. “Is this true? David, this isn’t a joke, is it?”

Dad opened his mouth to repair the lie, when I shot him a look. He stayed quiet.

“It’s true, Claire.” I said, without ever reading the letter. “All of it.”

Her face screwed up in anger, and she slapped me, hard, across the face. I was stunned, even though I deserved it.

Then she threw her arms around, Mom’s letter still in her hand, and whispered harshly, in my ear. “You never get to lie to me, again!”

This is it. I thought, she’s leaving. I felt the weight settling down on me again, the loneliness, the fear, the isolation.

Then she kissed me. “You don’t have to do it alone, David.” She sounded like she was pleading with me, “I won’t let you.”

I blinked at her, “What? You’re.. staying?”

She looked like she was ready to slap me again for even thinking she was going to leave. “Not going anywhere.” Some of the anger left her expression. Then she looked at the letter again. “I’m supposed to ask you: Who hung the moon?”

I laughed, as Dad sank down into a chair. “You did, Claire. Just for me.”

She smiled at me, the ready-made for mischief sort, “There is a story for that, isn’t there?” She pulled me against her again. “Plan on telling me.” She commanded, “Plan on telling me everything.”

Then she handed me the letter. I read it, and said. “She left some things out.”

I told her. I told her everything. Starting with the game Mom and I played when I was a boy. Then I told her about the timeslips, our daughter, the other time traveler. Everything.

“So, wait?” She asked when I was finished. “That first night, when we kissed. That was you, from a few days ago?” I nodded, “And the week after, you had no idea who I was when I came up to you at that party?”

“Guilty.” I was bracing for her to get angry again.

“You had no idea who I was, and you just let me throw myself at you?” She smirked at me.

“In my defense, you are really hot.” I grinned at her.

“Makes sense now.” She said, a little wistful. “The first half of that first night, I honestly thought you were into Addi, the way you were staring at her. That must have been terrible for you, seeing her like that, so soon after..” She met my eyes, smiling, “Then you kissed me, and I knew. I knew I would be with you forever.” She was quiet for a second, and she laughed, “You son of a bitch. I think I may have fallen in love with you, because you were already in love with me.” She leaned forward put her hand on my knee “How often did you use future-you as a wingman?” She demanded.

I opened my mouth, obviously on the spot.

She aimed a finger at me, “No more lies.”

“Never,” I said. She gave me a disbelieving eye, “It’s not like I can plan these things. I don’t know how to control it. And when I went back to that day, well, things just kind of work out, I guess. Because from the day I met you, I knew, too.”

She thought about it for a second, and declared, “This is going to make my head hurt.”

It never did for me, I guess my brain, and mind are more adapted for the concept of experiencing time in a non-linear fashion. “Most people, well, all people, that aren’t like me, think of time as a straight line. I think it’s more of a loop, a series of loops, really. I tried to change the past, with my Mom. I tried to warn her. Only to find out I already had, and she made plans for her own death. Including that letter.”

She was giving me that concerned over reassuring look, “You say that like it doesn’t upset you, very much.”

“It doesn’t, not like it used to.” I told her, finally realizing why some of the weight of my mother’s death had lifted. “I know I tried. I know I did everything I could.” I stopped, as Claire took my hands, I was looking at my shoes, and said, remembering, hearing Mom’s voice. “If something is supposed to happen, it will. That’s what she always told me.”

Claire was smiling at me when I looked up. “She was right, you know.” Then she shook her head, like she had water in her ears. “And we have a daughter?”

I nodded, unable to stop the smile spreading across my face. “Claire, she’s amazing.”

“What’s her name?”

The door swung open. “I’m not allowed to tell.” Claire snapped around and stood up. My--our-- Red haired Angel was standing in the doorway, with my Dad. “Hi, Mom.”

Claire went white, and her knees buckled.

“Dad, Catch her!” My baby shouted an unnecessary instruction as I was already out of my chair and had Claire around the waist.

“Wha—Who—You’re..?” Claire was on the edge of hyperventilating, then took a deep breath. “You look just like my mom!”

“Nana says I look like you.” She smiled at her mother.

Claire took two tentative steps forward, and touched her cheek. “Definitely David’s eyes though.” Claire, was just staring, in what seemed to be shock, when she said, “I know you. I’ve seen you before.”

Our Daughter nodded.

“When I got caught in the rip, when I was nine. You were the lifeguard that brought me in.”

“Who do you think taught me to swim, Mom?” She looked on the edge of tears.

“That party, freshman year.” Claire looked at me, “I’m ninety percent certain I got roofied,” Then back at our daughter. “You took me home before anything...”

She nodded.

“Who?” I demanded, that monstrous rage hatching in my heart.

“I took care of it, Dad.” The look in her eyes told me she didn’t sit the bastard down and have a talk with him about respecting women. “I need to talk to Mom, for a minute, alone.”

Dad and I took that as our queue to leave. As I closed the door, I recalled a story about a senior guy being found, naked, with both arms broken, a fractured jaw, and a severe concussion, just outside The Bubble. I remembered thinking the poor guy had probably gotten drunk and mouthy at one of the bars on the edge of The Bubble, then been taught a lesson in manners by the locals.

Well, she’s got the Dempsey temper. I thought, then remembered the stinging handprint on my face and some of the Sullivan, too. I had seen her fight. I knew she was skilled enough to do serious damage if needs be. I was, however, worried she may be growing a sadistic streak. I decided to have a talk with her about controlling that temper, versus letting it control her. But, I couldn’t feel anything other than pity for that dipshit.

“I’m the shortest person in this family.” Claire said with a huff as she came out of Dad’s office, glaring between Dad and I “I’m five-eight, I’m not short, dammit!”

“Well, maybe.” I grinned, “To other short people.”

“She gets that from you, too!” She aimed her finger at me, in a playful pantomime of actual anger. “Bunch of damned smartass giants. Is that what I’m marrying into?”

Our Daughter followed her out, grinning. This was the first time I’d seen them side by side. She was a couple inches taller than Claire. “That’s not what you’re upset about.”

I raised my eyebrows in a silent question.

“She can’t come see me, the way she sees you.” Claire almost pouted.

“I took a huge risk coming here this time.” I looked at her, growing more concerned. “Look, I can’t tell you when my birthday is, my name, or any of that. Because, to me, my birthday, and my name have always been the same.” She sighed, then cringed. “But if you guys get hammered, and well, forget something, or if Mom misses a pill, or even if I wind up being that point zero zero one percent with the asterisk by it in every birth control ad, all of that could change.” She finished, with a huff. “My point is, I could be in there,” She pointed at Claire’s stomach, “Without you guys even knowing it, and to me, that seems like a really stupid way to die.”

Dad looked visibly uncomfortable, I said, “Wait, seeing our pregnant mother would be like seeing ourselves? Poof, never existed?”

“Well, I don’t know, and I really don’t want to be that guinea pig.” Our Daughter answered, “But the logic tracks.” Then she added, “And I don’t even want to think of physical and emotional damage something like that would do to you, Mom.”

Claire offered her a sad, but resigned, smile. “What about those other times?"

“You mean before you met Dad?” She answered. “Mom, I’ve seen you exactly twice since you and Dad have been, well,” She shuddered, “Fucking.”

Claire’s eyes bulged out, “Watch your mouth!” Then she caught herself, “Was that my Mom voice?”

Dad coughed and went to go find something to do, somewhere else. Me? I almost fell over laughing.

“It was pretty close,” Our daughter cackled at her mother, then she collected herself, “Look, I would love to just pop in and visit this you, the way I can with Dad, I really would.” She crossed the room and hugged Claire, “But it’s too dangerous, for all of us. At least, until I’m…you know, born.”

“I know,” Claire reassured her, then grumped, “I still don’t like that you’re taller than me.”

“You don’t like it?” She replied, “I’ve never been able to wear heels on a date.”

She said her goodbyes to Claire, then pulled me aside, wiping a stray tear or two from her eyes. “It really sucks, you know.” She said to me out on the porch. “I wish I could have met that version of her sooner, and gotten to know her, before, well, before she was my Mom.” She frogged me on the arm, “You and your ‘preserve our histories’ edict.”

I put my arm around her, and pulled her close, “I guess I have my reasons.” I answered.

“Yeah, but damn, Dad, seeing her up close. You did good. I mean she’s still really attractive for a woman her age when I'm from, but she is a total dimepiece, now!”

I gave her a look, “A what now?”

She appeared confused, “Isn’t that what you call, a..really, uh, hot girl back, well…now?”

“Nobody says that.”

“The Internet lied to me.” She mused.

“About a great many things, I suspect.” I grinned at her.

“Doesn’t change the fact that she’s gorgeous.” She pulled away and leaned back on the railing. “And I’m not just saying that because,” She affected a little girl voice, “My Mommy is the prettiest lady in the world.” The she stood up, and twirled, “Thanks for that, by the way, good genes.”

I laughed, then turned serious. “You’re not going to distract me, you know.”

Her shoulders slumped, like a teenager caught with a six pack of cheap beer. “I know, I know, I broke the rules. But it’s not like he didn’t have it coming.”

“Angel—”

“He roofied my mother!” She growled. “So yeah, I made sure he couldn’t do it anyone else.”

“She was already safe, unharmed, after you took her home.” I explained, as calmly as I could. “It was entirely unnecessary, and incredibly risky.”

“You hear about what happened after?” She snapped, defensively.

I cocked my head in a silent question.

“He was unconscious for two days after they found him.” She told me, “They ran his prints, DNA, trying to figure out who he was.” She growled, “They did.” She took a deep breath, “He was a goddamned serial rapist. Nine girls, Mom was almost the tenth, got justice because—”

“You lost your temper?”

“Because I did something!” She whispered harshly, “Who knows how many girls he would have done that to, if I’d just taken Mom back to her dorm, and left?”

“Sweetheart, I understand why you did it, and I honestly can’t say I wouldn’t have if it had been me.” I explained, “But you have to be more careful. We can’t afford any more attention than we already have.” I shrugged, “Look, I know you don’t take your marching orders from me, But I am your Dad, just not yet, I do worry about you.”

She seemed to relax a bit, “I know, Daddy. I’ll try to be more careful.” Then she hugged me, “Love you.”

“Love you, Baby.” I said, knowing what she was trying to do, and wondering what it was that she hadn’t said.

That evening, after our daughter left, I opened up my laptop, while Claire was getting ready for bed. I ran a couple quick searches, and found the news reports regarding that case. She was right, he was a serial rapist. According to the reports, none of the victims had a thing in common, dissimilar appearances, some local, some from all over the country, every different income and social level imaginable.

Then I came across a headline: Former [redacted] University student convicted on all charges.

Then I saw his mugshot. The air went out of the room, as I sucked in a breath.

The Man with The Ice Blue Eyes, some twenty years younger, was staring back at me. Jeremiah Hawthorne, the mugshot was captioned.

Part One: http://ift.tt/2uAVaOL

Part Two: http://ift.tt/2uWNQQd

Part Three: http://ift.tt/2tIazeU

Part Four: http://ift.tt/2w8aIcc

Part Five: http://ift.tt/2tPzJZ3

Part Six: http://ift.tt/2wgzgjg

Part Seven: http://ift.tt/2hqbgHQ

Part Eight: http://ift.tt/2hsjK1g

Part Nine: http://ift.tt/2utwFRJ

Part Ten: http://ift.tt/2veAuhp

Part Eleven: http://ift.tt/2wKu87f

Part 12: http://ift.tt/2w2g7pg

Part 13: http://ift.tt/2v6fSom

Part 14: http://ift.tt/2v6fwy3

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[words4dreams]

A VERY TOUCHING STORY THAT WOULD REALLY MAKE YOU CRY

A Very Touching Story that would really Make you Cry. Somewhere in Milaor, Camarines Sur, there lived a fourth grader boy who would follow this route to school everyday: He has to cross the rugged plains and cross the dangerous highway where vehicles are recklessly driving to and from. Once past this highway, the boy would take a shortcut, passing by the Church every morning just to say Hi to God, and faithfully say his, “Good Morning”. He was faithfully being watched by a Priest who was happy to find innocence so uplifting in the morning, “How are you, Andoy? Are you going to school?” “Yes Father.”he would flash his innocent grin, the priest would be touched. He was so concerned that one day he talked to Andoy. “From school”, he advised “Do not cross the highway, you can pass through the Church and I can accompany you to the other side of the road that way I can see that you are home safe” “Thank you father” “Why don’t you go home why do you stay in this church right after school?” “I just want to say ‘Hi’ to my friend, God,” and the priest would leave the boy to spend time beside the altar, talking to himself, but the priest was hiding behind the altar to listen to what this boy has to say to his heavenly FATHER. “You know my math exam was pretty bad today, but I did not cheat although my seatmate is bullying me for notes. I ate one cracker and drank my water, Itay had a bad season and all I can eat is this cracker. Thank you for this! I saw a poor kitten who was hungry and I know how he feels so I gave my last cracker to him. funny but I am not that hungry. Look, this is my last pair of slippers I may have to walk barefoot next week, you see this is about to be broken but it is okay at least I am still going to school…. Some say we will have a hard season this month, some of my classmates have already stopped going to school please help them get to school again, please God? Oh, you know, Inay hit me again, it is painful, but I know this pain will pass away, at least I still have a mother God, you want to see my bruises? I know you can heal them Here here and oh blood I guess you knew about this one huh? Please don’t be mad at Inay, she is just tired and she worries for the food in our table and my schooling that is why she hits us Oh, I think I am in love there’s this pretty girl in my class, her name is Anita do you think she will like me? Anyway, at least I know you will always like me, I don’t have to be anybody just to please you, you are my very best friend! Hey your birthday is two days from now!!! Aren’t you excited? I am! Wait till you see, I have a gift for you . but it is a surprise! I hope you will like it! Oooops, I have to go” then he stood up and calls out, “Padre, padre, I am finished talking to my friend you can accompany me to the other side of the road now” This routine happens everyday. Andoy never fails. Father Agaton shares this every Sunday to the people in his church because he has not seen a very pure faith and trust in God, a very positive look at negative situations. One Christmas day, Father Agaton was sick so he could not make it in the Church, he was sent to the hospital. The Church was left to 4 manang’s who would chant the rosary in 1000 miles per hour, would not smile and would always find fault in what you do, they were also very well versed in cursing if you irritate them! They were kneeling, saying their kilometric rosary when Andoy, coming from his Christmas party,playfully dashed in. “Hello God! I ..” “P–!! (a curse)cant you see?i’m praying!! Poor Andoy was so terrified, “Where’s Father Agaton? He is supposed to help me cross the street and to be able to cross the street I will have to pass by the back door of this church not only that, I have to greet Jesus. It is His birthday, I have a gift right here” Just as he was about to get the gift out of his shirt, the manang pulled his shirt and threw him out of the church. “Susmaryosep!!! (does the sign of the cross fervently) Get out Kid. You’ll be hit bu running cars. So the boy had no choice but to cross the dangerous side of the road in front of the church. He crossed. A fast moving bus came in. There was a blind curve. The boy was protecting his gift inside his shirt, so he was not looking. There was so little time. Andoy died on the spot. A lot of people crowded the poor boy, the body of a lifeless young boy Suddenly, out of nowhere a tall man in a pure white shirt and pants, a face so mild and gentle, but with eyes full of tears He came and carried the boy in His arms. He was crying. Curious bystanders nudged the man in white, and asked, “Excuse me sir, are you related to this child? Do you know this child?” The man in white, His face mourning and in agony, looked up and answered, “He was my best friend. ” was all he said. He took the badly wrapped gift in the bloody chest of the lifeless boy, and placed it near His heart. He stood up and carried the boy away and they both disappeared in sight. The crowd was curious On Christmas Eve, Father Agaton learned of the shocking news. He visited the house, and wanted to verify about the man in white. He consulted the parents of Andoy. “How did you know that your son died?” “A man in white brought him here.” sobbed the mother. “What did he say?” The father answered, “He did not say anything. He was mourning. We do not know him and yet he was very lonely about our son’s death, as if he knew our son very well. But there was something peaceful and unexplainable about him. He gave me my son, and then he smiled peacefully. He brushed my son’s hair away from his face and kissed him on his forehead, then he whispered something” “What did he say?” “He said to my boy” the father began, “Thank you for the gift I will see you soon you will be with me” and the father of the boy continued, “and you know for a while, it felt so wonderful I cried, but I do not know why all I know is I cried tears of joy I could not explain it, Father, but when that man left, something peaceful came over me, I felt a deep sense of love inside I could not explain the joy in my heart, I knew my boy is in heaven now but tell me, Father, who is this man that my son talks to everyday in your church, you should know because you are always there except at the time of his death “Father Agaton suddenly felt the tears welling in his eyes, with trembling knees, he murmured, “He was talking to no one but .. GOD” If you love this story, please LIKE and SHARE this on to your friends. So you can touch others too.GOD BLESS!

[dalhousiediaries]

A Suicidal Rant.

♪ Currently listening to: Playlist: Café montréalais by Spotify ♪ 📚 Currently reading: A Tale for the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki 📚 

Writing about suicide has never come easy for me.  

Or maybe it has, since every time I sit myself down to write about something, that’s the first thing that comes to mind.  Perhaps I’m fascinated with death and the idea of the paradoxical “life-after-death” belief so many people possess.  But, who hasn’t thought about death once in their lifetime?  I’m no exception.

I’ve been really thinking about this topic, whether to post it up on this blog (dalhousiediaries) or whether to start up a new blog entirely, a new personal blog to post content with topics like this, whenever I feel the urge to write about something philosophical or I guess, whenever I feel the powerful urge to write the deep thoughts that linger in my mind.  The unspeakable content that rests only in the deepest and untampered portions of my brain.

Personally speaking, as a child I never really thought about the afterlife, or what would happen to me after death.  It seemed so laid out to me, almost mechanical.  People would mourn, a funeral would be held, a celebration of life that has passed, and then I guess, people would get over the fact that I was no longer breathing on this planet, in this world, living in this time. However, as I grew older, that changed.  Not the actual process aforementioned, but the sociological and the emotional process of “getting over someone”.  I say this because I’ve felt this firsthand.  

Living in Halifax, being separated from my family and friends back home was basically like dying socially.  I was no longer present to take part in hangouts, physically be there to make new memories and the only way people could interact with me was through the Internet.  You’d think a lot of people would contact me and at least, try to keep in touch, but when everyone’s busy getting their own life together and amid their own worries, I don’t particularly blame anyone for growing distant.   It’s just interesting, in the beginning of the semester, so many people missed me, talked to me, and even cried about my departure – just like a real death had occurred.  It really made me think “is this what would happen if I died?”.  Of course, time stops for no one, and as the months went on, perchance my friends had realized I would be back soon enough or had gotten swamped by the amount of work they had to do in their respective programs, I had stopped receiving such messages and contact from friends back in BC.

I’m not upset about that at all.  Despite what it seems like.  It’s just interesting from my point of view, almost like a simulation of life on earth after my death – only on a much, much, smaller scale.

Why am I writing about this? Did something happen to make me contemplate my own death? Am I suicidal? No, I am not.

I’m currently reading a novel called A Tale for the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki (a tantalizing read, might I add).  The novel talks quite a lot about one’s inevitable demise, whether it be intentionally sparked or a natural one.  The setting is partially set in Japan around the 1940s(?), and the other half set in modern-day Whaletown, BC, a very real place on the Cortes Island.  The novelist, Ruth Ozeki, encounters a Hello Kitty lunchbox that acts as a safe keep for the diary of a Japanese girl, Naoko Yasutani, who narrates her daily life through purple gel pen ink and a DIY diary.

The perspective switch between Ruth and Naoko is not only well done, but gives a different insight and contrast between the two characters, and their very different lives, despite the same ethnic heritage.  The reader follows Ruth as she reads the log of Naoko, following her life page by page, discovering information at the same time as the audience.  It’s as if Naoko’s reaching out from the right side, while Ruth and the audience are reaching towards Naoko from the left – hoping to collide in the middle.

Okay so, why did this book spark my interest in death and suicide again?

It’s a topic that Naoko toys with a lot in the novel, or I guess, in her diary.  She writes about her and her family’s experience moving from Japan to Silicon Valley in the States due to her father being a computer science programmer or some sort like that, settling down in Sunnyvale, California, where she spent the majority of her life there.  Her family dynamic is drastically flipped on its head when her father gets laid off, and Nao (as she’s commonly referred to) and her family emigrate back to Japan.

Nao gets bullied relentlessly by her classmates. Her mother spends all her days watching the jellyfish in the aquarium before getting an office job. Her father becomes a hikikomori (ひきこもり), spending his days in the park, feeding the crows.  Feigning work in the early days of returning to the Land of the Rising Sun.

Nao’s father, Haruki as his name is revealed, decides to commit suicide by jumping in front of a train, the Chuo Rapid Express, which apparently; is one of the more popular methods of self-execution according to a self account Ruth finds whilst searching for the history and the current whereabouts of the Yasutani’s.

I had understood why Haruki Yasutani would want to commit suicide, his shame from lying to his family about finding a new job, the fact that he had fallen from such a successful position and left with nothing, the stripping of all pride and dignity spending his days feeding the crows at the nearby park, feeling sorry for his wife and daughter especially for not being able to support them.  I guess you could say, he was spiraling into a deep depression.

I, unfortunately, could tie this with the current situation with my father.

I now realize why this topic has been on my mind for so long, why this situation with Nao and her father captivated my interest and cultivated my thoughts to yield this fruit of epiphany.  I suppose I can conclude that I’m writing this, and have been writing about this topic for months because it’s a very real situation that I simply cannot ignore anymore.  Am I venting? Yeah, I think I can say that I am.

Though I’m frustrated, I know someone who’s even more frustrated with themselves – my father.

He’s not dead, readers.

But there’s something that tugs at my heartstrings and some evil spirit that puts in unfavourable thoughts in my daily life.  What if he had died?

It’s natural to see your parents or guardians suffer, to struggle through with the adulty-responsibilities we all have to one day face.  Having said that, there’s nothing wrong with suffering a little bit, to have a bit of hardship in your life to harden yourself into a better person.  The more experience one accumulates over their lifetime, more often than naught, they are more valued, wiser, knowledgeable and so on.  I don’t doubt that at all.

I strongly believe in strength acquired by difficult situations and times.  After all, I have had my fair share of disturbing moments in life, times that have disrupted my, at the time, established rhythmic pattern that made up my daily (mundane) life.  It’s like an iron sword in the making.  The more you forge and burn it in fire, the more strengthened it becomes, or it could take on a different shape entirely and the blacksmith may decide in last minute haste, to produce a sickle or a dagger instead.  Of course I’m no ironworker or familiar with blacksmithing, but there’s my poor attempt at creating a relatable metaphor.

I can confidently say that my parents have seen their fair share of difficult times, for Heaven’s sake, they immigrated to a foreign land with no family other than themselves and me, little to no money and what connections do you think a middle aged Korean couple would have overseas in the land of the maple leaf, hockey, and apparently endless winters, the land Koreans called Kenada (캐나다) rather than the rounder sound that native English speakers called, Canada? I’ll tell you that they had no connections.

I’ve always appreciated the work my parents have put in their life here in Canada.  I’ve always admired the strength they’ve showed over the past 18-19 years, or maybe it was feigned strength in hopes that their only daughter doesn’t catch on to their fears and sense the very real struggles and hardship that living as immigrants unfortunately brings to the table.

Recently, and mayhap this is just me putting up my father’s dirty laundry for all to see, but my father has been acting drastically different – even he’s saying he’s “no longer the same dad as [he] was in the past”, which of course I’ve noticed the change as the years flew by – living with the man for 18-19 years, one would hope I noticed the changes.  He’s a man that would do anything for me, well not anymore I guess but back in the earlier days, I suppose.

The whole reason why we have Sien (my dog) now is because I’ve pestered him for years to get a dog, to which he promised we would when our family became homeowners – a promise that seemed farfetched now, but in 7-8 years we had become just that, homeowners. Along came the dog in another 3 years or so.  Initially against the idea, he gave in just to see me happy, and perchance he noticed my own change in personality, he wanted to see me change positively, secretly praying the dog would aid in my transition back to the positive daughter I once was.

But anyway, my father explained to me the other day, in blind rage, a firm voice with an angry tone yet one can sense the slightest bit of tremble at the back of his throat, that he was changing, like an adolescent in the middle of puberty, like how my mother would one day go through menopause. This is a phenomena I’d like to dub as manopause.

Over the years, I’ve heard some pretty unsettling things fly from my father’s mouth.  Like him asking me whether I’d approve of him dating other women, getting a divorce with mum, or what would happen if he had enlisted in the possible war that might occur between South and North Korea, and if he had died.  He had asked me about the matter of his demise on numerous occasions, each with different executions – from his death in the war, to him killing himself, and how.

I always knew what to say to his questions; his life was his own and if he wanted to get a divorce with mum because he’s had enough, that’s good on him and he can go for it, if he wanted to date other women, sure – only except that I had to pre-approve of my potential step-mother before their relationship escalates.  But when it came to his death, I never knew what to say.  Or more like, I didn’t want to say the wrong thing that could possibly, even if there was a slight chance, intensify his desire to carry out the action.

Anyway, I’m pretty content with what I’ve written and though it wasn’t originally what I had intended to write about suicide and my unruly fascination with it, I feel like this took priority.  If this triggered anyone, I’m sorry – but it really needed to get off my mind and keeping it private or unpublished seemed to defeat the purpose of writing it down in the first place.  Maybe, this is my silent cry for help.  That maybe God is reading this, and can restore peace into my father.

He had told me, again in blind fury; “At least you’re gone in Halifax.  At least you have somewhere else to go here.  I have no where to go.  I’m stuck, stressed.  But it makes me feel better knowing that you’re over there”.

In the odd chance my dad is reading this, because occasionally my mum will read my posts and share them with my father;

Sorry Dad, I love you.

[lifeofaliterarynerd]

We Need Diverse Books: Black History Month Edition                                          *Books by black authors and/or have black protagonists

How It Went Down - Kekla Magoon //  When sixteen-year-old Tariq Johnson dies from two gunshot wounds, his community is thrown into an uproar. Tariq was black. The shooter, Jack Franklin, is white. In the aftermath of Tariq's death, everyone has something to say, but no two accounts of the events line up. Day by day, new twists further obscure the truth. Tariq's friends, family, and community struggle to make sense of the tragedy, and to cope with the hole left behind when a life is cut short. 

X - Ilyasah Shabazz & Kekla Magoon //  Cowritten by Malcolm X’s daughter, this riveting and revealing novel follows the formative years of the man whose words and actions shook the world. X follows Malcolm from his childhood to his imprisonment for theft at age twenty, when he found the faith that would lead him to forge a new path and command a voice that still resonates today.

The Hate U Give - Angie Thomas // Sixteen-year-old Starr lives in two worlds: the poor neighbourhood where she was born and raised and her posh high school in the suburbs. The uneasy balance between them is shattered when Starr is the only witness to the fatal shooting of her unarmed best friend, Khalil, by a police officer. Now what Starr says could destroy her community. It could also get her killed.  

The Women of Brewster Place - Gloria Naylor //  We follow the stories of seven women living in Brewster Place, a bleak inner-city sanctuary, creating a powerful, moving portrait of the strengths, struggles, and hopes of black women in America. Vulnerable and resilient, openhanded and open-hearted, these women forge their lives in a place that in turn threatens and protects—a common prison and a shared home. 

Piecing Me Together - Renée Watson //  Jade believes she must get out of her neighborhood if she’s ever going to succeed. Her mother says she has to take every opportunity. She has. She accepted a scholarship to a mostly-white private school and even Saturday morning test prep opportunities. But some opportunities feel more demeaning than helpful. Like an invitation to join Women to Women, a mentorship program for “at-risk” girls. Except really, it’s for black girls. From “bad” neighborhoods. 

Shadowshaper - Daniel José Older //  Sierra Santiago was looking forward to a fun summer of making art, hanging out with her friends, and skating around Brooklyn. But then a weird zombie guy crashes the first party of the season. Sierra's near-comatose abuelo begins to say "No importa" over and over. And when the graffiti murals in Bed-Stuy start to weep.... Well, something stranger than the usual New York mayhem is going on.

The Rock and The River - Kekla Magoon //  Set in 1968 Chicago, Thirteen -year-old Sam realizes it's not easy being the son of known civil rights activist Roland Childs. Especially when his older (and best friend), Stick, begins to drift away from him for no apparent reason. And then it happens: Sam finds something that changes everything forever. Sam has always had faith in his father, but when he finds literature about the Black Panthers under Stick's bed, he's not sure who to believe: his father or his best friend. Suddenly, nothing feels certain anymore. 

Monster - Walter Dean Myers //    Sixteen-year-old Steve Harmon is on trial for murder. A Harlem drugstore owner was shot and killed in his store, and the word is that Steve served as the lookout. Guilty or innocent, Steve becomes a pawn in the hands of "the system," cluttered with cynical authority figures and unscrupulous inmates, who will turn in anyone to shorten their own sentences. For the first time, Steve is forced to think about who he is as he faces prison, where he may spend all the tomorrows of his life. 

This Side of Home - Renée Watson //  Identical twins Nikki and Maya have been on the same page for everything—friends, school, boys and starting off their adult lives at a historically African-American college. But as their neighborhood goes from rough-and-tumble to up-and-coming, suddenly filled with pretty coffee shops and boutiques, Nikki is thrilled while Maya feels like their home is slipping away. Suddenly, the sisters who had always shared everything must confront their dissenting feelings on the importance of their ethnic and cultural identities and, in the process, learn to separate themselves from the long shadow of their identity as twins. 

Brown Girl Dreaming - Jacqueline Woodson //  Raised in South Carolina and New York, Woodson always felt halfway home in each place. In vivid poems, she shares what it was like to grow up as an African American in the 1960s and 1970s, living with the remnants of Jim Crow and her growing awareness of the Civil Rights movement. Touching and powerful, each poem is both accessible and emotionally charged, each line a glimpse into a child’s soul as she searches for her place in the world.  

Promise of Shadows - Justine Ireland //  Zephyr Mourning has never been very good at being a Harpy. She’d rather watch reality TV than learn forty-seven ways to kill a man, and she pretty much sucks at wielding magic. Zephyr was ready for a future pretending to be a normal human instead of a half-god assassin. But all that changes when her sister is murdered—and she uses a forbidden dark power to save herself from the same fate. 

Fake ID - Lamara Giles //   My name isn’t really Nick Pearson. I shouldn’t tell you where I’m from or why my family moved to Stepton, Virginia. I shouldn’t tell you who I really am, or my hair, eye, and skin color. And I definitely shouldn’t tell you about my friend Eli Cruz and the major conspiracy he was about to uncover when he died—right after I moved to town. About how I had to choose between solving his murder with his hot sister, Reya, and “staying low-key” like the Program has taught me. About how moving to Stepon changed my life forever. But I’m going to 

Endangered - Lamar Giles //  The one secret she cares about keeping—her identity—is about to be exposed. Unless Lauren "Panda" Daniels—an anonymous photoblogger who specializes in busting classmates and teachers in compromising positions—plays along with her blackmailer's little game of Dare or . . . Dare. But when the game turns deadly, Panda doesn't know what to do. And she may need to step out of the shadows to save herself . . . and everyone else on the Admirer's hit list. 

Don’t Fail Me Now - Una LaMarche //  Michelle and Leah only have one thing in common: Buck Devereaux, the biological father who abandoned them when they were little. After news trickles back to them that Buck is dying, they make the uneasy decision to drive across country to his hospice in California. Leah hopes for closure; Michelle just wants to give him a piece of her mind. Five people in a failing, old station wagon, living off free samples at food courts across America, and the most pressing question on Michelle’s mind is: Who will break down first--herself or the car? 

Flygirl - Sherri L Smith //  Ida Mae Jones dreams of flight. Her daddy was a pilot and being black didn't stop him from fulfilling his dreams. But her daddy's gone now, and being a woman, and being black, are two strikes against her. When America enters the war with Germany and Japan, the Army creates the WASP, the Women Airforce Service Pilots - and Ida suddenly sees a way to fly as well as do something significant to help her brother stationed in the Pacific. But even the WASP won't accept her as a black woman, forcing Ida Mae to make a difficult choice of "passing," of pretending to be white to be accepted into the program. Hiding one's racial heritage, denying one's family, denying one's self is a heavy burden. And while Ida Mae chases her dream, she must also decide who it is she really wants to be. 

Mare’s War - Tanita S Davis //  Meet Mare, a World War II veteran and a grandmother like no other. She was once a willful teenager who escaped her less than perfect life in the deep South and lied about her age to join the African American Battalion of the Women's Army Corps. Now she is driving her granddaughters—two willful teenagers in their own rite—on a cross-country road trip. The girls are initially skeptical of Mare's flippy wigs and stilletos, but they soon find themselves entranced by the story she has to tell, and readers will be too. 

Not Otherwise Specified - Hannah Mockowitz //  Etta is tired of dealing with all of the labels and categories that seem so important to everyone else in her small Nebraska hometown. Everywhere she turns, someone feels she's too fringe for the fringe. Not gay enough for the Dykes, her ex-clique, thanks to a recent relationship with a boy; not tiny and white enough for ballet, her first passion; and not sick enough to look anorexic (partially thanks to recovery). Etta doesn’t fit anywhere— until she meets Bianca, the straight, white, Christian, and seriously sick girl in Etta’s therapy group. Both girls are auditioning for Brentwood, a prestigious New York theater academy that is so not Nebraska. Bianca seems like Etta’s salvation, but how can Etta be saved by a girl who needs saving herself? 

Parable of the Sower - Octavia Butler //  When unattended environmental and economic crises lead to social chaos, not even gated communities are safe. In a night of fire and death Lauren Olamina, a minister's young daughter, loses her family and home and ventures out into the unprotected American landscape. But what begins as a flight for survival soon leads to something much more: a startling vision of human destiny... and the birth of a new faith. 

The Sun is Also a Star-Nicola Yoon //  Follow Natasha, a girl who believes in science and facts, as she meets Daniel, a dutiful son and dreamer, as they spend a single day together in New York - and try to stop Natasha’s family from being deported to Jamacia.

Everything, Everything - Nicola Yoon //  My disease is as rare as it is famous. Basically, I’m allergic to the world. I don’t leave my house, have not left my house in seventeen years. The only people I ever see are my mom and my nurse, Carla. But then one day, a moving truck arrives next door. I look out my window, and I see him. His name is Olly. Maybe we can’t predict the future, but we can predict some things. For example, I am certainly going to fall in love with Olly. It’s almost certainly going to be a disaster 

Pointe - Brandy Colbert //  Theo is better now. She's eating again, dating guys who are almost appropriate, and well on her way to becoming an elite ballet dancer. But when her oldest friend, Donovan, returns home after spending four long years with his kidnapper, Theo starts reliving memories about his abduction—and his abductor. Donovan isn't talking about what happened, and even though Theo knows she didn't do anything wrong, telling the truth would put everything she's been living for at risk. But keeping quiet might be worse. 

The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl - Issa Rae //  Being an introvert in a world that glorifies cool isn’t easy. But  Rae covers everything from cybersexing in the early days of the Internet to deflecting unsolicited comments on weight gain, from navigating the perils of eating out alone and public displays of affection to learning to accept yourself—natural hair and all.

Tiny Pretty Things - Dhonielle Clayton & Sona Charaipotra //  Gigi, Bette, and June, three top students at an exclusive Manhattan ballet school, have seen their fair share of drama. Free-spirited new girl Gigi just wants to dance—but the very act might kill her. Privileged New Yorker Bette's desire to escape the shadow of her ballet star sister brings out a dangerous edge in her. And perfectionist June needs to land a lead role this year or her controlling mother will put an end to her dancing dreams forever. When every dancer is both friend and foe, the girls will sacrifice, manipulate, and backstab to be the best of the best. 

Liar-Justine Larbalestier //  Micah will freely admit that she’s a compulsive liar, but that may be the one honest thing she’ll ever tell you. Over the years she’s duped her classmates, her teachers, and even her parents, and she’s always managed to stay one step ahead of her lies. That is, until her boyfriend dies under brutal circumstances and her dishonesty begins to catch up with her. But is it possible to tell the truth when lying comes as naturally as breathing? 

Hidden Figures - Margot Lee Shatterly //  Before John Glenn orbited the earth or Neil Armstrong walked on the moon, a group of dedicated female mathematicians known as “human computers” used pencils, slide rules, and adding machines to calculate the numbers that would launch rockets, and astronauts, into space. This book brings to life the stories of Dorothy Vaughan, Mary Jackson, Katherine Johnson, and Christine Darden, four African-American women who lived through the Civil Rights era, the Space Race, the Cold War, and the movement for gender equality, and whose work forever changed the face of NASA and the country. 

The Color Purple - Alice Walker //  Taking place mostly in rural Georgia, the story focuses on the life of women of color in the southern United States in the 1930s, addressing numerous issues including their exceedingly low position in American social culture. The novel has been the frequent target of censors and appears on the American Library Association list of the 100 Most Frequently Challenged Books of 2000-2009 at number seventeen because of the sometimes explicit content, particularly in terms of violence. 

Sister Citizen- Melissa Harris Perry //  Not a traditional political science work concerned with office-seeking, voting, or ideology, Sister Citizen instead explores how African American women understand themselves as citizens and what they expect from political organizing. Harris-Perry shows that the shared struggle to preserve an authentic self and secure recognition as a citizen links together black women in America, from the anonymous survivors of Hurricane Katrina to the former First Lady of the United States. 

The Blossoming Universe of Violet Diamond - Brenda Woods //  Violet is a smart, funny, brown-eyed, brown-haired girl in a family of blonds. Her mom is white, and her dad, who died before she was born, was black. She attends a mostly white school where she sometimes feels like a brown leaf on a pile of snow. She’s tired of people asking if she’s adopted. Now that Violet’s eleven, she decides it’s time to learn about her African American heritage. And despite getting off to a rocky start trying to reclaim her dad’s side of the family, she can feel her confidence growing as the puzzle pieces of her life finally start coming together. 

The Summer of Chasing Mermaids - Sarah Ockler //  The youngest of six talented sisters, Elyse d'Abreau was destined for stardom - until a boating accident took everything from her. Now, the most beautiful singer in Tobago can't sing. She can't even speak. Seeking quiet solitude, Elyse accepts a friend's invitation to Atargatis Cove. Named for the mythical first mermaid, the Oregon seaside town is everything Elyse's home in the Caribbean isn't: an ocean too cold for swimming, parties too tame for singing, and people too polite to pry - except for one.

Black Boy White School - Brian F Walker  //  Anthony “Ant” Jones has never been outside his rough East Cleveland neighborhood when he’s given a scholarship to Belton Academy, an elite prep school in Maine.But at Belton things are far from perfect. Everyone calls him “Tony,” assumes he’s from Brooklyn, expects him to play basketball, and yet acts shocked when he fights back. As Anthony tries to adapt to a world that will never fully accept him, he’s in for a rude awakening: Home is becoming a place where he no longer belongs.