#like I even found it within myself to pass the math I-STEP and I fell asleep during that one!

[arctic-hands]

The galling thing about being forced to drop out by the school itself was that even with all the school I missed being out sick, I was a damn good test taker, and in the No Child Left Behind Years that meant I was funding the school, but for some reason that was lesser priority than the attendance record

[dumdumsun]

Forever and Never

A/N: Welcome back, luvs ❤️ Glad to have you back

Warnings: mentions of marijuana

Word Count: 2876

—————————————

Two: Gotta Have Soul

“What was school like for you?”

“Like, a regular school day?”

“Yeah, like a regular school day.”

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

A normal day of school for me was like walking around in a glass bubble. This isn’t a metaphor for personal space, but rather the concept of fitting in. Clearly, I fit in at school, but not in the way I expected to. I could walk amongst my peers and smile in their faces, talk with them, but it’d be difficult to hear through the glass of my bubble. We could reach out to each other and hope for a connection, but our hands would forever be disconnected by the glass. But they seemed to be fine with it. They didn’t want to come into my bubble, they just wanted to admire me from the outside. And I supposed I was fine with that, as well. It wasn’t like I opened my bubble for anyone, even invited anyone inside. I let Dina in once and got paranoid. Paranoid that she’d take up the air, that she’d hate my bubble and what I’d have to offer within it. So, I did what I thought was best and kindly asked her to leave. Assured her that she could maybe come back another time, when I was ready. As the sweet and considerate person that she was, she had no problem with it.

Stan didn’t need to live in a glass bubble because he didn’t need to fit in. And I’ve never needed to open the bubble myself to allow him access. He was welcome anytime and entered as he pleased. He was the only person who understood me. I realize that we had more in common than I thought. No one understood our fashion senses, our tastes in music, the way we preferred to keep to ourselves. I could breathe around him and smile and laugh, I mean actually laugh. It was just a shame it all had to wait until after school. Stan and I lived in two different worlds at school. Sometimes I’d catch a ride with him if he left his house the same time I did mine. The second we would set foot on the school campus, we were strangers. It wasn’t that we were embarrassed of each other, I just think Stan was intimidated by the crowd I attracted. Hell, I was intimidated by the crowd I attracted. I’d much rather be walking down those halls with Stan, Dina, and Sydney (if she was comfortable with me). Luckily, I had classes with each of them.

I had nearly every class with Dina, save for honor choir and theatre classes. We found a way to sit near each other in every class we had and talked about everything and nothing for the entire hour. Half of my classes were with Stanley, and those hours were full of glancing at each other and playfully winking or blowing kisses. He’d pass me notes old-school style, but always avoided the route that would lead to either Ricky or Brad. We had a couple of run-ins that led to them teasing Stan before the note could even reach me. Study hall was one of the only times Stan and I would actually sit together and talk in school. Sometimes we’d study, sometimes we’d skip and go smoke outside. Nonetheless, we’d make the most out of our time together.

I only had two classes with Sydney and both included Dina, so there still wasn’t much going on between us at school. She wasn’t as active in gym class as we were, so it was a lot of her cheering us on when we played basketball or dodgeball. She was usually the person to hand me Stan’s notes in science, having to dodge Ricky and Brad’s grabbing hands so that I could quickly snatch it. Luckily, I only had two classes with Ricky and Brad, and they both included Dina and Stan. So, I was never trapped in an uncomfortable situation with Ricky before their eyes.

Science was the most chaotic class for me. Not only did I not care for the subject, but my seat was away from both Stan and Dina. I was nearly sandwiched between Ricky and Brad, which set me on edge most days. Despite this, I simply tried my best to focus on my school work. “And yes, during arousal, there is an increase in all sorts of things, including adrenaline and, of course, blood flow,” Mr File droned on as I wrote down notes in my notebook. Dina always said she thought it was cute how I used different colors for each day. Little did she know, once I started this system, I couldn’t stop it. This was to the point that I had to buy a set of pens for each class. I couldn’t use my green math pen for my Tuesday science class. “And the blood flow continues down and then gets trapped within the corpora cavernosa. The penis expands, and this is how the Homo sapien male is able to hold an erection. Yes?”

My attention was diverted to Bradley, who raised his hand. Once he was called on, he set his hand back down and straightened his posture. “From my experience, Mr File, the holding of an erection is far more successful in the hands of a Homo sapien female.” His inappropriate joke sent an eruption of laughter throughout the classroom. I rolled my eyes in irritation.

“Very funny, Mr Lewis.” Mr File deadpanned.

“Just talkin’ science.”

“Moving on.” As my teacher turned back to the chalkboard, Ricky and Brad reached over my head to high five each other. I scoffed and continued on with my notes. From the corner of my eye, I saw Ricky turn around to speak to Sydney.

“Ah. Oh, come on, fire crotch. Laugh. That was funny.”

“Don’t be a prick, Ricky,” I hissed, the boy’s head snapping over to me. “It wasn’t even that funny.���

Ricky tilted his head at me and gave a soft smile, his hand reaching over and clasping around my wrist. “Okay, babe, I’ll leave your friend alone-”

“And don’t call me babe.” I yanked my wrist from his grasp. He froze, shocked, his mouth opening and closing as if at a loss for words.

“Mr Berry, if you could take your eyes off of Ms (Y/L/N) for one second to listen to my lecture, that would be very much appreciated.” At the sound of Mr File’s voice, Ricky quickly turned forward and returned to his notes.

“I’ll definitely try my best, sir.” He smirked, Bradley chuckling and reaching over my head again to give his friend another high five. My eyes fell on Stanley, who was watching the interaction in annoyance. When his gaze met mine, he gave me a sympathetic look. I only held my fingers in the position of a gun up to my temple and pretended to fire it. He shook his head in amusement before turning his attention back to Mr File. Glancing over my shoulder, I watched as Sydney glanced between Dina and our teacher before her gaze settled on me. She gave me a small smile and mouthed a ‘thank you’. I winked at her and gave a thumbs up. That was the start of one of the very few friendly interactions we’d have throughout the week.

On my way home from school that day, I spotted Syd and ran to catch up with her. “Hey, Sydney.” I grinned, the girl jumping a bit when I appeared by her side.

“O-Oh. Um, hey, Zip.”

“You don’t have to call me that,” I chuckled. “You’re normal.”

She smiled and stared down at her feet. “Uh… Why are you walking with me?” I frowned at her question, but she raised her head quickly. “Like, no offense, but… you usually just… keep to yourself. Or you get a ride from Stanley.”

“I stayed after for theatre rehearsal,” I shrugged. “But we never talk. We’re neighbors, Syd. And we’re both friends with Dina. Isn’t it weird we never talk?”

“Yeah… Yeah, I guess it is.”

“I’m not saying we should hang out everyday and tell each other secrets, but… you know.”

“No, yeah, I get it. I mean, Dina likes you… So does everyone else, so you must be really cool to be around.”

“Well, that’s something you can find out for the both of us. Because I still don’t get it…” I turned my head forward, my voice trailing off. We continued our journey home in comfortable silence, every now and then striking up pebble throwing contests. Sydney had a really nice smile. It was a shame she didn’t use it much. When we reached my street, our walk didn’t last much longer. “Here’s my stop.” I announced, stepping away towards the mailbox to retrieve our mail. Sydney nodded with a smile.

“I’ll, uh… I’ll see you tomorrow-”

“Oh, hey, Syd!” Stan’s voice called out. We both turned our heads to see him getting up from his porch, making his way to the middle of the street to meet Syd. “And my lovely Zip.”

“Hey, beautiful.” I winked, pulling out a couple envelopes from the box. Stanley chuckled fondly at me before looking back to Syd, who was waiting expectantly.

“Oh, my leg fell asleep. One sec,” He then began shaking and stretching his leg, Sydney standing by awkwardly. The sight alone was enough to have me quietly laughing to myself. Stan let out a sigh once he was done and planted his foot back on the ground. “Can I walk with you?”

“Sure. Why not?” Syd shrugged. Stan smiled and turned forward with her.

“Cool.”

As they walked away, I noticed one of the envelopes was addressed to me. Maybe a bit too enthusiastically, I ripped it open. Inside was a lonely check. No note. Just like last time. And the time before that. Taking out the check, my eyes bulged at the number written down. Four hundred dollars?! Four hundred fucking dollars from Dad in two weeks! I tried to think of the upcoming dates. Was Aunt Pam’s birthday coming up? Uncle David’s? Jacob’s? No one’s. So… why did Dad send me twice as much this time? My head lifted to find Stanley happily dancing back up to his house, twirling and jumping with his bare feet. I laughed at the sight. As he descended the slope to his house, he motioned for me to follow. Setting the mail on the porch swing, I pocketed my check and hurried down to Stan’s.

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

“What about this one?” I held up Elton John’s Goodbye Yellow Brick Road on vinyl. “I love me some Elton John.”

“Whatever you want, Nugget.” I heard him from the couch. Satisfied with my decision, I put the music on, nodding to the beat of Crocodile Rock as I joined Stanley on the couch. He had just taken out one of his pre-rolled joints from his case and was lighting it up.

“So…”

“So?”

“What’s up with you and Sydney Novak?” I cheekily grinned, my friend puffing on the smoke as he removed the joint from his mouth. “You wanted to… walk with her?”

“I wanted to hang out with her. We’ve never hung out before. I just thought she’d want more friends.”

“Uh-huh…” I raised a brow, taking the joint when it was offered to me. As I inhaled the smoke, Stan waved me off.

“Whatever. So… what’s been going on with you? It’s been about three weeks since you got back and you haven’t spoken a word about where you disappeared to.”

I quickly handed the joint back as I exhaled, the smoke clouding my vision. “Yeah, I don’t really wanna talk about that…”

“Oh.” Stan cleared his throat.

“Let’s just say it was… very depressing.”

“Well, what about your dad? How’s he been?”

“He’s good, I think. Working in Georgia still. Oh!” I lifted my hip a bit to retrieve the check from my back pocket. “Look at this fucking shit, Stan! My dad sends me a two hundred dollar check every two weeks. But look what I got this time.” Stan leaned over, squinting his eyes as if he weren’t seeing right.

“Four hundred?!”

“Four hundred!”

“Jesus, (Y/N), what does he do?!”

“In all honesty, Stan, I have no fucking idea. He doesn’t like talking about it.”

“Well, that’s not suspicious at all.” Stan mumbled, silencing himself by placing the joint between his lips. It didn’t take too long for our highs to kick in. When they did, we were draped over one another, lazily drawing shapes in the air. I reached over and tickled Stan’s foot, which was just beside my head. He quietly giggled and retracted his foot from me. I laughed loudly and dropped my arm.

“Stan?”

“Yeah?”

“This is where we peak, huh? This is, like, as good as it gets,” I watched as he lifted his head, attempting to make eye contact with me. “Like, we’re not gonna have shit going for us besides a lousy paycheck we slave for. And we’re gonna settle for someone who makes us all feel a little less lonely… or we just end up alone and blame everyone else for it. And then… In, like, ten years we’re gonna go to our high school reunion and then we’re gonna find out that… We all were pieces of shit at the age of seventeen and that’s as good as we got. It’s as good as we’ll ever get,” I pointed to him. “At least, that’s what you told me.”

“Nugget… you talk too much,” He flopped back onto the ground. “But yeah, you’re right. But, like… not you.”

“Not me?”

“No, you’re gonna… move away again. But for good. You’re gonna become the best… damn actress of our time and you’re gonna walk on red carpets and go on talk shows and go ‘Yeah, my best friend Stanley Barber was the best thing that’s ever happened to me’, and then-”

“That’s not how I talk!” I burst out laughing, which triggered his own laughter. We spent the next few moments rolling on the floor, trying to catch our breaths in the midst of our cackling. Even in my haze, I thought to myself, If this is where I peak, I’m the most successful of them all to peak with Stan. How could no one have wanted to hang out with him? He was the only thing that kept me sane most days with his carefree philosophy on life. There was never a dull moment with him. Never a single second of doubt in his ability to make me smile, to make me feel good about myself. And maybe it was selfish to depend on him that much, but I hadn’t even realized I’d been doing it.

When our highs almost completely wore off, I wished Stan a goodbye and headed back home. Entering the house, Jacob was just about to exit. “Oh, hey, Bug-” He stopped and sniffed. “You smell like weed.”

“You’ll live.” I smiled and walked inside. In the kitchen, Aunt Pam was making dinner while dancing to the music on the radio. Upon my arrival, she clapped and went to hug me.

“(Y/N), how was your-” She stepped back and sniffed. “Ugh, you smell like weed…”

“Sorry.”

“I honestly don’t care. But I wanted to tell you that you should call your dad. It’s been a couple of weeks with no call. Remember he said he’d check on you every other day?”

“I remember. I’ll call him right now.” Heading upstairs to my room, I pulled out my cell phone. I accessed my contacts before pressing on my dad’s, holding the phone up to my ear. When the call was answered, there was no greeting. Just faint breathing from the other end. “Uh… Dad-”

“Hey, sweetheart,” He rushed out, sounding out of breath. “What- What did you call for?”

“What did I… Dad, you said you’d call me three times a week. It’s been two weeks with no call.”

“You’re right, you’re right, doll.” He sighed. I frowned in disgust. He never called me ‘doll’. “How’s school going? Straight A’s?”

“Um… not really,” I mumbled as I entered my bedroom, setting my backpack on the ground before flopping on my bed, sighing contently. “A couple of B’s, but I’m trying. Uh, I got the check.”

“Yeah, yeah, your allowance.” He huffed.

“Uh-huh… but you gave me twice as much.”

“Yeah, for homecoming. Pam said it was next week.”

“Oh, yeah…,” I rolled onto my back. “Almost forgot.”

“Yeah, so just… buy yourself something pretty- Listen, sweetheart, I’ve gotta go, but I promise to call you in two days.”

“Okay, Dad. Love you-” I was cut off when he abruptly hung up the phone. Sighing, I let my arm flop down beside my head. If I had to be completely honest, that was normal behavior from my dad lately. Sure, I mentioned he wasn’t present in his mind, but this was different. He was clearly occupied. Very occupied. I brushed it off as him being hard at work, but…

Something told me there was more going on with my Dad. And it scared me.

—————————————

Taglist: @melinda-hargreeves @sapphicsyn @stqnley @lonely-kermit @give-the-boy-a-hug @moatsnow

[probably-writing-x]

Admittance Pt.3

Guzmán x Reader

Request by @twoghostsandelowen : Admittance part 3 where maybe it’s something wrong with the baby or the reader and yk, drama drama. 😋

Warning: Mentions of complications in pregnancy (first trimester)

Telling your Mum was a lot easier than it was with Ander. She was shocked, of course. She questioned a lot about Guzmán and his intentions, your plans and your future, but overall she promised to be supportive- you were old enough to make your own decisions and she knew that.

You and Guzmán both went to the scan together where you watched Guzmán shed a few tears at the sound of the heartbeat. He’d asked a million questions to make sure you and the baby were both going to be healthy. And he’d listened to that heartbeat over and over. He stayed over that night and fell asleep with his hands on your stomach. You were getting better and better at this ‘being friends’ thing and were spending more time together now than you ever had done before - without the need for it to be anything more like it was during summer.

“What about... Miguel?” Guzmán smirks as the two of you walk towards the school doors.

You were only in your tenth week of pregnancy now and he’d already started thinking of names.

“We said we’d wait until later before we go through name ideas, nobody even knows I’m pregnant yet,” You roll your eyes, glancing around and silently thanking that there weren’t any people around.

“I like Miguel, I’m just putting it out there,” He comments, “What lesson are you in first?”

“Maths,” You tell him, knowing that meant he’d walk you to your locker and to the class without a second thought.

He’d barely let you out of his sight whenever he could. He’d either be there with you or texting you, sometimes even texting Ander to check up on you. Guzmán had made it a silent promise that he’d keep you safe at all times - for the baby’s sake and for your own.

“Okay,” He takes your books from you instinctively and carries everything for you as you make your way towards class, “What names do you like?”

“Guzmán!” You exclaim, “If you carry on, it won’t have a name.”

He laughs and glances down at your stomach, “Do you feel sick anymore?”

“No, not as much at least,” You smile with clear relief, “It should be completely gone within the next couple of weeks anyway.”

“Alright, text me if you need me,” He encourages, “See you later (Y/n).”

Ander is already sat down as you walk into class and sit beside him. He makes sure to pull out the chair for you like it had become second nature.

“What’s his latest idea for a name?” Ander comments quietly, glancing up to make sure nobody was listening in to your conversation.

“Miguel,” You roll your eyes, “I like the name but I don’t want to be thinking of stuff like that yet.”

“Give him a break,” Ander nudges you, “He’s just excited.”

You laugh, “Give him a break? You were practically ready to rip his head off a few weeks ago.”

“Things have changed since then, we talked through it.”

- - - - - -

The night after the scan, Guzmán woke up when the sky was still pitch black as the two of you had fallen asleep earlier than you should’ve done. It was only midnight so he found himself walking downstairs to the kitchen - more so thinking that you might need a drink or something to eat when you woke up rather than thinking about himself.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw Ander sat on one of the chairs in the back garden. The two of them hadn’t really spoken much since that evening when Ander first found out and Guzmán dreaded the thought of their first conversation since that point. But there would be no ‘good times to do it.

“Hey, man,” Guzmán says as he steps outside into the slight chill in the air, “Mind if I sit with you?”

Ander glances up and gestures to the empty seat, “What are you doing down here?”

“I came to get (Y/n) something to drink in case she needed it when she woke up, she’s still sleeping,” Guzmán explains, scratching at the back of his neck, “You?”

“Omar’s snoring,” Ander smirks a little, “I keep listening to the audio of the heartbeat.”

“Yeah, me too,” Guzmán smiles, sitting down in the chair and trying to treat this as simply a conversation with his best friend, “It’s crazy that it’s this whole little life inside of her.”

“Guzmán, I know I didn’t react brilliantly when you first told me,” Ander interjects, evidently wanting to get some things off his chest, “But I just need to know that you’ll do right by her and this baby.”

Guzmán takes a deep breath, “I was terrified when she first told me, it was like everything just stopped and everything I thought I was ready for just felt completely irrelevant. But I saw her and the look in her eyes and I knew she was feeling the same. And all I could think about was doing everything in my power to prove she wasn’t going to be alone. I might not be perfect for the job and I’m banking on myself making a lot of mistakes along the way. But I’ll do everything I can to be a Dad, not just the one written on the birth certificate but the one there every step of the way - for both of them.”

Ander can’t help but smile at hearing Guzmán say exactly that, words that had purely come from his heart, “Never thought I’d see you acting so mature.” They both laugh and it’s as if they can feel the tension ease between them with every passing moment from there on out.

- - - - - -

When you finish school that day, you’re quieter than usual and Ander has already noticed. There was a slight discomfort that was already making you cautious. You hadn’t mentioned anything to Guzmán when you’d seen him, you didn’t want to make any sort of big deal and it seemed silly to worry over something like discomfort in pregnancy- that was basically normal right?

Though, it was only later that evening when you first saw a few drops of blood that you started to worry more and more. Was that normal? Everything you’d read hadn’t ever mentioned blood when they spoke about healthy pregnancies. Or was it different for everyone? It seemed like there was no clear cut line of what needed to happen or what you should expect. So why did this feel so wrong?

“Fuck,” You mutter to yourself as tears start to fill up your vision a little.

Part of you had refused to believe that anything could be wrong but you couldn’t possibly continue that belief now.

You find yourself sat on the bathroom floor with trembling hands as you reach for your phone and go straight for Guzman’s number. Each ring until he replies makes you feel a little bit more nauseous, no longer caused by the early stages of your pregnancy but more for the fear of what had happened.

“Guzmán,” You half whisper, “Guzmán I need your help.”

“What? What? Why? What’s happened?” You can already hear him fumbling around on the other end of the phone, most likely stressing and rushing to get out of his house as quickly as possible.

“I don’t know but I think somethings wrong,” You explain, your voice shaking more than your hands as you continue to fall deeper and deeper into a terror fuelled panic.

“Okay, I’m on my way, is anybody home with you?”

“No, Anders out with Omar and Mum is... I don’t know,” You explain, trying with everything to get out each word.

“Okay, okay, don’t worry,” He’s even trying to calm his own voice down, “Just take some deep breaths, and I need you to stay on the phone with me until I’m there. You don’t have to say anything, I just need to keep you on the other end. I’m going to pick you up and we’ll go straight to the hospital.”

You gulp and try to breathe as calmly as possible, a million thoughts rushing through your brain far too quickly to be processed at all.

From that moment on, everything feels like a blur. The most you remember was Guzmán crouching in front of you in the bathroom and wiping away your tears amongst reassuring you constantly that you’d be fine, that they’d get things sorted. He calls the hospital on the way to make sure someone would be there and, luckily, the doctor from your scan was still on shift. Guzmán holds your hand the whole time as he walks you through the corridor until you’re met by the doctor.

You remember him for being comforting, polite, friendly - but tonight, you just need him to tell you that you were okay. No, that the baby was okay.

“You’re welcome to come in as well sir,” The nurse comments as you’re led into the curtain shielded room.

The pleading look in your eyes is only the second thing that makes him not question his actions when he follows closely behind. The first was the fact that he shared the same deep set fear that you did. He was terrified to his core of what news the doctor would give, he’d just been spending this whole time convincing both you and himself that he wasn’t.

They go through all of the necessary checks and the doctor quizzes you on what you’d experienced and asks you details that you have to think back on to remember at all.

“Okay, lets set up a little scan then just to have a listen for baby’s heartbeat,” The doctor nods, prepping everything up until the ultrasound machine begins rolling across your stomach.

Guzmán holds your hand from where he sat on the chair near to the bed and the other is gripping tightly onto the armrest beside him - praying for a noise he never knew he’d learn to rely on so much.

You barely hear it when he mutters under his breath, “We’re okay, we’ll be okay.”

You don’t know who we means. You and him? Or you, him and this baby that tied you together?

The doctor can’t even hold back a smile at the sight on the screen and the noise that echoes through the room as the heartbeat sounds through.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and rest your head back against the pillow like every muscle in you had just relieved it’s panic.

“It’s okay? And (Y/n)’s okay?” Guzmán asks, eyes never tearing away from the doctor.

“I think what you may have been experiencing was just a slight level of spotting due to this being your first pregnancy, it is generally quite common but I think you made the right decision to come in just to check,” The doctor smiles to the both of you, “If you would like, we can see baby on here.”

Guzmán stumbles as he pushes the chair as close to the bed as it can get, “You... I mean... you cou-could see the baby?”

With a chuckle, the doctor turns the screen to face both of you and you’re certain you’ve never seen a sight have such an effect. It’s like everything around you silences. Because there they are. Small and barely recognisable, is the tiny form of the growing body inside of you.

“I’ll give you two a moment,” The doctor nods, freezing the screen on the image of the baby before tidying everything away and leaving the two of you alone.

“See, you’re both okay,” Guzmán smiles, squeezing your hands in his as he presses a kiss to your knuckles.

“Thank you so much Guzmán, I don’t know what I would’ve done if you ha-“

“Hey,” He stops you, “I told you I’d be here and I meant it, for anything.”

You let out a shaky breath, “That’s the baby.”

Guzmán stands up and leans in to press a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering his lips there like he was thanking you a million times over for somehow keeping that baby safe inside of you. You glance up and his eyes drop to yours. And, just for a moment, everything melts away. He dips his head down and presses a soft kiss to your lips, stinging as both of you spill a few tears onto your connected cheeks.

- - - - - -

The next day, you decide to stay off from school and have to continuously force Ander, Omar and Guzmán to still go in. You’d be fine, of course you would be. And you’d reminded them multiple times that they were only one phone call away if you needed anything. Guzmán had already texted you five times this morning about different things, always finishing it with a half-innocent ‘how are you?��

You’d tried not to think too much into that kiss from last night. It still didn’t change anything, you were still just two friends going through the motions of this pregnancy together. Last night had just been a build up of emotion that came out in one moment of relief between you. That was all it was. Right?

Guzmán had been thinking the same all morning, running through the events of the evening right up to that instinctive kiss. He’d been so utterly terrified the the entire time, he couldn’t imagine how you felt. But when he’d kissed you, it felt like it all just eased. You’d seen your baby for the first time and all he could think of was how much adoration he had for you in that exact moment. Did that make things a lot more complicated?

“Hey, I don’t think anything comes out of that if you don’t put money in,” Ander clasps him on the shoulder and snaps Guzmán from his daze.

He hadn’t noticed how he’d been stood staring into the vending machine as his thoughts had taken priority over his actions.

When he turns to look at Ander, his eyes are nearly spilling with a few tears.

“What’s wrong?” Ander frowns, never seeing much of his best friend like this.

“God I was so scared last night man, I was terrified,” Guzmán half whispers, letting a tear slip through as he tries his best to not break down in the middle of the school.

“You said it yourself man, it’s okay. They both are, yeah?” Ander tries to reassure him, still taken aback by seeing Guzmán like this.

“The thought of anything happening... to either of them. God, it kills me,” He leans into Ander and sobs into him, just as Ander had done when he’d told him about tennis.

Ander holds him and lets him cry as though his whole world had come crashing down. And it made Ander realise one thing amongst the madness. That was how it felt for Guzmán. Having lost Marina, lost any relationship he had with his parents, Lu, then losing Polo - Guzmán felt pretty alone in his life. He’d lost a lot of hope. But piece by piece over the past few weeks, he’d been blessed with something that he’d have never expected to find such a blessing in. He’d been given a purpose, something to live and breathe for. And in this unconventional, unplanned situation - he’d found that little pocket of Earth that he could make into his whole world.

[agarariddle-andhernachos]

do you have any more snippets or deleted scenes?👉👈

you know we do. actually, we like writing little snippet from different pov (as we only write Hermione’s or Tom’s), this one, below the cut, is from Pollux pov. We wrote it right after we wrote chp 21 but couldn’t post it. 

just to put a little bit of context, this scene takes place a few days after chp 21 (after Burke’s murder)

20.02.1944 : 

It had stopped after two drinks. Pollux knew what the deal was, when he came alone to Abe’s, the bartender didn’t allow him more than two drinks. Pollux had bargained at first but he had finally understood that Abe wouldn’t change his mind on this topic. He put more galleons than the two drinks were worth on the table and stood up. 

“This is too much,” Abe complained.

“Well, I’ve never been good at maths,” Parkinson chuckled before waving off at the bartender and leaving the pub. 

He secured his scarf tightly around his neck and began what he knew to be a long walk back to the castle. Pollux had thought about coming tonight with the two, Cole and Grace, but with the tension between them, he knew this not to be a good idea. He didn’t know what to feel about this situation. Well, after all, Pollux had been aware of Cole’s feelings way before his friend realised. At first, he had found it great, imagining his two best friends dating, even in love. But after further thoughts put into this issue, Pollux had come to the conclusion that this would not be the ideal situation. If Cole and Grace were dating it wouldn’t be the three of them against the world but Cole and Grace plus Pollux. 

Pollux got into Honeydukes then started walking down the dark corridor. He didn’t like being alone, not because he craved the attention of others, even though some people would say so, but because he knew that when he was by himself he couldn’t stop but think about things. And once he got into this, he just couldn’t get out. He felt like being a captive to his own mind, to the darkness of his thoughts. People usually told him that he spoke too much, joked too much, laughed too much, but what all of them hadn’t realised was that he was too much because his mind kept telling him he wasn’t enough. There, he needed a drink just for the voices within him to stop being too loud, to numb all of this until he couldn’t feel anything. He liked not feeling anything, it was peaceful, quiet. 

Pollux’s steps quickened, as he only wanted to crawl into bed and lose himself to sleep. He got out of the passageway and hurried down the common room. It was quite late so he delicately pushed the door to the common room open and stepped inside. Unconsciously, his eyes landed on the fireplace. He hadn’t yet realised that his eyes always fell on the small spot right beside the coffee table because he knew she was always sitting there. His eyes softened as he saw her small silhouette, sitting on the floor and her knees to her chest. From afar, she seemed calm, quietly looking at the flames. But he knew, Pollux always knew. These moments of silence by herself weren’t always peaceful, they sometimes reflected the storm inside her head. 

Pollux knew she hadn’t seen him come inside, however, when he sat right next to her she wasn’t surprised. They didn’t talk at first, Pollux was simply watching her watch the fire. He knew she could feel his gaze on her face, yet she didn’t move nor acknowledged his presence. 

His eyes lingered on the scar she had on her neck. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from it, it was small, almost invisible but to Pollux, it wasn’t. He would erase it. If he could, he would erase all of the pain he knew she was hiding, all of the signs that proved she had suffered. Then, her arm. Grace was wearing long sleeves, like every day, but he also knew what was underneath. One day, not long after her birthday, she had said something to him. 

She had told him that he had only focused on the words on her arm and not on the fact that someone had carved this into her flesh. He hadn’t been able to think about something else for weeks after this. Actually, this memory was something that usually came back when he was alone. This was part of the darkness haunting him. There again, the thoughts were back, whispering within his brain that he was not mindful of others, that he couldn’t help but being selfish, and that it was this selfishness that drove everyone away from him. 

Cassandre ? Already done, Pollux could only watch from afar the hatred his brother held against him. Cole ? He knew one day he would be too much for him. Pollux was always too much for everyone anyway. But Grace ? Grace wasn’t part of the plan, he didn’t know he would meet her, he didn’t know he would love her. If she left, he’d-

“Pollux ?” Her soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts. His gaze met hers. “You weren’t there for a second.” She knew. How come she always knew when he was spiralling down ? 

Maybe, just maybe, he could tell her everything : the darkness, the fear, the loneliness, the way he couldn’t stand to look at himself in the mirror anymore, the way his mind kept screaming at him, the way he only felt good when he drank. But then, he looked at her eyes and saw the exact same expression. Did she need to tell him everything too ?

“Tell me,” he softly told her. Grace looked startled for a second before turning back her head towards the chimney. Something had changed between them, she wasn’t looking directly straight into his eyes anymore, she wasn’t laughing that much around him. It was probably his fault, it was always his fault anyway. 

“It’s just one of those days when it doesn’t feel right. But what can you do, eh ?” She sadly chuckled. “Tomorrow will be kinder.” 

“What if tomorrow isn’t ?” He asked. 

“You just wait for the next then.” 

Pollux frowned. He had heard this before, millions of times, in his head. Just wait and it’ll pass. You’re just being dramatic, it’ll be better tomorrow. But hearing those words, out of her mouth, it felt wrong. She couldn’t say that, she couldn’t think the same way he did. She couldn’t end up like him. She was too good. 

“Do you sometimes feel like you’re slipping away ?” She asked him in a small voice. “Like, along the way, you’ve lost yourself ? You don’t when or where it happened, but in the end, you’re simply not the same person you once thought you were ?”

Pollux looked at the fire and thought about this. “Why is changing supposed to be bad ? Don’t we all change as we grow up ? Isn’t it part of the process ?”

She put her chin on her knees and closed her eyes. “I don’t recognise myself anymore, Pollux,” she finally acknowledged.  She re-opened them and stared right into the fire. She seemed lost, conflicted, and most of all afraid. “I feel like I’ve- I mean I don’t think I-” She was struggling to get the sentence out. She huffed, in annoyance, and resumed. “Nothing feels like me anymore, and the only thing I could think of is what they would think if they could see me ?”

There was no doubt about who she was referring to. 

“What would they say ? They wouldn’t understand, right ?” She wasn’t talking to him anymore but rambling to herself. Pollux wasn’t sure he followed everything, but he was there. It was enough, right ? “They wouldn’t understand. I am not even sure I understand. And for what ? For what ? I don’t know. I don’t know anymore. I’m just there, watching things get done, knowing what I-” She abruptly stopped and took a deep breath. 

Pollux wasn’t sure of a lot of things in life. He wasn’t sure of what to do in the future, wasn’t sure of what was exactly expected of him, wasn’t sure of what he meant for others even. But Pollux was sure of one thing, Grace Hortense was one of the best things that had ever happened to him.  

“I am aware I don’t have the context to fully understand what you just meant, or what you’re going through, but whatever is happening Grace, I need you to know that you are going to be okay,” he said with such vulnerability that her head snapped towards him. “So maybe you’ve changed, maybe you’re not the same as you once were, but so what ? It doesn’t change the fact that you are good, it doesn't change the fact that you are brave, that you are strong, that you are you, that you are enough. Whatever happens, wherever you are, I am here Grace. I am here, I am here, I am here. It’s you and me against everyone else.” They looked at each other for a second before he whispered, “fuck the universe, remember ?” 

[jocazep]

In the Whole Wide Train | Chapter 6

Pairing: Curtis Everett x Reader (Jo, OFC), slight Edgar x Reader

Warnings: Major spoilers for SNOWPIERCER, dystopian society and its countless problems, mentions of forced abortions, language, violence, deaths, slow burn, eventual smut

Synopsis: Having grown up in the Front Sections of the Snowpiercer, you venture down the train when a rare opportunity presents itself, but the excursion quickly changes flavor when you arrive in the Tail Section.

Taglist: Open until further notice!

Series Masterlis

Chapter Six – Rushing Guards

The next two minutes were utter chaos. You watched in shock as Curtis punched out the nose-breaker, dumped the cart of protein bars onto the ground, and commandeered the steel cart.

Behind you, yells and hollers from the tail-sectioners resonated as they picked up the steel barrel tube, and started moving towards the gates, the head of the tube aimed straight for the steel cart.

A lightbulb set off in your head as you stepped out of the way. So that’s how he’s getting through three gates--someone pushed past you, almost knocking in off your feet. You staggered and turned to see the nose-breaker, having recovered a bit from Curtis’s punch, rushing towards the gate control panel.

Your eyes darted back to Curtis, the barrel tube making contact with the cart. Now’s not the time for half measures. You picked up the useless rifle lying at your feet, and aimed for the nose-breaker’s legs--

THUMP--he fell, his legs swept off the ground. But he was still going for it. So you hooked the belt of the rifle around his legs and hung on for dear life.

Curtis didn’t hear the fall of the guard, as he was pushing the cart into contact with the barrel tube, making mighty noises himself. The vibration was almost numbing his arms. It wasn’t until he had climbed on top of the barrel tube that he realized  you were virtually straddling the guard.

“Jo, get on!” He extended his hand as the barrel started to move forward, a run-down mini-train within a train.

You did some quick math and shook your head. “Three gates in four seconds!” was all you managed to get across to him before the tube thundered past, taking Curtis beyond your field of vision.

Curtis zipped past gate after gate, his heart thumping in his throat. He could hear the revolt building behind him, as the sound of fists, feet, and blunt force trauma got closer and closer. Physical memories buried so deep within him started bubbling up, waking a side of him that had been asleep for almost eighteen years.

Instinct took over as Curtis jumped off the tube into the prison section. The prison guards, caught by surprise, were quickly dispensed with, as Edgar, Tanya, and several more joined Curtis in batting them. You tagged along, catching up with Curtis as you hopped off the tube.

But you had barely managed to catch your breath before a long shadow was cast across the room--it’s the giant you mentioned in your letter.

Everyone looked up, awestruck and terrified of the hulking beast of a man. Standing at nearly seven feet, the gigantic prison guard thundered near, whatever his fault in agility more than made up for by his sheer brute force, as he swung what looked like a steel weight at the lot of you.

“Careful!” You, Curtis, and everyone else tried to back away from the giant guard as quickly as you can, but in the confused shuffle, feet were stomped and movements were caught.

Before you could realized it, the steel weight was headed for your face. It was all you could do to throw up your arms as protection, but when the heaviness made impact, all you could hear was a ringing in your ear, and Curtis’s voice calling--

“Jo!”

---

You woke up to the nauseating smell of Kronole, and a massive headache. When your eyes steadied, Edgar came into focus in front of Tanya and other tail-sectioner, his hand holding the cube of Kronole. It was all you could do to not puke as you shoved the Kronole cube away from your face.

“If I don’t die from the concussion, you will have killed me with fume poisoning.”

Edgar let out a laugh, more or less relieved that you’re well enough to be annoyed with him, “Welcome back, Jo.”

You struggled to sit up, and felt Curtis’ arm supporting your back. Which is when you realized that you had been lying in Curtis’s arms. Your eyes whipped to see Curtis, his brows furrowed, his eyes full of concern.

"Careful," Curtis wrapped his other arm around your front, putting his leg behind you as a cushion.

“Sure you wanna get up so quickly?” Was Tanya, concerned?

You nodded nonetheless.

“I got her. Edgar, would you get the keys?” Curtis took your hand and helped you up as the crowd made a hole to reveal one specific prisoner bed on the wall of steely prisoner beds--Namgoong Minsoo.

You looked around, the guards had all been subdued, either passed out on the ground, or in the case of the giant, bleeding out. That was easier than I thought it would be, you thought.

“Hi.” Curtis’ voice pulled you from your thought, “You OK?”

You nodded again.

“You’re sure?” He lifted your hair, revealing a bruise that’s slowly turning dark.

You winced as his fingers gently touched the bruise, “I’ll have this to match the one on my back I guess.”

“You joke, but we were really worried back there. Tanya nearly cried. I think Edgar did cry.”

“Curtis, it’s open!” Edgar called from the center of the crowd.

Namgoong was exactly how you would have expected from what you learned about him. As he sat up from the cold slab of a bed, his hair was a messy nest, and he looked as if he was perpetually half-awake--perhaps this is his Kronole addiction doing a number on what you heard was an exceptional brain.

“Are you Nam?!“ Edgar yelled, equally convinced that Namgoong had fried his brain on sniffing Kronole.

“Edgar, get one of the round discs from the wall behind you.” You pointed to the translators.

Namgoong turned his eyes to you for a quick second, perhaps surprised that you knew about them. Edgar chucked a round disc to Namgoong, and one to Curtis. Thus began actual communication.

From what little Korean you knew, Namgoong was not afraid to throw in a few expletives when conversing with Curtis, who was asking him to help open the doors leading to the front of the train. Not a surprise.

Namgoong even pulled out a cigarette and lit up as murmurs rose amongst the crowd. “I thought cigarettes were extinct.” It wasn’t out of the blue to you thought--like in the outside world, many luxuries were kept strictly to the front on the Snowpiercer.

You were, however, taken aback when Namgoong pulled open another prisoner bed close by, revealing his daughter, Yuna. Nobody told you about her. Not even when you were physically here as surveyor.

As you stared at Yuna, trying to wrap your head around how and why a child would end up in prison, the young girl had sat up, rubbing her eyes.

Namgoong looked at her, a flicker of parental warmth in his eyes, and then told Curtis that he wanted two Kronole blocks per gate, as opposed to the one block Curtis proposed. All right, perhaps that wasn’t parental warmth you just saw... Regardless, there wasn’t much wiggle room for Curtis, so a deal was eventually struck.

As Namgoong busied himself with digging up the wiring for the next gate, you decided it was time for the next step. Finding Curtis huddled next to Edgar and Namgoong, you tapped him lightly on the shoulder.

His eyes lit up as he realized it was you. That seemed to be happening every time now.

“Wanna have a chat with Gilliam?” Your hand lingered on his shoulder just a little bit.

“Yeah,” Curtis laid his own hand on yours as he stood up.

Oh, so that’s a thing now. But oddly you liked it. Noting your surprise, Curtis’s hand faltered a bit. You caught it before his hand completely fell away. A smile crept up on both your faces. It’s a thing now.

“What about him?” You nodded towards Edgar, only to realize that he was wholly enraptured by Namgoong’s fiddling with the wires. So you left him be.

Together with Curtis, you found Gilliam, Grey, and Tanya in the back of the crowd. Gilliam raised an eyebrow as he noticed your interwoven hands, but said nothing. As you sat down, it was like you were back behind the tattered blinds, discussing how to start the revolt. Except now, there is no turning back.

“Why is she here?“ Tanya questioned.

“C’mon Tanya...”

“No, she’s right. Me barging into the Tail Section this morning will raise questions eventually. After the initial rush wears off I expect,” You would be lying if you said you didn’t expect any resistance. “I just... I want to say my piece, and then I will leave.”

Tanya and Curtis looked to Gilliam, who gave an almost imperceptible nod. That was all the permission you needed.

“I know the front sections well, and I really want to help. But I understand that my previous...lies...Well let’s just say I would need to prove myself,” you had been contemplating this for a while, so the words rolled off your tongue.

“For now, what I can contribute is this--I think we should leave a small group behind. We’re stretched too thin. It’s better to hold the sections we have, just so we have something to fall back on. And the guards should be tied up, or guarded if needs be. I know it’s a bit contrary to what the revolt is about, but pragmatically it’s really the best thing to do.”

You took a breath, letting your listeners digest what you said.

“Just a thought.” You stood up, gave Curtis a quick smile, “I’ll be with Namgoong and Edgar up front.”

---

Even though Jo left, Curtis could not stop thinking about what she said. And panic started setting in. He didn’t have a plan, and he’s not sure Gilliam had a plan either. What should they do about the guards? What should they do as they travel further up the train? Should they push through? But what if the front sends heavy forces to crush them? Should they leave a strong defense for each section? But would that mean fewer people will make it to the final showdown in the front? There were so many pros and cons that Curtis was losing grip on his vision of the best course of action.

Eventually, Gilliam made a decision.

“I think Jo was right.”

Curtis ran his thumb across his lips, his eyes staring past his extended lashes into the distance, “Hmmm...”

“So, you’ll give the orders then?”

That surprised Curtis. Surely it should be Gilliam giving the orders, right?

“I don’t know, Gilliam. It’ll sound a lot better coming from our leader.”

“Who do you think that is, Curtis?”

“I’m not a leader.” That much he knew about himself.

Eventually Gilliam agreed to give the order, and Curtis went to work. Most of the guards were just incapacitated, but every now and again, someone was badly injured and bleeding.

As Curtis made his way through the guards, Jo caught up with him.

“Hey, I think Namgoong is getting there.”

“He’s rusty, huh?“ Curtis took a look at the clock on the wall--half an hour.

“We should find him some tools in the next section. It’ll help.”

“Are there any tools in the next section?” Curtis turned to the next guard as he finished tying this one to the metal pipes running through the prison section.

The man was lying prostrate, but his lips were moving. “Please, help the kid, the kid...”

“What are you saying?” Jo squatted down next to Curtis, leaning towards the older guard to hear better.

“Careful,” Curtis held onto Jo, worried that the guard lunge at her.

The guard raised a trembling finger towards a young man in guard uniform, lying on his face, “He’s bleeding, help him.”

Jo did not hesitate, and rushed to turn the young man onto his back, examining the bloody gash on his right leg. As he watched Jo take off the guard’s belt and tighten it on his leg to stop the bleeding, Curtis was surprised to find himself feeling empathy for the guards. They’re not exactly leading a luxurious life either.

“Will he live?” the older guard asked Curtis.

For a split second, Curtis didn’t know what to tell him. Then he noticed how much that young guard looked like Edgar--dear god, they must be the same age...

“She’s the best change he’s got.”

Taglist: @torntaltos @emmalbg @ajosieface 

[nix-needs-coffee]

Torrid Affair - Ch. 2

Anne is unsatisfied with the conclusion of her investigation.

For @aimieallenatkinson who requested a part two. :)

Ch. 1

AO3 Link

Aragon’s knees gave out beneath her. She collapsed face first and sideways onto her bed, legs still dangling off the edge. The energy required to draw her curtains, pull the duvet down, or even get herself completely into the bed had long escaped her. Blindly reaching out, she snagged a pillow and clutched it to her chest. This was where she was going to meet her end. She could feel it in the ache in each muscle in her body. She had never felt exhaustion at the level she was feeling now.

Only two days had passed since her common sense had abandoned her and she had joined Anne’s half-formed, ill-judged plan to accost Katherine to ascertain the cause of her strange behavior. If you could even call her behavior strange. The girl had the cheek to be happy and somewhat sidetracked. This was undeniably justification for a full-scale investigation and confrontation. In retrospect, Aragon could not find the point where her logic had flown out of the window and Anne’s plan of attack took shape as a viable option.

The result of their pounce and scroll exonerated Katherine from all suspicion that she had taken up some secret relationship -- at least as far as Aragon was concerned. Absolved of potential wrongdoing, the impertinence of keeping details of a romance from Anne, Aragon had thought that Anne would allow the girl some peace. Although Aragon was grateful that Katherine had found something to occupy her time and that brought her joy, Anne was left unsatisfied with the evidence.

Somehow, that undesirable outcome meant that the inquiry was still open, and even more perplexing, it meant that Aragon was still involved in Anne’s asinine plans.

The two days since then had felt like two years.

Keeping pace with Anne was enough to run her into the ground; however, the task was augmented with the additional burden of reining in her outlandish ideas. Minimizing the potential physical damages Anne was willing to undertake, let alone hindering her as a general nuisance, took every bit of strength and stamina she had.

Aragon regretted dragging Anne back into the kitchen to clean up her mess. If she had only done the dishes for her she would have never become involved. Now that she had, she felt responsible. She couldn’t allow Anne to run about unchecked. It was down to her to be Katherine’s last line of defense.

And now, after another grueling day of chasing Anne about to give Katherine some semblance of privacy, she had a few hours before Anne would wake up to start anew in her endeavors. Sleep overtook her within moments, legs still dangling from the edge of the bed.

***

Morning came much to soon. Aragon had set an alarm for just a few minutes before the time Anne usually rolled out of bed to leave behind a wake of destruction in her path. In spite of her best efforts, when Aragon was finally able to sit up, cramped from her awkward position and still depleted of energy, she could hear Anne’s clomping feet as they roamed the house.

Opening her door just enough to let the light from the hallway shine through, she saw Anne at Katherine’s room on her hands and knees, face pressed against the floor, peaking through the sliver of space between it and the door.

“Oh, for the love of God. It is too early for this,” she murmured to herself, rubbing her eyes and resting her head against the doorjamb to gather her strength. “Why, Anne?” She asked loud enough to be heard this time, still not lifting her head from the cool wooden surface of the frame.

“Shh! She’s talking to someone!” Anne waved a dismissive hand at her without picking her head up from the floor.

“And?” She knew the answer to her question, but she was trapped in the same script she had been reading from since first signing on to Anne’s exploit.

“And what if she’s talking to the person she’s seeing?”

Aragon was rescued from her next line when Katherine’s door whipped open. Anne, frozen to the spot on the hardwood floor, did not even flinch. Katherine took an indifferent step over her prone figure, and carried on down the hallway. “And what if she’s talking to Jane about having you committed,” she threw over her shoulder.

“I have a right to know! We are family! Families tell each other these things!” Anne, still kneeling, shrieked at Katherine’s back.

“Oh? Do families also partake in stalking, intimidation, harassment, and borderline abuse?” Katherine called back as she descended the stairs.

“That’s literally the definition of a family, Katherine! It’s what we’re here for!” Anne’s earnest face looked to Aragon for support.

Her only response was the sound of the front door slamming behind Katherine.

Anne huffed as she sat back, looking up at Aragon for reassurance again. Regardless of finding no encouragement, her face set in determination to rectify her lack of success, and her eyes glimmered with mischief as she calculated her next moves.

“How many times has it come to this?” Weary and on the verge of standing down and letting Anne run rampant, Aragon lowered herself to the girl’s level on the floor, wishing she could sprawl across the surface and sleep for a week.

“You knew I was never good at maths, don’t test me.”

***

Having sufficiently consumed her required intake of caffeinated beverages, Aragon was feeling the slightest bit more human after her rough start of a morning. She at least had the energy to make an effort to convince Anne that she needed to try a different tack, although she should have saved her breath. It fell on deaf ears.

When Katherine arrived back from her respite with a subtle smile fixed on her face, Anne’s interest was renewed ten-fold.

“Where were you just then?” She berated her the second she walked through the door.

“Out.”

“With who?”

“Myself,” Katherine’s terse answers were impassive, giving none of her true feelings away.

“Yourself and…”

“The bloody Queen.”

“Ain’t that Aragon’s kid?” Anne dodged the hand that immediately swung for her face. “Oh my God, chill out. I’m kidding!” She cowered a bit at the vicious, glowering look Aragon gave her. “I love you?” She offered at an attempt at amends.

“I don’t care anymore,” Aragon scoffed and threw her hands up in exasperation. Infuriated, she walked out of the room, relinquishing all responsibility she felt to limit the damage Anne caused. Her ire lessened when she saw that Katherine had taken advantage of the opening and escaped back to her room.

Her reprieve, however, was far too short. Anne followed her into the living room, spouting off about her next strategy.

***

Aragon was dragging her feet, done in and ready for bed, when her arm was seized and she was wrenched into a room.

Anne.

Of course, she thought.

“She left it out!”

“Who left what out?” Aragon didn’t even want to know.

“Katherine! Her phone!”

“What good is that going to do? She has it passcoded.”

Anne raised an eyebrow at her and flashed a devilish grin, “That’s not a problem. I know all of your passcodes.”

Aragon should have anticipated this. It was entirely predictable that Anne would have sussed out and memorized all of their passcodes. She knew it would be senseless to bother to change it, too. It would only be a matter of time before Anne memorized the new one.

She watched with dismay as Anne effortlessly unlocked Katherine’s phone. The blaring sound of her virtual pet game emanating from tiny speakers made both women jump. Anne made a derisive noise before leaving the game and scrolling through the phone uninterrupted.

Aragon watched as her face crumpled from exuberance to utter disappointment.

“I can’t believe there’s actually nothing here. She really is only playing with a stupid fake dog, and apparently just talking to Cleves. Not even an incognito communication app to be found,” she whispered with such sadness that Aragon couldn’t help but reach out to pat her arm in comfort.

“Why don’t you download Tinder for her? Help her out a bit?” She offered, regret instantaneously overwhelming her.

“I knew there was a reason I hadn’t dropped you from this investigation.”

[hellas-himself]

Ch.2 Azrielito’s Favorites

Chapter 1 

After the death of his father, Azriel is forced to go back to the one place he swore he’d never return to. But he finds himself quite literally face to face with his past, one that he had not let himself think of since he’d left. 

Ch. 3

.

.

.

As I set my bag on the counter in my kitchen, I called Rhys on speaker.

“How did it go?” he asked by way of greeting.

“Not too bad.”

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah… I’m okay.”

“You sure you want to come back tomorrow?”

I sighed, looking at my kitchen sink. My perfectly working kitchen sink.

“Would you mind me working from home? At least until the holidays are over?”

“Going to celebrate Christmas? Mom is going to flip when she hears this.”

“No, asshole. Don’t you dare get her hopes up. But I’ll see her on New Year’s.”

Rhys sighed. “At least.”

“How’s Feyre?”

“She almost killed me this morning. I ate the last slice of pizza last night and she woke up looking for it.”

I chuckled. “Is there a sty in your eye?”

“Absolutely not! I ordered her two pies and I stood home today to make up for it.”

“Have you guys told mom yet?”

“Saving it for Christmas.”

“You’ll record it for me, right?”

Silence. I heard him tapping his fingers against something. Probably his desk. I had always spent Noche Buena with my mother and Christmas morning, I’d go back home to Rhysand’s parents. Once she died… I couldn’t handle it, so I stopped celebrating altogether. I knew our mother didn’t deserve it- but it hurt too much.

“Yeah, Az, I’ll record it. We’ll see you New Year’s, then?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, I gotta go. No one told me morning sickness actually happens any time of day.”

I winced. “Take care of her, Rhys.”

“Love you, Az.”

“Love you, too.”

I set my phone on the counter and walked to the door that led me to the garage. I grabbed my tool box and set it in the trunk of my SUV beside the tool box specifically for my car parked beside the truck. I put my backpack in the back seat and after texting Elain, I went into the closet for my overnight bag.

*

Illyria was eerily quiet in the morning. My mother had always loved the watch the sunrise, even in this stupid cold weather. I parked the SUV beside Elain’s car and grabbed my tool box and my laptop case. She was taking an order when I walked in and she almost dropped her notepad. Trying not to smile, I walked to the back, taking the same booth I had sat in just the day before. I set the laptop case and tool box on the floor, pushing them against the wall.

“What are you doing here?” Elain asked, whispering rather loudly.

“Ordering breakfast.”

“Don’t be an ass.”

“I’m on vacation for the holidays, El.”

She stepped back, her eyes widened slightly.

“Your usual then?”

“Surprise me.”

That made her smile enough to show off that dimple in her cheek.

“Okay. I just finished the Mallorca. I’ll come back with some coffee, too.”

I waited till she disappeared behind the counter to get my laptop going. I answered emails while I waited. Feyre had sent an ultrasound picture and I felt a lump in my throat. ‘I miss you, pendejo’ was the subject line. That made me chuckle, at least. Feyre had learned every curse and insult in Spanish within weeks of dating Rhys.

Then there was the confirmation emails of everything I’d ordered last night. So far, everything looked to be in order. Once I saw Elain walking towards me, I closed out of the email, leaving my work screen up.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you, El,” I said as Elain set the mug down. The Mallorca looked… exactly how my mother made it.  

“I thought you were on vacation?”

“Rhys and Cassian would lose their heads if they weren’t attached to their necks. Someone has to make sure things are running smoothly.”

Elain rolled her eyes.

“Well… It’ll get busy soon. I’ll leave the door unlocked so you can go upstairs and work there.”

“Thank you.”

She smiled and walked off. I had to force myself to look at the screen, not the notepad in her back pocket.

Of course, I didn’t work upstairs. At least not for Rhys. I started working on her bathroom sink. I unclogged the tub and put in a new shower head. I put a book under the one bad table leg in the meantime. I’d leave the chairs for last. I didn’t want anyone to hear me using a hammer. Her kitchen sink was a nightmare, but the parts would come in tomorrow. I couldn’t do much about her outlets, not without shutting the power off so I’d wait for the diner to close. I didn’t want to risk shutting the whole building down.

I was putting in a lightbulb in the kitchen when Elain walked in. I almost fell off the chair.

“What are you doing?”

“What my brothers failed to do.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“You didn’t have to.”

She made an aggravated sound and when I stepped down, she had her hands on her hips. I knew that face; defiant, proud.

“I can take care of that myself.”

“Yeah? When?”

“Hey, I don’t get free time to do things,” she said and I felt terrible then. “Besides, no one knows.”

“Cassian spends the night here.”

“Yes, to work. He eats downstairs.”

“Look… I get wanting to do things on your own… But I want to help. If you’re not gonna let me pay for my food, dejame hacer esto.”

She glared at me but then she sighed, her shoulders sagging.

“That’s not fair,” she said with a smile. “You know how much I love it when you do that.”

“I was counting on it.”

She laughed. “Just don’t tell my sisters, okay?��

“No one even knows I’m here.”

“And no more Spanish, you’re not sweet talking yourself out of anything else.”

“Is your car still unlocked?”

She groaned and walked out, making me laugh.

It was almost sundown when I finished with her car. It still needed a lot more work, but I had to wait. When I walked back in to the diner, she was wiping down the tables.

“Where’s Nuala?”

“I let her go home early. Dinner time during the holidays isn’t really busy. It’s usually breakfast and lunch that has me ready to throw in the towel.”

She laughed but it didn’t convince me.

“Do you take days off?”

“Not really… Christmas day and New Year’s yes. But that’s about it.”

“Want some help?” I asked. She smiled, wiping her brow with the back of her hand.

“Honestly, I would love it if you helped.”

I put up chairs while she swept up the floor, Elain smiling whenever she caught me looking at her. That’s how it always had been with her, but only her-

I washed and dried the dishes while she mopped, smiling as I heard her sing along to the music still playing. When we finished, she shut the music off and shut the lights off, leading me upstairs.

“Remember that one time Feyre and I went to Mor’s just so Feyre could stay the weekend with Rhys?”

“Yes,” I said with a chuckle.

“I snuck upstairs to where you were sleeping with Cas and we stood up all night talking.”

“Or that time Amren threw that house party,” I said and she laughed as she stopped at her door.

“We snuck off to get away.”

“With a bottle of whiskey.”

She giggled as she unlocked it.

“So… where are you staying while you’re here?” she asked, kicking off her shoes once we were inside.

“I hadn’t gotten that far,” I said, feeling my face get warm as I locked the door.

“You can stay here.”

“Are you sure?”

She yawned, walking towards the bathroom.

“Yeah. It’s fine.”

“Thanks, El.”

She nodded and closed the door behind her. I heard the sound of clothes being shrugged off and when she turned the water on, she screamed. I wasn’t sure what she said, but I knew that she was happy about the new shower head.

Elain wore fuzzy pink pajama pants and a white tank and grey cardigan when she walked out of the bathroom. She cursed the wood floor until she found her bunny rabbit slippers.

“What do you want for dinner?” she asked as she checked her phone.

“I’m not all that hungry… You did kind of give me three different plates to try for lunch.”

“Are you sure you liked them?”

She came to sit beside me on the sofa.

“If it wouldn’t make me sick, I’d have eaten all three and asked for more.”

“You’re silly,” she said, playfully pushing me as she turned the tv on.

“What made you want to buy the diner?” I asked, relaxing a bit in my seat.

She shrugged. “I’m good at it.”

“Good at owning a diner?”

“Yes. Out of the three of us, I’m the only one who can cook. You used to copy off my math homework so I mean… that has to say something.”

“I did no such thing.”

“Please. You passed algebra because of me.”

I laughed, feeling my heart beat a little faster by the way she looked at me.

“Alright… You win.”

She sighed, bringing her knees up to her chest. Her toe nails were painted glittery pink.

“It was one of the few places that had any good memories to it,” she said softly. She was blushing. “I didn’t want to lose that.”

I couldn’t look away from her. Her blush only deepened.

“So, do you mind sleeping with music?” she asked, changing the subject. “I can’t sleep if it’s too quiet.”

“I don’t mind,” I replied, waking up from my daze.

“You sure you’re not hungry?”

“I’m fine, El… I promise.”

“Hey Az?”

“Hm?”

Elain opened her mouth to speak but then just shrugged.

“Thanks… for the shower. And the sink. I’m sure I’ll find other things to thank you for, knowing you.”

“It’s really nothing.”

*

“What the hell are you doing?”

I looked out the window to find Elain staring at me.

“Your new radio came in.”

“What? Az- What the hell?”

“Your heat and AC works now. Fuel gauge is in working order.”

“How?”

“I went to the shop and grabbed what I needed because the parts weren’t getting here fast enough due to bad weather. But the radio got here this morning.”

“You had it delivered.”

“It’s amazing what expedited shipping does.”

I stepped out of her car and locked it. She made a face which made me laugh.

“What?”

“You smell like car.”

“Damn, I wonder why.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Go shower. I made something special for lunch.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t.”

She still smiled when she walked away.

Showered and dressed in warmer clothes, I went down to sit at the counter where Elain set a plate of pastelillos and other frituras my mother used to make.

“You made this?”

“Yes. I remembered how much you liked them on Fridays after school.”

It took me a moment but… “I had practice, right?”

“Like most days. But Friday was also your mom’s day off. She made them every week without fail. Except that one time you had a stomach virus and-”

“Yep,” I said quickly, not wanting her to retell the details of that weekend. “I remember now.”

She laughed. “Do you want a malta? I’ve got some in the fridge and some in the pantry.”

“Cold would be great, El.”

With a smile, Elain disappeared into the kitchen. When she came back, she used the end of her shirt to twist the cap open. She shook her hand after.

“Hey, so, I have to go food shopping after work. Do you want to come with?”

“Sure,” I said as best I could with a mouth full of food.

“How is it?”

I smirked, taking a sip of my drink.

“If I didn’t know your parents were snotty rich white people, I’d think you were as jibara as I am.”

She laughed. “Your mom showed me how.”

“When?”

Elain looked away, her cheeks turning pink.

“When you moved away.”

“Oh.”

“It was fun. I almost burned the kitchen once.”

“You went to my father’s house?”

She shook her head. “Your mom would come over to my place or we’d meet here.”

“I didn’t know that.”

I felt horrible.

“Yes, well, Azriel,” she said, now looking at me with a sly grin. “You’re not the only one who keeps things to himself.”

“I do not.”

She smirked.

“I’ve seen you maybe a handful of times since you moved away and then… Well, you fell off the face of the earth. If it hadn’t been because Feyre posted that picture of you and Cassian passed out on her sofa last summer, I would’ve thought you completely lost.”

“She did what?”

Elain cackled.

“Enjoy your lunch Mister-I-Don’t-Use-Social-Media.”

Feyre sent me the picture after I texted her about it. When I asked if she’d done this before, I told her not to answer when I saw how long it was taking her to respond.

*

Elain bought so much food it took me two trips to carry it all up to the apartment while she put it away.

“Plan on feeding an army of Illyrian assholes?” I asked when I locked the door; now with a chain, a dead bolt and the lock on the door itself.

“No, stupid. Noche Buena. Christmas morning breakfast. And don’t forget New Year’s and Dia de Reyes.” Her Spanish was… perfect.

“You celebrate Reyes?”

Still. She still celebrated it even after I left. I’d told her about it and for a few years, Elain would leave a shoe box full of random little gifts at my house. That wasn’t how it worked, but it was probably the sweetest thing to look forward to every January.

“Well… I spend it alone so I’ll get Nuala something. Or Lucien and Vassa. But they usually go visit his family. And with her pregnant, Helion is coming here. To town. Not here, as in my apartment.”

“Where am I putting this?” I asked, holding the enormous pig shoulder in its bag.

“Put it in the fridge for now. I have to season it. Which reminds me,” she said as she got up from where she’d been sitting on the floor putting the bags of rice and flour in the bottom cabinet. “I have to make sofrito tonight. Want to help?”

“Of course.”

“Good. You’re the only person who can tell me if I’m making it right.”

Sure enough, Elain handed me a little notebook and it felt like I’d been hit in the gut. Every recipe, every little note, even grocery lists- all in my mother’s hand writing. There were some high lighted and in bold letters listed as ‘AZRIELITO’S FAVORITES’.

“I’m sorry,” Elain whispered, gently prying the book from my hands. When she held my hands in hers, I realized there were tears in my eyes. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay. Just caught me off guard.”

“Still.”

Elain was the only person beside my mother who could touch the scars on my hands and not leave me feeling sick. I didn’t recoil. Rhys made sure my job involved as little human interaction as possible… I could shake hands. I’d gotten into fist fights more than I’d ever want Elain to know. But the way Elain brushed her thumbs over my skin, the way she looked at me- no one else did this. I trusted no one else.

“You can keep it,” she whispered. “I know them all by heart.”

“No, that’s yours. I have what she wanted me to keep.”

“What did she leave you?”

I shrugged. “I never looked.”

Elain sighed, kissing both of my hands. I wanted the earth to swallow me whole. I’d walked away from her and here she was… as if I’d never left.

“Come on. We’ll finish faster if we work together.”

I wasn’t thinking when I pulled her in my arms, but Elain sighed with relief. She wrapped her arms around me and it dawned on me that I hadn’t been this close to anyone in ages.

*

“Want to go see the lights tomorrow night?” she asked as she put the last of the sofrito in the freezer.

“They still do that?”

“Yes. And I need to get a tree.”

“A tree?”

“My old one broke and I haven’t had time to get one. Emerie said she has a few still. I think if we leave right after I close the diner, I can get one.”

“And if you can’t?”

“You’re good with an ax, right?”

“You have to be in my line of work.”

Elain gaped at me which only made me laugh.

“You’re horrible!”

“I’ll remember that when you have no tree.”

She scowled.

“I’ll just take one from Lucien’s house. They have like three living rooms. They can live without one tree for a few days.”

I stopped laughing.

“What?”

“I’ll cut every tree from here to Velaris before I see you bringing anything from Vanserra’s house.”

“Try to stop me.”

“I’ll go to Emerie’s first thing in the morning. I’ll even put the lights out front.”

Elain grinned. “Good. I really liked the red and gold ornaments.”

“Anything else?”

“Nope.” Elain walked off, and I knew that I’d walked right into that one.

.

.

.

So. We (Puerto Ricans) add ‘lito’ or ‘lita’ among others, as endearment. For example, Angel? They now are Angelito so in this case, Azriel is “little Azriel” which is something his mother would have called him. 

Mallorca is a sweet bread we eat at breakfast or whenever tbh its yummy af

Pendejo is like... asshole? and in this instance, its all in affection lol 

Dejame hacer esto means “let me do this” everything sounds better in Spanish imo

To my fellow Hispanic/latinos- do not come for me lol THEY ARE PASTELLILOS IN THIS HOUSE. its like an empanada but smaller. sometimes filled with cheese, or meat, or even guava! they’re divine. Frituras are fried foods. It can mean just one kind or a platter of a bunch of them. 

Malta is a malt beverage that has SOME alcohol in it but not here in the states as far as I know. we drink it all day, at any meal. to my uterus owning friends, a warm malta can sometimes help with period cramps. no joke. 

Jibara/o is what me and my family are called because we’re from the mountains. basically anyone in rural Puerto rico is considered a jibaro. 

Sofrito is a bunch of herbs and veggies blended up and used as a base in almost all our dishes. 

.

.

.

@dreamerforever-5 hope you enjoyed it!

[rumowrites]

Defectum, Ch.3

He stood, making his way back inside to dress properly. A soldier of his status could not be seen wearing nothing but wide, light training trousers. The fabric pooled around his ankles as he changed into his casual uniform, consisting of dark blue uniform pants and a suede vest over a light undershirt bearing his rank in the squadron. Only one stripe on his shoulders missed until he could call himself the high commander of Xadia’s armed forces. However, he hoped it wouldn’t come to that any time soon. He wouldn’t be allowed to take every mission when he had to command all of their defences and Runaan never intended to reach the position he was in now. He’d been perfectly fine following orders instead of giving them. The weight on his shoulders had only increased with every promotion. The Assassin carefully braided his long silken hair back, fastening the braid and loose strands with decorated silver clasps. Checking his appearance one last time in the mirror, he made a few adjustments. Relaxing the collar a little until his collarbones and the top part of his chest mark were showing. He didn’t want to look like he was trying to underline his status, aiming for a more casual look. At last, he took the dark green uniform coat from it’s hook, finally making his way towards town.

His house was rather remote by his own choosing. He loved the quiet of the woods surrounding him and didn’t mind the short trek to civilization.

There were only few possible places he could search for Tinker. Only three workshops he knew bore the sigil of a master and one of them could be ruled out as it belonged to the old smith who supplied his soldiers with weaponry. He passed the remaining two on his way to the market where he arrangements for further food delivery in the next weeks. Seeing he had no missions scheduled in that time and would most likely stay around. On his way back, he instinctively went to the smaller of the shops. Something about the other elf matched the slight chaotic but yet beautiful display in the window.

Upon entering, he almost stepped on a stack of horse shoes that was carefully arranged at the foot of a worktable. Further back in the crammed shop, he could make out a familiar silhouette hunched over a pendant. The short haired elf was so engrossed in his work that he only noticed Runaan when he stood directly in front of his workstation.

Tinker looked up from the magnifying glass he had placed above the delicate silver pendant as he braided hair thin wires around several moonstones. He set the piece aside looking at Runaan intently. “What can I help you with?” his voice was as warm and level as he remembered it from the previous night, leaving him short of words for a moment. “I wanted to thank you for last night.” Runaan felt the golden eyes assess him and suddenly turned self-conscious of his appearances. He hoped the effects of last night weren’t visible anymore and reflexively reached for the two long knives that were currently absent from his belt. The other elf simply inclined his head with a small smile. “Your welcome. I hope nothing hurts anymore?”

“No” Runaan quickly assured, running a hand down his ribcage where the pain had been. “No, I’m alright, thank you. How can I repay you?” The smith looked a little started at his question, taking longer than before to answer. “There is really no need for that.” Meanwhile, the Assassin had finally regained his calm no longer twitching under the other’s gaze. “Please, I insist.” Tinker shook his head, a smirk appearing on his lips. “You caused no inconvenience for me if that is what concerns you. I was glad to help.” He assured again, slowly standing up. The short hared elf was a little shorter than him but Runaan could see defined muscles moving under his simple dark brown linen shirt.

“At least let me buy you lunch. To make up for the time?” the words were out before he had time to think twice about it. It was only past midday and just a little late for for lunh time. Less curious eyes, his mind immediately supplied. Not even in momens like these, the soldiers instinct left him alone.

To his surprise, Tinker nodded, shedding the thin gloves he wore. “Okay, I should have taken a break hours ago either way.” The smith dragged a hand through his hair, pushing strands out of his face in the process. “Where would you like to go?” Runaan managed even though he was strongly captivated by the simple motion. Tinker huffed a laugh “I don’t know. I hardly have time to eat out for lunch. Mostly, I just stay in the workshop.”

The Assassin couldn’t help but grimace “Great, so we are on the same page about that.” The comment got him another laugh from the other elf and an unfamiliar warm feeling began to spread in his stomach area.

Tinker gestured to the door, grabbing the leather vest he’d worn the day before o his way out. “Well then let’s just go and see if we find something.” He couldn’t help but smile at the bubbly nature of his rescuer that was so different from the seriousness of his soldiers. The elf seemed genuinely happy at the prospect of getting lunch with him. Nobody did that usually. They all respected him too much for that.

Once outside, he offered his hand after the smith turned the sign on the door to ‘closed’. “You told me your name yesterday but I didn’t introduce myself to you. My name is Runaan.” Tinker shook his hand with an amused smile. “I know who you are. Everyone does.” But he took the hand nonetheless. “Nice to properly meet you Runaan.” “Likewise”

They ended up going to the first little shop that still served something to eat since neither exactly knew his way around. The two tucked themselves in a little corner booth by the window where both of them were able to observe the passing elves. Runaan asked what the inkeep recommended and both took her choice without even looking at the slate where the menu was pictured. They fell into easy banter, exchanging stories until she arrived with their food. The silence while they ate was comfortable and Runaan found himself absently watching the passer-by’s. Once he was done, Tinker followed his gaze, also tracking the elves outside the window. “What do you see?” he asked suddenly, raising his eyes back to the Assassin. “Oh, it’s just a habit.” He allowed, returning the look. “I like to know who’s around me, just in case.” Tinker nodded with a small smile. “I bet you assessed every single one in here before we even sat down.” He suddenly felt his cheeks heating up, How was this stranger able to read him so well? “No, it’s not like that…” he began, searching for the right words. “I’m not paranoid. It’s just a reflex.” Even though he realised what he just said pretty much qualified as paranoid. “I didn’t mean to offend you.” The smith assured quickly while his smile turned challenging. “Honestly I find it fascinating. What about the elf sitting over there by the door?”

Runaan looked at him with a puzzled expression. “What about him?”

“What can you tell me about him?”

“Married but got divorced before, married again, works as a carpenter, probably something between two and four children.” Tinker grinned “Impressive. And you are right, he’s a carpenter and lives with his second wife. They have two kids and he had one with his ex. How did you tell?” Runaan couldn’t within raising an Eyebrow. “So you tested me? Well, the clothes he wears are made for hard work but there are no signs of ash, only remains of saw dust, so wood. Also his engagement ring is smaller than the tan line of his old one; new wife. And the kids were just math.” The smith laughed. “You really are as good as they say. So what about that one over there?” He discreetely pointed at another elf sitting by the bar nursing a drink. He knew he was showing off but Runaan didn’t even hesitate before answering. After all he had catalogued every single one of them upon entering. “Ex Border Patrol, is now working for the healers, right handed, favours the sword and probably got wounded in service. Married, no children.” There was it again, the little challenging smirk on the smith’s face. “How do you tell he favours the blade?” “Where he an archer, one of shoulders should be more developed than the other. And he holds his cane like a blade and not like a spear-man would.” Tinker laughed again, beaming at him. “It’s fascinating how you are able to assess people like I do with steel.” This cued a long throughout monologue about the elements elements he worked with and Runaan was content with listening to him, drinking in the sight of the other wildly gesticulating and smiling at him all the while.

After a while, Tinker looked around the now almost empty shop. “Oh, I am sorry I’ve been rambling. You probably have other things to do.” The Assassin was then pulled from his thoughtful state, looking slightly startled. Well as much as his stern expression allowed it at least. “No, no it’s fine I have no plans this afternoon. But surely you must get back to your workshop?” the smith shrugged “Yeah you are right, I should probably get back to work. Thank you for the invitation. Getting to know you was really nice…” he then sheepishly scratched the back of his head “…I hope I didn’t bore you with my rambling. I tend to get lost in it.”

That extracted a laugh out of the Assassin. “Don’t worry. It’s refreshing to talk about something that is not related to shift schedules for once. Let me walk you back to your shop.” Together, they crossed the few intersections until the duo reached Tinker’s workshop. “Well…” Runaan started “A productive afternoon, I guess. And thank you, again.”

“Thanks, I would heal you more often if you let me ramble about rare metals afterwards.” He smile on his face was genuine, lighting up the golden eyes until they sparkled. The Assassin felt something inside him jump at the sight. “A-Anytime. When you, um, when you talked about combining the metal with charged moonstones, I thought about a new design I’ve been toying with. It was very inspirational, really.” Not all soldiers designed their own weapons but for Runaan his dual knives were the most important possession he could have. An extension of his skill, completing the movements with purpose. The same counted for his bow and other weaponry. He wanted, needed them to be perfect. So although he lacked the skill of it, the Assassin always made very specific instructions before he commissioned a new blade. Improving the measurements until they were perfect. “Really?” Tinker beamed. “Well, if you like, you could show me your plans sometime and maybe I can help you with it. I’ve experimented a bit in the last few months and a lot is applicable on weaponry.” Runaan smiled “That would be great. I will come around as soon as my schedule allows.”

[marvelousmarvelimagines]

Need You Now

Part II - Bad at Love (Peter Parker Series) (Part 1) 

Pairing - Peter Parker x Reader

Summary - Being Tony Stark’s daughter isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. For one, I didn’t want to be in the first place. My normal life was just fine, thank you. Two, there are freaking superheroes all over where I now live. There’s never any privacy. Three, everyone expects me to be this amazing genius and go to this fancy school and do incredible things. I just want to watch Star Wars and write Harry Potter fanfiction. Also, I hate Math.

A/N - This chapter really gets more into the reader’s relationships with the Avengers as well as her Dad. I hope you enjoy! 

Warnings - Some Language

The day continued to suck, but surprisingly, not as much. Peter actually ended up showing me to my next few classes, and he sufficiently distracted me from the stares and whispers with a possibly to anyone else, excessive amount of Star Wars debates. 

It wasn’t the same though. At the end of the day I made my way out of the school as fast as I could, hoping that Happy would be there waiting for me. I sighed when I realized he wasn’t, but a huge smile lit up my face when I saw who was. 

“Clint!” I ran to him, throwing my arms around his neck with such force he almost fell backwards. 

“Woah! A little warning next time, kid.” Clint replied, but he laughed, picking me up with his own hug.

“What are you doing here? I thought Happy was picking me up?” I asked when my feet were finally on the ground. 

“Talked your Dad into letting me take the job. Thor wanted to, but I figured flying away with the God of Thunder might be a little more conspicuous than what you were aiming for on your first day.” 

I looked around, noticing the stares and whispers once again as students passed by us, heading to cars and buses. “I think inconspicuous is out the window.” 

Clint noticed where I was gazing before looking back at me. “Rough first day?”

I didn’t answer, just went over and opened his passenger door and climbed in. “Do we have time to hit the field?” 

“You want to practice? I thought you’d be too tired.” 

“Don’t want to go back to the compound yet.” I answered simply. 

Clint nodded, obviously able to tell I didn’t want to talk about it. Unlike some people, he could take a hint. 

From the moment we met, I had gotten along with Clint. I’m sure it had something to do with the three kids of his own, but I didn’t feel like an idiot when I talked to him. I had also always thought that archery looked interesting, but like all physical things, I was terrible at it. So Clint took it upon himself to teach me. I still wasn’t great, but I was loads better. It also got me out of the complex. Well . . . kind of. The field where we practiced was technically still on the Avengers compound, but it was far enough away that really only Clint used it, until I got here. 

“I can tell you’re too tense. Your shoulders are tight, and your elbow is too high.” Clint told me from where he was observing me. 

I took a deep breath in, trying to listen to Clint, but when I let go of the arrow I still missed my target. 

“Okay, no more. You obviously can’t put aside your emotions right now.” Clint took the bow from my hand. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me what’s going on?” He asked me. 

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, we were interrupted by FRIDAY’s voice echoing through the trees. 

“Ms. Potts would like to announce that everyone has arrived and dinner is ready.”

“Sorry Hawkeye. Looks like we’re being summoned.” I said with a sigh. “Unless you want to sneak out and go to that super awesome bakery?” 

He chuckled, patting my shoulder. “Come on, it’s not that bad. Pretty sure I heard Pepper say something about potato wedges.” 

I perked up. “Potato wedges?” 

“You’ll have to come in and see.” He told me with a slight smirk, opening the passenger door for me so we could drive straight to the front of the compound. 

The thought of potato wedges kept me from worrying too much about what was about to happen and as soon as I stepped out of the car, there was another distraction as I was pulled into a bone crushing hug with a loud guffaw of laughter. “My favorite Midgardian has finally arrived!” 

It was absolutely impossible to be sad around Thor. He was so positive and funny, even when he wasn’t trying to be, I couldn’t help but smile around him. Even when he was crushing me. “Thor! Pepper told me you were coming. I’m so glad you’re here.” I managed to say, hugging him back. 

“Of course! I understand that the first day of school is important on Midgard.” He replied as he sat me down. “I want to hear all about it. As does everyone else. We have all gathered around the table to listen to the tale.” 

I felt my chest start to tighten with the thought of discussing today. “We really don’t have to -”

“Nonsense! We are all eager to hear how you amazed your classmates with your vast knowledge.” Thor insisted as he led Clint and me to the elevator. 

When we arrived at the right floor, we found Tony, Pepper and Cap all waiting for us. “’Bout time. I’m starving.” Tony said, clapping his hands together. 

“I get to see Cap twice in one day.” I joked, ignoring Tony as Steve pulled me into a quick hug. “My friends would be so jealous.” I teased. 

“Twice?” He replied, raising his eyebrows.

“Physical education is super important, and you should all listen to me because I’m a super soldier.” I said, putting my hands on my hips with my best Captain America impression. 

Thor and Clint both chuckled as we all sat down at the table. Steve, on the other hand, just shook his head. “Don’t tell me they’re still playing those.”

“In detention as well. At least that’s what Peter told me.” I reached across the table to grab some wedges. 

“Peter?” 

It wasn’t until I looked up from my plate that I realized everyone was staring at me. “Yeah . . . Parker I think. AKA one of the only kids that didn’t look at me like I was about to hop into a suit and blast right out the window.” 

“I’m sure not everyone -” Clint started. 

“Wanna bet?” I asked, picking up my glass and taking a sip. 

“Peter Parker, huh?” Tony said, ignoring what else I said. 

“Yeah . . . do you know him or something?”

“He has the Stark internship.” Pepper supplied quickly. 

I raised my eyebrows. “There’s a Stark Internship? What does he do? Run around and get you coffee and show up for things you’re supposed to be at?” 

“Not really, but you know that’s a great idea, FRIDAY -” Tony started, holding a finger in the air. 

“Ignore him!” I called out. “Let’s not have the only person who wasn’t terrified to talk to me find out I made him an errand boy.” I said, my eyes narrowing at Tony. 

“I’m sure more kids are going to talk to you once they realize how not weird you are and want to cheat off your tests.” Tony replied, causing that panic to rise in my chest again. 

“Speaking of . . . Did you bother to look at my file before signing me up for classes?” I asked him. 

“No . . . Why would I do that?” He asked, popping some of the chicken into his mouth. 

“I don’t know . . . Cause maybe then you would have seen that I almost flunked Geometry if not for a persuasive essay that convinced my teacher to lift my grade up, and I should probably not be in AP Statistics or any of the other ridiculously hard science classes you put me in?” I replied, crossing my arms over my chest. 

As usual, my words didn’t phase him whatsoever. “You’ll figure it out. The teachers at Midtown are trained to help geniuses -”

“Which, if you had read my files, you would know I definitely am not.” I interrupted. 

“If you had gone to a school that actually knew how to teach you -”

“Well, my mom preferred to let me go to the school I wanted, and you know, could actually handle the curriculum in.” 

“Which is exactly the problem! You were never challenged! If you had -”

“My mom thought experiences were more important than studies.” I told him, my heart aching just at the memory of her and how supportive she had been of whatever I wanted to do. 

“Yeah, that sounds like your mom.” Tony replied, rubbing his head as if he had a migraine. 

“Yeah, that sounds like you to from all the magazines.” I murmured under my breath. 

“What was that?” 

“Thor, didn’t you say there have been new developments on . . . something?” Pepper tried to change the subject. 

“No . . . I’m unaware of what you’re referring to.” Thor replied, completely clueless and looking confused. 

“Listen, I’m telling you, I’m not smart enough to be at this school!” 

“Of course you are, Y/N -” Steve tried to reassure me. 

“Then you’ll learn! You’re a Stark -”

“Oh, wow, you witnessed it here, folks! Tony Stark acknowledging his paternity! Haven’t done that since the test came back, have you?” I snapped. 

I didn’t realize the saying, ‘you could cut the tension with a knife’ was completely true until that moment. 

“Y/N -” Clint started in a warning tone. 

“It’s not my fault your mother didn’t give me a chance.” I could tell that he was starting to lose control, but I couldn’t make myself back down. 

“Sorry, she must have thought you were too busy with all those other women to care about a kid.” 

Tony’s hand slammed on the table before pointing to me. “That’s not fair.” 

Tears bit at my eyes as I stood up. “Neither is losing your mom at seventeen to cancer, being forced away to a school you don’t want to go to and having to move your whole life because a father you never met says so but hey, that’s life right?” Without another word, I stormed out of the room, rubbing away the tears that had escaped furiously. 

My room was the only place I knew I could be alone so that’s where I went, grabbing my phone and headphones so I could distract myself with some music. It was the only thing that ever helped me when I was upset for as long as I could remember. Focusing on the music and lyrics instead of myself helped and within minutes of cuddling up to my pillows and Chewie doll all the tears had faded. 

My breathing had just returned to normal when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I rolled over to find Tony there, looking apologetic. He tugged one of my earbuds out and smiled a little when he recognized the Black Sabbath tune. “Good song,” he said. 

I just looked down and fiddled with Chewie’s arm. 

“Listen Y/N,” I looked at him then sensing he was having trouble with his words. “I don’t know how to do this Dad thing, obviously. Didn’t have the best example.” He ran a hand through his hair. “But I’m trying here. Trying to give you what I think is best. Believe me, I know your situation sucks, but can you just try with this school? And me?” 

I still didn’t respond. 

“Hey, if you can’t, you’ll be eighteen soon enough, right? Then you’ll never have to see me again.” Tony said with a little grin. 

I wondered if there was a word to voice how shitty it felt to lose one parent and know you were nothing more than an inconvenience to put up with for a few more months to the other.  

[rueitae]

Hey happy early birthday! I'm a recent follower to your blog but I love your plance works a lot. So I decided to send in a prompt because I love this idea but I'm not very good a writing so here it is. Prompt: November 3rd plance woth ice skates. It doesn't have to be a crossover I just wanted to use my birthday for this

Crossover with Meet Cute and Plance with ice skates!

Thank you for the birthday wishes! I did research to sneak in a reference to actually fulfill the crossover requirements. I also tried to do a bit of research on figure skating in general, so I hope I’m not too off.

~~~~~

Pidge tugged on the spandex near her chest, examining the emerald green sequence in the full body mirror. Her mouth moved from side to side and her nose scrunched up as she scrutinized every detail of her new outfit.

She turned to view herself from the side. The bodice itself was amazingly comfortable, something she rarely felt with even her jeans and sweatshirt these days. It didn’t have near as much sparkle as professional skaters, but Pidge was still pleased to have beading in the shape of leaves. A short asymmetrical skirt of darker green was sewed tightly around the waist. Pidge turned so that the shorter end of the skirt faced the mirror. She took a moment to adjust her ponytail, also angled on the same side.

She adjusted her sleeves last. Beads flowed down her arms like vines and per the design intent. Solid forest green cloth made a sort of cufflinks for her wrists, a single golden bead a little larger than the rest sat facing outwards.

Pidge turned to face the mirror fully. She braced her hands on her hips and nodded. The outfit had her approval.

She unlocked the door behind her and exited the dressing room.

Lance lifted his head as she approached. He uncrossed his legs and sat up from the chair in the waiting area. He smiled brightly as he took her in. “You look beautiful, if I do say so myself,” he preened.

“It is pretty cute,” Pidge admitted. A side grin of her own in place. She twirled around once, enjoying the feeling of the skirt. “It’s comfortable and not too flashy. Although you really didn’t have to add so many beads.”

“I wanted to,” Lance insisted. He stood and strode over to her, looking over the outfit itself with an expert eye. “Something doesn’t look right, one sec.” He unhooked his leather bracelet and stretched it out. He knelt down on one kneed and used the measuring tool to double check his work. He frowned. “The skirt is a little too long for what you wanted. I can trim it if you want,” he told Pidge as he looked up at her.

Pidge gulped. She probably shouldn’t have blushed, but seeing him down on one knee as he was gave her an out of body experience. They’d not been dating that long, but they’d been friends in grade school. She could see it in his eyes, that sparkle every time he’d see her enter a room, like he had been waiting his whole life for this moment. They’d talked about marriage intermittently, but she knew this wasn’t it.

Lance was a romantic. It was Pidge’s only certainty that when he did get around to a proposal, it would be one for Hollywood. Today was not that day. Whatever their future held it was going to be after Pidge finished her masters.

Which brought them to where they were now. She was two weeks out. Her paper was finished, but she needed practice for the demonstration that would go with her defense. It wasn’t anything groundbreaking or new, but it would prove she comprehensively knew what she was talking about.

“How much longer is it?” Pidge asked.

“A half inch,” Lance told her as he stood up. “Sorry, I know you were really specific with the measurements.”

“That little won’t make a difference, the extra weight is well within the margin of error. Or, at least it shouldn’t,” she corrected. “Let me get out on the ice and test it.”

“Let me get mine too,” Lance said. “I’ll join you. We haven’t skated together in like, forever.”

Pidge raised an eyebrow and gave him an exasperated grin. “We were at the park last week.”

“Still feels like forever,” he said. He took the opportunity to steal a quick kiss on her cheek.

“You’re such a flirt,” she chastised, not at all mean spirited.

“Only for you, Pidge. Only for you.”

~~~~~

It didn’t matter how many times she stepped onto the ice. Each time she first picked up speed and soared across the rink was freeing. Pidge allowed herself to glide, testing for any bumps in the surface. Not finding any, she landed herself a single toe loop to further warm herself up.

Weaving back and forth, she skated back towards the entry and propped herself up against the boards. Lance had just finished lacing up and hopped onto the ice with her.

“It took you long enough,” Pidge teased, until she looked down and her eyes widened. “Why are you wearing hockey skates?”

Lance skated around her and leaned over the boards. He made a point to look completely displeased. “Left them at home I guess. I now owe Keith a favor so I could use his skates.”

Pidge laughed despite it all. “Is that really all that terrible to owe Keith a favor?”

“Yes,” Lance said dryly. “Junior Worlds is coming up soon. He’s probably going to make me take care of his crazy cat again.” He rested his chin in the palm of his hand, having every intent to sulk this through.

Pidge couldn’t help but laugh. “Red likes you just fine. I think you two just have different expectations of each other.” She leaned in, wrapping him in a hug. “You’re out here now, might as well enjoy it.”

She felt Lance relax completely at her contact. His scowl turned quickly into a soft smile. “I wouldn’t miss a chance to skate with you while you’re all dressed up and gorgeous like this.”

Pidge blushed and found herself letting a chuckle loose. “You are the cheesiest person I know.” She took his hands with hers and led him out onto the ice. “Outfit felt pretty good in the warm up, but I want to make sure it works for the whole routine. Spot me?”

“Of course. Go for it,” he said, letting their hands separate and letting her take center stage.

Pidge began to build up speed, not concerned that Lance was still on the ice with her. He knew her routine nearly as well as she did and he’d skate out of the way if need be.

The idea was simple in thought. Nothing she was doing hadn’t been done before. She was going over the physics of figure skating; the conservation of momentum for spinning and moment of inertia for jumps. This was all based on her body though. All the science was her weight, her height, her speed, her routine. It would just go to prove that she could do the math and have the credentials to coach others.

Ultimately what she wanted was to be able to do was design the equipment. There was always a way to make things better, and that was exactly what she was going to do.

She and Lance made a good team that way. She would streamline and he would make it beautiful.

Pidge turned to skate backwards, looking behind her to see where she was going. She was by no means a professional, but she was still good at this. Gliding at her preferred angle, she lifted herself into a double salchow, landing with ease.

She didn’t bother with the artistry as she skated down the long side of the rink. It had never been her thing, only having focused on it when she was much younger and much newer to the sport.

Clapping interrupted her. She was used to a few dozen hands, but Lance’s were the only ones today so it was a bit jarring.

“Smile!” Lance shouted at her. “Put a little flair to it! Show ‘em what you can do!”

Well, Pidge thought, he did make the costume.

She began to move her arms more liberally. An extra gesture here, and a motion there. Brining her hands in and out from her chest at various intervals had always seemed to work when she was younger.

“Happy?” she asked with a smirk as she passed him on her way to the next jump.

“Perfect!” he replied. The double toe loop landed just right.

One more jump, a double axel. Well, two really, she’d follow it up with a single. The routine was as easy as breathing by this point. Nothing strenuous except knowing she’d be grilled after doing this for a panel of her professors.

She took her time skating around the rink, not really wanting the speed to end.

Pidge nearly fell when she felt Lance skate up to her from behind. “Mind if I join?” he asked. Even concentrating on her movements, Pidge could tell he was in a mischievous mood.

“What are you up to?” she questioned suspiciously.

“I got too caught up in watching you I couldn’t wait to participate. If I launch you, do you think you could still do the double?”

It had been high school the last time the two of them had done a jump in pairs. Pidge made sure her face showed all the concern she felt about it. “That was a long time ago. Maybe? I couldn’t guarantee a double, but a single I could probably still do.”

Lance lit up. “Good! That’s all! Let me know when you’re ready.”

Pidge rolled her eyes. She was happy to indulge him though. His hands felt right around her waist and even though it had been a long time, she trusted him completely not to let her fall.

“One loop around the rink. I’ll give the nod,” Pidge said.

He kissed her temple. “Thanks, Pidge,” he said softly.

“Thank me after I don’t fall,” she quipped.

They traveled together as close as they could, falling easily and comfortably into the old habit. Pidge savored the time. Cuddling on the couch was one thing, but trusting one another this close with blades on their feet was a different story.

And she did trust him. With everything.

Reaching their full loop, Pidge turned to face Lance, letting him steer them around the corners. “Ready when you are,” she told him.

“Okay, here we go then,” Lance said. “One, two, three!” On the count he lifted Pidge into the air and she twisted her body to give the the two full rotations. Lance helped, twisting her body with his hands.

Pidge got her rotations. She’d grown stronger since high school though, and had perfected her technique even more. Lance had gotten stronger too. Combined with the angular momentum, she had really enough time for a triple, something she was entirely unprepared for. With a yelp, she landed square on her bum.

Lance came to her side right away, his face bordering on panic. “Pidge are you alright? I’m so sorry.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” she insisted. She took his offered hand to get up. “Just a sore butt,” she said as she rubbed it, wincing only slightly. “It’ll pass in a minute.”

Lance sighed in visible relief. “Good, I was worried a blade might have gotten your arm with the fall.”

Pidge smiled to disarm his worries. “No, I’m definitely fine. This actually helps add to my report. My body has changed since high school. I can’t do jumps the same way I did back then.”

“Good! Because you’ll need to be healthy to enjoy this.”

He shoved two small pieces of paper in Pidge’s face. She took them and she gaped at what was printed on them. “Is…is this what it really says it is?”

Lance nodded, smile getting bigger with pride. “If you’re reading them as tickets to this years Grand Prix, then yes, it is.”

Pidge held the tickets to the biggest professional figure skating competition close to her chest. “Lance…this is amazing! You didn’t have to!”

“I wanted to,” he insisted. “You’ve been working really hard and once you finish school you’re going to need a break. So we’re going to the Grand Prix for starters.”

Pidge engulfed him in the biggest hug she could muster. “Thanks Lance, this is the best. I can’t wait until we can go.” She let go after a moment and slid away, crossing her arms. “But first I need to present to the panel, so I have to practice - without interruption,” she said pointedly.

“Even if the interruptions are for very important matters?” Lance said, pushing himself forward and gracefully twirling around so that he could hug her from behind, kissing the top of her head.

“You’ve already given me your surprise, what else could you possibly have in store?”

Lance continued to hold in her in a one handed hug, while his other hand soon produced a small black box. “I know you’re not much for traditions, but I wanted to make sure I beat you to the punch.”

Pidge knew what was in the box, but she opened in anyway. “You sneak!” she angrily. “You can’t butter me up with those tickets and then give me this!”

Lance kissed her cheek. “Is that a yes?” he asked, laughter prevalent in his voice.

“Of course it’s a yes,” she confirmed, a bit more exasperated. Pidge knew she should be more emotional for this moment, but Lance always had a way of subverting expectations. “You know I can’t wear the stupid thing yet, it’ll throw me off.”

He sighed dramatically. “Then I guess I’ll have to wear it until you’re ready for it. On my pinky finger if I have to.”

Perhaps it had been the long day, the exercise, or just the significance of the moment, because so many major things were happening in her life right now, but Pidge burst out laughing. She leaned up against Lance, who in turn starting to giggle and laugh himself. The both of them couldn’t stop, falling down to the ice in each other’s embrace.

The answer must be all of the above.

[writing-radionoises]

The Imposter (Ch. 1)

Summary:  Himiko Toga has known Tomura Shigaraki most of her life. She has watched him rise from the bottom to the top, she has watched him throw fits, she has watched him form ridiculous plans. She has watched him most of their lives, and sometimes, it seems like they are two halves of the same story. No matter how close they are, Shigaraki gets the headline. Shigaraki is on top. Shigaraki this, Shigaraki that. Toga is only a supporting role, the backstage crew. However, there comes a day when she becomes fed up with this. Or: A really weird AU inspired by Brutus by The Buttress.

It started with a thought. Just a simple thought. It was a ridiculous idea, but still, it did not leave Himiko Toga's brain. "Why is someone so childish, so stupid, the leader? Why does Shigaraki get the spotlight?" It made her angry. Sure, he had a powerful quirk, but so did she! And she had so much more than him. If Toga wanted, she could get anyone she wanted by her side. She could be anyone she wanted. Toga was more useful, and while she was also childish, at least she didn't throw fucking tantrums! She wasn't obsessed with killing the unkillable. She only wanted chaos like every other villain. Toga did not need to be groomed most of her life to want this. Toga has known Shigaraki since she was at least seven. That's the earliest she remembers his stupid face, at least. She remembers being taken in by their master, unwillingly at first, watching him get the attention and being treated so well. Even then, Toga was in the background. Toga has always been Shigaraki's backstage manager, she has never been given the spotlight. Even when she was solo. Shigaraki this and Shigaraki that, it was fucking annoying. Nonetheless, Shigaraki was like her brother. She had to treat him well, and she still enjoyed being around him. She was his cutesy little high school sister, meant to annoy him and get him in trouble. So, she annoyed him enough to join his league of villains, though it only seemed to make her more distant to Shigaraki. He became less of her older brother and more of... An enemy. A fool. A child. And, instead, Toga seemed to find a new family. Dabi was kind to her, though only in private, and seemed to keep the older brother persona much better than Shigaraki ever could. He never spoke about his family, yet she had a feeling that, somewhere, Dabi had some little siblings. Dabi conspired against Shigaraki with her. Not only was he an older brother, he was a valuable ally, and much more down to earth than Toga could ever be. He was realistic with his planning, he seemed to know what he was doing. He is the reason everything went as smoothly as it did. He is the reason Toga was successful in stealing the spotlight. The concept was simple. Kidnap Shigaraki, steal his blood, return to the hideout as Shigaraki, and give his position to Toga. Dabi would then throw him to the wolves, throw him as far away as possible from the hideout, and take over. It was not that simple. Shigaraki could not be as easily convinced to follow his little sister everywhere like Dabi could be. However, eventually, it worked out in Toga's favor. It took weeks and weeks of pestering. From sitting at the bar and talking on and on about some "boy" she wanted, to following Shigaraki all over the hideout and just talking. It annoyed him so much, to the point in which he yelled and finally said he'd help. He was caught in her little trap, and Toga found herself smirking. And so, Toga activated her quirk and led Shigaraki out to the location Dabi had picked out. It was dark and rainy, Toga had a hoodie over and pulled up and over her disguise. The long brown hair of a high school student, whose identity Toga had stolen earlier this week, cascaded over her small body as she dragged along a hooded Shigaraki, who was mumbling and scratching at his neck. "Stupid fucking high school girls, how much further until we reach your stupid crush's ho-" "Hush up, Shimira!" Toga retaliated in a hushed tone, to which Shigaraki instantly clammed up once he heard his birth name. Another smirk came across her freckled face, feeling his hand tighten around her own in some sort of anger. At least he wasn't throwing a fit. The sound of Toga's blue rain boots squished and squashed, only a few seconds faster than the lighter steps of Shigaraki. He could be quick when he wanted to, but he was holding back Toga. He did not want to be here. They finally came upon a house, the living room lights were on, the upstairs lights were off. Toga knew well that Dabi would be waiting upstairs. They had a plan, Shigaraki did not know what was coming. She hoped that when the time came, he would beg for his life. She hoped she could hear him cry out, offer everything he had just to not be killed. The thought made her shiver, whether it was with delight or guilt was unknown to Toga. Shigaraki let go of Toga's hand and glanced up the house, she could see the scars all across his face. She had counted them when they were younger, she'd sit in his lap and trace her hands across all his scars, counting them up. That was how she learned to count to fifty as a seven year old with only a little basic education. His eyes caught hers as he pointed to the window. "Get me up there, do what you have to. Throw me or something, I don't fucking care, let's get this over with." She gave him a toothy grin, taking his hand and leading him into the backyard, and pointed at the tall black garden trellis. Shigaraki frowned and scoffed, and without a word, climbed up onto Toga's shoulder's and skittered up the garden trellis towards the window. He fiddled with the window lock before Toga climbed up after him, she simply took out her knife and pried it open, Shigaraki pushed the window screen in as he glanced around the dark room. Toga tried her best to look interested, too, though she knew what was waiting. Shigaraki climbed in, Toga following as she put the window screen back in, closing the window soundlessly and locking it. Shigaraki gave her a strange look, though Toga paid no attention. Shigaraki wondered closer to the bed, looking for their fictional victim before he was apprehended by Dabi. Dabi had pushed him onto the bed, face down, and began to tie up his hands with a chain. Shigaraki struggled, but he was rather scrawny compared to Dabi. Dabi had experience. The whole situation brought a smile to Toga's face as Shigaraki called out to her through grunts. A giggle escaped her throat as the disguise melted away. Her bangs returned, invading her vision, she could feel the clothes of her disguise melt away, her school uniform returning as Dabi tossed Shigaraki against the wall, keeping a moderate distance from him as Toga spoke up. "Tomura Shigaraki... Or, or! My bad, I mean Tenko Shimura," she started, followed by another one of her giggles, "My whole life you have an older brother, a friend to me. You taught me how to count, how to get away with murder, how to do math..." She trailed off, bouncing on her heels as she glanced up towards the ceiling, then locking gazes with a shaking Shigaraki, "That's it! That's all you've done besides torment me with your childish behavior, the way you cast me aside like some animal. I'm important, too! But you got all of master's attention. From birth, we've been like siblings of different mothers, yet you still got all of the attention. The headlines, the reports, the credit... You don't even do anything, do you? You let us take of it so you don't have to get your own hands dirty. So, one day, when I was fifteen years old, I thought to myself. Maybe, just maybe, my name could also be known- That I helped bring good to the villains of this earth and restored greatness to the league..." "What do you want?!" Shigaraki barked, and Toga once again found herself chuckling once again. "What... What do I want? What do I want?! I want everything. Not just some stupid role in your dumb All Might game. No, no, I don't want what you have," she hummed, stepping closer. Her voice was quiet and warm, accompanied by a cat-like grin that only made the phrase even more sinister. "I wanna be you." The syringe was plunged into the shaking man's shoulders. A blue flame was held up to his face in a threatening manner. Shigaraki continues to shake, he tries to scratch at himself, but he can't make himself move. He passed out from blood loss within a couple minutes. Dabi retracted his flame, and Toga took a seat on the bed next to Shigaraki's body, tending to the bag of blood they collected with wide eyes. "We did it, I can't believe we did it," she murmured. Dabi reached out and ruffled her hair like she was a little two year old, "Of course we did. We both know that Shigaraki isn't too clever. We can easily outsmart him." Toga nodded slowly, yawning though shaking her head to wake herself up, "We're good friends now, right?" Dabi nodded, "I just helped you kidnap someone, of fucking course we are." She smiled a bit, then continuing, "... What's your real name?" He's hesitant, obviously caught off guard before the name fell out of his mouth, as if unintentional. "Haruto Todoroki." "I thought you had a similar quirk to mister flaming cunt." "Unfortunately," Dabi hummed as Toga removed the syringe, "He's an awful man, though. He does not deserve the title of Number Two Hero." Dabi hand his hands across the burnt tissue on his face before Toga continued questioning, "He did that to you, huh?" "Yeah, I was trying to protect my little brother." Toga perked up, tilting her head to the side, "Little brother?" Dabi shrugged, "I have three little brothers, one older sister, I'm the second oldest. The youngest, Shouto Todoroki, suffers my father's wrath frequently." "You're saying he beats the living shit out of his children?" The blonde said, her smile turning into a frown as Dabi nodded. "I told you, he's a bad guy. I think he put my mother in a ward." Toga stuck out her tongue in disgust, "Well, he'll be our first target when I take Shigaraki's position, then." She could've swore she saw Dabi smile, even the slightest bit, before he threw Shigaraki over his shoulder and began his trek. Toga began to sip at the blood she had collected. Her first enemy was defeated. It was her turn for the spotlight.

[chims-dimple]

The Journal of a Trapped Soul

WARNING: mentions bullying, suicide, and LGBTQ+. Has a few curse words.

As she walked down the hall to her class, she could hear everything people were saying about her. Even though it was her first day everyone knew who she was. Her mom wanted to leave the past behind, but it looked like that was never going to happen. The skinny brunette walked slowly into the classroom, and took a seat in the back hoping no one would sit next to her. By the end of the class, she wanted to die.  

With every whisper, a new tear would start to stream down her face. She started running from the staring people. Each step she took, the faster she went. She did not stop until she made it home.  

“Kathrine, you are home early. Is everything alright?” her mother asked as the front door slammed shut.  

“I am fine.” Kathrine replied.  

Her eyes still stinging from crying, she walked into her room and pulled out the brick on the fire place that hid a leather journal. The door now locked, she sat at her desk with pen in hand ready to write the feelings she had been bottling up.  

‘Monday, December 21st

Today was my first day at my new school. As always, I had gotten my hopes up too high and my self-esteem came crashing. I thought with my new haircut and clothes I would pass. I had forgotten that on the class list was the dreaded word that I hate the most. Kathrine. I am in no way Kathrine. I never was. I am and always have been Christian. Christian Xavier Blackwell. If I was able to complete what I started last year I could have gotten rid of the dark cloud that surrounds me. ‘

As it was a week before winter break, the students were sending out candy grams to each other. During lunch while the preppy, over achieving students were prancing around the cafeteria handing out candy canes, Christian was sitting alone at a table. He heard something that continued to haunt for the rest of the day.

“Hey, look! There’s the tranny” said a slightly overweight stereotypical high school athlete.

Something Christian never expected to happen did. A tall, gaunt female with long flowing ginger hair walked up and sat next to him.

“Hello! My name is Emma” she said while adjusting what looked like a push up bra filled with tissue paper.  

“Hello” Christian replied quietly.

The conversation continued until the bell rang releasing the herd of students to class. From then the day became less vibrant. As soon as he returned home, he snuck to his room to avoid talking to his transphobic mother. He sat at his desk pouring out his feelings.  

‘Wednesday, December 23rd  

Today I encountered the most transphobic group of assholes in the history of my life. On a happier note I made a new friend. Her name is Emma, she is male to female transgender. Finally, I have met someone who understands me. ‘

Now months have passed, Christian and Emma joined a LGBT support group. Most of the time the group sat around ranting about people that they wanted punch in the face. As Christian continued going to the meetings, he had become more outgoing and outwardly showing his emotions. The group was the closest he had to supportive family.

Within a matter of one class period his day went from untroubled to the worst a young transgender person could experience. While sitting in the back of the Math class, he laid his head on the desk in front of him to try and sleep away the growing headache the teacher’s voice was creating. The person next to him had other plans. Kyle, who had been bullying Christian since the day he arrived at the school. Kyle grabbed a pair scissors out of his bag and slowly lifted the back Christian’s T-shirt then cut straight though his brand new chest binder.

When the class ended, Christian stood up only to have the thing he spent a lot of money trying to hide be shown, his breasts. With what seemed to be a never-ending waterfall of tears, Christian ran to the now closed gym to hide in the locker room. Once there he pulled out his pen and journal to write what he hoped to be his last entry.  

‘Tuesday, April 16th

Today started out great. I got to spend time with the only friends that I have. Then the loudmouthed, ass hat had to ruin my 40-dollar chest binder that I have saved up for. I am just tired. I do not want to be in a world that I am in fear every day of my life. That is why I have to say good-bye.

Sincerely yours, Christian Blackwell. ‘

Setting the pen down, Christian got up from his kneeling position and pulled out a rusty razor blade. Then he walked to the unused showers. Fully dressed, he turned on the freezing cold water. He rolled up his sleeves and pressed the blade into his pale skin, slicing in an upward motion several times. Christian fell to the floor with a thud.  

Later that evening, the janitor went to find out why there was water leaking from the locker room. He entered and asked if anyone was in there. With no answer, he went in, thinking it was a busted pipe. What he did not expect was to find a trail of blood leading to the showers. As soon as he found Christian, he called the police.

The EMTs carried Christian’s barely breathing body on a stretcher out of the gym. The police had to hold back the curious students and parents who heard someone died at the school. In the crowd was Kyle. Once he saw who was on the stretcher, Kyle felt a pain in his chest, as he knew he was guilty.  

Now, at the hospital, Milly, Christian’s mother, sat in the waiting room to hear from the doctor.  

“Hello, Ms. Blackwell. I am Dr. Boone, your son’s doctor,” a short, bald man spoke.

“I don’t have a son. I have a daughter. I don’t care that she claims to be an ungodly transgender.” said Christian’s mom with an eye roll.  

“Well, your child has lost a lot of blood and is currently in a coma. I honestly do not think that they will make it until morning." said the doctor.  

At 10:30 A.M, Christian was declared dead.  

Fog was setting over Garden of Remembrance Memorial Park. A beige colored canopy protected the ivory casket from the predicted rain. As family and friends were sat in foldable chairs, the pianist played Christian’s favorite song. As soon as the G chord rang through the silence, Emma started sobbing. She was remembering the times when she and Christian would randomly start singing “Welcome to the Black Parade” by My Chemical Romance.  All seven of the group members were holding hands until Kyle stood up and walked to the podium.  

He cleared his throat, not to get everyone’s attention, but because he was nervous.

“Christian has joined The Black Parade. I know that I was not best to him while he was here. It was not because I didn't like him. It was because I am jealous of him. Christian was strong enough to come out, when I have been hiding in the dark. I lashed out for the only reason that I was afraid.” He paused and looked at the pale body lying in the casket. "Afraid of be the real me. Christian inspired me come out. Maybe if I was not envious of him, he might still be here. I blame myself. If I hadn't hurt him, he might still be here. If wasn't terrified of what people thought about me, I might have had a chance to be his friend."

Kyle looked at the rest the group for encouragement.

"He was a trapped soul like me and Emma. He spent most of his life defined by a gender and a name. We thought in death he shouldn't have these confines. That's why we paid for the tombstone to say Christian Blackwell instead of Kathrine." Emma stood up and pulled the silk curtain that covered the marble headstone.  

Kyle continued, "It was the best we could do for somebody who, despite being colorblind, brought so much color into our lives."

As if on cue, people started to sing the chorus to Welcome the Black Parade. The sound of singing mixed with the light pitter-patter of rain created a strangely calm environment.  

A/N: Thank you for reading. Feel free to leave feed back in the comments to help in future writing.

[stunudo]

BAU Prep School AU: 2018

Welcome to the Frederick Buchanan Institute located in scenic Quantico, Virginia, a senior high academy that shapes the best and brightest minds. Its motto is “Behavior, Analysis, Unity,” the mascot the Submariners, colloquially “the Unsubs”. The small school supports the most accomplished faculty from across the country. (image link)  2016-2017 school year  Class of 18

Let’s Try This Again

August 21, 2017 12:47pm

The dampness of the air lingered on every blade of perfectly shorn grass. The mud and chalk melded into a homelike aroma, welcoming JJ back, as she strolled from her car in flipflops and oversized sunglasses. She wrinkled her nose; those boys were going to be a smelly mess in this heat. As she crossed the football field, she spotted him taking shots at the goal, bouncing the balls at all angles and doing bicycle kicks and generally goofing around. He was in his element, his grin wide across his features, which was understandable; he still believed himself alone.

JJ burst into a comical round of applause as he hit the turf hard, after an overly ambitious kick forced him into something resembling a snowboarding move.

“Need a hand?” JJ peered down as he lay with his chest heaving.

“Nah, I’m good. The grass will bury me by next week.” Luke Alvez waved off her outstretched hand. “What are you doing here Jareau?”

“Had to make sure my boys were on their best behavior,” She kneeled beside him, now lounging on his side.

“So, you’re not checking up on me?” Luke teased, balancing his forearms on his knees, unable to settle the excitement within himself. “Cuz I’d say you have enough to worry about right now.” She leaned back, rubbing her perfect baby belly affectionately. “What’s the countdown to now?”

“29 days, but who’s counting?” JJ glanced down her nose. “Come on, humor me with some drills. I need to move.”

“Whatever you say, boss.” Luke rolled a nearby ball her way before dramatically flipping back upright.

That’s how the students found them, their new coach playing goalie as their overly pregnant coach kept him dodging for every corner of the box with her pristine aim. The upperclassmen suffered through tryouts before school began each year as their games started the second week of September, freshmen rarely made starter squad anyhow. If the boys wanted to learn something about grit, these were the best teachers they could have asked for. Not that teenagers ask for things so freely given.

Friday September 1 10:32am

It was as if no time had passed, they filed into the Delaney Owens Memorial Library with casual conversation spilling over the meeting’s set start time. The faculty of the Frederick Buchanan Institute gathered for their annual staff pop-wow. Penelope Garcia sat straight backed at Headmaster Hotchner’s left as her boyfriend and football coach, Derek Morgan leaned casually beside her, making small talk with veteran math teacher, Jordan Todd.

“Alright, everyone, let’s make it official. Welcome to the new school year, for those of you unable to attend our little development weekend in July, we have two new staff members this Fall.” Hotch gestured to the middle of the table to his right. “Luke? Would you like to introduce yourself?”

Luke nodded and held up his hand in a short wave, “Luke Alvez, your new Foreign Language teacher and interim soccer coach. Originally from the Bronx, played professionally after college and have been teaching in California and most recently the Carolinas for eight years.”

“Thanks, alright, now the other new face. Matt?” Hotch looked to the far end of the table, the statuesque Asian man smiled slyly with only one cheek.

“I’m Matt Simmons. I’m filling in for Coach Jareau’s classes while she is on leave. I am currently taking a leave of absence, myself, as foreign correspondent for Al Jazeera, but before that I was on the D.C. political scene.”

“Oh, the girls are going to eat you boys up!” Mrs. Todd teased the pair of attractive new teachers.

“Jordan.” Hotch chuckled.

“Oh, who am I kidding, this day and age, everyone is going to love you.” She sighed, spinning back to the headmaster in her seat.

“Right, anyway, welcome, to you both. Penelope?” Hotch kept the meeting succinct.

Ms. Garcia squealed quietly as she spun to address the whole faculty. “Friends, teachers, countrymeh- peoples. Hi!” The meeting continued, Penelope and Hotch covering the new schedules and upcoming events. Something in the air felt more relaxed than years past, as if the summer had yet to release the staff of her transfixing spell. They made their way to the cafeteria, Chef David Rossi’s delights tantalizing their noses from halls away.

“I’ve got to be honest, I am surprised Jareau didn’t make it today,” Luke confided to Emily and Hotch.

“I was surprised I got her to stay home,” Emily deadpanned. “I’m sorry about tryouts, she really doesn’t listen to reason.”

“No, it was fine. Besides, kept the guys on their toes, her shooting past me even with that big belly.” Luke smirked, Hotch sighed as Emily’s face fell.

“She was playing?!”

“What?” Luke froze. “Uh, no, not really.” His face a mask of fear and inability to lie. They had arrived to find their meals waiting. Two tables set equally for seven, saving Luke from the awkward explanation, he quickly followed Spencer, who was chatting with Alex and Stephen animatedly.

“Smooth, Alvez.” Derek patted him on the shoulder as Emily stepped passed them, anxiously checking her phone. Matt Simmons was the last one to join his coworkers, Rossi had already served everyone and had sat himself between Kate and Tara. This left the last free seat next to Alex Blake. He slipped between the Drama and Debate teacher and the ever-bubbly Guidance Counselor. “Ladies, how are we doing this afternoon?”

Alex didn’t respond but held his curious gaze as Penelope began excitedly chippering away to his right.

Tuesday Sept. 5 10am

The summer heat hadn’t relented for two weeks, leaving the players exhausted and desperate after only an hour of running drills. The linemen had the field while the quarterbacks and wide receivers were working through their flexibility drills inside. May Howard never wanted to tackle her own teammates as badly as when they were able to walk back into the airconditioned school.

“Submariners! Positions!” Coach Morgan barked from his perch on the sled. “That means you too, Turner!”

Lucas filled in beside May as their hands and heads fell into line across the turf. Their lungs strained as they waited for the starting whistle. Their coach eyed them, leaving the moment lingering; training their reflexes as much as trying their patience. Then the blast, a jolt of force pushed the large metal framework.

“Don’t stop, get it,” Derek pushed his team. “You go until the play ends. You go until their line breaks and then you take them down!”

May hated being shorter than the guys in moments like this, her legs crossing twice as many steps to keep up with theirs. Lucas laughed as the Coach drew out his ending whistle. Their bodies burning hotter than the midday sun.

“Shower up. We hit the playbook tomorrow. Hard.”

12:57pm

Azalene Curtis could not believe this is where they had been enrolled for the new school year. The place was a freaking castle, she gawked out of the driver’s side as pulled up to the parking lot nearest the Rothschild Auditorium. Her little brother, Jackson, was running late for Freshman Orientation and of course she had to be the one to drop him off. Her hair was braided and wrapped around her head to keep its weight back and off her neck. She helped her brother out of his side of the car and walked him to the doors that had been propped open.

“Lena, you can go now.” Jackson grunted, his elbow crutches easily maneuvered over the lip of the door frame.

“Are you sure? This is an old building, make sure you ask for help if there are too many stairs.” She always worried he would be too pig-headed and miss a class, something their parents tended to ignore when it did happen.

“Are you going to be like this all year?”

“What? Looking out for you? Hell yeah, high school is vicious.”

“You said the same thing about middle school.”

“And I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Whatever, loser, see you later.”

“Have fun, Jax!” Lena turned to descend the slightly inclined walking path. A sleek red convertible came to a screeching halt at the sidewalk. A tiny Hispanic girl nearly jumped from the passenger’s seat as her older brother called from the driver’s side.

“Don’t be rude, Rita. It looks bad on all of us!” Ignacio Cruz reprimanded his freshman sister.

“Go to Hell, Iggy. I’m only rude when you make me late!” And she ran past the Curtis siblings as if they weren’t even there.

Wed. Sept. 6  7:31am

“Good morning everybody. My name is Matt Simmons and I will be filling in for Coach Jareau this fall. I know formality is expected here, but I believe in mutual respect. If you can act in an appropriate manner, you get to call me by my first name.” He stood at the front of his first hour Journalism class in a fresh gray button down matched with a black and white paisley tie. He read the crowd easily, from the overly attentive girl in the front row to the completely disinterested guys in the back.

“You’re actually the Matt Simmons.” Sacha Kane took a quick picture of him. “Best first day of school. Ever.” She read her caption to her Instagram post barely beneath her breath.

“Guys? No pictures, this is a classroom.” Matt sighed. “For those of you who don’t know me, I am a reporter with Al Jazeera. I have a bachelor’s degree from NYU and a master’s from GW.”

“You’re also Hannah’s uncle.” Iggy Cruz added from his perch in the last row, attempting to bring the new teacher down a peg.

“That is correct, Hannah Chang is my sister’s daughter.” Matt smiled easily, arrogant senior guys weren’t really that intimidating after reporting in conflict zones for the past ten years. “And your father is on the Board of Regents and Maya here is Mr. Walker’s daughter. It’s really cozy here at F.B.I., isn’t it?”

“We’re all about getting cozy, handsome.” Sacha leaned back, biting her lip.

“Ms. Kane?” Mr. Simmons raised his eyebrows. “Are we going to have a problem?”

She rolled her eyes and sat up straight, his voice switched from sultry to commanding in an instant. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting from his first day teaching, but this certainly hadn’t been it. Mr. Simmons turned down the lights and began his opening presentation. He left the class with reading assignments and to bring in a print media example of a current events opinion piece for the next day.

“Way to piss off the new teacher, Sacha. Since when do we have homework on the first day?” Jake sassed down at his flirtatious classmate on the way to his second period.

“Jakey, come on. He had that ready before I even snapped a pic.” She grinned confidently. “This semester is going to get me past ten thousand followers.”

10:36am

Luke Alvez’s throat hurt from talking during his morning classes. He started the semester with simple conversations, introductions and asking about the students. Second period was the beginners, but most of the teens had some knowledge of the language as their household staff or nannies may have spoken it around them. There was only one crack about tequila or cerveza, which he chalked up as a win. Now that he was done with his long stretch of classes, he realized how early in the day it was to have lunch.

“I feel like I just had breakfast.” Luke admitted as he grabbed his plate from the cart that Rossi had wheeled in to the staff dining hall, before ducking back to the cafeteria.

“You’re telling me, man. But if you don’t eat now, you’re going to regret it.” Derek shared from experience.

“How’s your first day going, teach?” Kate teased as she dug into her perfectly prepared meal.

“Pretty good, all things considered. I guess Penelope was teaching them at the end of last semester, so I can’t really win any popularity contests.”

“Yeah, don’t sweat it, man. My girl has these kids by the heartstrings and their parents by their wallets, but she was not meant to be teaching. Trust me.” Derek Morgan chuckled.

“We’re just glad you’re here now. Let the craziness of last year be left in the past.” Tara added in her comforting voice.

“Funny the history teacher is talking about leaving things in the past,” Alvez chided.

“Oh, watch out, he’s got the comeback.” Derek egged his coworkers on.

They continued like that up until the bell rattled them back to reality. The easy banter hinting that perhaps this team was going to work out while past line ups had left people slipping between the cracks.

3:42pm

Spencer had been to the principal’s office numerous times over his academic career. Usually as the victim of some sort of bullying, the bruises hidden beneath his oversized clothing. Once it was because he had explained something during a biology lesson and his lab partner thought he was sexually harassing her. And another had been because his history teacher deemed him a distraction to other students and he had to remain in the principal’s office for the remainder of the quarter during that class period. The principal promptly retired the following summer.

These experiences were racing through his thoughts as he knocked on Hotch’s office door after the first day of the new school year. Clammy hands betraying his nerves.

“Come in,” the headmaster’s voice genial. “Reid? Everything okay?”

“You tell me,” Spencer didn’t sit but stood with one hand in his pocket to hide the tension it held. “I have fewer classes on my schedule this year and you gave Sociology to a glorified cameraman.”

“Matt Simmons has an undergraduate degree in Sociology, Reid. He is more than qualified to teach an introductory class on it.”

“As do I. In addition to my three doctorates in other fields.”

Hotch eyed the younger man. “Reid! What is this really about?”

“Do you think I can’t handle the course load? Did I somehow lower the standards with a full schedule?”

“Last year I lost two qualified educators, one to a personal vendetta of a student and one to trauma from the hands of another student. I cannot put my faculty at risk of burn out or exhaustion when the very people we are charged with nurturing could, rather poetically, bite the hand that feeds them.”

“This isn’t about my curriculum?”

“No.”

“Or my attempt at a stargazing club?”

“Not at all, though that really was just asking for kids to sneak off and neck.”

“Neck?” Spencer rubbed his absentmindedly, not getting the reference.

“Spencer,” Hotch leaned on his desk top, signaling the science teacher to sit as well. “I purposely gave you a prep period this year. I don’t want you to work yourself sick. We need to all be on our A game. That means accepting a break, even if we think we’re invincible.”

Spencer’s lips curled into a blushing smirk. “Clever word choice, Hotch. Invincible is late Middle English but has Latinate roots; ‘in’ and ‘vincibilis’ respectably.”

“Reid.”

“Sir?”

“I asked a lot of you, and even more so of Penelope, last term. This is my way of trying to remedy that.”

“Oh.” Spencer caught on. “Well, it was my pleasure. Besides, I kind of owed it to her, too.”

“No, you didn’t, but that’s what makes you a great teacher, Reid. You care so deeply, you take on the burdens of other’s growth. Just make sure you’re taking care of yourself too, yeah?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Friday Sept 8 6:12pm

Maya Walker scrambled through loading the dishwasher, causing both her parents to glance between themselves. She had three different chapters to read, a dozen geometry problems to proof out and a trumpet solo to prepare for seating auditions next week. The pressure was starting to sink in. She gave up snapping Meg Callahan and just called her on speaker.

“This is only the first week of the next four years of my life and I am DROWNING, girl.”

“Hey, Maya.” Meg’s voice sounded overly cheerful.

“Did you just answer the phone at the dinner table? Nu-uh, Kate is going to kill you!”

“Rough week? That sucks,” The line became muffled as Meg clearly played on her aunt’s sympathies to get excused early from the family meal. “Okay, I have ten, twelve minutes tops before she is going to call your mom and check on you.”

“You didn’t have to answer, dork!”

“I couldn’t stand it! Chris was doing light saber noises while trying to convince Kit to eat his Brussel sprouts. They’re Brussel sprouts! It is physically impossible to like them until you’re at least twenty-five!”

“Preach!” Maya filled in. “But seriously, I am dying. Do you have homework? Maybe we can hit the bookstore tomorrow or Sunday. I am going to lose it if I am stuck in my room all weekend.”

“It’s the first week of school, I have like one page of Algebra homework.”

“Which could take hours.”

“Mrrrrrrp. Nope, sorry. I can’t draw it out that long.”

“Please? Because you value me as a friend and person?”

“Maya Walker, don’t go begging now!” Meg cackled. “But seriously, I am sorry you have so much work. And I am slightly terrified for next year. Hey, you said you signed up for Journalism, right?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Is Mr. Simmons as hot as Kate is saying he is?”

“Whoa, go Kate!” Maya cheered on the nurse’s taste. “Yes, he is built like a Greek god, with all the ageless beauty of his Asian roots.”

“Ugh, I wish my teachers were hot.”

“Dude!”

“Okay, well, like, not our parents, obviously.”

“I should hope so!” Mara shuddered. “But seriously, Journalism is first hour, he already knows my name and who I am. It’s going to be a long year.”

“Still a great view to wake up for every morning.”

“Whatever, traitor. So no study sesh this weekend?”

“Nah, sorry. I am babysitting and then we have something on Sunday.”

“You owe me!”

“Yeah, yeah, well I better scram. Hugs!”

“Thanks, Meg. Talk later.”

“Yep.”

Maya hung up the phone and fell dramatically into the mound of quilts atop her bed. She was procrastinating, but something about two days and four assignments felt daunting. After twenty minutes on her favorite puzzle game, she gave in. She got out her trumpet and got to work.

Next Chapter: Uphill

@mentallydatingspencerreid @dontshootmespence @ultrarebelheart @lyrasilverroseelizabethamanti @cynbx @rikersgirl22 @pllfrommars @wheresthewater  @darknesstoglowing @adropintheocean1234567 @tleighstone12 @unitchiefwives @sam-carter-in-training @prettyboysjello @ddreammcatcher @thegirlinflames  @night--hawk @t25luver @onlyalittleteenwolfobsessed @thismiss02 @unitchiefwives

[thisisthe-way]

Of Mercy and Death - Fee

He hasn’t met her yet. She had been their doctor for close to seven months now, but with one or the other always being on a mission, he hadn’t met her.

The new doctor—Angela Ziegler.

He was careful, that was. Unconventional in his execution of his orders, for sure, but always careful. He didn’t like doctors—anyone who believed they were better than someone else just because of their education. Growing up as he had, he knew not everyone had the opportunities for such an education, but that didn’t make them worthless, unintelligent or useless. So, he was always careful.

So, surely, it was an irritation to him when he returned from his most recent mission with a sprained wrist, caused by his own clumsiness and not anything to do with his mission.

“I don’t need to see her, Jack,” Gabriel said. “Why the hell would I let some know-it-all kid play doctor on me? I’ll heal just fine.”

“Oh, really?” Jack said, and glanced at Ana who was leaning in the hallway wall, her arms crossed over her chest. She pushed herself up and approached Gabriel, and took his arm. She barely bent his wrist, and the Hispanic man yelled and yanked his arm away.

“Mm, yeah, you seem fine,” Ana deadpanned with a small smirk. “She’s very sweet, Gabriel. And good at her job. Just go.”

Gabriel sighed, scratching at his goatee thoughtfully wth his good hand, and then nodded. “Fine. Fine.”

He turned and made his way toward he medical wing of the base. He pulled his hood up over his head, feeling a little foolish for having gotten hurt in such a ridiculous way, and having this be the first time he’d officially meet the new doctor.

The door was open and he knocked on the frame with his good hand before stepping inside. “Hello?”

A young woman, barely eighteen at this point, draped in a lab coat and wearing a pair of black slacks and a blue blouse, turned to see her newest patient. Her blue eyes widened a little to see him—both in surprise that he was theee considering how stubborn the rest had said she was, and also surprised to see him up close for the first time.

Despite her intellect and years of schooling, only three words could describe what she thought when she first saw him: He was hot.

“Mr. Reyes, isn’t it?” She said, pushing a fallen piece of her tied back blonde hair behind her hair.

“Uh Huh,” He said, trying to deny that he thought she was beautiful, too. She was a kid—medical prodigy or not. “Nice to meet you, doc.”

“Ziegler. Angela Ziegler,” she replied, and approached him. Her eyes searched his body, despite how much he had tried to cover up, and smiled a little as she lifted his wrist. “Minor sprain to right wrist. Is this your dominant hand, Mr. Reyes?”

He gave a short nod, clearing his throat at her suddenly standing so near to him. He scratched his cheek and murmured, “You can call me Gabriel.”

Angela turned her eyes upward and smiled a little. “Gabriel, then. Come, sit on that table over there and I’ll wrap it. What’s your pain level?”

“Minimal,” He said, hopping up on the metal table easily, the muscles in his thighs moving a little under his pants. Angela paused, blushing, and coughed, clearing her mind as she picked up a clipboard and started to scribble. After clearing her head, she picked up his wrist again and bent it, causing him to yell.

“Minimal?” She repeated with a small smirk and wrote something on her clipboard. “And how did this happen?” She placed the clipboard down and started to dig through a cabinet for pain reducing topical creams and athletic wrap.

“Um, I was on a mission,” he said. “Intel gathering.”

“Was it twisted by a hostile?” She asked, placing the items down on a table next to where she stood in front of him, picking her clipboard back up.

“Not...exactly.”

Angela tilted her head, curiously.

Gabriel stared at her, eyes hard for a moment, but when she simply smiled at him and refused to break her gaze, he scoffed and looked away. “I dropped one of my guns and...tripped over it getting on board my extraction ship. I caught myself before I landed, but only with one hand—felt it hyperextend.”

Angela giggled, her eyes widening in amusement. “Truly?”

“You’re seriously going to laugh at an injured man?” He asked, and his eyes widened when she started to laugh harder. He blinked when he realized how ridiculous he has suddenly sounded, and his face softened and he started to laugh a little. “Okay, that sounded pathetic.”

“It did, but it was cute,” she said, and then realized what she had actually said and pressed small fingers to her mouth. “I mean...”

Gabriel smirked a little. “Cute? I’ve been called a lot of things, but that has to be a first. I think that word fits you better, doc.”

Angela’s blue eyes grew large and a pink blush painted her pale cheeks. She giggled a little sheepishly and scribbled the last of her notes down, placing the clipboard down. Carefully, she lifted his arm and began to massage some of the ointments into the skin. “So, Gabriel...I’ve been here for a few months now...why are you just now introducing yourself to me?”

“I’m not much for educated people,” he replied.

“You were brought up in Los Angeles,” she said, glancing up into his eyes as she began to wrap the injured wrist. “I suppose that infers your upbringing was without many opportunities?”

“Ding ding,” he joked, and shrugged. “It didn’t help I was a troublemaker as a kid. After my mom got sick, I joined the military—I wanted to get right by her before she passed.” His face fell, and he seemed distant for a moment, and then he gave a short, humorless laugh. “Not sure why I’m telling you all this.”

Angela finished wrapping the wrist and went back into her cabinets to look for a brace. With her back to him, she began to speak. “I was born in Switzerland at the height of the war. My parents always knew I was...gifted. Walked early, talked early—excelled at math and science even in my infancy. I was...away at medical school, when their city was attacked. I was...thirteen.”

She closed the cabinet, brace in hand, and turned back toward him. She smiled a little, but her eyes were wet. “They didn’t make it.”

“Sorry,” Gabriel said, as she slid the brace onto his wrist and secured the Velcro. He inspected it, rolled his shoulder and nodded. “Thanks.”

“It should heal within the week. Just try not to move the wrist too much,” Angela said, gently, and then grinned a little. “I’ll send you my fee.”

Gabriel’s eyes widened and then he chuckled when he saw her grinning playfully. “Can I pay you in a cup of coffee?”

Angela’s eyes widened and she placed her hands on her hips. “Aren’t I a little young for you?”

“You’re the one who called me cute, doc.”

Angela laughed. “So I did. I tell you what...this one is on the house but...if you end up in here again, I think we can work something out.” Her eyes danced flirtatiously.

Gabriel stood up and nodded, smirking over his shoulder at him. “Shame I’m so careful on my missions, then. Still...a girl like you could make a man reckless.”

“And to think you were avoiding coming to meet me,” Angela said as she sat down at her desk, smiling at him. “I suppose I’ll see you soon, Gabriel.”

Gabriel grinned wider and shrugged. “I suppose you will.” And he left.

But in the weeks and months to come, he found himself in the medical wing a lot more. And not always because he was hurt. And every time, he brought Angela a cup of coffee—because she was pretty and funny and, well, who was he to not pay her fee in advance, just in case.

[rarespine]

What Lurks Below

I’m going to die. Plain and simple, the end of the road is pretty near for me. I’m floating around in space, alone inside the small scavenger ship that has been my home for what feels like an eternity now. I have no idea what time it is, or even what day it is… But honestly, does that really matter? It’s all the same out here in the empty black void, and the concept of time is now lost on me. At some point, I was heading back to Earth after an intensely bad asteroid mining run… but now getting home is just a pipe dream.

So here I am, propped up in the pilots chair with nothing but a pen, an old instruction manual to write on, and a story to tell. I’ve got limited ship power to spare, so the ship’s systems have all been powered down save for life support and basic dimmed lighting – and they won’t last much longer by my estimation. So I better get this thing done. If someone out there happens to be reading this over my dead body… Give me a proper send off, please?

Now, being a one man crew wasn’t initially the plan, but being a one man operation does mean 100% of the profits, right? I’m such an idiot. Plus, do you want to know what the real kicker is? I’m losing my mind. I’m going insane. I’m actually going bat-shit crazy with what I’ve seen and heard!

It all started happening during an otherwise routine mining expedition. I had been feeling a bit more tired and lethargic than usual, but I put that down to needing time to acclimate back to space – Life out here is a lot different than back at my apartment in Neo Melbourne (The Australian Empire represent!... how I miss it). I had discovered a small asteroid field in the region between Jupiter and Saturn, way beyond the usual hotspots in the asteroid belt on the other side of good ol’ Jupe. It wasn’t a United Galaxy Federation sanctioned zone, but what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

The trip wasn’t much of a problem for my (admittedly tiny) ship’s FTL drive, but there was always the concern about space pirates. A risk I was willing to take for a big score of course… and boy did I find one. After combing through the field for a little while, I found a small group with several small objects and one massive asteroid. Like, I’m talking unusually huge here for what is normally seen inside sanctioned mining zones.

There was a shimmer about it too, an almost neon reflective glow to it as you moved around it. The rock almost seemed to be stuck in place, as though it was unmoving and held still by an invisible hand. I was honestly a bit unsettled at first, but that quickly gave way to excitement. Big score! One big thought came to mind; could this potentially be some kind of exotic material that nobody has seen before, or at the very least an extremely rare mineral? I had to collect some of this and take it back home, make a big score, and then sneak back to my little secluded spot for more!

Now, I know my ship is far too small to be making any kind of safe operation on such a large and potentially unstable rock, but I could not pass up this seemingly once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I went in very slowly and carefully towards the asteroid, and when my landing gear made contact with the side of it, the ship shuddered violently as if the asteroid was trying to shake it off. I honestly thought she was going to tear in half! All told that lasted only several seconds and then everything instantly calmed down. Nerves pretty rattled, I decided to get on with it. This turned out to be another stupid move.

I prepared the ship’s drilling instruments to do their thing, and after a bit of messing about with control panels and whatnot, got the job started. As soon as the drills hit the rock there was an immense sound; a painfully strong echo that shook the ship and pained the ears. I’ll never forget the sound – it was as though a thousand orca whales cried… no, screamed out in unison. It was a horrific sound.

Next thing I knew, I woke up floating around the ship. I had blacked out and the gravity module in the ship was knocked offline. I don’t know exactly how long I was out for, but I was still on the rock and the ship was subtly shaking – no, more like vibrating. My ears were still ringing like mad, and upon closer inspection with my fingers, had bled due to ruptured eardrums. However long I had blacked out for, it was enough time for the blood to clot and dry.

I gathered myself as best I could and made plans to get off this thing. Whatever was wrong with this asteroid, I wanted nothing to do with it. After trying to retract the drilling instruments (they wouldn’t retract and snapped off… of course!), I decided to just get the hell out of here. As the ship’s landing gear released its suction pads and took off, I rolled the ship facing where I had landed to see the damage. Sure enough, my drills were still down there – snapped off and stuck in the surface. But that wasn’t the thing that caught my attention the most. Long cracks spread out from the impact point the drills had made, and these went further up the surface then I could see from my viewpoint. These long cracks originating from such a small and insignificant hole left behind by the drills. It made no sense!

I decided not to give it much more thought and to just get the heck out of there. It was then that I noticed it wasn’t my ship that was slightly vibrating – it was the asteroid. Since logic had gone out the window the moment I saw this thing, I didn’t want to think about it any longer.

Initially I full throttled the ship out of there, but once I got far enough away to feel a bit safer, slowed her right down to do a diagnostics check. She was in a bad way, but still workable. My Faster-Than-Light warp drive was still functioning, which meant getting home shouldn’t be a problem. What was an issue, however, was that the systems power was draining far quicker than it had any right to be. Not being a trained engineer, I had no idea where to even start with it. But a few simple math problems later, I realised I’d have enough to FTL out of here and to get at least within orbit of Earth before the ship went into forced emergency power mode. After finally reaching a safe enough FTL spot, I spun it up and prepared to jump.

Vital Systems functional? Check. Gravity back on? Not vital but far more comfortable. So check. FTL drive stable? Check. Ship hull integrity at a safe level? Check!

With all these sorted out, I strapped in and pressed the engage button. I completed my jump and landed some way off the designated jump zones behind the Moon. Calculations were either off or the FTL malfunctioned. Worse still, I felt awful. Now, usually FTL travel is unpleasant and a bit nauseating at the best of times. It’s normal and all part of the experience. But this time, it was a totally different sensation.

Something was very, very wrong with me. My vision became really blurred, so much so that I couldn’t make out anything around me. I felt around my seat buckles and freed myself, moving out of the chair. As soon as I stood up, I fell to the ground instantly and heard the painful orca-like screaming once again. This time I didn’t just black out, no… This time I was somewhere else entirely.

Near instantaneously I was somewhere else, standing inside of a run-down and seemingly abandoned home. The room was near completely dark except for a corner of the room bathed in red light from the window opposite. I could see the paint peeling off the walls, holes the size of fists throughout and a mess of furniture such as a cradle strewn over the rotting floorboards. At this point I was one-hundred-percent sure I had lost my mind. I was probably dead in actuality. Yep, this must have been hell.

I glanced out the window and was met with the most surreal sight I’ve ever witnessed in my life. Blood red skies lined with pitch black and grey clouds, above what can only be described as utter chaos. Wherever this was, it was now unrecognisable. This could have been any of the planets that had matured human colonies and countries on them. It was then that I started hearing strange chanting. Subtle and muted at first, but quickly becoming louder and louder until I couldn’t even hear myself think. My hands instinctively cupped tightly over my ears as I made my way into other areas of the home. The sounds appeared to be coming from a room down a small flight of stairs – leading into the basement.

I wanted to run and to hide for my own safety and sanity. But yet something was drawing me towards the basement. A strange sound that appeared to underline the ongoing chanting, yet not at all in rhythm with it, and almost as if it was talking to me through its strange, incomprehensible whispers. A mix of whispering and guttural sounds all mixed into one blood chilling theme. Yet somehow it soothed me, removing all fear and feelings and placing my whole being into a numb and trance-like state. My legs began moving against my will, heading towards the basement door. One step, two steps, all the way down. The chants got louder and louder while the whispers continued to numb, and in my tranced state I slowly and calmly placed my hand upon the door handle and turned it.

The view from inside the basement became clear. Seven human figures adorned in black robes circled around a makeshift altar. It was as if these people had watched far too many old world movies, for they hit all the tropes. The stone altar was long in width; almost a bed, and covered in intricate markings and rune-like symbols. Even in the dim of the candle-lit room, these markings glowed with a bright orange-red, almost fire-like appearance.

Only one of the hooded figures stopped chanting and turned to face me when I opened the door. They pulled back their hood to reveal an older human woman with short brown hair. She stared at me for just a moment before her wrinkled mouth curled into a wicked smile. She motioned to the altar and right on command my body obeyed the order, slowly walking towards it.

I felt nothing. No fear, no sense of danger. I was trapped in a world of numbness. The strange whispers kept me dull and sedated. I reached the altar and turned to look at the old woman. She reached out and placed the palm of her left hand against my forehead, but only for a moment before motioning to lie down on the altar.

Unable to resist, and incapable of logical reasoning, I immediately did as was asked of me. Lying down and staring up at the wooden framed ceiling. Feeling absolutely no sense of dread or fear, while the hooded figures gathered closer, held me down and tied my arms and legs to hooks in the floorboards. That was, of course, until the whispers stopped. In an instant I regained my senses, head darting from side to side, the recollection of what I’ve done coming to me and forcing me to realise what a terrible mistake I had just made. I tried to yell and scream but no sound escaped. I tried moving my arms and legs in an attempt to break free, but they were bound far too tightly – there was no escape.

The robed people’s chanting grew louder and more intense. The old woman adorned her hood once again and reached inside of her robe, pulling out a large sharp knife. The blade wasn’t your ordinary murdering instrument – the metal was etched with more of the fire-like runes all across the blade, as though a madman had scrawled and scribbled all over it.

The blade was positioned above the centre of my chest, two hands firmly gripped upon the handle. I stared at the tip of the knife with the cold realisation this was it for me. The knife rose slightly and then plunged down with force. As the intense pain hit me, my eyes rolled into the back of my head and I saw things; I heard things. Things I couldn’t believe or completely comprehend. I saw a planet in utter chaos. An earthquake the likes never before seen on any civilised planet, tearing up the surface and spewing molten lava from the incredible depths below. Ash and dust blot out any hint of a sun in the sky, and threw the entire planet into instant turmoil.

The whispers returned but this time I understood nearly every single word of it. It heralded the delivery of an unholy being from below, a creature born from that planets core, incubating like a developing chick ever since time existed for that planet. Growing stronger and maturing for a day and time that it would be released to wreak havoc upon anything that lived above. How did the people here get it all so wrong? How did they not know of this and discover this sooner?

The whispers spoke of each and every planet developing and housing such monstrosities. Every single creature that lived and survived above existed solely to unwittingly feed and nurture the hell beasts below.

Then… I saw it. For a split second I had visions witnessing the arrival of this demon. In that split second I saw a creature as tall as a skyscraper. Wings like a bat, but a body with thick stone-like hide. A head that looked like an experiment between a spider and a crocodile had gone horribly, horribly wrong. Twelve eyes that were as black as the void itself adorned its freakishly big and scaly head. Then it all faded to black.

Next thing I knew I was back on the ship. I had been on the ground, lying in a pool of my own vomit and saliva, staring blankly into nothingness until I regained awareness once again. My whole body ached as though an enormous weight had been upon me the entire time. My head spun; the things I saw and witnessed still swirling in my memory. I wanted it all to have been a horrible dream, but I couldn’t explain then, how I was able to feel that knife plunging into my chest, and the intense heat of the beast arriving from the depths below.

I managed to scramble to my feet and noticed that my auto-pilot had taken control. The metal blast doors on the windows had been released, obscuring any view from outside. The control panel blared with Danger warnings, warning about intense heat and radiation. It must have gone even further off course and gotten closer to some strange anomaly. I moved to override the blast door protocols for a peek outside the ship, and once one section was pulled up I was met with the worst sight of my life so far...

I saw a planet glowing deep crimson with billowing grey clouds. The heat through the ship windows was incredibly intense so I quickly released the blast windows once more. This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening…

I pulled up the FTL screen and punched in Earth’s co-ordinates, and was met with two of the worst possible error screens. Engine failure and destination already reached. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The realisation hit me that there was no recourse left for me. The once sacred green and blue planet was now red, grey and black.

So that’s my story. I honestly doubt anybody will be coming anywhere near this planet to even reach my ship, and that’s provided I don’t end up burning in “Earth’s” atmosphere in the first place. But whatever happened to me on this journey; whatever it was I saw in my visions… It happened. Which must mean that no planet is actually safe… Oh god… You have to warn the Federation!

-The End…?-

[sofieamalien]

Attached at the heart

A Once Upon a Time AU where Lily and Maleficent are both included in Regina’s dark curse. Past and present are connected. Maybe a dark curse isn’t enough to hide their true selves and cut the strings that connected them.  

Fandom: Once Upon a Time Pairing: DragonQueen  Words: 1934 Chapter 1 of ? 

By SofieAmalieN

”Mom!”

Maleficent rushed through the hallways out into the fortress grounds upon hearing Lily’s frightened call. She had barely set foot outside, before Lily rushed into her arms.

“It’s coming. Mom, she did it. It’s coming.”

Maleficent hugged her daughter close and looked up at the darkened sky, watching the cloud of magic draw nearer.

“It’s all right, Lily,” she whispered and kissed the top of Lily’s head. “I won’t let go.”

The cloud drew nearer and Maleficent could feel Lily trembling against her.

“Mom, are we going to die?” Lily’s voice was small and tainted with fear.

Maleficent shook her head and hugged Lily closer to her. “No, my darling. I won’t let that happen,” she said and closed her eyes as the cloud enveloped them.

Maleficent groaned slightly as her alarm went off. She reached out to turn it off, only to realize that she was quite close to the edge of the bed. She shifted carefully to her other side, only to find Lily sleeping beside her, curled up against her. “Hello Lily.”

Lily stirred beside her, opening her eyes with a shy smile on her lips. “I had another nightmare,” she confessed and snuggled up against Maleficent.

Maleficent nodded and wrapped her arms around her daughter. Lily was thirteen now, but the nightmares seemed to become more frequent, despite what doctor Hopper had said. “The same one?” Maleficent asked softly and nuzzled against her daughter’s dark hair. Lily nodded against her and Maleficent hugged her closer. “It’s all right, dear. You know you can wake me. You have nothing to be embarrassed about.” Maleficent pulled back, looking into her daughter’s soft brown eyes. “Time to get up. You have school and I have work.”  

Maleficent got dressed for work and had packed Lily’s school lunch before Lily came down into the kitchen. Maleficent smiled and watched as Lily settled down to eat her breakfast. “It’s raining, would you like me to drive you to school?” Maleficent asked as she walked up behind Lily, placing her hands on her shoulders.

Lily looked back over her shoulder at her mother and nodded. “Yes please,” she said with a smile. “Will you braid my hair? We have P.E. today, if you make it tight it’ll be just right for the rest of the day.”

“Of course,” Maleficent said and fetched the brush and hair tie from the vanity by the entrance. “Won’t it be messy after P.E. though?” Maleficent asked as she began braiding Lily’s long hair.

“That’s the point mom,” Lily said and finished her breakfast.

                     It was still pouring down when Maleficent parked her car at the town hall. Lily wasn’t the only child who had been driven to school because of the rain, which meant that the school parking lot had been quite chaotic, leaving Maleficent late for work. Late was relative though. She had no set working hours, but today she knew she had a meeting with the mayor.

Maleficent rushed inside and hung her coat and hat on the coat rack, before she waked passed her own office, straight to the mayor’s office. “Sorry I’m late. It would seem most children were driven to school today, due to the rain,” she excused herself as she walked into the mayor’s office, heading straight towards the desk. “Good morning Regina.”

“Good morning Maleficent,” Regina greeted her warmly. “You’re less than a minute late, I’ll let it slide,” she teased and rose, stepping around the desk to greet Maleficent. “I only just got here myself, I took Henry to school today.”

Maleficent smiled and leaned in, kissing Regina softly. It felt good being able to kiss Regina. Though their relationship wasn’t official or public knowledge, no longer tip toeing around each other was a step in the right direction. “Thank you. How was your movie date with Henry last night?” Maleficent asked as they parted and moved to sit by the coffee table to start their meeting.

“It was good,” Regina said and poured them each a cup of sweet peppermint tea. “We watched Sleeping Beauty, it’s been a while, but at least Henry isn’t afraid of the villain anymore,” Regina recounted joyfully.

Maleficent nodded and pulled out the budget plans. “We’re still avoiding dragon film and anything to do with flying. Lily keeps having nightmares.”

“Didn’t doctor Hopper say it was going to disappear as she got older?” Regina asked, worry seeping through her words. Part of her choice to adopt Henry was because she had seen Maleficent with Lily seeing the love and connection between the two.

“He did,” Maleficent said with a nod and looked up at Regina. “It’s all right. We talk about it now. She’s not hiding her fears and it’s not eating her from within. Now, let’s get this over and done with.”

                     By noon Maleficent and Regina were about halfway through the next year’s budget proposal. The medical expenses had been the most troublesome and even that had been settled without too much difficulties. Maleficent expected that they’d have to raise the town taxes by less than half a percentage point to make the inhabitants of Storybrooke continue their charmed lives.

“Really, kale salad isn’t as bad as it looks,” Regina said as Maleficent unpacked their lunch from Granny’s. The rain had let off, but dark clouds still hung low in the sky.

Maleficent placed the two bottles of water on the table between them followed by her own lunch, tomato soup and a light garden salad. “Oh I would certainly hope so. Because it looks like you’re eating weeds.” Maleficent said and took her seat. “Eat, I want to finish this today, and preferably before school ends.”

“I know, I know,” Regina said dismissively. “But we’re handling the school budget next, that always takes twice as long as anything else.”

“It shouldn’t this year. With all the changes, we made last year and the success we’ve seen this year, it should just need minor readjustments and updating. It shouldn’t take long. And I want to finish, I’m not working on this over the weekend.” Maleficent said pointedly. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to spend her weekend working with Regina, however she had promised Lily that they’d have a quiet weekend at home.

Regina nodded, chewing on her kale salad. “Let’s hope you’re right,” she said with a bright smile.

                     “How was your day?” Maleficent asked as Lily slid into the passenger seat, sheltered from the rain that once more fell over Storybrooke. Maleficent held in the carpool lane, right behind Regina. The line wouldn’t progress until every car had collected their child and Maleficent was in the back of the line.

“It was good,” Lily said as she leaned across and kissed Maleficent’s cheek. “I got an A on the history paper from last week. And two starts on my math homework,” she said proudly. “Oh and I scored a goal in soccer during P.E.”  Lily sat back and buckled her seat belt. “How was your day? You had budget meetings with the mayor, right?”

Maleficent nodded and shifted the car into gear as the line of cars began to move forward. “Yes. We finished about half an hour ago. Might have to go over some details after the weekend, but the majority is done.”

“That’s great mom,” Lily said cheerfully. “Miss Blanchard is having us all build birdhouses again next week. Do we have room in the garden for another one?”

“Yes, I’m sure we can find a spot for it,” Maleficent said with a chuckle. Lily wasn’t gifted with wood craft and the crooked birdhouses from each spring hung proudly in their garden. And to Maleficent’s knowledge most of them had inhabitants. “What’s the theme this year?”

“Fairytales,” Lily answered with a shrug.

                     Saturday began with sunshine. Maleficent woke alone in her bed, but the place beside her was still warm, indicating that Lily had crept into her bed once more. Maleficent hated that her daughter was troubled by nightmares, but sought comfort in the fact that sleeping beside her mom brought calm to the young woman.

Maleficent rose and stretched, before she slipped her silk robe over her pajamas and made her way downstairs. “You’ve made breakfast,” she said happily as she found Lily in the kitchen. The table was set, a stack of pancakes in the middle, various marmalades and syrups ready for their enjoyment. It was a breakfast feast fit for a queen.

“Yes, the tea’s steeping and there’s cookie dough chilling in the fridge for later,” Lily said and pulled off the apron, revealing her own set of pajamas. “Did I wake you?” She asked, before she walked up to Maleficent and hugged her.

Maleficent returned the hug and placed a kiss to the top of Lily’s head. “No, no you didn’t. Maybe smell of pancakes woke me? It looks delicious.” Maleficent let Lily go again and they sat down to enjoy their breakfast.

Maleficent loved the quiet weekends at home with Lily, treasuring the time as she watched Lily grow up. She knew Regina enjoyed her time with Henry too, but Maleficent couldn’t help but to miss Regina the two days a week they didn’t work together. It was foolish. It had been less than half a year since they had shared their first kiss. They both feared how their children would react. Two single mothers falling in love. How would the town react? The mayor and the deputy mayor becoming a couple. Maleficent worried more about the inhabitants of Storybrooke than she did Lily. Her daughter was kind and open and Lily knew Regina, Lily had always been a frequent visitor at the town hall, especially when she was younger.

                    By afternoon Maleficent and Lily had both gotten dressed and decided to take a walk down through the town. When the weather permitted it, they had ice cream at Any Given Sundae and on cold winter walks they had hot chocolate peppermint at Granny’s. The sunny afternoon led them down to the Storybrooke harbor, looking at the ships that were getting ready for the spring and the summer. They continued down to the beach, before turning back to walk into town.

“Good afternoon Maleficent, Lily,” Regina greeted them as they reached the grocery store. Regina’s arms were wrapped around a bag of groceries as she attempted to reach her keys to unlock the car.

“Hello miss Mills,” Lily greeted her. “Do you need a hand?”

“I think that’s a given,” Maleficent said and reached out, taking the bag into her own arms.

“Yes, thank you,” Regina said and found her keys. She unlocked the car and opened the trunk. “Lucky for me, two such lovely ladies came by, just when I needed them.”

Maleficent smiled and placed the groceries in the trunk of Regina’s car. “You’re welcome, Regina.”

“Thank you,” Regina repeated and closed the trunk again. “How may I repay this kindness? May I offer you dinner?”

Maleficent shook her head slightly and wrapped her arm around Lily’s shoulders. “That’s not necessary Regina. We’re happy to help, you needn’t repay us.” Maleficent didn’t miss the disappointed look that flashed across Regina’s features, which tore at her heart.

“Why not mom?” Lily asked and looked up at Maleficent.

Maleficent tilted her head slightly, wondering what her daughter might know or suspect. “Well maybe dinner wouldn’t be a bad idea,” she amended with a soft smile.

“Tomorrow?” Regina suggested. “Five o’clock? I’ll make sure to send you home in time for bedtime,” she added fondly.

Maleficent nodded. “Tomorrow at five.”