#imagine being one of only two doctors in your entire town you’re the last one left you’ve survived this long

[iamnotoriginalphil]

Hi! I’ve been following you since you started writing for the 13th doctor and now I’m so happy to see that you’re writing for Larissa too!! Can I request one where reader is a teacher and is really shy around her, but after a night out with the other teachers, they drunkenly flirt with Larissa and confess? Larissa thinks it’s cute and takes care of drunk reader but when reader wakes up the next day in their room, they start avoiding Larissa cos they only remember confessing. But make it have a fluffy ending though. Thanks!!!!

Thank you for following me for so long. I hope this makes you happy!

The meeting was dragging on. You’d been sitting there for over two hours and each minute that ticked by was like torture. The warm body beside you shifted, arm brushing against yours. You drew back, eyes darting over to your neighbour. Her eyes were trained on old Victor but they were glazed and her chin was propped on her hand.

You allowed yourself a moment to watch her. Just a single moment to keep from being seen. You couldn’t imagine what you’d do if she caught you staring. Pale skin and blue eyes, red lips and silver hair, you’d never seen someone so perfect as her.

You startled as she stood up, others around the table following suit. You blinked, following along, hearing chatter filling the room, drowning out your thoughts about one Larissa Weems, the most gorgeous woman you’d ever seen.

“Hey, you’re coming with us tonight, right?” your friend asked, hand on your shoulder.

You followed them out of the room, filtering out with the rest of the staff.

“Yeah, of course, last night of freedom,” you said, laughing.

“Well, that is good to hear. You’ve worked hard. You deserve a fun night out.”

Your cheeks heated up as you turned to find your boss standing behind you. She was smiling down at you and your heart skipped a beat. You gave a strained smile to her before bowing your head and scurrying away.

You dressed yourself carefully, hoping Larissa would be coming on the night out. You were also a little worried she would be there. It could either go really well or really badly.

The bar was dimly lit and your group was given a wide berth from the other patrons from the town. You were sitting on the edge of a booth, your friend’s arm pressing against yours. Drinks were placed down in front of you, one after another, each a new bright fun colour. You didn’t realise how much you’d had to drink until you were walking down the street, arm slung over your friend’s shoulder, speech slurring as you sang loud on the way back to the van.

“Come on.”

Your friend pushed you into the vehicle, buckling you in. You stared out the window at the passing night, disappointment stealing the giggles from your lips. Larissa hadn’t joined your group, the loss only notable to you, you were sure.

“Off to bed,” your friend said, tapping your ass as you all entered the entrance to the school.

You giggled, letting them push you up the stairs. They opened the door to your room, dropping you down onto the bed. You bounced, giggling again.

“Alright,” they said, crouching down to take your shoes off, “time to sleep.”

“Kay,” you said, falling over, head landing on your pillow.

You closed your eyes, the bed swaying underneath you. The door closed with a soft click, the door closed, leaving you alone.

Which made your mind wander. Larissa hadn’t come out with you. Which meant she’d been alone that entire time. You wanted to know what she’d been doing. And why she hadn’t come out with you. And if she would pin you to her bed and make you scream with pleasure.

You rolled off the bed, opening your door just a crack. No one else was out in the hall. You shut the door behind you, padding down the hall to the stairs, climbing them slowly to keep them from creaking. Principal Weems had an entire living quarters to herself. Perfect to not be overheard in.

You knocked, pressing your lips together. You didn’t need to giggle right now. It was very serious.

The door was pulled open and you felt your mouth grow dry. Ruffled hair, silk robe showing a tantalising shadow, not perfectly made up. Larissa was too beautiful. You could stare at her forever.

She said your name, quirking an eyebrow at you. You lent against the doorframe, doing your best to stay upright.

“Did you know you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen?” you said, swaying towards her.

“Is that right?” she replied, chin tilting down as her gaze turned all kinds of playful.

“I have all kinds of thought around you,” you said, “and about you.”

“Are you about to share them with me?” she asked.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” you said, “I also really want to kiss every inch of your body.”

“This is enlightening,” she said, her voice so husky it made you tremble.

“I just think you’re so sexy,” you said, “and you’re really smart too. And basically the most passionate person I’ve ever met. And you give me butterflies and make my heart skip a beat. And your smile. You’ve got the best smile. Did I mention sexy? Because you’re so sexy. Those dresses you wear just make me lose my mind. And you’re also just really beautiful. I think I have the biggest crush on you ever.”

“Alright,” she said with a small chuckle, “I can see you’ve had a wonderful night.”

“Would you like to make it wonderfuler?” you asked with a wink.

“Come on then,” she said, slipping out into the hall with you. You beamed up at her, tilting your face towards her, waiting for your kiss.

She placed a hand on your shoulder, gently turning you back the way you’d come. She led you back down the stairs, hand on your waist steadying you. You could have melted under her touch.

She gently pushed your door open, your room still dark. Soft hands guided you to the bed. You watched her walk into your bathroom, coming back with a full glass of water. She placed down on your bedside table, along with a bottle of painkillers.

“Get in the bed,” she said, and the way her voice was so commanding made you clench your thighs together.

“Only if you’re getting in with me,” you replied.

She sat on the bed, waiting for you to swing your legs up on to the mattress. She gently lay your blanket over your body, sure hands tucking you in. You whined, reaching a hand out to her. She caught it, pressing it back down onto the bed. With a cool hand she pushed the hair off your face, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“You need to sleep,” she said, “the students arrive tomorrow and I need you in working order.”

“Kay,” you said, drowsiness creeping up on you as she continued to stroke your hair.

“We’ll talk about all of this in the morning.”

The next thing you knew someone was hammering on your door in time with the pounding in your head. You sat up, bleary and out of focus. You grimaced down at yourself, hating when you fell asleep in your clothes. At least you weren’t still wearing shoes.

Thanking drunk you for leaving a glass of water and painkillers for you, you downed them, wincing as the hammering continued. You stood, feeling dizzy for a moment before shuffling over to the door.

“You look like shit,” your friend said when you finally opened the door.

“Fuck off,” you said, but let them in.

“You going to tell me why I saw Weems leaving your room late last night?” they asked, plopping down on your bed.

“What?” You turned too quickly, head swimming, almost falling over your own feet.

“Don’t you remember?” They laughed, “you’re such a lightweight.”

But flashes from the night before were coming back. Stumbling home, lying in the dark, walking up the stairs, knocking on her door, Larissa in a silk robe, your rambling confession. You groaned, running to the bathroom, the contents of your stomach making a return.

“You better get ready,” your friend called through the open door, “students will be here in an hour and you’re going to want to get some food in you.”

You groaned again at the thought. Their laugh followed them as they left you to your hangover. Stumbling through a shower and dressing, you cursed the sun for existing. You chucked on a pair of shades and made your way down to the dining hall, knowing they were right. Bacon. You needed bacon.

The dining hall was loud and you regretted your decision to make an appearance. No one should be that loud in the morning. You piled eggs and bacon on to your plate, doing your best to not collapse.

“Who knew you were such a party animal?”

You flinched, looking up and up into the face of the only person you didn’t want to see. You felt your cheeks heat up and you took a step back.

“Heh, yeah, right,” you said, before turning on your heels and striding away. Or rather, your best imitation of striding in your current condition.

Bypassing your friend you left the dining hall, taking your plate outside, hoping the fresh air would wipe away your hangover and embarrassment. It also gave you the change to find a secluded place in the woods to avoid seeing Larissa again.

Which turned out to be your strategy for the entire first week of the new school year. She was busy enough you didn’t see her, and you were able to avoid sitting close to her in the dining hall. No one had to know what had happened, and you never had to speak to her again. It was a flawless system.

Except sometimes she’d catch your eye from across the room and you’d know she was remembering your words.

You took to hiding in the woods when you weren’t teaching. Peaceful, quiet, and alone. Your thoughts ran wild but there was no chance of seeing her there. She rarely ventured out that far, so often needed in the school she wasn’t afforded the time to leave for that long.

Until one day she was.

You’d slipped out first thing Saturday morning, creeping through the woods as if you had something to hide. You did, but your shame was yours, and no one needed a front row seat to your embarrassment. Some time to clear your head before you did your best to not see her in the halls during the weekend.

Only she was sitting on the log you’d claimed at the start of the week. She looked up at your approach, watching as you warily walked towards her.

“Principle Weems,” you greeted.

‘Surely we’re past such formalities,” she said with a soft smile, “after all, I’ve put you to bed.”

Your cheeks burned and you had to look away.

“Yes, I… I’m sorry about that,” you said, “I’m not very good at holding my liquor.”

“You’ve been avoiding me,” she said.

“No I…” She raised an eyebrow at you and you were sure she was thinking back on every time you’d abruptly turn around and walk out of a room the moment you saw her.

“Is this about what you said to me that night?” she asked.

“No!”

“You’re a bad liar.”

She was still sitting on your log, making no move to get up, and yet you still flinched back. Her face softened and she folded her hands in her lap.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” she said, conversationally, as if you weren’t about to combust into flames before her.

“You can just forget it,” you said, shaking your head.

“Now why would I do that when you offered to do something that sounded rather nice?” she asked.

“Oh God.” You buried your face in your hands, skin practically sizzling.

“I have wondered if that was something you might moan as I feast on you.”

You peeked through your fingers, almost trembling at the implication. She was watching you, a smirk on those red lips, eyes smouldering towards you.

“I think I’d rather hear you moaning my name, of course, but I’m not picky,” she continued. Was this really happening?

“Mostly, I’ve been wondering exactly what it would sound like to have you scream my name as you come undone,” she said.

“What?” You had no idea what was going on.

“Love, I’ve found you to be the most enchanting creature since you began working here,” she said, “but every attempt I made to grow closer, you brushed off. Until that night I’d begun to lose hope.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You stumbled forward a step, hands dropping to your sides. You wanted to see her face, all of it. You wanted to watch her lips form the words coming out of her mouth.

“Because confessing my feelings has not often worked out for me,” she said, “truth is, I’m not as brave as you.”

“I wasn’t brave,” you said, shaking your head, “only drunk.”

“And for that I’m internally grateful.”

Her hands shot out, grasping your hips, dragging you closer until you were standing right in front of her. With her on the log you were taller than her, able to look down into her blue eyes, twinkling up at you.

“You were wrong, you know?” she said as if her touch wasn’t setting you alight, “about having the biggest crush on me ever.”

“I was?” She chuckled as your brows drew together in confusion.

“Yes, because I’m afraid I take that title for the crush I’ve had on you,” she said.

Your hands landed on her shoulders and her smile was bright enough to light up the night sky. You lent forward until you felt the heat from her body.

“Agree to disagree,” you breathed before kissing her.

Turns out, she loved you screaming her name so much she let you do little else for the rest of the weekend.

[dancingdanvers]

Welcome to Aurora Bay, [CAROLINE JAYME]! I couldn’t help but notice you look an awful lot like [BRITT ROBERTSON]. You must be the [TWENTY EIGHT] year old [EVENT PLANNER]. Word is you’re [LOYAL] but can also be a bit [PEDANTIC] and your favorite song is [THE SHOW - LENKA]. I also heard you’ll be staying in [OCEAN CREST APARTMENTS]. I’m sure you’ll love it!

[[ Cancer mention tw]]

Thanks to Caroline’s father being English, the girl was born in London after her mother moved there to live with him. They’d been married for five years when they found out she was expecting a baby and even though that was known to bring two people together it only drove Mr and Mrs Jayme apart, escalating into loud frequent rows until he walked out on them not long after Caroline’s sixth birthday. 

The woman took her husband’s leaving incredibly hard but after two further years of living in England she decided the best thing to do was return to her hometown of Aurora Bay with her young daughter to be closer to what she knew and around the people she’d grown up with. 

The move made Carrie very nervous, going to a place she’d never been in her life, she clung onto her mother even more than she did before. A mommy’s girl through and through the girl already considered the woman her best friend, she was effectively her mini me. To cope with the transatlantic move she started to read even more than she already did, escaping into fictional worlds where she could be instantly transported wherever she wanted to be. It was a way for her to cope with her anxiety which was something she’d always suffered with but was only made worse by the significant life changes that had been inflicted on her. 

Life passed uneventfully for the next ten years as Carrie made her way through school, a naturally academic girl, she did well in most of her classes and while she didn’t have a huge number of friends she had a those she trusted the most which worked for her. Loyal in nature trust was very important to her, the social intricacies of high school especially left her utterly baffled. Not understanding why so much judgment was passed over what someone wore or what they did or did not have, not seeing the attraction of cheerleading or football as something to be revered. Finding it pretty boring on the whole. 

Caroline was twenty five when her mother got sick. The cancer was already stage three when the doctors discovered it during what was meant to be a routine physical, and less than a year later she had passed away leaving Carrie all alone. Never having had any siblings and her father no longer in contact with his only child, she’d lost her only family as well as her best friend all at the same time. It wasn’t something she dealt with very well, going out a little more than she usually did, drinking to try to cope. Not too much but since she’d never really been one for alcohol before that it would easily go to her head, allowing her to fall asleep a little more easily. 

One night stands were something the blonde had never had before so when she did have her first with Gavin Carrigan the last thing she could have imagined in a million years would that it would result in her falling pregnant with his child. Effectively a stranger she didn’t have any concept of how to communicate the information with him, tell him she was pregnant, so instead she just left town. Avoiding having to do it altogether by moving entirely, selling her family home which felt like it was ripping a void inside her as she did. Caroline headed to the East Coast to live with some friends from collage, choosing to stay there even after she gave birth to her son Hindley Jayme, named after the character from Wuthering Hights which had for a long time been one of her favourite books. It was also possible that she’d subconsciously remembered from the one night they spent together that Gavin was into music, the song Wuthering Hights by Kate Bush being one of Carrie’s other favourite things, but it was also possible this was entirely a coincidence. 

Offered a well paying job as an event planner in a company run by a long time friend of her mother’s back in Aurora Bay the logical side of Caroline knew that she had to take it. It would allow for her to provide for her son easier, not to mention the guilt she’d been feeling over the last couple of years keeping the little boy from Gavin when he was almost a mini version of his father to look at, drove her back to the town. Getting them an apartment at Ocean Crest she holds the dream in her heart of being able to buy back the home she shared with her mom, but for now she was happy just trying to find her footing once more in the town she had called home for so long. 

Sweet, a little nervous, pedantic, the kind of person who zones in on tiny details (which works well for her job but less well in her general life), Caroline is honestly the kind of person who is just trying to do her best. Trying to juggle being a first time single mom as well as working a full time job, while all the time not crumbling under the various life pressures that everyone has to deal with. Her son is the apple of her eye, there is no one Carrie dotes on more, but that also means she spends a lot of time worrying about him. However she is growing in confidence as a mom as time passes. A big reader, lover of baking, very type A in the way she chooses to work, you’ll never find her using the calendar on her phone, instead choosing always to use a paper diary to keep track of what was going on in her life. With Hindley at  nursery three mornings a week those are the times she’s using to rediscover who she is as a person outside of being a mother which is actually something she’s really enjoying. 

[l35213]

“he passed. void take me, i couldn’t keep his infection down.”

[theveryworstthing]

So over on patreon Trevor asked for my take on the Addams Family and I grew up LOVING the Addams family movies so here we are. Instead of doing a straight up style interpretation, I decided to do a full on design challenge, using the characters as bases to make a black southern gothic Addams au. I actually drew the kids first, using the character bases of Wednesday and Pugsley to create some delightful kiddos I'm calling Sunday and Blanche. I of course then redesigned Gomez and Morticia into Carlisle and Mortesha.

The Addams have a very specific high aristocratic goth aesthetic (they've got a butler and nobody really works among other things) so in this re-imagining I wanted to go with vibes that run a little more middle class/upper middle class.  I thought it would be interesting to think about what would be considered weird and off-putting in an entirely different culture, and how being a big ol' goth is way less controversial than it used to be.

I tried to keep this short (HAHAHAHAHAHA) so I didn't spin off into an essay about villain coded families, black people in the horror genre, and normalcy as it pertains to social survival, but just...bits of that are in these designs and lore. Keep that in mind.

Also I made the kids twins because they've flip flopped in age so much in different media and also twins run in my family (i'm the daughter of one). And let's face it, I'm pulling a lot of their southern gothic traits from living as a southern goth so *shrug*.

10 thousand pounds of lore incoming loooooooooool.

The Parents

From the moment he saw her he knew that there was a 50/50 chance of him either never making it out of that swamp alive or marrying the figure that was creeping out from under the distant willow tree in a black cocktail dress. The third time she found him trussed up in one of her traps, he complimented her rope work and asked if she'd like to go out sometime after his head wound stopped bleeding.

Or while it was still bleeding.

If she was into that.

Some kids and a mysteriously burnt down Piggly Wiggly later, their love is still as strong and inescapable as a bear trap in a sink hole.

Carlisle Guillermo (now Addams through marriage but I wanted to give him two first names for a name since Gomez has two last names) makes a vaguely described living practicing ‘law’ around town. A loophole king, people come to him from miles around with contracts signed in blood, fights over chunks of hair buried in their rivals’ yard, dehydrated primate hands, memories that seemed like dreams until the evidence of their happenings became too real, and other regular Legal Items asking for counsel which he is all too happy to give. For a price. Sometimes that price is a homemade pie and sometimes it’s a million dollars, depends on who you are. Whatever you’re asked to pay it’s worth that price, and if you try to scam him out of work or he just plain doesn’t like you? Well. He knows how to twist a contract better than anything at the crossroads.

And he always gets his due.

He doesn’t just serve the local (living)humans though, there are many things that need proper legal representation in this day and age. You wouldn’t believe how many city councils try to build on sacred burial grounds even after he lets them know that his ghostly clients are totally gonna haunt the FUCK out of the ensuing shitty condos and curse their families for all eternity. At least 50% of his energy goes towards dealing with real estate bullshit.

Carl is an excitable and good natured(?) man who loves his family, cigars, dancing, and his many knife-based hobbies. People find him very charming once they get past the feeling that they’re talking to a sultry gator badly disguising itself as a human. I didn’t put a ton of deep thought into designing him, mostly I wanted to make a middle aged dude who looked like he would have been voted ‘most likely to smooch the literal devil’ in high school. Tbh he probably has, but no demonic ex’s can compare to his lovely wife~

Mortesha Addams(her name was already perfect so I just tweaked it)is a woman of many talents. A self proclaimed homemaker, she prides herself on a greenhouse full of Concerning Foliage, a beautiful wasp apiary, and a coop full of what are probably chickens that she keeps for what are probably eggs. She’s also an avid creator of the outsider art that can be seen around the estate. She has taken on the family business of selling her homemade goods in a little stall by the road just outside the swamp with her mom, and makes pretty good money doing so. A surprising amount of poison gets bought in quaint southern towns.

Speaking of poison, people who come out to the edge of the swamp to buy it are usually carrying a lot of secrets around, and Mortesha knows most of them. It’s not like she pries the truth out of people, it just so happens that many nervous hellos eventually turn into the tragic backstory power hour if she’s alone with a client for long enough. She supposes that’s just how people are. Despite the fact that the Addams are very active in the community (whether the community likes it or not) she especially, as a direct descendant of the first Addams matriarch, is seen as…Well not an outsider because the community feels A Certain Way about outsiders and despite it all the Addams are their people, but maybe something like an exception. They feel like whatever weirdness they’re hiding can’t be weirder than any given Addams, so they get a little loose with their words.

This is amusing to her, since Addams’ don’t naturally keep the kind dramatic secrets that their surface level prim and proper neighbors do. It’s much more fun to openly talk about those things.

Do they have a sadly decrepit yet terrifying grandma up in the attic? Yeah, like three. They got a tv, all the creepy porcelain dolls they could want, and they’re close to family. Where do you keep your gram-grams?

Any bodies buried on the property? Yeah some, but most are thrown to the gators.

Any creeping through the balmy summer night with ill intentions? Yeah dude, everyone loves a nice family stroll.

What about dangerous forbidden love? If an adult Addams isn’t incorporeal then they’re either queer or in a torrid romance with some person/thing mysteriously drawn to that awful swamp. Sometimes both at the same time. Most times actually.

Mortesha would know.

The current head of the Addams family is just as outgoing as her husband but a lot quieter and harder to read. She never really seems to get mad about much and always has a genteel smile for everyone whether they deserve it or not. A seven foot tall human shaped “Oh, bless your heart”. A perfectly composed Lady even when she’s, oh I dunno, burning down a Piggly Wiggly. You know. A regular southern mom. Chat her up at the hair salon for 50% off a jar of wasp honey with your next purchase of a mysterious but foreboding packet of herbs.

Designing her was pretty easy because I just drew a lankier Grace Jones and called it a day. I had some problems with her outfit simply because if we were going HARD southern gothic then she’d probably be wearing a white/cream dress with a fuller skirt but I thought keeping the silhouette and the black was more important. She’s supposed to be an anti southern gothic southern gothic character anyway. A woman who looks like she has a million secrets who is actually the most open person you could meet. For better or worse. The red hair came from a coloring error that I really ended up liking (my mom had red hair her whole childhood that only darkened up in high school so I can buy that an Addams can be naturally fire engine red) and the veil was to get more of that classic Morticia silhouette in there.

The Children

Sunday and Blanche are the twin children of Carlisle and Mortesha Addams. Some say the Addams clan got their cursed homestead when a wealthy local businessman made a deal with the devil and lost, leaving his grand mansion to his least favorite maid and cutting his losses once he realized that the swamp would do everything it could to drag the house into the water and take what was owed with its horrible curse. Others say that the family has just always squatted there and no one really cares because man, fuck that particular swamp. Have you been in there? Absolute horror show.

Anyway.

Blanche is the more outgoing sibling and quite the engineer/mad scientist in the making. He started going grey at 2 weeks old but considering he was also rocking some extra fingers, toes, and a tiny tail (he takes after his dad), his parents just put it on the 'not life threatening' pile and decided not to worry about it. He's the kind of smart that teachers find utterly infuriating, less a dog eagerly learning and obeying commands and more a hyena who keeps teaching itself how to pick locks. He has a few friends in his school's robotics club (which they honestly allowed him to make so the school could contain his... creations) but mostly hangs out with his sister exploring the swamp. They find all sorts of neat things in there! wedding rings, suspiciously lumpy garbage bags, cloaked cultists who can't read private property signs, it's an adventure every day!

Blanche is all about experimentation with his creations, his look, and his tether to this mortal coil. Is lipstick a cool thing to try? Let's find out. Can he get out of a strait jacket fast enough after being pushed into the depths of the swamp by his sister? let's find out. He's not dead yet and confused local doctors can attest to the fact that he's rarely attained more than a bad bruise so he's pretty set on continuing to kiss rattlesnakes on their cute little heads and have his sister practice her knife throwing at him until that fact changes.

Blanche is very much a country goth. Cowboy boots (customized by his mom), knife, and lighter are daily accessories. He likes to wear the crusty swamp jewelry they find (the rust adds a splash of color!) and despite appearances he does try to keep himself neat. He's just got  natural Grunge Colors and a tendency to wear clothes he likes until they fall apart. Pugsley always seemed the most modernly styled to me (which might just be because little boys clothes have been the same for a long time) so I wanted Blanche to be the most purposely fashionable Addams. Everyone else is goth by nature, but he's the only one truly familiar with goth as an alternative fashion.

I got really into designing Blanche because honestly, I find Pugsley to be the most boring member of the family. And he was hard to design! I had to mess with his vibe a lot to get him looking how I wanted. I know he's supposed to evoke an " 'evil' little boy next door who's parents never reign him in", but that's just goth Dennis The Menace.  I's 2020. We can at least go queer goth Calvin.

Sunday was much easier to design. Wednesday was my favorite as a child (of course) and I really wanted to keep the spirit of her look while adding things like billowy sleeves (it gets HOT down here), big poofy twists instead of braids, and a nice tie. She's a professional after all, been running the local pet cemetery since she was 6 and the previous groundskeeper met with an unfortunate accident after telling her that tarantulas don't have souls. Her specialty is creating beautiful naturalistic animal funerals similar to those that Maquenda (https://linktr.ee/artofmaquenda) makes, and she takes pride in creating miniature dioramas of her subjects after each burial which she uses as a kind of 3D catalog for future clients.

She really wants to try out her skills on humans one day. Well. Publicly try out her skills. Lotta random bodies float into the swamp. None of them have turned down her requests for diorama models so far. Most seem downright flattered. Plus, she usually figures out which graveyard/crime scene they floated over from and gets her parents to give them a lift back. She'll even help enact terrifying revenge from beyond the grave on whoever put them there if she's not, y'know, busy.

Besides arts, crafts, and pet based funerary arrangements, Sunday is an avid lover of archery (any ranged weapon really), books where little fantasy adventure animals die dramatic deaths, and history. She is That Kid who eagerly raises her hand when asked who Christopher Columbus was and ends up being sent out of class after 15 minutes for making 'a scene'. Her favorite party trick is just picking an item in the room and talking about how it relates to either some obscure historical figure with a buck wild life or a horrible disaster. At least one charity pancake breakfast ended with children in tears after her vivid description of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919.

Social-wise, while Wednesday is the girl that people ask to smile because they think she'd, "look so pretty", Sunday is rarely asked anything at all. People just kind of assume from her quiet nature (in between horrible history facts) that she's angry all the time and that she hates everyone. This is untrue. She hates some people but she's ambivalent to most everyone else and even downright friendly if you bother to talk to her like a person instead of a terrifying cryptid. Like, she IS a terrifying cryptid but she's also a little girl.  

That’s about it for now. One day I might do the other family members but for now I’m happy with the four I’ve redesigned. Making an au! Lurch in a family that doesn’t do butlers could be interesting. Over on patreon I put forth that he could just be Motesha’s mute little brother (similar bone structure) but Amy Crook had the nice idea of quote: “ a mysterious "cousin" that "helps around the house" whose origins are both long in the past and faintly unsettling. He's good for lifting heavy things, like that tank of propane you're about to throw into the burning Piggly Wiggly... “ which i now consider canon. Who's kid is he? How old is he? Not important. Anyone willing to commit arson with you is family.

Annnnyway.  This challenge was a lot of fun! I love indulging in AU’s.

[writingabouteverything]

The Perfect White Flower--and Other Nonexistent Things

a/n YALL THIS IS PROBABLY DUMB BUT I HAD THIS IDEA ABOUT A HARRY STYLES X READER FIC THATS BASED ON THE PLOT OF JANE THE VIRGIN AND I WANTED TO WRITE IT SO BADLY I MADE THIS ACCOUNT

disclaimer--wont follow the show exactly 

Pairing: Harry Styles x latina! reader (a key factor of the show revolves around the lead being latina, and im latina and honestly love writing for us but anyone can still read and understand/hopefully enjoy and the fic doesn’t involve any physical descriptions:)) 

Series Summary: Y/n l/n has had the world figured out since she was a child. She won’t be a writer because it’s risky, she’ll just focus on school and becoming a teacher. She’s never been a child, because her mother had her at sixteen and hasn’t aged a single year since. That’s part of the reason the promise she made to her grandmother means so much to her--if she doesn’t have sex before marriage, her child will never have to grow up as quickly as she did. And Harry Styles is at the top of the world--his music has never been more successful, he has a lovely girlfriend, and he’s never been more in demand. He has everything in the world...except a child, and through a series of unbelievable events--y/n might be his only chance to have one. Ever. 

Chapter One Summary: Who knew getting a pap smear on two hours of sleep and three cups of coffee was as bad as having unprotected sex? 

There’s something dangerous about taking public transportation in LA. And no, I don’t mean it in the ‘there are bad people in the world’ type of way. I mean it in the ‘I live in one of the casual influencer, celebrity, tourist hubs of the world and each time I step onto the bus I find myself mesmerized by all the stories I see in them’ way. Kind of pathetic, I know, but sometimes a child with blonde pig tails or a woman streaming on instagram live will catch my eye and the urge to pull out my lap top and start something I’ll never finish. 

I know that writing isn’t some kind of disease. But I can’t let myself fall in love with it the way I want to. There’s nothing wrong with writing a short story or two, but trying to write a novel? That’s impractical. It will distract me from school, from the four year plan I’m almost done with.

Sighing, I brave taking at my surroundings. I deserve this today, after the anonymous, rude costumer at the hotel today, I need positivity. No one is particularly inspiring. The bus stops and I watch out the window. At first the crowd is ordinary, and then i see them...paparazzi. Flashing cameras from all angles, grown men violating all rules of personal space. It never sits right with me, but I guess it’s just part of living in LA. The bus starts moving again. When it stops again, I see even more paparazzis, but their cameras aren’t flashing. Good for whoever escaped that. 

The bus door opens and I snap my attention back to my computer screen. I rub my eyes as I stare at my word document. How is there more that needs to be edited? This professor is the harshest grader I’ve ever had, and my friend, Gisa, is kind for giving me even more notes. But I’m exhausted. Two tests and an essay due before 12:00. And it’s...11:38. Great--I have to upload it the second I’m at my doctor’s office and have WiFi again. 

I spend some time highlighting and rewording sentences, and once I’m done I reward myself with more people watching because I deserve it and I can’t fall asleep here. I’m kind of invested in the girl live streaming her bus ride...maybe she’ll say her instagram handle. 

But when I look up, she’s not on the bus anymore. Almost no one is. An elderly couple is sitting towards the back. A woman with a toddler sit two rows in front of me...and there’s now a man directly across from me. I blink for a moment, imagining a story for someone who’s face I can’t quite see beneath such dark sun glasses. His dark waves and strong jaw do most of the imagining for me--he deserves a mystery, a dramatic one with a happy ending and just enough romance to keep the people interested. A good romance, too--not too sappy. Enemies to lovers, maybe. A mysterious stranger that’s not really a stranger because something about him is just...familiar. 

He turns his head and I drop my gaze immediately. There’s no doubt he caught that, but I still pretend to edit the title of my essay. “You’ve been typing stubbornly since I first got on the bus.” There’s an accent--of course he’s english. But it’s more than that, I’ve heard that voice before. I’ve been...soothed by it. And--oh my god, I’m sitting across from Harry Styles.

Okay, don’t freak out. Don’t freak him out. He’s probably on here to escape the the whole ‘oh my god, you’re Harry Styles!’ thing.  

“What are you writing?” Harry Styles just spoke to me. I greeted my one direction poster every single day in middle school, and Harry Styles just spoke to me. Okay--relax, breathe--it’s only weird if you make it weird. 

There’s a kind of curt curiosity to his question. He could have been ruder, considering how blatantly I was staring at him. “I um...an essay.” I’m temped to turn the screen so that he can see I’m telling the truth. Though he wasn’t hostile, a part of me is paranoid that he thinks I am writing about him. It’s a fair assumption, for all he knows I’m drafting a tweet about who I saw on the bus this morning or preparing to send something in to some gossip girl-esque blog. “It’s due today at noon and normally I’m way more on top of things, but I had this last minute doctor’s appointment rescheduling because my usual doctor is out of town and--” I cut myself off before I can tell Harry Styles that I’m ovulating and that if I don’t go to my OBGYN now, I have to wait an entire month and I’ve already been off birth control longer than I’d like. I might not have actual sex in my near future, but my cramps have been extra terrible. “An essay, I just finished an essay.”

He nods once. Maybe he feels bad for so thoroughly startling me into such a rambling, because the corner of his mouth tilts upwards. A soft smile adds even more grace to his features, I focus on the dimple that appears in his cheek. “An aggravating essay, I take it, considering the death glares you’ve been giving your laptop screen.”

I smile at his polite humor. “It’s for the harshest grader on campus. She took three points off of my first essay freshman year because I spaced my bibliography wrong.” 

He cringes in sympathy. “Good luck.” 

“Thanks,” I hum, proud of myself for not letting him know that I know who he is. The bus stops, I can see my doctor’s office behind a few paparazzi. “This is my stop.” 

Harry nods once, ducking his head slightly. A tiny part of me feels sympathy for him; from what I’ve gathered, he genuinely loves his fans and the relationship they have, but it must be draining to never have a moment of privacy. Especially when it’s people who care more about selling your picture than your mental health. 

I linger on the bus’s step, watching the men with large cameras look around. “Excuse me, are you guys looking for Harry Styles?” Most of the men disregard me, but one looks at me. “I know he’s near here because I’m a really big fan and my friend just texted that she saw him.” This gets me the attention I wanted. “He’s at Northfield--a cafe like three blocks down. I just know that if she got a picture with Harry in like a magazine or something she’d totally lose it--in a good way, and she’s been having a bad time so if you see her can you try to make it happen? Knowing her she’ll be at his side, she’s blonde, shortish hair.” 

The men seem skeptical, but I guess they realize that this is the best lead they have. I think the fact that I gave a reason to justify selling Harry out for no reason helped. They disperse together, heading at least three blocks away from Harry. I don’t know if I’ve actually helped him, but I hope I have. 

“Essay girl.” I freeze, half cringing. Did he hear that? That’s embarrassing. I consider darting away, but decide that would just make me cringe more. So I turn on my heels. “You...you forgot your phone.” 

He just saved my life. “Thank you.” I take my phone from his outstretched hand, ignoring the slight thrill that runs through me when our fingers brush. “You’re my hero--the last thing I needed today was to run all over the city searching for my phone.” I finish the awkward admission with a partial laugh. 

“Least I could do,” he mumbles, “especially considering what you just did.” 

...He did see that. “Oh um--it was nothing, I just kind of made a connection and assumed the only reason you’d be on a public bus is because you were trying to avoid some things, and you make really great music and a lot of people happy, so you deserve that break.” Why does it feel like I’ve been talking forever? “Anyways, thanks for the whole phone thing, and I hope I got them off your tail.” 

My joke seems to somewhat land. His lips part, like he’s planning on saying something else. A timer on my phone interrupts him. I instinctually look down--great, the alarm on my phone warning me that I’m only ten minutes away from being late. “I’m late.” I turn towards the bus’s exit. “I gotta go, but thanks again, and I hope you have a good day.” 

I disappear after that, still not sure that that whole thing wasn’t some kind of hallucination. Did I just meet Harry Styles? He...he gave me my phone. Harry Styles has touched my phone. I can’t wait to tell Gisa, she’ll lose it.

I’m still thinking about Harry Styles when I finally reach my OBGYN’s office. When I get there, things are a lot more hectic than I thought they’d be. Many people crowd the waiting area and the receptionist’s desk is clearly understaffed. Two young girls are trying to address multiple upset pregnant women and take phone calls at the same time, all while practically buried in a sea pf paperwork. Wow, I didn’t realize that transferring was such chaos. One of the girls waves me over and barely checks my name before shoving a form towards me. I fill out as quickly as possible. 

 I upload my essay quickly after checking in. Who knows, maybe Harry Styles’s blessing will get me an A? A third person in scrubs emerges from the back after a moment and ushers me into a room. I tell myself to focus on going over the facts I need for the test I have to take in a little over an hour. Or to focus on the fact that I just met Harry Styles. But instead, I feel my heavy eyelids fall shut. 

I don’t know how long I sleep, but I know that I wake up during the middle of a doctor’s sentence, “...I know I’m not your usual, so I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.” 

“Hm...Yeah, yeah I’m comfortable.” She nods once, her wide eyes slightly red. “But I do have a class today in like an hour, so I was wondering if this was going to take longer because of the office’s move?” 

“Oh, no,” she shakes her head. “Just because Dr. Rodriguez gave us no notice before deciding that she no longer wanted to work here...or in the country. Or even live in the US, despite the fact that we just signed a lease on a place together...” Tears well in the stranger’s eyes, pity settles in my stomach. 

“That sounds incredibly complicated, I didn’t mean to rush you.” 

She blinks twice, her expression blanking as she fights against the pain of what’s clearly a terrible break up. “No, no--you have every right. Today is your day and if..honestly, if you’re strong enough to go to a class after this, and do what you’re about to do by yourself, then I’m strong enough to get through today.” 

Um...didn’t realize a pap smear counted as something that needs moral support, but I’ll chalk it up to her heightened emotions. “Thanks.” 

She snaps on her medical gloves. “No, thank you for your patience. Now lay down.” 

I do as told, preparing for a sensation I haven’t often experienced. A moment passes and I know she’s started. She’s moving away from me much faster than expected. Oh--I guess pap smears are a lot shorter than I expected. 

“That’s it?” 

“Yep,” she hums, pulling her gloves off. “Now just take it easy, and hydrate.”

Weird...but that’s like general doctor advice. “Thanks!” 

--

I’ve never wanted to keep a secret from Gisa, but sometimes I really regret telling her I met Harry Styles. It’s been almost a month and I find my mind wandering back to the moment in which our fingers brushed more than I should. Sometimes I let myself wonder what he might have said if my phone hadn’t rang. I was probably just imagining the way his lips parted, but my ind refuses to let it go. 

“...You know it’s kind of sad, I read an interview in which he spoke about the fact that he has some genetic condition that makes it hard to have kids. He has so many godchildren, and I feel like he’d make such a great father.” 

I try to keep up with Gisa’s words, but the dull ache in my head makes it feel so far away. “Yeah...he seemed really patient.” 

Gisa nods, turning to face me. “You alright, you’re looking kinda green?” 

“Yeah...” I reach for my canvas bag. “I think I just...I probably just need some water.” 

My hand grazes the metal of my water bottle and then the corners of my vision blur into blackness. I sway, Gisa’s hand is on my shoulder...and then it all goes black. 

--

I sit uncomfortably on the hospital’s cot. Gisa is a traitor for telling my mom that I fainted. I knew she’d just drag me here--hispanic mothers, they either believe they can cure you with vic’s vapor rub or they want you in the ER. No in between. 

“I know you didn’t want another test, but you’ve been throwing up in the morning for days and now you’re fainting.” 

“Fainted,” I correct, “it happened once.” 

“C’mon, mija, it’s just one doctor’s appointment.” 

Speaking of, an ER nurse returns. “Fainting and nausea spells explained,” he says, glancing at his clipboard, “you’re pregnant.” 

My mom and I can’t help but exchange a look before bursting into laughter. Pregnant. If I’m pregnant then the second coming is here. “That’s impossible, I’m a virgin.” 

He glances at my mom, “maybe we should have this conversation in private.” 

“No, what you say in front of me you can say in front of my mom.” 

My mom raises an eyebrow. “Y/n, did you and that guy from your english class--” 

“No! No, we did not. I am a virgin and there’s no way I’m pregnant.” I glare at the nurse. 

He then ushers me to a bathroom so that I can provide a urine sample. After I’m finished, he shows me a pregnancy test strip. “Pink means pregnant.” I bite my tongue as he tests the strip in my sample. He pulls it out and it’s...it’s bright pink.

“I’m calling my doctor, because this has to be a mistake. It has to be like a hormonal thing.” 

“Exactly, pregnancy hormones.” 

I glare even harder, calling the doctor that I saw last week. “Hello, Dr. Ash? I was wondering if I could get a consultation because I’m in the ER and some crazy doctor is trying to tell me I’m pregnant.” 

Silence on the line for a long second. “...I actually cleared my calendar for you.” 

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 301: All My Todorokis

Previously on BnHA: We learned that when a bunch of superpowered villains are suddenly set loose with nobody around to stop them, things get fucked pretty quickly. Old Man Samurai and a bunch of other useless people decided to make “I pretend I do not see it” their new mantra, and resigned. Endeavor had a moment of despair on account of being crushed by the guilt of having ruined the lives of himself, his family, and basically everyone else in the entire world. For various reasons the heretical notion of “person who has done bad things feels sorry for doing them” sent fandom spiraling into a meltdown, so that was fun. The chapter ended with the entire Todoroki clan descending upon Enji’s hospital room to have a dramatic chat about Touya and All That General Fuckery.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “here’s the story of how Baby Touya slowly went insane trying to win his father’s love.” It’s a tale full of subverted expectations and heartbreaking inevitability, and also like twenty panels of the cutest fucking kids who ever existed on planet earth, who are so fucking cute that I can’t stop thinking about their cuteness even with all of the horrifying family tragedy unfolding around them. It is absolutely ridiculous how cute they are. Touya is out here pushing his tiny body past its limits because he inherited the same obsession as his dad and neither of them can put it aside even though it’s destroying them, and yet all I can think about is Baby Shouto’s (。･o･｡) face. Anyways what a chapter.

so I have to confess that even though I managed to avoid being caught off-guard by the early leaks, the number of people reblogging my Endeavor posts from earlier this week and using the tag “bnha 301” kind of gave me an inkling that this chapter will include more Tododrama lol. that said, I don’t know anything else about it, so we’re still good spoiler-wise

AHHHHH FLAHSBAKC AHHHH. omg I know I typoed the shit out of that, but I’m just going to leave it lol I think it’s fitting

holy shit holy fuck. so this is Rei and Enji’s first meeting, then??

yepppp, oh shit

so wait, I know this is not even the slightest bit important, but are they meeting at Enji’s home or Rei’s? because I always figured that Enji was the one with the super-Japanese aesthetic, but maybe that was Rei’s side of the family all along

(ETA: from what I found during my very brief google search, omiai meetings are often held at fancy hotels or restaurants, so maybe that’s what this is.)

there’s such a period drama feel to this setting. like it’s so outrageously formal fff how can anyone stand this kind of atmosphere though seriously

OH THANK GOD

I mean they’re still stiff af but at least they’re not rigidly sitting in seiza and staring at each other unblinkingly anymore lol. Enji’s actually got his hands in his pockets now. why is this somehow almost cute

oh damn it’s the flowers

Rei seems so subdued and it’s so hard to get any idea of what she’s actually thinking. I want to see her side of this dammit

but anyway, so at least from Enji’s perspective it seems like even though the marriage was arranged and he picked her because of her quirk, he still loved his wife and wanted to do right by her. the fact that he was watching her and noticed that she liked the flowers, and remembered that detail for all these years -- there’s a reason why Horikoshi’s showing us this. we know what’s going to happen later on; we know how much fear and violence and breaking of trust is coming up ahead, and while it may seem like this scene is serving to soften Enji’s character further -- which to be fair it is -- it also helps drive home the full impact of his abuse. that it’s so terrible not only because of the trauma of the abuse itself, but also because of the way it retroactively destroys all of the good things as well. this could have potentially been such a sweet scene, but it’s inescapably tainted by the knowledge of what’s to come, at least for me. and that’s just brutal

anyways, shit. is the whole chapter going to be like this?? feel free to toss in something I can actually make a joke about sometime, Horikoshi

oop, back to the present

omfg lol

“are you all right” “NO I’M NOT ALL RIGHT WHAT THE FUCK.” “oh, right, because of all the stuff that’s happened with me abusing you and you having a mental breakdown and being hospitalized for ten years and then our son coming back to life and killing thirty people, right, right. I almost forgot.” whoops

omfg you guys I’m loving this new and improved steely-eyed Rei. I’m loving her a lot

and what do you mean “part one” fkjds how long is this going to be. TOO MUCH DRAMA FOR ONE CHAPTER TO HANDLE

oh, hello

yeah I’ll say you did. didn’t seem to bother you much at the time, though

HMMMMMMMMMMMM

Dabi Is A Noumu intensifies even further. anyways though would you fucking look at this boy lounging on this moth-eaten couch doing his best DRAW ME LIKE YOUR FRENCH GIRLS impression wtf

Dabi what if you actually had killed him??? what would you feel?? satisfaction?? regret?? anything at all?? tell me your secrets goddammit

who are you talking to buddy

Fuyumi-chan, Natsu-kun (is it common for brothers to address each other as -kun?? can’t recall seeing that in many other anime, but hey), and “dot dot dot,,,,,, SHOUTO” lol thank you so much for this bountiful heaping of Tododrama Horikoshi we are blessed

AH, WHAT DID I SAY THE OTHER DAY

ULTIMATE MELODRAMATIC THEATER CHILD. “I’M JUST GOING TO LIE ON THIS COUCH SHIRTLESS AND ALONE AND MAKE SPEECHES TO MY FAMILY MEMBERS WHO AREN’T THERE AND SAY THINGS LIKE ‘WATCH ME IN THE PITS OF HELL’ WITH A STRAIGHT FACE BECAUSE NO ONE’S THERE TO JUDGE ME.” WELL JOKE’S ON YOU MISTER CHATTERBOX BECAUSE I AM IN FACT JUDGING THE SHIT OUT OF YOU LOL

(ETA: and on a more serious note, it’s interesting to see that “look at me”/”watch me” theme being used again though, because we see that same sentiment uttered repeatedly by the younger Touya in the flashback. well kid, you definitely got your wish at last. don’t know what else to say.)

OKAY HORIKOSHI HAS DECIDED THAT’S ENOUGH FUN, TIME FOR MORE FLASHBACKS

oh my sweet precious lord

just as cute as we left him. giving us a child this cute when we all know full well what’s going to happen to him is just unspeakably cruel though

HOMG

I’m fucking speechless. you broke me, congratulations. what am I even supposed to do with this

I can’t get over this. moving forward my life will be split into two distinct parts, B.P. (Before the Pout) and A.P. (After the Pout)

and meanwhile there’s ALL THIS BACKGROUND ANGST BUILDING UP, AND I CAN’T EVEN FOCUS ON IT. Touya’s arm and cheek are covered in bandages (I’m guessing this is shortly after that “ouch!” panel we got some chapters back), and Enji is deliberately avoiding training with him because he doesn’t want him to hurt himself further. I can’t fucking get over the irony that all this time everyone thought Touya had died because Enji pushed him too far in his training, and it turns out that it’s the opposite -- the tragedy ultimately happened because he didn’t want to push him. but I’m jumping ahead of myself though I guess

by the way,

remember this?? just wanted to remind you that it exists just in case you forgot

so now someone is talking and basically saying that Touya is the exact opposite of what Enji was hoping for when he decided to start playing with quirk genetics

-- okay hold up

...lol no, never mind. for a second I thought “holy shit he looks kind of familiar WHAT IF IT’S UJIKO OMG” before I remembered that Enji would have recognized him during the hospital capture mission if that was the case. so NEVER MIND, PROCEED

IMAGINE THAT, ENJI DOESN’T QUITE SEEM SATISFIED WITH THIS SUGGESTION OF QUITTING NOW

(ETA: how the fuck did this man go around saving 62 towns in a single day what even is All Might.)

[clicks tongue several times] trouble a’brewin’

MEANWHILE BABY TOUYA HAS UNFORTUNATELY INHERITED HIS DAD’S STUBBORN STREAK

KLDIHWOEIJFL:KSDJ

!!!!!!!!!!!

oh my god. oh my god. what is this chapter. WHAT IS IT

so now Touya is all “YOU JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND MY MANLY DESIRE TO BURN MYSELF ALIVE” well you got her there champ

THEY’RE TOO CUTE. OH MY GOD. HIS FURIOUS LITTLE TEARS. HER CHUBBY LIL FACE. HIS STUBBY LIL FISTS. SOMEONE HELP ME

also are they just home alone lol or what. “hey Touya, you’re what, like six now?? do us a favor and look after your baby sister for a couple hours for us would you? make sure not to set yourself on fire or anything.” WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG!!

now it’s nighttime and Enji and Rei are arguing, presumably about his decision not to train Touya anymore

whew. okay. so, a couple of things here

1. first of all I think this conclusively shows that Enji really was trying to do the best he could for Touya. he stopped training him as soon as he realized it was hurting him, but Touya was still determined so he tried to make it work anyway, and even visited doctors to try and figure out if there was anything they could do. then, once they were absolutely sure that it wasn’t going to work, he tried multiple times to explain to Touya why they had to stop. he didn’t just abandon him out of the blue, which is really important to note. “no matter how much I tried telling him...”

so yeah, that debunks another common fandom accusation. so by the time he finally makes this decision, which we all know is going to turn out horribly, it’s basically because he’s already tried everything else he could think of. which, by the way, still doesn’t mean he handled this right. but at the very least he was taking Touya’s feelings into account and he was trying, and he didn’t just abruptly toss his son aside (at least not yet)

2. buuuut, then there’s this panel right below all that

which is the other side of it. if he’d just quit like the doctor person advised him to, that would have been the end of it. Touya would still have been upset, but he would have eventually gotten over it and the family would have moved on and possibly even been happy. but what happens next happens because Enji can’t let go. he still has this maddening urge to surpass All Might, and so he and Rei keep having more children, and then Shouto is born, and Enji finally has a kid he can start projecting all of his hysterical ambitions onto once again, and everything starts spiraling out of control soon after

though p.s. none of that is Shouto’s fault though!! he’s one of the few good things to come out of this whole mess and I’m very happy that he exists. the tragedy is that his dad fucking lost his mind over his quirk and fucked everything up. but that’s on him, not Touya or Shouto

anyways, SLKFJLSHGLKJL

I CAN’T FUCKING TAKE THIS YOU GUYS??? LOOK AT THAT LIL BUTTON OF A NOSE??? I’M LOSING IT HERE???

AND TOUYA JUST SEEMS DEVASTATED OMG

because children aren’t stupid, after all. he understands that his dad is still looking to surpass All Might. and so he feels like a failure, and feels like his dad is trying to replace him because he wasn’t good enough. and even now, isn’t that what the adult Touya is trying to prove?? that he was good enough after all?? “I’ll show you what happens when you give up on me, dad”?? “I’ll show you what I can do”?? fuck my life fuck everything

AND YOU CAN SEE THE TOLL THAT IT’S ALL TAKING ON REI GETTING WORSE AND WORSE AS WELL OH GOD

really nice touch here with the panel outlines becoming all shimmery from the heat of Endeavor’s flames (and/or becoming more unstable as the family gets closer and closer to their breaking point). but man, Horikoshi I can’t handle this, please show us more cute kids or something I can’t

GKELKWFJLDKSHFLKL

WITTLE BABE. BEEB. BUBS. SMOL. lkj; oh ouch a piece of my heart just detached and latched onto him huh look at that

TODOROKI “I’M SO SMALL AND I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT’S GOING ON AND I DIDN’T ASK TO BE HERE” SHOUTO AHHHHH

crazy how they all just seem to know right off the bat lol. kid doesn’t even have object permanence yet, let alone a quirk. but do they care?? IT’S THE HAIR, RIGHT. WE’RE ALL THINKING IT, I’M JUST GONNA COME OUT AND SAY IT. they knew the minute they looked at him lol

AND MEANWHILE TOUYA IS OFF HAVING UNSUPERVISED TRAINING/CRYING SESSIONS IN THE MOUNTAINS OR WHATEVER, AND, UH OH

are those blue flames yet?? they seem pretty close

(ETA: this is one of the few cases where the manga being in black and white is infuriating lol.)

OH MY GOD AND STILL

so it’s not like he was so disinterested that he didn’t notice what was happening, and he was still trying to stop it and get through to him. trying to reassure him that it wasn’t the end of the world and there were other things he could do with his life, but this one particular thing just wasn’t going to happen

fucking hell. it’s agonizing seeing how close they actually were to fixing it. if he’d only said the right words, or if he’d realized at this point how destructive his obsession could be to his kids, and backed off from putting that same pressure on Shouto. we came so close to possibly having a happy ending

AND ALSO THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH ANYTHING BUT PLEASE LOOK AT HOW TOUYA IS LIKE THREE AND A HALF FEET TALL AND HIS DAD IS LIKE NINE AND A HALF FEET. Touya barely comes past his knees flkjlkg. the Todoroki household must have been so filled with like plastic stepstools to reach the bathroom sink and all the little baby toothbrushes, and baby gates to keep the kiddos out of the important grown-up rooms and stuff. and also days-old half-empty cups of water and stale crackers and hot wheels and my little ponies strewn everywhere

“BUT EVERYONE AT SCHOOL SAYS THEY’RE GONNA BE HEROES” a wild Deku parallel appears?? how bout that

I know this is like a pivotal moment in the Todo Tragedy and all, but fucking look at this lil dumpling

“sup bro, it’s me, the manifestation of your fears of inadequacy and lack of fatherly affections. a GAAA. ba-baAA-baa [gurgling baby sounds]”

OHHHHH IT’S THE SOUND OF MY HEART BREAKING OH NO

HE WANTS TO BE LIKE YOU ENJI. good lord somebody please just get this family some therapy

“DAD YOU IGNITED IT IN ME” flkjslkj nope, nope. not ready for this pain here

baby Shouto, would you like to weigh in on this affair? “DA!! ba-ga-daaa, [pacifier chewing noises]” oh my, you don’t say. so insightful for one so young

OH MY GODDDDDD

IT’S SO DRAMATIC BUT ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT ARE THE SHOUNEN WOOSH LINES SURROUNDING FOUR-MONTH-OLD SHOUTO LOL HE WAS LIKE THIS FROM BIRTH OH MY GOD I AM DYING HELP

SHOUTO YOU’RE RUINING THIS ENTIRE CHAPTER!?!?!

“yo, the fuck kind of family was I fucking born into” oh, son. if you only knew. IF YOU ONLY KNEW!!

(ETA: lmao I got so distracted by the ridiculous cuteness that I glossed over the fact that Baby Touya seems to possibly be aiming at him?? it’s hard to tell because he’s also super out of it from heatstroke and may just be losing control in his attempt to show off his upgrade.)

ANYWAY THAT’S THE END EXCEPT WHAT’S THIS LAST LINE OMG

ffffff. and we’re in for ANOTHER chapter of this next week?? MORE drama?? MORE BABIES?? MORE OF EIGHT-YEAR-OLD TOUYA’S SLOW DESCENT INTO MADNESS. MY HEART CAN’T TAKE IT, BUT ALSO YES PLEASE SIGN ME UP

[superhero--imagines]

Part 1 here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here!

A/N: I can’t always do tags since these parts are long but if you want to be tagged just lmk @thecrazytealady

* Honestly, everything feels so normal

* You’re sitting in the stands of a football stadium as a sea of graduates pass in front of you

* Well it’s mostly normal except for all the stares you get

* “You’ll get used to it” Kate tells you from your right side, you’re not sure when it happened but somehow you’ve become her favorite little member.

* “Sometimes we stare back to mess with them” Irina says from your other side with a teasing grin.

* Irina also seems to really like you, she’s probably you’re favourite

* While everyone else treated you like a child (which in a sense you are), she treated you like an adult

* You hope you can save her if things go exactly like they did in the book

* You’re hoping your close friendship with Edward changes things

* “Oh look there they are now-“

* And right on cue Alice was called first, then Edward

* An entire group of cheers erupt from your section, a few stands above you sits the entire Cullen clan

* Apparently the rest of them have already “graduated”, Alice and Edward are playing a year younger

* You catch him after the ceremony on the -pretty cold- field along with your-

* aunts?

* You’re not really sure what the official family structure is.

* “So what is this, your thirtieth time graduating high school?” You whisper to him after handing him his graduation present

* Some sheet music you know he’s been eyeing and a card that says “you only graduate once”

* You think he’ll appreciate the joke

* “It actually only my sixth” he grins, he so close you can feel a ghost of a breath on your ear

* You notice a couple of boys, adorning similar green graduation gowns staring at you. When you meet their eyes they hastily look away.

* “Hey Edward, what are those guys thinking right now?”

* He follows your line of sight and grins even wider

* “They’re thinking that it suddenly makes sense why I’m not interested in anyone at this school when I’m already dating someone as beautiful as you”

* And if you were anyone else you might have realized how you and Edward look when you’re together to everyone around you

* And it might have been the first sign that things have started to veer of the future you imagine

* But of course you don’t, and you say:

* “Really? You want me to believe two teenage boys used such eloquent language?”

* He laughs

* “I might have picked some.. kinder diction.”

* You both laugh, another private joke that would be referenced for years

* “And where’s my graduation gift?” Alice asks, you hand over a brightly wrapped package, it’s a magic 8 ball and a Chanel scarf, Edward already read Alice’s mind and assured you she would love it.

* “That’s hilarious” she says with a laugh, she hasn’t even opened the package, already seen what’s inside with her gift.

* “Are you coming to our graduation party tonight?” When she notices your confused expression she gives a pointed look to Edward. “You didn’t invite them?”

* Edward rolls his eyes

* “I didn’t think it would be that fun,” he looks to you and explains. “It’s just a party Alice likes to throw to help us fit in better.”

* “It also to commemorate graduating and going to college, which is Infinitely more fun.” She grins, a hand on Edwards shoulder

* He turns his attention to you, his mouth quirked in a lopsided smile

* “Do you want to go?”

* The party scene in Eclipse sure looked fun

* “Sure, sounds like a fun time.”

* It’s decided you’ll drive up with Edward after they all split up, and go to the party with him.

* You’re telling Kate and Irina when they get a look on their face

* “Is that not okay?” You wonder if it’s about Tanya, and how maybe she doesn’t like you spending so much time with Edward.

* “No it’s fine it’s just... will you be alright with all those humans?”

* You had done fine on the stands, but a house party was different, you guess it’s probably easier to eat someone when there are so many dark corners and so many suspects to pick from

* You wrinkle your nose, honestly you don’t get what the big deal is, sure they smell kiiinda nice, but the scent is comparable to one of your deers.

* Also, who knows where these people have been and what they’ve been eating. The thought of eating an alcoholics blood makes you scowl.

* “I think I’ll be fine” Irina laughs, and rests a hand on your shoulder

* “We’ll tell the others, do you want me to bring you a drink later on?”

* You shake your head, you ate a little bit more since you were going to be around so many people today.

* “I should be fine, Edward will probably drive me home, but if not I can always run”

* You always forget you can run faster than a car now.

* “I doubt Edward will refuse the opportunity to spend more time with you.” Irina smirks and you roll your eyes

* You’re both just friends, stuck in family’s where everyone seems to be in a relationship (except for you that is)

* There’s only so much you can take watching Eleazer and Carmen’s pda

* “I’ll see ya later” you excuse yourself to find Edward, who seems to be talking to a group of boys

* “So what’s their deal, are they your cousin or something?”

* “Um... they’re a family friend”

* Looks like Edwards confused about your family structure too

* “They look older are they in college?” Another asks, Edward hesitates, well you are older but you’re not really in school

* “Are you hooking up with them?” Edward winces

* “No we’re not close like that.”

* You decide now is a good time to intervene in the conversation

* “Hey, are you ready to go?” Edward looks relieved to see you

* “I’ll see you guys tonight at Alice’s party” he offers a polite smile before leading you towards his car

* When you’re finally out of earshot, you say

* “You know, I always thought we were the closest of friends” You think he’ll grimace at your teasing but instead he grins.

* “Do you enjoy being the subject of several teenage boys imaginations?”

* “I mean, it’s not-not a little bit flattering.”

* On the drive back to his house Edward takes you through town and points out every mundane landmark like you’re on a safari tour

* “And that is the grocery store I never visit, and next to it is the diner I had to pretend to eat food at during my mandatory “senior breakfast””

* “So what you’re saying is, this is the worlds’ most boring town.”

* “I would say boring adjacent, the town we’ll move to next doesn’t even have a major grocery store”

* He’s definitely talking about Forks.

* You must have killed quite a bit of time with your impromptu tour because when you get to the party it’s in full swing

* You and Edward stand in a corner and play your favorite game

* “Blonde girl in the corner.” He says

* Edward picks someone, and you have to guess what they’re thinking. You’re never right but it’s still funny

* “Hmmmm I’m going to say she’s thinking... ‘This is what all the hype was about? Can’t believe I’m wasting my Saturday night HERE.’”

* He laughs and shakes his head

* “She’s actually thinking about how the object of her affections hasn’t noticed her once, and has been spending all his time with someone else instead.”

* You totally miss the meaningful look Edward gives you.

* You make a face, unrequited love was the worst

* “Well that sucks, I wish there was some way we could help.” Edward only shrugs

* “They’re human problems, for us even if the person we love doesn’t love us back, we just wait a a decade or so, and they usually change their mind.” He grabs your untouched red solo cup

* “I’ll go get us some more drinks.” For a second you wonder if maybe Vampires can drink alcohol, but then you immediately deflate.

* Oh right, the human act, you almost forgot.

* You’re standing by yourself when the “unrequited love” girl from before approaches you, another girl with hair the color of caramel in tow

* “Hey, I haven’t seen you around before, do you got to our school?”

* Any person could see this was a hostile encounter

* anyone except you that is

* “Nah, I’m taking a gap year right now.”

* “Oh?” Miss. Unrequited lights up at that. “Didn’t get into your first choice school?”

* “No my parents died.” You say it causally, but they both freeze at that. So much has happened, colleges and your parents are the last thing in your mind. You notice the reaction though “It’s been a while though, so everything’s fine now”

* You give your best smile and the girl in front of you seemed flustered

* “How do you know Edward?” Miss. Caramel asks, while her friend takes a long sip from her cup.

* “Well- I guess he’s a family friend, but really I met him through Carlisle.”

* “Through Carlisle?

* “Dr. Cullen,” you quickly supply, to them he’s just the local handsome doctor. Not exactly someone who they’re on a first name basis with. “Yeah, Carlisle talked about Edward a lot when I was in the hospital.”

* Before you can scar either of these girls further, Rosalie appears by your side

* “Hey! Glad to see you made it!” She gives you a side hug and turns her amber eyes to the girls in front of you. “Amber, Bethany glad to see you. What are you guys talking about?”

* Both of the girls fall speechless in front of her, probably from her beauty you guess.

* You still get the urge to shield your eyes when you look at Rosalie.

* “Edward.” Rosalie rolls her eyes

* “Of course, the most perfect man alive.” You snort at that.

* “Perfect my ass, I saw him snort drinking yesterday and he sprayed the whole counter top.” Rosalie raises a well groomed eyebrow

* “Really?” A smiles tugging on her lips

* “That’s not even the worst part, do you know he took 43 minutes to clean it up.”

* Rosalie laughs, and the other two look at you with awe.

* “Edward Cullen snorts?” The caramel Coloured hair one, Bethany asks.

* “To be fair I did say a pretty good joke”

* “What was the joke?” Amber asks, and you grin.

* “What did the vampire say to the girl?” They look at each other and shrug

* “What”

* “See you next month” The two girls don’t seem to think it’s good, but Rosalie is dying of laughter

* “He must have hated that!”

* “Oh I’m sure he did, that’s why I said it” Rosalie laughs even harder

* By the time Edward comes back, it’s basically just a two way conversation with you and Rosalie roasting the ever loving crap out of Edward, with two humans eagerly watching

* “One time while we were eating Edward just kept complaining about how “existence is agony and how none of us have a soul” like dude, we’re eating, could you just chill for a second please?” Rosalie says and you laugh

* “I have the perfect Edward impression” you clear your throat and set your face to the best “I’m constipated and existence is agony” face you can manage “I’m an outsider. No one can understand me. No one has thoughts like I do. Existence is agony”

* if Rosalie could die she would have died of laughter, she’s hunched over and every time you think she’ll stop laughing she starts another wave.

* “To be fair, I don’t think anyone has thoughts like mine” You turn to see Edward behind you, he’s actually got an amused smile as he hands you a red solo cup.

* “It’s Henrietta,” he whispers in your ear. “ I figured all the laughing might have made you thirsty”

* “For an outsider like yourself, that’s awfully kind of you.”

* The laughing did make you thirsty, it also explains what took him so long. You wonder if he ran all the way to your house to get you a drink.

* Rosalie doesn’t say anything just grins as she watches you two, Edward’s eyes flick from you to her, and you wonder what he’s experiencing right now

* You’re not going to lie, his narrative of mind reading was your favourite part of midnight sun

* “Do you want to dance?” Well that question came out of nowhere.

* “Sure”

* Queue you and Edward awkwardly waltzing on the makeshift dance floor

* “Who taught you how to waltz?” Edward asks as you step on his feet yet again, you’re glad he’s a vampire and can’t feel pain.

* “You. Right now. I’m learning from the school of life experience.” You grin and he rolls his eyes

* “Here,” he picks you up, and places your feet on top of his. “Better?” You nod and laugh

* “They’re kind of cute right?” Rosalie says to Amber and Bethany, a twinkle in her eyes. Amber sighs.

* “Yeah they are.”

* Rosalie feels kind of bad. She didn’t mean to rub it in her face, but she doesn’t like anyone being mean to you. She already kinda liked you from The game night , and after tonight she REALLY likes you. It’s nice to have someone else on the “roast Edward squad”

* “Oh look, it’s Bradley from the swim team, should we go over and say hi?” Bradly was definitely single, and Rosalie loves playing matchmaker “Sure”

* Edward drives you home at the chaste time of 11:30

* “Did you have a good time tonight?” He asks, walking you to the front door. Ever the gentleman.

* It’s not like a thing alive could hurt you anymore.

* “Yeah it was really fun!” He let’s out a sigh of relief and a nervous smile.

* “That’s good, you’ve been seeming kind of... off lately so I was worried”

* Ah, so he had noticed. You had been feeling off lately. Only four more years with him at most until he moved somewhere far away.

* “Yeah, I’m just a little jealous I guess.”

* “Jealous of what?” His eyebrows thread together. And you sigh.

* “You get to go to college and I can’t.”

* You really are jealous about that, While you’re stuck in the house, Edward will get to move forward and make all sorts of relationships and memories

* His mouth purses, and you feel bad. You shouldn’t have said anything, there’s nothing he can do about it after all.

* “Ah, don’t worry about it, I’m just glad to be here with people who care about me.” That only makes him frown more. But he offers you a small smile.

* “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He says and then he does something really unexpected:

* He kisses your forehead, before retreating back to his car. You watch his car wind away down the circle driveway from the porch. A hand on your forehead where his lips touched and a flutter in your heart.

* Man, Edward was so unintentionally smooth, no wonder Tanya was still hung up over him

* Wait, was Tanya still hung up over him?

* Somehow you found her behavior not consistent with someone with unreciprocated feelings

* The days pass on by, Edward’s around more now because it’s summer break.

* Likewise trips to the Cullen residence are also more frequent because it’s summer break

* You oddly enough spend a lot of time with Rosalie, you mostly roast Edward but occasionally you reminisce about human stuff

* “What do you miss the most?” She asks and you think for a minute

* “Probably Italian food, maybe alcohol” She let’s out a moan

* “Oh my god, how good does mushroom ravioli in a creamy Marsala sauce sound?”

* “Good enough to kill for”

* By extension you also get close to Emmett, but in a totally different way

* “Alright hit me with everything you’ve got!”

* “Uh are you sure about this Emmett?”

* You’re both in a clearing about thirty feet apart

* “Yeah, just show me what you’re made of” He giving you a wicked grin, no doubt glad to have someone new to spar with.

* You shrug, he is asking for it

* He doesn’t even make it a foot forward before he crumples to the ground. You’ve been holding back so long, it almost feels good to not have to contain all your body’s grief

* You reel it back in when he taps out. You expect him to look at you like you’re a monster but he just grins

* “You’re really something else kid”

* You even get close to Esme who assists you in drawing up a schematic for a barn, and Jasper helps you build it.

* “I think the door should go here” he tells you

* “But then it would be facing the fence and that doesn’t seem right”

* He scratches his head and you stare at the architect sketch in your hands

* “It’s supposed to be right here” Alice tells you, already searching through the future for the correct placement.

* And of course you and Edward continue your piano cat and mouse game, where you each start a piece and wait for the other to catch up to your playing.

* Maybe it’s because things are going so well that you can’t help but wonder what went wrong with Tanya and Edward

* So one night, when you’re sitting together in the library, you ask her

* “Tanya why do you hate Edward” She sputters

* “I don’t hate him!” You raise a skeptical eyebrow and she sighs “it’s just- it’s embarrassing !”

* She tells you about how Carlisle had told her about his son, and how he was the last to be without a mate, and was very depressed

* “I thought of it like I was doing a service you know, we would date for some time and have a brighter perspective on this life.”

* You can already guess how this story ends, but you ask “So what happened?” She huffs

* “Well he flat out rejected me, told me I wasn’t his type, can you believe that? A forever 17 year old telling ME I’m not his type.”

* Yeah for a woman like Tanya who was every man’s ultimate fantasy that does seem pretty mortifying

* “Is it-“ you meet her eyes “is it okay that I’m friends with him then?”

* Her eyes soften and she beckons you into a hug

* “Of course it is little one,” she kisses the top of your head “and if it ever happens to grow into more than that that’s okay too.” You wrinkle your nose

* “I wouldn’t bet on that Tanya.” She rubs your shoulder

* “Well you never know, and if that happens, and for some reason he’s lost his mind at tells you you’re not his type don’t take it personally, there’s something seriously wrong with that boy.” You laugh

* The days pass by in a blur.

* Edward starts college studying veterinary science, and every day he comes back and teaches you what he learned

* “Sometimes I feel like I’m getting more out of this than you” he tells you as you do his homework

* “It be like that sometimes”

* You start experimenting with other animals blood, mostly chickens, ducks, and geese.

* You also have a moose now so that’s cool

* After many faithful years Henrietta passes away. You stayed in the barn with her all night, and planted a pine tree over grave.

* “All things die in the end huh?” You whisper as you stand over the first deer you befriended, and Eleazer rubs your shoulder

* “Not us” he whispers

* “Not us” you repeat

* You and Edward are lying next to each other in your bed, both of you pretending to sleep

* “What was it like when you turned?” Edward’s the one break the silence. He always is when you do your dreaming sessions

* “It was... nice” it really was, the venom was warm like a blanket, lulling you into a peaceful last sleep. This surprises him.

* “Are you some kind of masochist?”

* “Well what was it like for you?” You roll your eyes. He goes on a long descriptive tangent, but in short: it was absolute agony.

* “Well that’s weird, I wonder if Alec had some kind of special venom or something.” He flinched at the mention of Alec but doesn’t say anything else.

* The days pass on, just as they always have, but something starts to feel off. Both in your household and in the Cullen’s house. Some sort of tension

* You think about asking Edward or Eleazer about it, but decide against it.

* Maybe you’re just being paranoid

* One day you’re getting blood from the kitchen, when you notice the entire coven is sitting on the kitchen table

* Weird, but maybe they do this all the time and you just never noticed.

* “(Y/N) can you come here for a moment?”

* Well crap

* They all ramble over each other for a few minutes, and you only catch bits and pieces of what they’re saying

* “Everyone here loves you-“

* “It won’t be forever-“

* “Carlisle might even get you a blood bag or two-“

* “Enough!” Tanya roars and immediately the others fall silent, she looks at you with warm eyes and a kind smile

* “(Y/N), the Cullen’s are leaving,” ah, so it’s already time for them to go, Tanya explains how the Cullen’s move around more often than your coven does, on account of Carlisle’s job. Well you knew this was coming. It was nice while it lasted

* “-And that’s why we think you should go with them”

* Wait what.

* “You want me to leave?”

* “No of course not!” Irina shouts, wide eyed, she’s sitting the closest to you. “It’s just-“

* “We see the way you look at Edward,” Eleazer says. Oh not this again, how many times do you have to say it. YOU BOTH ARE JUST FRIENDS.

* “Like you want what he has.” He finishes

* Oh

* “We’re too late in the cycle to send you to school, Irina and Kate have already gone, and it will be another ten years before we decide to move.” Carmen says, her teeth digging into the flesh of her lip. “A lot of things could happen in ten years,”

* The Volturi could want you back on ten years

* “so we think you should go with the Cullen’s and get an education and have a normal life-“

* “Normal-adjacent,” Kate interjects, because life was never going to be completely normal for you ever again. Carmen grins,

* “Normal-adjacent life, you’ll get to have friends, and you could study whatever you want, you don’t have to learn secondhand from Edward.”

* “And you can come back whenever you want!” Kate reassures. “If you decide you don’t like it, and that it’s not what you want, you can always come back, we’ll be right here.”

* They all stumble over each other to reassure you that it’s your choice, and if you decide to stay that’s fine too. But there’s only one question on your mind

* “Do the Cullen’s already know about this?” The table falls silent.

* “Yes, they do.” Tanya says

* “And what do they think about the arrangement?” All eyes trail to Eleazer, so he was the go between for your Covens

* “I think they’re all pretty excited, Carlisle wanted you from the start.”

* Carmen sucks her teeth and lightly slaps him on the arm. “What it’s true, you know Esme’s been cross with him ever since she met them, she wants you too.”

* They’re all looking to you waiting for an answer. You’re not sure what the right thing to do is.

* You’re not stupid, you know things have changed from the original story line, you know the Volturi isn’t going to want Bella as much now that they have you.

* But still... you do want an education, a chance to do everything the way you always imagined

* You also kind of want to see Edward and Bella’s love story play out. Especially now that he’s your friend

* Also you think you should really deter him from watching her sleep, that crap was creepy as hell

* You sigh, there’s really only one choice

* “I’ll go with the Cullens’.”

[squidproquoclarice]

Yeehawgust Day 26: Vultures Circling

August 1870

Gerhardt’s Pass, Oregon

Beatrice wasn’t sure whether it had been one day or two since the doctor had come.  She’d seen the look in his eyes, heard the hushed tones with which he murmured to Lyle over in the corner, and with Lyle cursing as he left the wagon and the pallet where she lay, she’d known what she already felt deep in her bones.  

The fever and the pain that had once consumed her had faded, felt now at some peculiar remove like hearing music from another room.  It would all be over soon, and that was a relief.  The vultures might be circling, so to speak, and she’d seen so many of them in the five years since they’d arrived in America.  She felt them watching her now just at the edge of her vision, not certain whether they were real or phantoms, and not certain whether it mattered.  Exhausted as she was, she could only accept it.  This was her end.

A part of her wondered whether she had caused this by her thoughts.  The nervousness and sometimes despair over being pregnant again, worrying what she would do.  David and Arthur both had readily crossed Lyle’s temper, for all David had been just a baby yet when he died.  Having lost two already, she knew the signs.  But this time, the bleeding hadn’t stopped.  Maybe it was being four months along this time that had done it.

We go together then, you and me, she thought towards that child that would never be, now finally able to offer them nothing but love and tenderness rather than having it mingled so heavily with trepidation and fear.  Perhaps we shall see David, and your other brothers or sisters.

But peaceful as that notion was, that still left Arthur.  He’d be alone with Lyle after this.  Lyle had gone to town hours ago, awkwardly grunting something about getting supplies.  She suspected it was only that he couldn’t sit here and watch her die, and that he’d be at the saloon nursing his sorrow.  Hard-handed and angry as he sometimes was, there was a peculiar vulnerable and tender streak in him all the same.  She was only thankful Lyle had taken Arthur with him.  He’d chased Arthur off most of the time since Beatrice took to bed, growling for him to go find something useful to do.  Sparing him the experience of it, she supposed.  She thanked him for that.  

She’d managed to talk to Arthur last night, though, when he’d crept in after Lyle went to sleep.  Given him the portrait of her taken earlier that year in Wyoming, and showed him the papers she’d hidden behind it.  Papers neither of them could read, but papers that would hopefully be the key to a better future all the same.  The ones that officially made him an American boy, not just another immigrant child.  He would belong here.  He already sounded far more American than Welsh, and she was grateful for that.  She could only hope he’d have the chances she’d wanted for him, even if she wouldn’t be here to see it.      

In the end, that was all she could do for him.  It seemed so little, and she was afraid for him all the same.

Hearing the creak of someone climbing in the wagon, she couldn’t help her surprise.  Lyle had come back so soon?  No, that couldn’t be.  But she heard footsteps approaching, and she heard the scrape of glass and the hiss of a match, saw the brightening behind her closed eyes as someone lit the lantern that had gone out awhile ago.  It hadn’t mattered to her, but now that there was light again, she opened her eyes to look at who had come to call.

She didn’t know either of them by sight, fair-haired and well past her own twenty-eight years. Neighbors?  No, they were far from anyone.  Lyle had made certain of it.  Who else would simply climb up into the wagon like this?  KInd strangers, perhaps.  “Are you looking for Lyle?”  It always seemed to come down to that.  She closed her eyes again.  “He isn’t here just now, and I’m sorry for whatever he’s done, but I’m afraid we don’t have much for the taking.”  Money ran through her man’s fingers like water, fast as his quicksilver dreams of riches.

“Should we...”  The woman spoke, her voice soft. 

She was too tired for this.  “Are you missionaries, then?  I suppose the saving of a soul becomes even more important at the very end.  There’s no need of that.  I’ve made what peace I might with my God, I assure you.”  Even if she’d come so far from the girl who’d attended chapel so faithfully back in Aberdare.

The man finally spoke up, his deep voice low and gentle.  “No.  You don’t need to worry about missionaries.”  The words in Welsh, no less, and the familiar lilt of it lifted her spirits in spite of herself.  “Mam, it’s me.  It’s Arthur.”

Now that snapped her to attention, and she opened her eyes, finding she had some fury to spare yet for someone who’d tease her like this as she lay there dying.  But she saw those eyes looking at her with a sad, knowing tenderness--that familiar blue-tinted green, the eyes she saw whenever she chanced to have a mirror.  The ones she saw too every day in her boy, her Arthur.  His hair--it was dusted with grey, yes, but the same dark blond as hers.  Lyle’s brows for certain, and something of the cast of his cheekbones.

Her boy had just turned seven last month, and yet she’d swear he also sat here beside her now, a man of at least forty, perhaps fifty.  She looked at him, and something in her knew him, something deeper than blood and bone, an echo within the soul.  “So you are.”  She didn’t know how it could be so, only that it was.  She drank in the sight of him.  Such a large man, tall and broad.  He hadn’t gotten that from Lyle, perhaps instead from her own father Dylan, such a large man he’d been permanently stooped long before he died from working in the cramped mine tunnels.  Seeing the marks of age on him, the lines etched into his face, and the scars--the small nick on the bridge of his nose, another on his right cheek, and a large one on his chin only somewhat hidden by a short-cropped beard.  Child-Arthur was healing a similar cut on his nose even now, earned by tumbling off the wagon while playing out a week ago, and by the look of it she’d known it would scar, just as it had on this man.  She glanced past him to the woman.  Tawny hair, a riot of freckles, amber eyes, a large scar on her right brow.  Watching Beatrice just as carefully as she was watched.  She asked, speaking in Welsh and managing some good humor, “Well, my boy, who is this you’ve brought with you?”  But she already suspected.

If she hadn’t already believed, that shy smile, that half-lowering of his gaze, would have told her.  “This is my wife.  Sadie.”

“Pleasure to meet you.”  Her Welsh was less polished, her accent more obvious to Beatrice’s ear, but it surprised her all the same to hear it.  Had Arthur taught her?  There were a thousand other questions.

But she licked her lips, needing now to ask the important question: “Why have you come?  And...how?”  She switched back to English for it.  He was an American, her boy, and she would have him be so to her at the end.  She’d fought hard for that.  It was good he hadn’t forgotten his Welshness entirely, but some things needed to be kept close and secret.  She knew that full well. 

“How?  I don’t know for sure.  There’s some red-headed fella named Sinclair who’s gonna have some explanations for this.”  He leaned in, and reached out to take his hand in hers.  A large hand, work-roughened, so unlike the small hand she still took sometimes to hold onto him in crowds and the like.  “Why?  That’s a question that’s got more answers than I know what to do with, really.  Cause I...”  He sighed, shook his head, and the aching look in his eyes told her too much.

“I know there’s no return from this, <i>fy ngwash i</i>.  It’ll be soon enough.  I knew it last night when I gave you those papers.  Did you have the use of them?”

“Sort of.  We ended up in Canada, so uh, proving I was born in Wales actually helped us there.”

“Not America, then?”

“There was better land in Canada.”

“So you’re a farmer?”  She couldn’t help but brighten at that.  She’d wanted something like that for him.  Something peaceful, gentle, nothing like Lyle’s life.

“Horses, mostly.  Some sheep, cattle, and the like.  It’s a good place.  A pretty good life.  And the rest, well…”

“You’d best tell her, Arthur,” Sadie said, her voice full of the twanging accent she’d heard in New Austin and some parts of Texas.  “She’ll see it eventually anyhow.”

He sighed, shoulders sagging.  “I reckon you will at that.  It weren’t...all what you hoped for me, Momma.  Daddy ain’t gonna live but another four years past this.  Gets hanged for horse theft in San Francisco just after Christmas.  After that, a lot happened.  And it took me a long time to get things right.”

“Then tell me how it was, son.”  She heard the tone of both inflexible command and gentle invitation in her words, and knew it for the way she spoke to him sometimes as a mother, asking to know the truth of something.  Usually when he’d done some petty mischief or theft that she knew was Lyle’s influence on him.  You must tell me, and perhaps I’ll tell you that it was wrong and why, but I won’t hate you for it.  Because I love you enough to want you to know what’s right.  She saw that conflict in him already, a boy who could steal candy from the store and shrug about it, but who’d come home the next day taking a beating to save a stray cat from being kicked to death by some older boys.

So he told her.  And perhaps it wasn’t the worst she could imagine after hearing Lyle was dead when Arthur was eleven.  But it made for no pretty picture.  Hearing he’d been taken in by criminals, and ones far better and more sophisticated than Lyle could ever be, something broke within her heart.  She’d wanted so much better for him.  But even as he didn’t quite look at her, he kept talking.

He told her of the gang he’d been in, of seeing no other life or future for himself.  Told her of a little boy named Isaac, her first grandchild.  You’ll meet him someday, long before you should.  He’s such a good kid.  I know you’ll love him, and he’ll love you.  Told her of nearly three decades of mistakes and failures after this.  She might have thought it was a life of only regrets, but then he told her of a new life he’d made, of Sadie, of Canada and the children who had lived, grandchildren she would never see: Beatrice, named for her.  Matthew.  Susanna.  Andrew.  

She felt that pull, as if being summoned.  Light fading, like a fire dimmed now beyond embers.  Arthur must have seen it as well, because he stopped telling her about little things, and reached out to take her hand.  Beatrice felt someone else take her other hand--Sadie, then.  “I don’t exactly know how we got here,” he said quietly.  “But I know how it was that day.  I came back with Daddy and you was gone already.  And...that always stayed with me.  That I wasn’t there.  And I know how it is.  Nobody ought to die alone like that.”  There was some kind of knowing weariness to his voice at that, a question she would never be able to ask and he would never be able to answer for her.  “So here we are.”    So much that would be left unsaid, but no matter.  She would see in time.  She would see all of it, and there was comfort to it, because now she knew her boy would be all right in the end.  That he would remember her too, that he loved her.  That put her fear to rest, and so now she could rest.  There were no vultures now, only the final words of love and farewell spoken, and the reassurance of the hands holding hers as everything faded into peace. 

[peralta-guaranteed]

hc of jake and amy hand holding before dating (i’m convinced they did a few times before they ever dated) and also in the beginning of their relationship + getting teased by the squad 🥰

(this has definitely turned out far more emotional than you’d probably thought, anon, but I don’t make the rules when it comes to fic inspiration)

Amy Santiago is sitting in a booth at Shaw’s, laughing at something one of her friends has said, and she feels a warm hand slip into hers under the table. Jake Peralta is laughing next to her, too, but then he’s also smiling at her only, and his hand wrapped around hers squeezes three times. It hits her like a brick to the face, those three little squeezes. She finally understands them.

-*-

He’s lying in a hospital bed, and Amy thinks she’s never seen something more unsettling than a quiet Jake Peralta. The only sound in the room is the beeping of some monitors he’s hooked up to, and the only movement is his chest rising slow and steady. Something it didn’t do about two hours ago, when she was kneeling over him in some alley and screaming while the medics finally arrived and brought him back. It was a fairly ‘minor’ injury in the end, one bullet wound that the doctor’s had to close up, but it had hit some sort of vein that was important and that lost a lot of blood and that stopped his heart for the few moments she remembers stretching like hours in her mind. She doesn’t remember much else, especially not the medic’s or doctor’s explanations. They’d taken her along in the ambulance, because she was his partner, and she was allowed to sit in the hospital room he was recovering in now, because she was his emergency contact, too. She could’ve been nothing after today. Because the bullet from that gun wasn’t aimed at Jake before he pushed her to the side.

Amy looks down at her hands, folded in her lap, pinching each other to remind her she’s awake, she’s here, and so is Jake. Not awake, but here. Still here. They’re squeaky clean, her hands, because she’s spent a good fifteen minutes in the hospital public toilets scrubbing them free of his blood after he was rushed into surgery and she was left behind, alone in the waiting room, her sensible grey pantsuit coloured red all over her arms. She had a list of things to do in her head - contact Captain McGintley to follow the chain of command, and Terry so something would actually get done. Figure out how and who can transport Peralta home and take care of him, if he gets to go home. (He will. He has to. She will take him.) Call Rosa to find out if they booked the perp properly, and that they add assault with a deadly weapon to his rep sheet (not murder, although that’s what he did, that’s what happened). But she couldn’t do any of that, because she was still shaking, her heart was still racing, and all she could see was his blood on her hands, warm and sticky and dark and drying into a rotten brown shade already. So she washed them clean, and then scrubbed some more, and some more, until she felt as red and raw as the wound in his chest had looked in the ambulance when they got his shirt off. (The jacket of her suit is rotting away in the toilet trashcan now, and she’s shivering ever so slightly in only her short-sleeved blouse, but it is clean and there is not a hint of Jake’s injury anywhere anymore, except in his gaunt cheekbones and the pale colour of his face, and the silence of the room.) His hand twitches while she’s staring at her own, and if it’s instinct or reflex of whatever that makes her reach out and grab it immediately, she doesn’t care. His hand is warm under hers, and it twitches again and then wraps its fingers around her and holds her, steady and calm. He blinks awake, a little disoriented, but then he focuses on her and - smiles.

“You’re okay.” He says, and that’s what breaks her in the end.

She doesn’t outright sob or anything, but she does let her head drop so her hair is hiding her face, hiding the tears he doesn’t need to see first thing after waking up from literal death. She feels his hand pull on her to make her look at him, though, and she can’t deny him, even if her tear-streaked face is probably not a good view.

“Hey, no- don’t-” He rasps, his voice still coming back, “I’m okay too.”

She laughs through her tears, a short little snort, but it helps calm her down - and him too, it seems, because he smiles again.

“You’re far more than just okay, Peralta.” She smiles back, and feels his hand tighten around hers, three little, but distinct squeezes.

-*-

She shouldn’t feel this nervous. She’s a cop, a detective. A good one. She’s done this before, and it’s never been nice, but it’s always something she’s gotten through.

But she fears tomorrow’s court date more than anything else in her life right now, which is why she’s trying to drown the thought of it at Shaw’s. The hangover will probably not be helpful with her witness statement that could possibly make or break this ruling, but her panic demands more alcohol. However, the next beer she orders at the bar is intercepted by a larger, more calloused hand than hers.

“Alright, Santiago, that last one was your sixth, and I really don’t need to deal with Seven Drink Amy tonight.” Jake says as he settles down next to her, hands the beer over to Rosa, who leaves them alone at the bar before Amy can whine and complain.

“I need that drink, Jake. It’s my only friend right now.” 

“We both know that’s just Six Drink Sadmy speaking.” He pats her arm as she spreads out over the slightly sticky bartop and whines some more.

“You’re worried about tomorrow.” He continues, reading her thoughts like he sometimes does, which is such an annoying thing he can do. His hand is still on her arm. “You don’t have to be.”

“That girl’s entire life is at stake. And the gang boss is going to kill me and her if he gets off-”

“He’s not going to get off. Not if you tell them exactly what you told the lawyers taking your written statement.”

“Says you.”

“Says Sofia.” There’s a weight to those words that hits her stomach, and it’s only partially the fact that a damn defense attorney is on her side. The other part of why those words from the woman Jake started dating just recently hurt her, she doesn’t want to think about. “Look, I’m gonna drive you home, you’re gonna take a hot shower to detox, then you’re gonna get your perfect 8 hours of sleep, show up at court tomorrow in your best, darkest pant suit, and rock this like you rock everything else.” His hand has wandered down her arm to her hand, now, flips it over to hold it, and it’s pure coincidence that their fingers spread and interlock, surely. “Okay?” He asks one more time, and she sighs.

“Teddy can pick me up-”

“Teddy’s at that conference, remember.”

Oh, right. Something that had been lost to memory between drink three and four, the fact that her boyfriend had booked himself into a seminar the week the court date was announced. It’s a really good one, he’d said, if she wasn’t already busy he would’ve asked her to join, too. Already busy. Regular Amy doesn’t get punchy a lot, and maybe it’s her closeness to Seven Drink Amy right now that makes her want to knock him out for that, but she felt that way when she helped him pack his luggage two days ago too, and she was stonecold sober then.

“Okay.” She nods and tries to get off of the barstool, wobbles quite heavily. “Take me home, Peralta.”

He snorts a laugh and obviously swallows down some sort of joke as he pulls her into a standing position, their hands still locked together. She thinks she imagines it at first, but even after she’s sobered up the next day, she remembers those three short, tight, almost painful squeezes before he let go and steered her to his car.

She doesn’t have much time to think about it, or about how she basically held hands with her best friend while both of their partners were out of town, either. Or how he helped her into her apartment and waited until she was showered and had downed some water and aspirin before tucking her into bed. She can’t think about any of that, because she has to get ready for court.

And when she sits down in the witness’ chair, the gang boss on the bench before her staring her down with murder in his eyes, she notices a set of dress blues in the otherwise thin crowd of people who were allowed in to watch the trial. Three rows down, Jake gives her a silent thumbs up when their eyes meet, and she feels the phantom of his hand again, squeezing hers three times before she begins to speak.

-*-

They’re gonna die. She’s certain. They’re gonna die in here, in this cramped little closet, wedged between some industrial shelving and a broken down sink.

Jake had pulled her in and locked the door behind him, squished her against the wall and himself against the door, and killed the radio on her shoulder as well as his own. The last thing they’d heard crackling through it was “four officers down”. Someone had fallen behind her when she ran for safety, and for a second she thought it had been Jake. That he was standing here now, almost pressed against her in the tight space she would usually panic in, that she could feel his erratic breath on her ear, his racing heart under her hands, was pretty much the only comfort she had left.

She wonders how long it’ll last.

The mission had been an absolute bust. They had expected a gang. They had not expected a well-armed mafia. And now officers were wounded, or dead, and they couldn’t use their radio to find out anything, for fear of being discovered. She can hear gunshots and shouts from further away, and it’s only her paranoia that make them sound as if they're getting closer, but Jake is listening just as intently. Amy thinks of Rosa and Charles, who were on the other side of the building. She thinks of Terry, who’s probably trying to reach any of them by radio from his station in the surveillance van. She thinks of Holt, and can’t see where he might be right now, still next to Terry or commanding whatever backup might be coming in or-

She feels Jake’s hand wrap around hers, still pressed against his chest, and realises that she’s been hyperventilating. If she gets any louder, she’ll give away their position. His forehead against hers is cold, colder than he usually is, clammy with sweat, but the simple pressure of it helps her focus. She can hear him breathe deep, slow, exaggerated, and understands that he’s doing it for her. He probably thinks she’s having a panic attack because of her claustrophobia, or maybe all things at the moment combined. He’s not that far off. She breathes with him, feels the air from their exhales swirl between the few spaces were they don’t connect. There aren’t many. If she looks up, she could kiss him. She’s not quite that sure that she’s going to die in here anymore, but she would definitely hate herself if she did and never found out what that felt like, or if her last kiss on Earth was really from Teddy the night before they broke up. But when she moves her head, she meets his eyes instead, pupils blown wide in the darkness around them. He looks scared and terrified, and his heart under their combined hands is still racing, and the last thing he needs is for Amy to confuse him before they go out in a hail of bullets, action-movie-style, which he’d probably love if it wasn’t so real right now. She wants to say something, anything to calm him down, but she can’t speak, and not just because there are footsteps approaching outside their door.

She feels his hand tighten around hers, three times, faster than before. And then he pulls her into a close hug when the door behind his back opens to reveal blinding light, and she realises he’s shielding her, has been ever since he pushed her first into this storage space. He only lets go when they both hear Terry’s voice, and the Captain’s, the first telling them they are safe, the second immediately trying to update them on the situation with the SWAT team. He holds her hand a second longer than the rest of her, and the three squeezes that follow are far softer and slower than the ones before.

-*-

Amy Santiago and Jake Peralta are sitting in a booth at Shaw’s, laughing at something one of their friends has said, and she feels his hand slip into hers under the table. For only a split second, she’s tempted to pull her hand away. It’s still so new and shaky and unsure, their whole thing, yet at the same time it isn’t. It’s been growing for so long, between them and around them, it feels like it’s always been there. But the rest of the squad is still pulling excited faces whenever they get a little closer, Charles still squeals at every mention of their ‘evenings together’, and Rosa has rolled her eyes so hard she almost strained a muscle the first time she heard Amy refer to Jake as ‘babe’ in front of her. It’s all a little bit embarrassing, and sometimes she wishes they’d stuck to just one of their rules, of not telling anyone until they figure it out. But then she wonders, what was there left to figure out? She was with Jake, and she wanted to be with Jake, and deep down, she could see none of that change at any point in time. Forever, possibly.

Charles is still talking, riding the wave of getting their laugh, but then Jake’s smiling at her only, and his hand wrapped around hers squeezes three times. It hits her like a brick to the face, those three little squeezes. She finally understands them. She remembers them from before, from tense moments and situations of fear, from where he’s been there for her at the worst parts. Holding on tight and feeling the three little bursts of pressure, only wondering a long time later if he did it on purpose, or if it was some sort of reflex.

She feels it again now, and she can finally hear it.

I. Squeeze. Love. Squeeze. You. Squeeze.

[kyle-valenti]

burnout only feels like burning

2.7k / Summary: kyle valenti doesn't have the same quarantine as his friends; an exploration of kyle's trauma during covid as a doctor. (tw depression & other triggers you’d imagine with this subject)

read & comment/ ao3

A little like the virus itself, Kyle’s relationship with his mask begins with worry, annoyance, and then pain. He’s more than happy to have the proper N-95 mask as they begin to get their first case at Roswell General but then a couple more patients trickle in and within a few days his skin is irritated and itching. Maybe it’s the news, maybe it’s the texts from his friends that he’s increasingly missing, but when the Regiment starts spouting off about how COVID is a joke he thinks it might be affecting his nerves too. By week three his former red mark left by the mask has become a permanent feature to his face and by week five it’s not a mark but a bruise instead. Blisters and cracks in his skin litter his hands from over-washing. His feet become so overused the pads of his feet feel numb and bruised and he wears through an entire pair of shoes.

Positivity has fled from his life by week seven and now he’s inside of a survival mode he’s never experienced. He thought after last year he’d be used to anything the world (or universe, rather, given all these aliens) could throw at him. Now what feels foolish, he had believed that there was nothing that could be worse than the previous pain of losing a patient or finding out his father had experimented on people’s lives. 

When he’s out of ventilators and CPAP machines because Albuquerque needs them more and he has to choose whether or not to save the life of an eighty five year old or a thirty two year old he remembers from high school, he breaks.

 Guilt is one thing, grief is another, but the pure rage he feels knowing that Max Evans is out on the town patrolling as some fucking cop and not someone who could heal most of this hospital makes him want to commit actual murder. Maybe trading the blood of an alien on his hands would feel less heart-wrenching. But no. Max had brought back Rosa and had paid the price. Quelling his anger, he went back to work.

 He slept at the hospital most nights in the height of it. Sure the couch was rough, but it was better than the other on-call doctor beds down the hall. Three twelve hour ER shifts of a usual work week doubled to five days of thirteen hour shifts. Soon there’s a week where he pulls double shifts for an entire week when one of his nurses is urgently hospitalized herself. Hospital directors had left them with no PPE except contaminated masks to reuse. Maria, Isobel, and Rosa are in the forefront of a drive to make and donate masks to his hospital after some social media posts that he doesn’t even see until the cloth masks arrive and his medical assistants give him their handwritten note. It makes him smile, but smiling feels so foreign that he almost wants to break from that.

 Visitors are no longer allowed which means Kyle isn’t allowed to use his bedside manner to comfort the family of patients. He has to facetime mothers, spouses, and children and hold the phone over a patient who can’t breathe without machine assistance and pretend that everything is fine and that there’s still hope despite the hypoxia and lack of rising vitals. Ignore that if the patient goes into cardiac arrest more than once, the kindest thing to do given prognosis is to let the patient pass. Resuscitation and DNR (a patient’s begging request to not be resuscitated) becomes a word he uses in his daily work and not simply for intense surgeries.

 Exhaustion isn’t a deep enough adjective to describe the fugue state he goes into. File to file, room to room, ventilator to next… he isn’t surprised when his body starts to wear down. When he no longer feels hunger and instead feels all too hot and dizzy. Telling himself it’s just because of how much he’s exerting his body while covered in layers and layers of protective clothing doesn’t help the fact that he’s starting to have more trouble breathing as he walks the hallways at a fast pace. When he begins to cough, he does what he promised himself he wouldn’t do and drives out post-shift to the desert cabin of Max Evans.

 Part of him is too desperately tired to knock, but when he arrives on the property with the cop car idle and the house dark and at peace for the night, his fury greets him with the embrace of a long-lost friend. Knuckles pound at the wood and Max answers the door with surprise and a general look of defense, and Kyle tries not to immediately punch him in the face at the fact he looks like he had woken up from a comfortable sleep.

 “Heal me.” Kyle manages to spit out.

 “I—what’s wrong?”

 “Beginning stages of respiratory distress, fever, nausea—what do you fucking think?”

 “Kyle—,” Max starts to say, the hesitation deepening, and that does it.

 “No. I have not asked you for anything in all of this, Evans. Anything!” He shouts, voice hoarse. “Not when people got sick, not when they started dying, not even when we started having to let people die on purpose. And you know what? I wasn’t going to even come and ask you now, but I can’t get sick when I’m the one here fucking saving lives out of the two of us and you’re just cruising the streets handing out goddamn traffic tickets.”

 Max’s face isn’t stony like it usually is when Kyle’s yelling at him; this time it’s crushed and guilty but not nearly enough. “What kind of hours you work this week, Evans? A nice 8 to 4? Did you get facetime with Isobel or your mom, maybe binge through a few books and movies after you’re home? Did you sit down and eat a nice dinner and or go over to drink a few beers with Guerin since you can’t get sick? Even get a nice eight hours of sleep in your own bed in your nice quiet home?”

 No response.

 “I am not asking to sequence your DNA like Liz. All I am asking is for you to let me heal people since you don’t want to.”

 A night breeze is all that makes noise for a moment as Kyle catches his breath and glares at Max, who stands quietly but is staring down at his boots before he finally looks up and nods. Max steps forward then, and Kyle sees that his eyes are actually filled with tears. Temper deflating, but still not subsiding entirely, given that not much else is able to be done; Kyle lets Max place a hand on his shoulder and feels the extremely weird feeling spread throughout his body. Something more electric than anything else, which God knew made a lot more sense concerning his powers and how the body operated with electrical nerve impulses, but that is a train of thought better left for another day. He wants to just walk away, and he almost does, but he still mutters a “thank you” before he does so.

When his nurse dies a few days later and he watches as the staff double bag her body to take to the morgue, he escapes to his office and crashes on his couch with sobs. There’s no one here to support him. He can’t go to his mother’s home and collapse into one of her comforting embraces without risking infecting her. He can’t get wasted at the Wild Pony with Maria when it’s closed. He can’t visit Rosa or Arturo at the Crashdown. Keeping his friends and family safe meant keeping them away from him. Keeping them safe meant he needed to stop pushing his head into his hands to try and control the sound of his crying and get back to work at saving the lives around them.

He gets put on leave by the hospital administrator when he’s almost arrested for decking Wyatt Long in the hospital parking lot as the idiot stood outside with a sign rallying Regiment members to make sure the hospital was told it was killing people on purpose for the election. If Jenna hadn’t been the officer on duty he would have been cuffed and put on record, jeopardizing his license, but there was some self-preserving part of him that desperately wished for his practice to be over anyway. He’s not even sure how Jenna handles it, honestly, all he remembers is her dropping him off at his house from her patrol car like she had been nothing but an uber. No matter how angry and adamant he gets, his boss refuses to bend, saying it’s for his own good given the connections the Long’s have in the town and how Kyle has worked almost 74 of the past 76 days.

Alex is the first to visit him, unannounced. When the doorbell rings Kyle is mindlessly pretending to watch some tv show in his living room that’ll distract him from his consuming thoughts about patients, so he doesn’t get up to answer. He checks his silent phone to see if he was forewarned of a visitor but sees nothing. Unsure if it’s his boss or a patient’s family, he forces himself up onto his sore feet and opens the door after grabbing a regular mask off the coffee table. Black face mask on and standing further out from the door on the porch is Alex, the usual gruff hello turned into something soft. “Hey.”

Kyle heaves a sigh. He had wondered when the pity visits would begin. “Hey. You really shouldn’t be around me, you know.”

“I’m clearly a minimum of eight feet away in an open space while masked.” Alex smarts back. “Either way, I’m worried about you.”

Scoffing, he shakes his head. “Don’t fucking worry about me. Worry about getting sick, because if I have to see another person I care about die, I--,”

“Kyle.” the other says too kindly, the sort of pacifying voice Alex reserved for only the most dire situations. “I have no idea what you’re dealing with in specifics, but my experiences do overlap with yours in some places.”

“And?”

Maybe it came out a little too rude, because Alex raises a brow, but then sighs instead. “And I’m just checking in to make sure you know people care about you.”

“Thanks, Manes.” Kyle huffs in return, managing not to roll his eyes because focusing on being blunt and abrasive was so much easier.

“Just be careful.” Alex interjects before Kyle could close the door and turn back to his show. “Dealing with the trauma of what you’re dealing with gets dark very quickly.”

“Because I punched Wyatt Long?” he spits back sarcastically.

“No, because the suicide rates for healthcare professionals are drastically increasing along with the rates of PTSD diagnoses.” Alex says flatly, ever one to be unfazed by sarcasm. “And I’ve lost more active duty members to suicide than I have combat.”

Kyle pauses, caught. Maybe Alex had known he would be, because there isn’t some way he can give a smile and reassuring wave with him like he could his mother or Liz. While Kyle hadn’t actively thought of a plan, he couldn’t pretend he had noticed signs of depression the second he was alone in his house. 

“The quiet is the worst part, right?” Alex says, all but reading his mind. “Not always because of the flashbacks, although those are horrible, but because if things are quiet then--,”

“--people are dying.” Kyle finishes, his voice raspier by the end of the three words. “Yeah, well, mine still are.”

“They’re going to.” Is what felt like a cold response, but somehow gave Kyle the understanding he’s been craving. “They’re going to die and because of your profession you’re going to be able to save some of them. Which will make you think you’re responsible to save all of them and because you’re a good person you’re going to feel guilty in ways that no one will understand for being human and failing to.”

“Failing is all I do lately.” Kyle replies. “Usually the wins feel higher than the losses as a doctor, but with this-- and no one outside of it cares. They go outside and yell about how this is about a fucking election and when it’s not the patients, it’s the hospital pretending they don’t have enough money to buy us proper protection. Or the government saying this will all go away and that it’s just a light cold.”

Alex gives a small nod. “I know. I also know telling you the same advice that you’d give another doctor of trying not to burn out and instead taking a small rest is useless. So I’m just going to drop off these dvd’s and make you report back to me the difference when you’re done.”

Star Trek and Star Wars. Kyle finds a smile tug on his lips. Alex leaves with one on his as well.

When he gives a response to Alex a few days later on how Star Wars is better not more than a few minutes later Deluca is texting him with recommendations on joining her Buffy the Vampire Slayer rewatch. There’s something sweet about the fact that people have been clearly talking about him, even if definitely borderline creepy with how nosy his circle of friends can be, but he sighs and lets Maria add him to the group chat she has with Rosa and Liz where they review each episode after the fact and even chimes in every now and then. Isobel gets added not long after due to an Instagram story Maria shares and then the group has moved onto Friends after everyone shoots down Liz for suggesting Grey’s Anatomy on behalf of Kyle. Alex is also in there, even if it’s rare he chimes in with an opinion, but once they start Friends his commentary about how much he hates Ross that gets the entire group riled up does tend to make him laugh. Even Kyle agrees with Forest-- whose opinion had been shared by Alex-- that Chandler had all too many queer-coded scenes with Joey.

His mother facetimes him daily, which given how they both don’t exactly go out much starts to become monotonous, until she begins to give in and talk about memories she has of their father. Tidbits she never would have shared with him about their adult life when he was a child or teenager. He in turn facetimes Rosa and shares some of the memories of their father as well, which as much as she tries to pretend she doesn’t want for Arturo’s sake she clearly does with the million questions she asks every single time and the small smile she gives him at the end of their calls.

Liz updates him on her work which is a nice reprieve from everyone’s normalcy and lack of medical jargon sometimes, especially when she gives him inside info on covid vaccine studies not yet published to the general public yet. Everything in him wants this more than anything else in the world right now and he texts her almost every day asking if she’s heard more news even when he knows things take time. She’s a good sport about everything, even when he shares in a very angry rant about Max Evans and how they could have helped so many more people so much more quickly with his DNA-- however selfish that might have been.

When he goes back to work, he feels refreshed, even when it makes things hit like a freight train once more. Lost in a sea of inadequacy, his feelings extend past the pandemic. Even when things return to a level of normalcy and the cases subside he gets alien medical drama thrown in his face once more, and he starts to wonder if he’ll ever recover. If he was wrong to choose this calling. If the fact he can’t help Max or Maria is a sign from above or his father that it’s time to make some career move or change location like his mother and Liz. But, like he tells Michael Guerin. He can’t think he can face his future children and say he walked away from this. Or let people die by quitting, just like Rosa warns. And so he stays and tries to heal both other people and himself.

[little-mad]

“Tiny ears! Remember?!” With Tara and Thomas!

Ok, I really liked writing this one

From this list of prompts here

And for anyone who doesn’t know, more details about these two can be found on my oc masterlist

______________________________________________________

After knowing one another for two months, Tara finally agreed to cross into giant territory for her meetings with Thomas. Admittedly, it was kind of awkward standing on opposite sides of the creek. More importantly, being out in the open like that, they ran the risk of getting seen by somebody. Tara definitely did not want to have to explain why she was hanging out with a giant to her family and friends back home.

The spot she and Thomas had decided on wasn’t far into giant territory, in fact Tara could still catch a glimpse of the border through the trees. Meanwhile, Thomas was about as concealed as his giant form would allow in an area with trees shorter than him.

Of course, Tara never would have agreed to the arrangement had she not been confident Thomas harbored no ill will towards her. The guy had saved her life twice, and after getting to know him better and better over time, she could almost call him a friend.

That being said, Tara had been sure to set up clear ground rules. Most important of the rules was that Thomas had to keep his hands to himself unless given express permission otherwise. The giant had pouted extensively about it. He obviously got a kick out of holding and touching her, which was exactly why Tara had forbidden it. Plus, being around hands that could easily snuff out her life made her more than a little anxious, believe it or not.

In order to avoid physical contact while still managing to remain close to Thomas’s eye level, Tara had positioned herself in a high branch of a tree directly in front of where the giant was sitting. Thomas had been fretting like a mother hen as she climbed up, insisting it was too dangerous for someone “so itty bitty.” The comment only served to make Tara climb quicker. She’d been scaling trees since she was little, she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Wait, but I thought you said you wanted to study at that university?” Tara inquired as she absentmindedly swayed her dangling legs back and forth.

During their last meeting, Thomas had explained to her his desire to attend some fancy school in a giant city a ways away. They had something sort of similar on the human side of the border, but it was incredibly far away and was very selective with who they allowed as students. No one in Tara’s town ever even considered it as a feasible option.

Thomas gave a humorless laugh. “Well of course I want to, both Lane and I have dreamed of going there for years,” he explained. “But it costs an arm and a leg to even be allowed to study there, not to mention room and board, food, supply costs...we’d never be able to afford it.” He let out a resigned sigh.

A frown formed on Tara’s face. She couldn’t necessarily empathize with Thomas’s situation exactly, but the feeling of being trapped by forces out of her own control was familiar enough after encountering giants. “So what are you going to do then?” she asked. The First Hunt had marked Thomas’s transition from child to adult, meaning he could no longer rely on his parents and needed to seek out a way to make a living.

“I’ll probably start helping out at my uncle’s shop, at least for now,” Thomas said with a shrug. He didn’t look especially pleased with the plan, but before Tara could call him out on it, he spoke up again. “What about you? Are you going to keep gathering supplies for your doctor?” he questioned.

Since even before she had finished school, Tara had been assisting the town’s physician by foraging for medicinal supplies that could be found in nature. At first it had mostly been freelance, but within the past month she had begun receiving a regular wage from the doctor. Tara enjoyed the unrestrictive nature of the work, plus the pay wasn’t half bad either. That being said, she couldn’t see herself doing it for the rest of her life.

“Well actually…” Tara started, “I’ve been thinking I might want to join one of the scouting parties.” The job was mentally and physically demanding, but scouts were well paid and well respected. Plus, after almost being eaten on two separate occasions, Tara felt as though non-giant related dangers were pretty manageable.

“Are you crazy?!” Tara winced at the unexpected volume of Thomas’s voice, her hands instinctively going to cover her ears against the thundering noise.

When her ears stopped ringing, she lowered her hands and shot a scowl up at the giant’s face. “Hey!” she shouted, “Tiny ears! Remember?!” Despite his natural enthusiasm, Thomas was usually pretty good at keeping his voice at a volume that was comfortable to Tara. Over time, his accidental loud outbursts had decreased in frequency. Whatever streak he’d had was now soundly broken of course.

Thomas’s eyes went wide as he realized what he’d done. “Sorry, sorry!” he exclaimed in an overly hushed tone. His cheeks became tinged with a slight red color and he wore a regretful expression on his face as he looked down at Tara. “I just--I can’t believe you would actually consider doing something so needlessly risky.” When he finished the sentence he began to take on the appearance of a stern father or something.

Tara pressed her lips together. She wasn’t really sure why Thomas seemed so worked up over the idea of her joining a scouting party. In the past, she had described what the scouts did and why they were so important to the wellbeing of her town. She’d mentioned the fact that, aside from ensuring no giants ever crossed into human territory, scouts were also responsible for fending off vicious wild animals, as well as occasionally dealing with bandits that sometimes hung around the woods surrounding the town. Sure, it was probably one of the more dangerous jobs Tara could do, but it wasn’t as if it were a death sentence. It was rare that a scout was ever killed in the line of duty.

“It’s not ‘needlessly risky’, Thomas,” she insisted. “Scouts are vital to the safety of my town. Plus, it’s not as dangerous as you seem to be imagining it to be.”

“The world is a dangerous place, and you’re so small--” Thomas started, but Tara was quick to interrupt him with a raised hand.

“Okay--just because I’m small to you, doesn’t mean I can’t handle myself just fine.”

“But why risk it when you don’t have to?”

Tara rolled her eyes. “I’m not going to live my life in a bubble.” It was becoming increasingly clear to her that while Thomas may view her as a person in some respects, he still thought of her as some kind of weak creature in need of protection. Considering he’d had to save her life on multiple occasions, Tara supposed she couldn’t entirely blame him. But that had been when she’d been in giant territory. Things were different on her side of the border.

At first, Thomas opened his mouth as if he were about to shoot back a retort. However, after a moment’s pause, his expression softened slightly. “I’m--I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he admitted.

Tara sighed. It was hard to stay too mad at the guy when he sounded so genuine. He seemed to really care about her wellbeing, even if he was being a bit overbearing about it. She allowed her tensed shoulders to relax. “I appreciate your concern,” she began, making sure to choose her words carefully. “But I promise, I’ll be fine.” Tara offered Thomas her most sincere smile. “Besides, I don’t even know for sure if I am actually going to join a scouting party. It’s just a possibility.”

With slow, controlled movements, Thomas leant forward so that his face was hanging about a foot above where Tara sat. She stiffened when one of his hands gently settled down beside her on the branch, close but not quite making contact with her body. “You don’t know how much I wish I could touch you right now,” he stated, a petulant look on his face.

With her cheeks flushing pink, Tara attempted to disguise it by fixing an unperturbed expression on her face. “You--you can keep your hands to yourself, Mr. Grabby,” she declared stubbornly.

Even if she trusted Thomas not to hurt her, willingly allowing a giant to touch her felt like crossing some line. Of course, she’d already crossed all kinds of lines just by agreeing to meet with him in the first place. Maybe Tara wasn’t completely opposed to letting him touch her--but only for practical purposes! Allowing him to fiddle with her now was certainly not practical.

Thomas gave Tara a pouty face, but when she remained resolute, he released a dramatic sigh before pulling away. “You’re killing me here.”

Tara snorted as she shook her head. “You are such a drama queen.”

[confused-stars]

HOW MANY CHILDREN IS THE MAN GOING TO GET asdfghjkl poor guy is so understaffed. What IS the closest he's come to breaking down?

okay, but you asked about this though, remember that!

The thing is, Kurogiri isn't made to break down. Ever. It's not in his programming. He just needs to function, even if that means pushing through the exhaustion and ignoring his own needs for a little while - if it gets especially bad, he can always go see the Doctor and he'll be good as new within a day or so.

Except... except he has a whole gaggle of children that need him there with them, so he can't go. He's worried something will happen if he takes a day to recalibrate - be recalibrated. (And what if he comes back feeling numb and unable to muster up enough emotion to care for any of his children besides Tomura?)

So he doesn't say anything, even as he feels himself be stretched thin. The portals at least help him be able to watch over everyone - and so do the older kids. Even Tomura has taken some sort of big brother role upon himself, despite two of Kurogiri's boys being older than him. They're both shorter than Tomura, still, and apparently that has some bearing on authority. Anemia, he has learned, can stunt a child's growth just like Keigo's early childhood malnutrition did to him. It's another thing to keep an eye on, because his eldest seems to have no regard for his own wellbeing, judging by how he keeps playing with flames that will only burn his own skin.

Flames that flare up in Kurogiri's peripheral vision as he enters the bar, fresh from a particularly violent errand he had to run for All for One.

"Bullshit," Dabi snaps, glaring at where Neito is standing with his arms crossed, not an ounce of fear in his entire tiny, eight-year old body. "None of that's a fucking good reason to wanna be a hero!"

He's picked up on Takami's language very quickly. Kurogiri feels a headache start forming, which isn't unusual for him, but this one feels odd. He wishes he could just go upstairs and sleep. He's been awake for over forty hours and he just hoped he could get a moment's reprieve here.

But not with these kids. He should have known better. Well, at least it's only about half of them right now - the permanent residents Tomura, Dabi, and Himiko, and then Neito who is staying over the weekend because his parents had to go out of town. Four out of seven. It should feel manageable. It should.

"Children, would you please keep your voices down? And no open fire inside the house, you know this, Dabi." He feels so very tired.

Dabi whirls around to look at him. "Tell the brat that being a hero's a shit idea!"

Kurogiri sighs. Dabi calling someone a brat is rich, if anything. Also, Neito is eight. And his grandfather has not yet tried to talk him out of this, which means there might be some plan already in motion. Dabi, of course, hates heroes with all his might, though.

"Neito can be whatever he wants to be. If that's the path he decides to go, then it is hardly up to us to stop him. I am not his parent," he reminds, trying to sound gentle.

Neito grins, smug. "I'm gonna be the best hero 'cause they all keep saying I can't! I'll show them!"

Dabi's flames flare up just as Tomura reaches out towards him, and Tomura retracts his hand with a curse. In an instant, Kurogiri is at his side to look at the burn. The skin is barely red though, and he gently nudges Tomura to go run it under cold water.

He is so tired.

Dabi looks horrified, his flames gone now, and Kurogiri wants to reach out to comfort him like he usually would, but he feels... not quite there. It's a bit like the fire burned up all the oxygen in the room and he's barely conscious from the lack of it. He wonders if he's even able to pass out. This feels eerily close.

He blinks. Dabi is gone. The front door slams shut.

"... Giri?" Tomura asks quietly.

Himiko has gotten up from her corner and is tugging at his sleeve. "... are you okay?"

He wants to pat her head, tell her it's fine, and then go after Dabi, and have a conversation with Neito about avoiding topics and not pushing boundaries, and check on Tomura's injuries, and pick up Hitoshi later today, and do the laundry, and make a grocery list, and make dinner, and then clean the kitchen, and tuck in at least the younger kids, and clean the visible scorch marks off the ceiling - maybe he should just clean the whole bar, that seems necessary, and then he also needs to get rid of he feeling of blood and body parts still sticking to the inside of his portals, despite them having long disappeared into thin air.

But above all, he wants to sleep.

He doesn't move for what feels like an eternity. When he does, he moves past a concerned Tomura and out through the door leading to the stairs. He makes it only halfway up before he stops again, and his form loses shape entirely. It must have been flickering for a while before and he didn't even notice.

He clings to the last bit of corporealness, but it's difficult. He just wants to let go. Exist as a cloud for a little while. Yes. A cloud. That seems peaceful. Clouds don't need to breathe or take care of children or follow orders, they're allowed to just be.

In another universe, maybe the children would have been the ones to pull him out of it, together. Maybe Tomura would have gently directed his one again solid body to sit at the bar and made him a terrible tasting sandwich. Himiko would have cuddled up to his side and made him feel calm and so full of affection, and Neito would have tried to distract him with some made up story. Dabi would have come back, and Kurogiri would have given him a hug, too, away from the eyes of the other kids because Dabi is still embarrassed about that.

In yet another universe, the children would have called the first adult on their minds, and Takami would have let himself in in a rush of feathers and wind. He would have flirted with Kurogiri until he felt like a person again and then taken the children out for shooting practice or something else questionable, but it would have been the break Kurogiri so desperately needed.

Neither of those things happen, even if Kurogiri imagines them for a little while.

What does happen is the appearance of his very annoyed looking master, who sighs in exasperation at the sight of the Kurogiri-cloud filling up the stairway.

... that's funny. Kurogiri. Cloud. Mist. Kumo...

"Pull yourself together," All for One orders, and Kurogiri strains to retake his regular form. It's like... well, trying to force smoke to take a solid shape. But he has his order, and he complies. Standing on the stairs, finally, he sways a little bit. All for One shakes his head.

"If you're unable to take care of these children adequately without breaking down like this, I might reconsider allowing this little... project to continue," he says calmly, "They're all assets, yes, but ultimately don't need to be kept this close. The Todoroki boy could be moved somewhere else and still function as a powerful asset. He might be a bad influence on Tomura, anyway."

He's not, Kurogiri knows. Tomura loves each member of this little family, and each of them help him with his own problems. The itch, the anxiety, the mania. Dabi especially understands the latter enough to help, sometimes more than Kurogiri is able to.

But All for One cares little for Tomura's mental wellbeing, that much has been obvious for a while.

"This was a simple slight on my part." Kurogiri tried to keep his voice from wavering when the slightest bit. "Nothing needs to be changed about this arrangement. I am still able to fulfill my duty as I always have."

All for One gives him a smile, and it is that of a predator.

And... that is that.

Kurogiri turns and goes back to work.

[sweetyyhippyy]

Part of You. Spencer Reid x OC! Character. Chapter 6.

Chapter 6: Birthday

(not my gif)

Summary: The morning after last chapter. Spencer and Bridgett spend the day together, being cute, having breakfast, and talking about the future. 

Pairing: Season 6 Spencer Reid x OC! Plus size character, Bridgett Mendez.

TW: Small talk about the night before, start of sexy time, a cuss word I think? 

Word count: 2.4k

A.N.: I’m really sorry, this chapter is filler so it’s not the best. There is some fluff sprinkled throughout the chapter so hopefully you’ll like it! This is still season 6 Spencer! Also, if you reblog this chapter I will follow you!! 

______

Spencer turns over, stretching his body and opening his eyes to see the back of Bridgett’s head next to him, her hair tied up on her head. She managed to push the covers down from around her body to her hip, her entire back exposed to him while she was sleeping away. She ran hot most nights, especially when Spencer was cuddled up behind her.

Spencer wraps his arms around her, moving closer to her naked body. Bridgett was cold to the touch as he hugged her close. His fingers trace from her hip bone, up her curves and across her back over a red bite mark on her right shoulder from last night, then around to the side of her neck to the hickies he had left on his girlfriend, kind of concerned he had hurt her. Bridgett’s body shutters next to him, a low moan coming from her as she stirs next to him.

“Shhh, go back to bed.” He whispers in her ear, rubbing her shoulder lightly.

“That tickles, I can’t go back to bed.” Bridgett mutters despite her eyes still being closed. She lets out a laugh feeling how softly his fingers were touching her bruised skin, feeling the dull soreness on the side of her neck.

Spencer leans on his arm and drops down to kiss her cheek multiple times. She hums in happiness finally opening her eyes and laying on her back to face Spencer. Bridgett lightly touches Spencer’s exposed collarbone with her fingers, making him shiver in return. Spencer moves to lay his body on top of Bridgett, resting his head in between her shoulder and neck, leaving little kisses on her skin.

“Good morning.” She smiles, grabbing the sheets and pulling them up over both of them. “I’m cold.” Bridgett says, playing with his hair.

Spencer wraps his arms around her and holds her tight, giving her a squeeze. “Probably since you slept naked.” He teases.

“Or because you weren’t cuddling with me.” She pokes back. Spencer laughs, kissing the top of her head twice.

“You’re right, you’re cold because I wasn’t touching you.”

“I’m glad you agree.”

Brat.

“Hey,” He starts, picking his head up to look at Bridgett’s face. “Did I hurt you last night?”

Bridgett cocks her head to the side, giving him a questioning look. “No? Why?”

Spencer moves the necklace over carefully and lightly runs his hands over the two bruises on her neck, his eyes not leaving hers.

“Oh, Spence, baby no.” Bridgett coos, touching his cheek lightly. “No you didn’t hurt me. I like when you leave marks on me. It’s a pain to cover them up, but I do like them.” Bridgett can tell Spencer isn’t 100% content with her answer, he still felt a little guilty leaving such ugly purple-black bruises on her. She grabs his face, making him look at her. “Hey, don’t make that face at me. I’m telling you I’m okay. Plus, I would have used the safeword if I wanted you to stop.”

“You hate using the safeword.” He says, furrowing his brows.

“Because I can handle a lot more than you think I can, doctor. You think I’m a fragile little flower who can’t handle you being rough and nasty to me.” She smiles devilishly.

He bites onto his bottom lip to hide his smile, rolling his eyes playfully at her. “So do you want to go into town and get some stuff to make breakfast and some dinner? I’ll make waffles, eggs, and bacon. And you could make that fajita pasta tonight?”

It was Spencer’s favorite thing to eat that she cooked.

“Only if you give me a kiss.” Bridgett says, puckering her lips. Spencer kisses her back with a smile, lingering a little longer than he should have.

“Okay, let’s get showered and let’s go.” Spencer throws the covers off his body and rolls out of bed.

“Shared shower?” Bridgett questions, smiling at her boyfriend, making grabby hands up at him.

Spencer cocks his eyebrow at her, not being able to keep his smile in. He holds his hand out while she gets out of bed, grabbing his hand and heading off for their shower.

***

A few hours had passed, they got enough food for the rest of the night and some snacks for the next day.

They ate brunch in bed, Spencer trying to steal strawberries off Bridgett’s plate because he ate all of his. Bridgett yells jokingly as Spencer weasels his fork across her plate, impaling 2 of her strawberries.

“Excuse me!” Bridgett complains. “You should have cut yourself more strawberries if you wanted them, these are mine.” She taunts him, moving her strawberries away from close to him.

“Couples share!” Spencer says, shoving the whole berry in his mouth.

“They do but I don’t share strawberries. Just like you don’t share your jello. I learned that lesson the hard way.”

Spencer laughs, remembering when he basically interrogated Bridgett when he saw a jello cup missing from the fridge. The one freaking time she craves jello and Spencer turns bad cop on her.

“I have a question.” Spencer says, stuffing his face with a piece of waffle.

“Okay.”

“Is there any fixing the relationship you and your parents have? Or is that broken beyond repair?”

Bridgett stops chewing, looking over at Spencer, completely taken back by his question.

“Where is this coming from? Before I answer.”

He shrugs his shoulders, “I dunno, I was curious about if you would ever take me home to meet your parents.”

Bridgett sighs, thinking about the answer to her question. To be honest, she hadn't even thought about Spencer meeting her parents. Mostly because she didn’t want them to scare Spencer away.

“Well, I don’t know. I haven’t given it thought until 5 seconds ago if I’m being honest. If my parents weren’t… how my parents are, and we had a good relationship, I would have taken you to meet them a long time ago. I know how they are and I don’t want them to do or say anything that’ll make you uncomfortable or upset you.The only person I can see you meeting is my sister, Celeste.”

“Upset me how?”

“I never told you, but there was a boy back when I was a junior, I had a huge crush on him, his name was Cruz, and we weren’t ever boyfriend and girlfriend or anything, but he took me out on a few dates. Anyway, my mom saw us out one night at a mall, and she started tearing him to shreds. Calling him a ‘hoodlum’, ‘gang banger’, any other insensitive name she could call him because he had a tattoo and his ears were pierced. And she said all of that to his face. I was mortified, he was pissed, and we never went out after that. I just don’t want them to treat you horribly. You don’t deserve that.”

“I get it, it’s okay if it doesn’t happen, but you know I can handle it, right?”

“I know, babe, but then I’m going to get mad and it’s just going to end in the three of us yelling and I don’t want that. I’m not counting it out completely just… not yet. And since you brought it up, have you ever thought about me meeting your mom?”

“Yeah of course. It might be further down the road, but yes I do want you two to meet. You two are both very important to me.”

“Unfortunately neither of us have a normal family.” Bridgett jokes.

“We can make our own normal family.” Spencer says nonchalantly, making Bridgett turn her head quickly toward him. Spencer feels her eyes on him, making him look back at her. “What?”

“You know what you just said right? You’ve thought about us having our own family?”

Spencer breaks eye contact, his cheeks getting a little red. “Well yeah. I’ve thought a lot about marrying you, us having kids. We’ve both talked about wanting families one day, and it was before we got together that we had that conversation, but it still stands at least for me.”

Bridgett smiles at him, kissing his lips, a hint of strawberry on them. “What’s stopping you from marrying me right now?”

“Not much, honestly. But we’re only in our 20s. I think we should wait a little while longer before we get married.”

“I’m imagining you in a nice tuxedo,” Bridgett grabs both of their plates of food, placing them on the nightstand, and climbs onto Spencer’s lap, straddling him.

Spencer raises his eyebrows, resting both of his hands on her hips, and a peaceful smile on his face.

“Your hair combed back, looking like SuperMan in your glasses, because you know what your glasses do to me.” She whispers, kissing him again.

Spencer pulls back from the kiss first, a smile on his face. “Actually, Clark Kent wore glasses to cover up the fact he was SuperMan. But glasses aren’t much of a disguise, if I put glasses on you I would still be able to tell that it was you. Even if he was a strang-“

Bridgett kisses him again, lingering for a few extra seconds before pulling back. “I love when you info drop, I think it’s very cute and I love hearing you go on about stuff you know a lot about, but I was trying to be sexy.”

Spencer laughs, cupping Bridgett’s face in his hands. “You don’t have to try hard, my love.”

***

Bridgett’s body shutters, making her wake up. She grabs for the blanket that she pushed off her body during the night. As she pulled the blanket it wouldn’t come up further than her stomach, making her whine.

“Spencer you’re on the blanket. You’re being a blanket hog.” She mumbles, turning around to lay on his chest to wake him up but the spot next to her was empty. Bridgett opens her eyes, lifting her head up off the pillow and looking at the empty bed.

“Spence?” Bridgett calls out, sitting up on the bed to find her discarded clothes on the floor. She slips her underwear on, putting her long sleeve sweatshirt over her bare torso to go find Spencer.

She walks around the cabin, finding a yellow heart shaped balloon and a birthday cake balloon swaying back and forth on the counter in the kitchen, the ribbon tied to the handle of the overhead cabinet. Bridgett smiles as she sees Spencer sitting on the couch, bringing his coffee mug to his lips. She walks up behind him, leaning down and runs her hands down both sides of his chest and enveloping him in a hug.

“Good morning, hermoso.” Bridgett whispers in his ear, kissing the spot below his ear.

“Good morning.” Spencer smiles, putting his coffee down on the table next to him. He motions for her to come over to him, holding his arms out.

Bridgett rounds the couch, sitting next to him, and placing her legs in his lap, kissing his cheek.

“Happy birthday, babe.” He says, giving her a peck on the lips.

Bridgett gives him a kiss back, smiling into his lips as they pull back. “Thank you. I love my balloons.” Kissing him again. “And you.”

“I love you too. I have another present I want to give you. Well technically it’s two, but one is more symbolic. Well, symbolic is the wrong word, one is romantic, and the other is a gesture. I don’t know if that’s the right wo-.”

Bridgett laughs, grabbing his face and making him look at her. “Your brain is working faster than your mouth baby. Relax.”

He presses his nose against hers and reaches behind the pillow next to him. “The romantic gift first.” He says, handing her a CD case with a yellow piece of construction paper taped on the inside with the words written in his chicken scratch, “Songs That Remind me of You” with a heart on it.

Bridgett pouts her lip out and makes soft eyes at him. “Babe!” She says in a whiny voice, hugging his waist.

“This can be our playlist for tonight. And I have something else for you.” He says, handing her a key.

Bridgett smiles at him, raising an eyebrow to him. “What’s this for?”

“I could say something cheesy that I had seen on the internet when I was looking up cute ideas for gifts for you, but it’s a key to my apartment. I figured you’re already at my place more often than not so, yeah.” He smiles.

Bridgett takes his face in between her hands again, bringing his face close to hers and kisses him passionately. “I love you so much, Spencer. I’m so lucky.”

“I was nervous that giving you the key was going to freak you out.”

“Why would it freak me out?”

Spencer shrugs his shoulders, looking down at the coffee table trying to sort through the thoughts in his head. “I’ve never done the relationship thing before. I don’t know how soon is too soon to do things, and I don’t want to hold off on doing things because I get in my head about rushing into things… but I don’t want to freak you out and make you feel pressured into something you don’t want to do just to make me happy.” Spencer clears his throat, narrowing his eyes. “You can tell me to stop talking.”

Bridgett giggles, bringing his face closer to hers, her thumb rubs his cheek lovingly. “You know that I would tell you if things were moving too fast, right? Plus, we’ve never had a normal moving relationship in case you haven’t noticed. And I kinda like it… just like I kinda like you.”

Spencer lets out a deep laugh, his eyes scrunching up as she smiles. “You just like me? That’s it?”

“Yup. A strong admiration.” She giggles, bopping her nose against his. “I’m fond of you.”

“Alright, let’s see how fond you are.” He says, shifting his body against the couch and making her lay down on her back against the cushions.

Bridgett wraps her legs around his waist, putting her hands on both sides of his face. “First one to say I love you loses.” She says.

“What's the punishment for losing?”

“The loser has to give the other head… twice.”

“I love you. I love you so much. The love of my life. I love you.” Spencer says, kissing all over her face.

[heliads]

Switching Sides

Y/N L/N is a Phoenix, a supernatural who can conjure up fire. When she first meets up with Theo Raeken, he teaches her to use her powers as long as she goes along with his plan to take down the McCall pack. Will she be able to go through with it, especially after experiencing the kindness of Beacon Hills?

masterlist

There’s a pounding in your skull, growing louder and louder with every second that passes. You’ve had pain like this before, pain that’s been especially brutal in the last couple of weeks, but never as bad as this. There have been other things, too, flickers of yellow and red appearing out of the corners of your eyes that almost look like flames. They disappear whenever you look too hard, though, and some part of you thinks you might almost be hallucinating.

Today, though, you have no time to worry about that. You’re in class, and supposed to be concentrating on a calculus lesson, but you feel like your skull is about to crack in two, the pressure building until it feels like you’re on the bottom of the ocean. You weakly raise a hand, asking if you can use the bathroom, and once the teacher reluctantly nods you duck out of the class, moving as fast as you can in your deteriorating state.

You barely make it out of the room and close the door behind you before the pain reaches a new height of agony and you collapse against a wall, breathing in and out shallowly. Even that faintest of motions sends you off again, and you squeeze your eyes shut in pain. Luckily, the hallway is empty, but you still clap a hand over your mouth just in case.

The pressure behind your eyes is growing, growing, and then it suddenly releases all at once. The yellow and red lights are all around you again, dancing in a haze in front of you. As you stand up, though, you realize there’s no way you’re just seeing this in a fever dream caused by the pain. Your arms, your hands, every inch of you- it’s all coated in flame. Tongues of it dance to the ceiling, but yet you don’t feel hurt. The fire is all around you, but it doesn’t burn you. Not for a second.

You stare at it, openmouthed, then do your best to calm down and try to reel in the fire. Slowly, painfully slowly, it begins to shrink, fires dying away into mere sparks. You sigh in relief as the last of it goes away, but then your eyes fly up and meet a pair of shocked brown ones across the hall. It’s an English teacher, an old man just crossing in front of the hall.

Your head snaps up, and you turn to him, pleading. “Don’t say anything-not a word- please! It won’t happen again. Please don’t say anything.” The man stares for a moment longer, then nods slowly and walks away as quickly as he can. You sink back against the tile of the hall, which is now hot to the touch. Your head falls into your hands. What just happened to you? And what is going to become of you?

Surprisingly, nothing happens for another few days. You almost believe that you’re going to get away with whatever just happened until the school day ends and you find a group of strange men standing outside your car. The men are dressed in dark clothing, and you can see weapons strapped to their belts and gripped tightly in their hands. You look around for any onlookers to make sure you’re not imagining things, but you’d stayed late after school and the parking lot is empty in the dark night.

They stare at you as you approach, then pull out a man who’s been hiding behind their ranks. “Is that the girl?” The man cowers, then whispers in a hushed voice. “Yes.” You realize with a sickening jolt that the men are speaking to the English teacher, the one from before who’d seen the fire. They release the teacher, who scurries back to the school. You glare at him as he runs past you. “How could you do this! You spineless little-”

One of the men cuts you off with a bitter laugh. “Look, she’s got a temper to match her mistakes. Don’t yell at him, supernatural, he’s a human and therefore far above you.” You turn back to face him, and realize he’s taken a gun out of his belt and is pointing it at you. Your breathing starts to come shallowly, and you realize you’re terrified. “What are you doing? Don’t kill me- I had no idea what was going on!”

The man just shakes his head, laughing. “You don’t get a choice.” His finger tightens on the trigger, and you fling your arms up in front of you. There’s a sudden tightening in your lungs, and then the same thing that had happened earlier happens again- a rushing sound, a pain in your head, and then a wave of flame erupting out of your hands. The men duck for cover, rolling away to escape the fires. The man with the gun isn’t so lucky- he’s coated with burns and lies on the pavement, unconscious from pain.

The other men stare at you, and then raise their weapons. You raise your hands in turn, desperately trying to use your strange abilities again, but nothing happens. Then, there’s a sound from right behind the men. It sounds like the growling of a wild animal. The men turn around, and then a blur of sound and violence hits them. 

When the growling stops, the men are lying on the ground, either dead or knocked unconscious. Your rescuer turns out to be a teenage boy about your age, with dark hair and eyes like the stormy sky. You stare at him, at the claws extended from his fingertips and his eyes, which glow a gold color you’ve never seen before. He looks at you for a second before retracting his claws. “My name is Theo. I’m here to save you from the hunters. I can teach you how to use your powers.”

That was how you met Theo Raeken, how you learned just what supernaturals were, and the beginning of your journey to master your abilities. Theo told you that you were a phoenix, some powerful supernatural being he’d never even heard of before he saw you. As the weeks passed, you learned to control the fire that shot from your hands, the strange gut instincts that told you snatches and glimpses of the future, and how to heal and fight like any other supernatural.

You also learned the truth about Theo Raeken, and his plan to save all of the supernaturals in a small town called Beacon Hills. Theo was a chimera, of course, not a werewolf like so many others. You had met the Dread Doctors, too, although they weren’t as interested in you because you weren’t a chimera that they could experiment on in some way. You were thankful for that- despite Theo’s assurances that they wouldn’t hurt you and were on your side, they still seemed like terrifying forces that would kill you at a moment’s notice and enjoy it, too.

You and Theo crafted a careful plan for your arrivals at Beacon Hills. You would show up first, claiming that you had heard of a true alpha in town and had hoped he could protect you from the hunters. You would reveal your status as a phoenix, but only after he’d accepted you into his ranks. Theo would arrive about a month or so later, and would help save you from some errant chimera who would attack the school. You would use your new friendship with the McCall pack to ensure that the others trusted Theo, and then you two would work to destroy the pack from the inside.

Although the pack would be kind to you, you knew better than to trust them. Theo had told you all about the McCall pack, and how they left a trail of destruction and dead innocents in their wake. Besides, only a few of the pack would be injured after the plan was fully carried out, Theo made that clear to you. Their powers would be taken, Theo would become as strong as a chimera possibly could and then the two of you would leave town to take down hunters with the aid of the Dread Doctors if necessary.

On the day you were set to leave your old hideout behind and begin the drive to Beacon Hills, you found yourself speaking with Theo for the last time until the next stage of the plan. The two of you had driven your car out to a ridge overlooking some great swathe of woods, and you stood right next to him, hearts beating as one. You glanced over your shoulder at the chimera, trying to ingrain this last memory of him into your mind before you had to leave.

You had grown close to Theo since he had saved you from those hunters, and you had spent almost two months with him. He had been there to teach you everything you knew about the supernatural world, and you had made yourself indispensable to the formation of his plan to gain power. You had lived almost your entire life without him, but now you find you don’t even want to leave his side for a month.

Theo notices your gaze and smiles, a light bittersweet tang stopping him from looking fully content. “I’m going to miss you, you know.” He says, reaching out an arm to wrap casually around your waist. You return his smile. “I’ll miss you too. I keep telling myself that it’ll only be a month, but even that seems too long.” Theo considers you for a second, then leans forward and presses a kiss onto your lips. He draws back just an inch, speaking in a whisper. “Wait for me. I’ll come as soon as I can.” “I will. You know I will.” He nods slowly. “Good.” Then he kisses you one last time, one final time before time tears the two of you apart.

The drive over to Beacon Hills takes about two hours. You play the radio in the car on the way over, head nodding absentmindedly when you hear a good song come on. You’re silent almost the entire time, head still spinning thinking about the boy you left behind. This is the plan, you tell yourself, you knew this was coming all along. Yet it still hurts to be apart.

It’s surprisingly easy to convince the McCall pack that you can be trusted. You recite the same excuse you’ve been rehearsing for months about how your family was killed by hunters and you knew a pack with a True Alpha would be able to keep you safe. They practically fall over themselves in a rush to assure you that everything will be fine, that you’re one of them now, and that means they’ll always have your back. It’s almost laughable to see their generosity.

They’re actually pretty good people, you notice, and you’ve only known them for a couple of weeks. It’s strange- they give off this warm atmosphere, like by running with them you’re a part of some supernatural family that always protects each other. You watch as Scott teaches Liam how to be a werewolf, how Stiles makes sure Lydia’s alright after she uses her banshee abilities. Some dark part of you twists inwardly at the realization that you’ll be the one to tear this apart, to take this perfect set of paper dolls and set fire to everything around them. You do your best to push away that rising feeling of guilt. Theo will be here soon, and he will make sure everything will be better.

Tonight is the Senior Scribe, the night you’ve been waiting for the past month. You all show up to the school, sign your names on the shelves of the library, then head out. Scott, Malia, Kira, Lydia, Stiles, and yourself have just arrived at the school, and are walking around the area. Just like clockwork, there’s the chimera attacking the pack, and just as planned, it’s extremely hard to defeat. Scott and Malia are slashing it with their claws, Kira’s got her kitana out, and you’re shooting fire out of your palms.

The chimera lunges at you, and you duck and roll underneath it. It’s about to reach around and hit you again, and then just as it reaches you it whips back around, smarting from an injury dealt by some unknown rescuer. You smile to yourself. Even without seeing his face, you know who’s just arrived. Man, you’ve missed him so much.

Sure enough, when the defeated chimera eventually runs away to face the wrath of the Dread Doctors, the pack turns to face Theo, who’s standing a few feet away with a smirk. His eyes shift to you for just the briefest of seconds, and you feel your heart race at the warmth in his gaze. Then, Scott asks him who he is and what he’s doing in Beacon Hills, and Theo’s focus snaps back to the pack.

Theo is eventually able to speak in his defense, and although Stiles seems to have some strange suspicion about the chimera, you’re able to convince him and the rest of the pack that Theo’s alright. After Senior Scribe, you head in your car and drive home, only to find a figure waiting for you when you walk in and lock your door behind you.

You beam at him as he walks over to you. Theo kisses you, then draws back to look at you. “I missed you so much, you know that?” You laugh quietly. “Trust me, I missed you even more. I can’t wait until this is all over and we can just be ourselves again.” Theo nods, agreeing, and leans forward to kiss you again.

You’re running with Mason towards the library. Something’s wrong- something is very, very wrong. When you burst through the doors, you freeze in your tracks. Melissa McCall is kneeling over her son. Scott is lying on the ground, chest covered in blood. Your hand flies to your mouth. “He’s dead. Oh my God, Scott is dead.” Melissa shakes her head fervently. “He’s not dead. Not yet. He can’t be dead, he can’t be.” 

You and Mason watch as she performs CPR, but you can’t focus on anything through the spinning in your head. This was not supposed to happen, Scott was not supposed to be hurt this badly- god, the guy might be dead forever and it’s all your fault. You start to pace back and forth, breathing heavily as the full extent of what you’d just done hits you. There’s a slight gasp behind you, and you whirl around to see Scott sitting up slowly.

You let out a shaky sigh, relieved. “Scott, you’re alright.” Staring at him, at the werewolf who’s barely older than you and yet just died right in front of your eyes, is starting to make you realize something about your involvement in Theo’s plans. You start to walk away from Scott and towards the door. “I think I need to have a conversation with Theo.” You mutter, and Scott weakly holds out an arm to you. “Wait, Y/N!” You turn back to face him, eyes starting to bubble up with tears at the overwhelming guilt of what you’ve caused. “I didn’t know you were going to be hurt. I didn’t know any of this was going to happen. I’m so sorry, Scott.”

Scott nods slowly. “It’s alright. Just promise me you won’t tell Theo that I’m alive. Until we get a better plan, I need him to think I died.” You stare at him for a second longer, then nod as well. “He won’t know a thing.” With that, you drag your eyes away from Scott’s bloodsoaked form, and your feet carry you out of the library and towards your car.

You’re not entirely aware that you’re driving at all, just that you end up striding hurriedly through the tunnels to where Theo was staying. Your guess as to his location is correct, as you throw open a door to reveal the chimera standing in front of the Dread Doctors’ empty operating room. He turns when he sees you, but his smile starts to fall flat when he sees the tears and look of horror on your face.

He walks quickly up to you, starting to wrap his arms around you but you shake them off. “Don’t touch me.” You say, backing away from him. Theo frowns at you. “What’s wrong?” You just give him a bitter glare. “You never told me that Scott would be hurt, that any of this would happen!” You choke back a sob. “Scott is dead, and his blood is on my hands. Why did you lie to me?”

Theo sighs. “I knew if I told you everything you wouldn’t have trusted me. This was the only way. Nothing like that will ever happen again, I promise. The Dread Doctors said that if he died, no one else would have to get hurt.” You just shake your head in disbelief. “And why should I believe a word you say? How do I know you’re not lying again?”

Your words seem to cut Theo like a knife. “This is the only thing we could have done.” His voice drops a little, cracking. “I love you, Y/N. Isn’t that enough?” You just shake your head, feeling more tears bubbling up but you can’t find the strength to wipe them away. “I can’t do this, Theo. They’re good people. I can’t hurt them.” Theo’s eyes widen as he realizes what you’re saying. “Y/N, wait! Don’t go. I love you!” You look at him one last time. “I love you too. More than anything, but this is too much. I’m sorry.” With that, you turn and leave the room, hearing the desperate shouts of the boy you love disappearing behind you with every step.

You confess everything to the McCall pack. You tell them how you first met Theo, about the Dread Doctors, about the plan the two of you had created. You apologize profusely, saying that you would understand if they want you to leave and never want to see you again. It’s the least they could ask for, judging by how much hurt you have caused them. Yet they shake their heads, reaching out their arms and saying that they still want you in town. Your powers as a phoenix could come in handy, and your connection to Theo could be used as a weakness against him.

You’re walking with Mason and Liam in school a few days later, and glance over at the werewolf when you see his gaze shift from distracted to furious. “What’s wrong, Liam?” He just jerks his head in the direction of a pair of people leaning up against the lockers. “Theo. He’s got Hayden following him now.” You follow his gaze to see Theo smirking at Liam, taking pride in the rush of anger caused by the sight of Theo barely inches away from Hayden. The sight hurts you, too, and in a sudden impulse you turn to Liam.

“Two can play at that game, you know.” Liam registers what you’re saying and grins, casually looping his arm around your shoulders. Theo sees this and his gaze flashes with pain for a second before becoming a glare. Liam laughs as the three of you turn down a hallway. “That felt good.” He says, and you force a laugh. Did it, though? Did it not hurt even more to see how quickly Theo moved on from you, or the fact that he still loves you just as much as you love him?

The days come and go, each just as painful as the next. It hurts you to leave Theo, and it feels like your heart’s been cut open and left bleeding on the floor. Even though you know that he lied to you and killed Scott and done any number of horrible things, you find you still love him. You’ll probably always love him.

After the Beast is released and begins to plague the streets of Beacon Hills, you can tell Scott and the McCall pack are desperate for something, anything, to do to save those they care about. When Liam pulls you aside after class one day, you’re not surprised to hear that he and Scott have found a possible plan to save the town.

“There’s only one problem, though.” He tells you as the two of you head down the halls. You look at him quizzically. “What is it? Too dangerous?” Liam winces. “No- we realized we needed more people on our side and so we formed a temporary alliance with Theo.” You stop in your tracks. “What? Theo?” Liam nods. “Is that alright with you?” You look at him, then back down the halls. “I don’t know. I just wish I knew what to do when I see him again.”

When you finally arrive at your house at the end of the day, your head is still spinning. Theo, working by your side again? You have been purposefully avoiding him this whole time, as every glance across a crowded room feels like a thousand daggers thrown into your heart. It hurts to see him, to know that you left him and can’t ever return to his side, no matter how much you miss him. The lock clicks behind you, but you frown slightly. There’s something wrong here, some scent that you haven’t caught in a long time-

The light flicks on in the room, revealing an all too familiar figure. Your breath catches slightly in your throat. “Theo.” “Y/N.” He looks just like that silhouette in your memory, the same dark hair slightly tousled from where he raked his hands through it in frustration, same gray eyes that draw you in until you feel like drowning, same light smile that makes you want to run to him. But you remember yourself, and force your feet to stay right where they are.

“What are you doing here?” Your voice breaks the stillness, and you’re slightly surprised to hear it. Theo sighs. “I know you heard about my alliance with Scott. I just wanted to see if- if you still hated me. I don’t hate you, you know. Never could. I just needed to see if I had a chance with you anymore, or if I should just try to forget you, even if I know it’ll never work.”

You feel a bitter laugh spilling out of you. “Theo, I could never move on from you if I tried. Don’t you know that? I’ve tried to forget you a hundred times every day, and it never works. I can’t stop loving you.” Theo looks up at that, a quiet smile crossing his lips. “I’m not asking for forgiveness. Just a second chance.” He starts to walk towards you again, slowly at first, and keeps moving until he’s only a few inches away from you when he realizes you’re not going to stop him.

You tilt your head up to face him, breath starting to come unevenly when you notice how close you are to him. The light warmth from his breath makes your head rush. “I think that could work.” You manage, and he looks at you, that same full gaze that you’ve missed for a very long time. “I’d like nothing more.” He leans in and kisses you, and you feel more complete than you have since you first walked away. You don’t have to leave now. Even if things aren’t perfect, even if the path you walk is jagged and broken, at least you’ll be able to bear it with him at your side.

[bleachluna]

Letters

Ended up skipping day 2 of @hitsukarinweek as I had no ideas for it but here’s my fic for day 3! Also on AO3

Dear Toshiro,

Can you please explain to me how the hell Soul Society managed to copy mobile phones from humans, and even put hollow tracking technology in them, but didn't make them able to send stuff across realms? I know you explained that SS phones in soul society can only contact those in soul society, and when they're here in the human world they can only contact those here, but I only realised how ridiculously stupid that is until after you left. What if there's an emergency and you need to contact someone across realms for whatever reason? Surely you need to get this fixed, I cannot believe if I want to talk to you I'm stuck writing letters like it's the 1800s. I'm even writing more formally than I expected, apparently letter writing brings it out of me and I absolutely hate it. You've gotta fix it. Not to mention I'm not a fan of leaving letters for Urahara to pass on for me, I'm not totally convinced he won't read them.

Anyway, it's been a couple of months since I saw you last. That's probably a good thing, that a captain hasn't been needed here, but I'll admit I wonder about you sometimes, I hope everything is ok on your end! I don't know what it was about turning sixteen but all of a sudden all of this stuff about trying to figure out careers is on me constantly. Yuzu figured out years ago that she wanted to go into healthcare, she took to it way back when we were kids. She was originally planning to go into nursing but her grades have improved a lot recently, she might be a doctor instead, but she's also thinking about midwifery. So there's stuff she's gotta figure out for sure, but at least she knows what area she wants to go into? I don't even have that. I mean how do you figure out what to do with the rest of your life when you're sixteen? I haven't even figured myself out yet. How did you decide to become a shinigami?

Other than that though things are ok. School is a little stressful because grades suddenly feel so much more important, but the work's manageable at least. Hollow level seems to be stable at the minute too which is great, one less thing to worry about! And Urahara improved his reiatsu blocking bracelet thing, I've had this one for almost four months and it hasn't broken so even less chance of getting eaten! Always a plus. But anyway, I hope things are good on your end as well, and that you aren't buried up to your ears in paperwork. Let me know if you ever have any plans to pop up in the human world!

Best Wishes,

Karin

P.S. - I sent this on the 22nd of June, let me know when this gets to you/when you send yours, I wanna know what sort of delivery time we're looking at here.

- - - - -

Dear Karin,

I don't even remotely have the skills or know-how to fix something like that, that's what the Research & Development Team is for. I agree it's a little daft that our mobile phones can't send things across realms, but I'm sure said team knows this and is likely working on it, as you said, it would be unfortunate in an emergency situation. Plus I know Urahara can be a little eccentric, but do you really think he'd read the letters? I'm sure it's fine.

It is a good thing I've not been needed, the last thing Karakura needs is more trouble and destruction. Have they managed to rebuild that major bridge you were talking about yet? Everything is alright here, or at least in my division anyway. I've been kept busy recently, a set of students graduated from the academy last month so I've had 18 new recruits to introduce to squad 10. As for the careers stuff, I honestly assumed from the work you did here and there for the clinic that you were interested in healthcare as well, I take it that's not actually the case then? Do you at least have rough ideas of the sort of thing you'd want to go into? I'm not sure I'll be much help in that respect, I can't wrap my head around half of the jobs that seem to exist in the human world. In some ways I had it easier, the choice was out of my hands. My reiatsu was getting stronger and Hyorinmaru came to me before I even knew what was happening, I needed to go to the academy to make sure my reiatsu didn't become dangerous, therefore I became a shinigami. I never had to wonder what to do with myself in terms of employment.

I'm glad to hear things are going well with you, I'm certainly glad to hear you don't have to worry as much about the bracelet breaking. Is your reiatsu still increasing? If it's stabilising that might be part of why this new bracelet is managing better. I know you're not particularly interested in getting involved with shinigami stuff, which frankly I agree with, but if your reiatsu is still increasing I do think it's worth training you to hide it properly. I am unfortunately always at least a little buried in paperwork, particularly recently with the new recruits, but it's manageable. I don't think I'll be in the human world soon, but I will let you know if I plan to.

Best Wishes,

Toshiro

P.S. - I got your letter on the 2nd of July, I should be handing this letter over to be sent on the 4th, schedule permitting.

- - - - -

Dear Toshiro,

Well I hope you make sure that the research team are working on it, because this really is ridiculous. And you're kidding right? I trust Urahara about as far as I can throw him, which is probably all of three feet.

The bridge is still being rebuilt, but I think they're in the last stages now thank god. All the diversions needed really messed with the traffic, maybe I can finally stop leaving the house half an hour earlier just to get to my soccer club. It's supposed to be twenty minutes max by bus and it's been taking easily twice that. Let me know if you find out which shinigami it was that released their zanpakuto on that bridge, I have some choice words for them.

An entire class of students graduated and you only got 18 newbies at the tenth? Was it a small class or is that the normal kind of numbers you see? I assumed there's like, thousands and thousands of shinigami, is there less than I thought? Is that why I only ever see you and Rukia besides the dude who's currently stationed here? And I don't know about going into healthcare, that's my whole problem! I don't know what I want. Healthcare is fine but I don't feel like it's my life purpose to go into it either so yeah, I don't know. Healthcare would be alright, sports would be cool maybe? But I don't think there's a whole lot of sports careers outside of professional (which is definitely not happening) or teaching, and I'm not convinced I'm the teacher type. I just don't seem to have this strong urge to go in a particular direction like Yuzu does. But wow, I didn't know that, you basically HAD to train to be a shinigami? I didn't know that was a thing that could happen, that your reiatsu can go that far on its own. That kind of sucks though doesn't it? That you had no choice? I hope you enjoy being a shinigami at least.

To be honest I think my reiatsu probably is still going up. I don't think it's as quick as it was before, it's settled a little bit, probably because there hasn't been much danger around recently, but I do think it's still inching up. Is that a huge issue? Obviously it became a huge issue with you so now I'm kinda nervous. I'm not gonna get kidnapped into the shinigami am I? I can train to hide my reiatsu without actually becoming a shinigami right? Frankly I trust you more on this than Urahara. And you better let me know in advance if you can, Yuzu says she wants to make you those dumplings you liked again.

Best Wishes,

Karin

P.S. - I got excited at first thinking that sending these took less than two weeks, that didn't seem that bad considering we're sending them via Urahara whenever someone comes through realms, but then your letter took almost a month to come, it arrived on the 27th :( I'm handing this letter over on the 28th.

- - - - -

Dear Karin,

The Research & Development Team is not under my command, they belong to the twelfth, I cannot make sure that they're working on it, but I shall ask at the next opportunity I get. I think you're selling yourself short, I'm sure you could get at least five feet, but I do see your point, I can't say I fully trust him either, not on an individual basis anyway. I trust him to want the best for everybody, and to work towards that, but I don't think he pays attention to what that means for the individuals in the situation. More of a 'the end justifies the means' sort of person from what I've heard. And I'm afraid I have no idea who it was who damaged the bridge, but given they were fighting a powerful hollow at the time I imagine it was the correct course of action. Better on the bridge than in the middle of town.

I get the impression there is less shinigami than you think. Most squads have just over two hundred or so members, so 18 new recruits is actually a pretty good year. As for why you only really see me or Vice-Captain Kuchiki, it's a combination of needing a strong enough shinigami to deal with the sort of problems that crop up in Karakura, while also needing said shinigami to have a vague clue on how to navigate the human world. Vice-Captain Kuchiki presumably has rather extensive knowledge having lived in the human world for months, and I've been known to visit for years so they know I'm alright with being there as well. I think it's alright to not have an idea of a 'life's purpose' when you're in your second year of high school. Maybe just pick something for now as a sort of in-between while you continue working out what it is you want? Sometimes a job is just a job after all. You could always try a career in sports and see how it goes if it interests you now, and switch later on? I'm sure you'll figure something out. I'll admit I was definitely reluctant to train as a shinigami at first, it was never something I wanted originally, so it was hard to deal with to begin with I suppose, but I don't mind it these days. It's stressful, but at least I'm doing something where I'm trying to keep people safe, that suits me well enough.

Unfortunately yes, in my case my reiatsu continuously going up was an issue, but I don't think it's as serious with you. Firstly, you've not got a zanpakuto knocking on your subconscious as far as I know (the telltale giveaway is weird dreams where someone/something is trying to talk to you and tell you it's name, in case you were worried about that), and the people around you aren't vulnerable. You're unlikely to cause issues with your reiatsu because everyone around you has some degree of spiritual power already. As for the other questions, I certainly hope you won't be kidnapped into the shinigami, and I don't think your brother or even Urahara would let that happen, but it's possible you'll get Soul Society's attention if it keeps going unchecked. Of course with Urahara keeping on eye on it and keeping the reiatsu blocking bracelet on you, I'd argue that it's largely taken care of and shouldn't get other shinigami on you. There isn't much shinigami training you can do without becoming a shinigami, but you can learn to withdraw and hide your reiatsu even as a human so don't worry about that. I would say to ask your brother but he's never been very good at controlling his, Urahara is your other option, or possibly Vice-Captain Kuchiki if she's around. Or if those don't work out and your reiatsu gets to a point where you're truly worried about it let me know, I'll train you in it myself if it comes to it. Also, I appreciate the thought but your sister doesn't need to go to trouble like that for me.

Best Wishes,

Toshiro

P.S. - I got your letter on the 17th of August. I think it's safe to say they take anywhere from over a week to just under a month to arrive each time.

- - - - -

Dear Toshiro,

Let me know what the research team says! If they say they're not working on it please heavily suggest that they do, and if they say they are working on it, please ask how long they think it'll take them. Just think how much easier communicating would be if we could just call each other. The end justifies the means is EXACTLY Urahara's vibe, which is exactly why I don't really trust him. So yeah, it wouldn't even remotely surprise me if he's been reading these the entire time, better to assume the worst and be pleasantly surprised than the other way around. I suppose you have a point about the bridge being a better location than in the middle of a bunch of people, I'll put up with inconvenient travel times over unnecessary death.

Only a little over two hundred per squad? There is less than I thought! That's way less than your average university over here, that's crazy! 18 newbies is good in that case, your squad must be pretty popular. And no wonder I only really ever see you or Rukia, you guys clearly need to work on getting more people up to the speed with the human world or you're gonna end up over-worked! I guess I could just go for sports now and switch later? I don't know, you kinda get it into your head that you've gotta figure out what you want and stick to it, but I guess there's nothing actually stopping me from changing paths later. Once school goes back in I'm gonna get a meeting and talk to the careers lady, see what she says. I'm glad you're alright with being a shinigami now, hopefully it isn't stressful too much of the time.

Well, I'll take your word for it, you know more than me on this but I'm still kinda wary. You're right that there's no zanpakto trying to get my attention so far at least so that's something. If I do get kidnapped by the shinigami I'm trusting you to break me back out, but yeah that is kind of the whole point of the bracelet, that it blocks off my reiatsu from others so hollows can't find me so easily (and shinigami apparently, yeesh) so hopefully this won't actually be an issue. I don't really want to ask Urahara to train me but I will if I have to I guess. Asking Rukia's a good idea though! I'll ask whenever she next pops up, she seems like she'd be good at that sort of thing, maybe that'll solve this whole situation. Or you know, you, if you happen to come sooner, whoever comes to the human world next I guess! I'd feel better knowing that I myself could do the thing the bracelet's doing. Although I do have a question, how do you do it in your sleep? Or is it not possible and you're just vulnerable a third of the time? That seems unfortunate. Also you're kidding right? Cooking is the primary way my sister shows her care and affection, if she wants to cook for you there's no stopping her so you can at least give us notice so we can get ingredients and stuff.

Best Wishes,

Karin

- - - - -

Dear Karin,

I will let you know what the research team says as soon as it actually comes up. I can see your point, I suppose it is better to plan for the worst and be pleasantly surprised otherwise. Good to see you have your priorities in order, is the bridge finally finished though?

I remember being surprised by the size of your high school, I assume universities are even bigger? Must be an administrative nightmare to keep track of all those students, I feel like I can have a hard enough time with the 226 members I have. Squad 10 was surprisingly popular this year, the only other squads who had numbers like that were the sixth and the eleventh, both of which always have high numbers. We did have 'human world' classes at the academy at one point, but they ended up being scrapped a decade or so ago, any information learned was rendered almost completely obsolete within a few years, meaning the stuff the students learned was more or less useless by the time they were actually getting stationed in the human world. These days we just give a brief information pack about the human world before they leave, currently being updated semi-regularly by Vice-Captain Kuchiki. Meeting with a staff member whose job it is to deal with career pathways certainly sounds like a good idea, I hope it goes well if it hasn't already taken place.

Once again, I certainly hope Soul Society would try such a thing, it would be incredibly stupid considering I don't think your brother, who damn near took on the whole of Soul Society and pretty much came out on top, would ever let you get kidnapped in the first place. And I'm fairly sure me, a captain, breaking out someone Soul Society captured is probably considered treason of some kind, but I can promise I'll be in your corner one way or another. Not to mention, I don't think most shinigami would be prepared for you anyway, most are too used to sword combat, I don't think the average shinigami would handle your hand to hand very well. I'm sure you've got nothing to worry about. As for hiding your reiatsu in your sleep, generally speaking you just practice it enough that it becomes second nature, most shinigami do it subconsciously after a while, including in sleep, although nightmares and the like can interfere a little bit. Your sister has met me what, three times? She feels strongly enough to cook for me? It really is unnecessary although I'm sure the thought is kind. I did say I'd give you notice if I came to the human world though, our sensors are showing an increase in hollow activity in Karakura recently. We're currently just monitoring, we're holding off for now as it might be temporary, but if it gets worse I'm coming to monitor the situation properly and to make sure no incidents happen with the hollow increase. Judging from the current rate, if it keeps going as is I'll probably be there in two weeks or so. With any luck this letter will arrive before I do but if not, I'll make sure to meet up with you somewhere.

Best Wishes,

Toshiro

- - - - -

Dear Toshiro,

Your letter got here super quick, less than a week after I sent mine! Looks like there's increased shinigami activity to match the hollow activity, which boy, you're not kidding that its increased. My reiatsu's jumped up again and I couldn't tell you if it was a response to all the hollows around, or that the hollows arrived because of me. I really hope it's the former. Hopefully you'll be here soon! I think I could do with the training sooner rather than later and if I'm being honest I'd feel safer. But anyway, in response to your letter:

The bridge is actually finished! Just in time for the increased hollows to fuck it up again I'm sure! Most universities are like 10,000 to 30,000 easy, and I think some are bigger than that? So yeah, only two hundred or so shinigami per squad is insane to me. I'm pretty sure the universities have whole administrative teams just for the purpose, does your squad have an admin person at all or is it just you? When I first found out about the shinigami I didn't think I'd sit here wondering about the bureaucracy of it all but here I am. Oh wow I would've loved to sit in one of those human world classes, would've been hilarious I bet. At least you give newly stationed people something, I imagine the culture shock must be a bit much, I'm sure Rukia's information is very accurate given how much time she's spent here. And the careers meeting is actually in two days, I kinda nervous about it to be honest, but hopefully it'll be helpful.

Well I suppose when you put it that way Soul Society kidnapping me would very much be poking the bear huh? I'm extremely saddened to hear that you wouldn't commit treason for me though, what kind of friendship is this??? But I suppose I'll take comfort in you being 'in my corner one way or another', whatever that means. Does it mean in the event of soul society kidnapping me and forcing me to be a shinigami you'd immediately put me in your squad? That's the vibe I'm getting. But that's good to know about the hand to hand combat and the reiatsu withdrawing while still asleep, I'll bear those both in mind. As for your potential visit, given hollows seem to be popping up left right and centre I'm assuming you're probably coming in a week or so, I'll look out for your arrival! I get the impression this letter isn't going to get to you before you arrive in the human world but just in case it does I'll let you know, Yuzu added the dumpling ingredients onto her shopping list. That means you've gotta be at our house for at least one dinner! Consider it repayment for the training I'm gonna demand from you.

Hope you get here safe,

Karin

[jiejie-eonni-onee-sama]

THE BASTERDS’S ANGELS

Somewhere in a safe place in the French countryside, a group of armed men prepared themselves for the mission they were sent for: killing Nazis and sending fear through the ranks of the Wehrmacht based in France. 

And until now, they managed to accomplish their work, as the German soldiers only knew them as The Basterds. 

Led by Lieutenant Aldo Raine, those volunteers took pleasure in killing and terrifying their foes, as many of the Basterds were Jewish. 

Looking at his men, Aldo smirked: he could not wait to hunt down new Nazis. 

"I know that look. Looking for new scalps, darling?"

Smiling, he turned and saw the woman he cherished the most. 

"You know me too well, honey."

"That's why we're husband and wife!"

"Ya damn right, Winona."

The woman named Winona was, indeed, Aldo's wife. Born in the Cherokee tribe, this woman was the embodiment of the Native American female warrior: athletic, wise, loyal, and brave.

Moreover, she was the only woman in this group. Some people would think that a woman had nothing to do in the U.S. Army.

But quoteth Donny, "She kills more nazis in one day than I kill in three days."

The Cherokee woman has already won the respect of her peers since the first day in France. Besides, she gained a gruesome reputation among the Nazis based in France. They called her "The Cherokee Amazon."

The Apache and the Cherokee: a match made in heaven who took their enemies in hell...

Aldo put his arm around her shoulders:

"Can ya believe it, honey? You and I, in France, killing fascists... How pleasant it is!"

"I agree."

"It's like our honeymoon!"

Winona laughed at this statement.

"Well, a very blood-thirsty honeymoon. But honestly, I would never imagine killing Nazis without you, Aldo!"

"Aw, sweetie! Ya know how to talk to me!" he grinned before kissing her.

A sweet moment interrupted by the booming voice of Donny Donowitz, aka "The Bear Jew."

"Aw, look at those lovebirds!"

"Damn ya, Donny! I was enjoying this moment!"

"We have noticed!" smirked Wicki.

Raine rolled his eyes but smirked. His men are the best among the best, especially when it comes to killing Nazis.

They all came from different backgrounds, had various faiths, but for sure, they were more than ready to wipe out the Third Reich. 

Of course, among his men, there was Donny Donowitz, a sturdy chap from Boston and the other leader of the group. This man gained the nickname of "Bear Jew" after he bashed the skull of dozens of Nazis with his prized baseball bat.

Then, you have Wilhelm Wicki, who fled his native Austria after the Anchlüss. Probably one of the oldest members of this group, his remarkable marksmanship made him a feared sniper.

Sitting next to Wicki was Hugo Stiglitz, a former German soldier. He hated the regime to the core, and he managed to kill 13 Gestapo officers. The Basterds get him out of his jail, and now, Hugo became one of them. More silent than some of his teammates, he easily scared people around him.

Near them, a young man was quietly reading a book, enjoying this peaceful moment. This young man was Smithson Utivich, another Jewish-American soldier. Like his friends, he enrolled in this group to save the remaining European Jews from Nazism's clutches. Even if he was not the most impressive, he excelled at killing Nazis.

The one next to Utivich, who was taking a small rest, was Omar Ulmer, his best friend. A remarkable soldier, Private Ulmer often works along with Smithson and Donny during his missions. Fast and efficient, the Nazis did not stand a chance against him. 

Not far from Omar, his friend Gerold Hirschberg was laughing with his comrades. Hirschberg was considered a loyal and cheerful friend by his fellow Basterds. However, his hot-tempered character made him the official trouble seeker of the group, as he often found himself in danger.

The other man talking with Hirshcberg was named Michael Zimmermann. He has the two roles of driver and explosives expert. The Germans muttered that he was a crazy man who escaped from an asylum. But the truth was that Michael only became mad when he saw a swastika. But for the Basterds, he was a pleasant companion and a joyful friend.

Sitting at his right, his best friend named Simon Sakowitz was tidying his medical stuff. Before the war, he was a brilliant medicine student, but he decided to put his studies on hiatus to enroll in the army. Simon was a skilled and efficient doctor in his group and also an appreciated friend.

Smoking a cigarette, Andy Kagan smirked while looking at his teammates. The young Mister Kagan came from a wealthy family and started a promising acting career in Hollywood until he decided to rescue his people in Europe. He was the spy of the group, a master of manipulation and charm. 

Leaning against a tree, Archie Hicox looked at his allies with a mixture of puzzlement and amusement. This British officer was the last addition to the group. In the beginning, the MI5 spy did not get along with the Basterds, as he saw them as a bunch of crazy rednecks while the others considered him as a snobbish man. But the more they worked together, the most they trusted each other, and mutual respect started to settle between them.

All those men were here in France for one reason: killing Nazis.

Something they excelled, as they did earlier, as they exterminated an entire patrol an hour ago.

Now, they enjoyed a moment of calm to relax before reaching another town. 

Suddenly, Aldo gently stroke Winona's cheek and said:

"Get ready, my lady. We're gonna move!"

"At your orders, Mr. Raine!" smirked the woman as she started to pick up her belongings.

Smiling, the Lieutenant turned to his men and exclaimed:

"Get up, boys! We move!"

"Uh? What? What's going? Are we attacked?" asked Omar, startled.

"Nah, Omar. The Lieutenant just said we're moving. Get up now!" explained Donny.

"Where are we going?" asked Simon.

"Probably somewhere near Fontainebleau. At least, we have to get closer to Paris," replied Utivich.

"Exactly, Smitty! I hope I will have time to pay my debt off once we got there!" sighed Zimmermann as he finished packing up his stuff.

As he picked his backpack, Hirschberg noticed Hugo, who trimmed his knife in his bag. Smirking, the young Basterd came nearer to his comrade. A little game that Andy and Wicki had noticed.

"Oh my Lord! Here we go again! Will Hirschberg never learn his lessons?" sighed the Austrian.

"I wonder how it will end this time: will Hirschberg have a kicked butt or a broken nose?" smirked the American.

Meanwhile, Gerold was close to Hugo and said with an authoritative tone:

"C'mon, Stiglitz! Hurry up! We have to go!"

The German deserter turned and glared at his teammate:

"Lass mich in Ruhe, Hirschberg."  (Leave me alone, Hirschberg).

"Why do I fear the worst?" sighed Simon as he pinched the bridge of the nose.

He counted how many times he healed the bruises on Hirschberg after the latter tried to pick up on someone stronger than him.

At the same time, Hirschberg teased Hugo while the latter tried to contain his anger. But his patience was running thin... 

"Ich werde es dir nicht zwei mal sagen." (I won't tell you twice).

"Aw, come on! Don't look at me like that! I am trying to tell you that you're a bit slow!"

"Stop that, Gerold! You're going to regret it!" smirked Andy.

Indeed, Hugo was pissed off by Gerold. Fuming, he took his knife and put it on Hirschberg's throat.

"Leave me alone. Now!" growled the German man.

Gulping, the young Basterd raised his hands in defeat.

"O-OK, Stiglitz. I stop. Can you lower your knife, please?"

Growling, Hugo put his knife back in his vest while Gerold ran away.

"We told you that you're going to have trouble, Geri!" snickered Michael.

As for Wicki, he turned to Hugo and asked:

"War es notwendig, Hirschberg einen Schrecken einzujagen, Hugo?" (Was it necessary to scare Hirschberg, Hugo?)

"Er ist eine Nervensäge." (He is a pain in the ass.) snarled Hugo as he walked towards Donny and Omar.

Wilhelm rolled his eyes and muttered:

"Ich schwöre bei Gott, die würden mich wahnsinnig machen!" (I swear to God, they would drive me crazy!)

"C'MON, BOYS! WE HAVE A LONG ROAD!" yelled Aldo as he led the march along with Winona.

Soon, all the commando started their long road across the French countryside. Unbeknownst to them, they were about to make an encounter that would change their lives for a long time...

Meanwhile, Maddie and Ada wandered through the forest, looking for shelter.

A little earlier, they had almost been spotted by a German patrol, which had scared them.

Now, their priority was to find a safe place while they waited for help.

As they walked through the woods, Maddie saw a cave:

"Look, aunty! A shelter!"

"Well done, Maddie! Let's go!"

They rushed to the hiding place and checked that nothing was inside.

Once assured that they were alone, Ada ordered her niece:

"Listen to me, Maddie: you're going to stay here and make no noise, okay?"

"What about you? What are you going to do?" asked the little girl.

"I'll try to find something to eat. Keep quiet, do you understand?"

Maddie nodded. Smiling, Ada stroked her head:

"I'll be back soon, I promise!"

Then, she walked away while Maddie hid behind a rock.

The young girl hated being alone. Of course, she knew that it was necessary. But the truth was that she was scared.

She was afraid to be alone, at the mercy of the Germans. After all, what could a seven-year-old girl do when faced with armed soldiers?

And then, who knew what could happen to her aunt?

Well, the little girl knew that Ada was capable of defending herself. But if anything happened to her, she would not be able to survive.

Suddenly, she heard voices and footsteps approaching the cave. Covering her mouth and trying to be as hidden as possible, Maddie tried to figure out who had just arrived.

She kept her ears open and listened to the conversation:

"Great, guys! We can stop here!"

"Finally, it's about time! We must have been walking for hours, and my legs are killing me!"

"Stop complaining, Gerold!"

"Oh no! You're not going to start bickering again!"

Maddie was intrigued: these people seemed to be speaking in English. Well, at least she wasn't dealing with Nazis, which was good news.

But what were these people doing here?

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't hear anyone enter the cave until a man's voice asked:

"What on earth are you doing here?"

Horrified, she looked up and saw a medium-sized man staring at her with a surprised look.

As for Omar, he did not expect to find a child alone in a place like this.

He called his boss:

"Lieutenant, come and see!"

"What?" asked Aldo, who arrived in his turn and saw the little girl.

"Look at that! It's quite funny!"

"What's going on?" asked Wicki.

For all answers, the two men came out of the cave, escorting Maddie. The little girl was looking at the rest of the group with a frightened look.

"It seems that our hideout already had an occupant!" declared Hicox.

"But who's crazy enough to leave a kid all alone in the wild?" exclaimed Michael.

"I don't know," muttered Andy.

Simon, in his role as a doctor, walked over to the girl:

"I need to check her out. Who knows, maybe she needs treatment?"

"Do your job, doc!"

Sakowitz kneeled in front of Maddie and asked her:

"Do you speak English?"

She hesitantly replied with a small voice:

"Y-Yes, doctor!"

"Aw, ain't she cute?" smiled Donny.

"Low your voice, Don. She is scared!" said Winona while looking at the young girl.

Meanwhile, Simon carefully examined Maddie. He realized that she might suffer from malnutrition.

"Oh God, look how thin she is!"

He turned to Aldo.

"Lieutenant, do we have some food to give her?"

"For sure! Omar, gimme some bread, would ya?"

"Right now, sir!" replied Ulmer as he threw a piece of bread.

Raine caught it and handed the bread to Maddie.

"Here, ya can have some!"

Hesitantly, the little girl took the bread and muttered:

"Thank you!"

"Cute and polite: you must be a lovely little person!" smirked Archie.

Maddie took a bite and ate slowly, enjoying the taste of the bread.

"Poor little thing! She must not have eaten for days!" declared Wicki.

Winona came nearer and asked:

"What's your name, little one?"

Once she finished her mouthful, the little girl replied:

"Maddie Mandelbaum!"

"Okay, Maddie. Now, tell me: what are you doing here, all alone?"

Looking around, Maddie replied:

"It's because I flee!"

"What do you flee?"

For an answer, Maddie picked her necklace and showed a silver Star of David.

That's all it took for the Basterds to understand what Maddie was trying to escape.

"I see... You're a Jew, right?"

The little girl nodded.

"I see... But what are you doing by yourself?"

"I'm not alone: my auntie went to get food."

"Well, okay. And what's your auntie's name?" asked Smithson.

A female voice answered:

"Why don't you ask me?"

Everyone turned to Ada, who was holding a bag over her shoulder.

The young woman looked suspiciously at this troop. Even though they were not wearing Wehrmacht uniforms, she did not want to take the risk of crossing paths with Gestapo soldiers.

"Well, I guess you're the famous aunt?" asked Omar.

"Indeed. I am Adela Mandelbaum. And you?"

"We are American... with a German deserter, an American-Austrian soldier, and a British officer," replied Andy.

Sighing with relief, Ada put down her bag.

"At least there's some good news in this mess!"

Maddie rushed to her aunt and said:

"Ce sont des gens bien, tata. Ils m’ont donné du pain!"  (They're good people, Auntie. They gave me bread!)

Aldo walked over to Ada and introduced himself:

"Lieutenant Aldo Raine, nice to meet ya. So like this, you're the one who manages survival?"

"Yes, indeed."

"I see. And how long have ya been alone?"

"I don't know. I'm more concerned about escaping the Germans than counting the days."

Aldo nodded before replying:

"And I suppose you're hiding because you're Jewish, Imma right?"

Ada sighed.

"Exactly."

Donny spoke up:

"Lieutenant, we can't leave them alone. They'll get caught by the Krauts!"

"But they're civilians: we can't afford to have potential targets with us!" grumbled Hirschberg.

Hugo glared at him:

"Put yourself in the kid's shoes: would you like to be left at the mercy of those sickos? I don't think so."

Simon added:

"Besides, if they stay with us, they'll be safe. What do you think, Lieutenant?"

Raine massaged the back of his neck, doubtful.

"It's true that having two civilians with us can be a problem..."

He met his wife's gaze as she stared at him pleadingly. And if there was one person who could make Aldo Raine give in, it was Winona.

He sketched a smile:

"But as ya seem to me two brave women, it seems logical to me that ya stay with us!

This decision was greeted with enthusiasm by the rest of the team.

"I thank you for your help."

"No worries. After all, several of my guys are Jewish."

The young woman asked:

"Before I forget, Lieutenant Raine..."

"Yes, Miss?"

"What is your mission here?"

At these moments, she saw all the Basterds sketch a toothy grin. And the Lieutenant's answer did not hide their intentions:

"We parachuted into France for one mission and one mission only: to kill Nazis!"

Hugo asked:

"Doesn't that cause you problems?"

At these words, he saw a gleam in Ada's eye that he knew all too well. He could see the sorrow and hatred for the Nazis in her brown orbs.

And the determined tone of her voice confirmed his impression:

"On the contrary, it pleases me to hear that my people are being avenged. Hitler's foot soldiers stole my life and threatened my niece. I lost my family, and I don't know if they are alive or if those Gestapo goons shot them!"

She turned to Aldo and declared:

"Lieutenant, I know I look like a simple damsel in distress, but I want revenge. I want to make them pay for the evil they've done."

Impressed by this sudden determination, Aldo asked:

"What can ya do?"

"I'm an excellent shot, and I can fight."

"That's not so ladylike, coming from a young woman!"

Ada smiled:

"Who said I was ladylike?"

"My aunt is the best in the world... right after Mom!" pointed Maddie.

Aldo smirked and held out his hand.

"In that case, welcome to the team, Ada! Just so you know, if you join this commando, you owe me 100 Nazi scalps!"

Without hesitation, Ada grasped the outstretched hand and shook it in agreement.

"I will settle that debt, Lieutenant. And I will die trying if I have to!"

"That's what I like to hear!"

"But I want you to promise to look out for Maddie, no matter what!"

"PROMISED!" exclaimed the Basterds.

At that moment, Maddie's face lit up with an adorable smile that seemed to shine through the dim light of the Fontainebleau woods. Now she had nothing to fear from the Germans because now she had found guardian angels armed with guns and baseball bats. 

As for Ada, it was a new life for her that began. She was not a prey anymore. Now, she was the predator. 

The Germans better start running because she won't have mercy. And Ada Mandelbaum always kept her words... 

Thanks for the reading!

Stay tuned for the next chapter!

@sergeant-donny-donowitz​ @marilynmonroefanfics​ @velvet-waltz​ @ocfairygodmother​ @redrosewritingsstuff​ @empress-writes​ @jokersqueenofchaos​ (whom I thank for the German translation) @fandoms-are-my-friends-1321​ @knives-out17​ @multific​ @cherryplasmids​ @askthebasterds​ @nataschalena2​