#ok fine it’ll go on the never ending list of drawing ideas

[laurrelise]

and what a goddamn shame that sissy never got to see viktor in his white violin suit. the gay panic that would’ve radiated through her, oh trust me on this one

update: guess who forgot that she literally finds him in the white violin suit. ok im just dumbassing let me be

[notisaidshe]

☆Heroic☆

~Chapter 1: If I Had a Wish~

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Rating: PG

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: There's some angst related to Missy's mother being dead.

Author’s Note: This is a slow burn Marcus Moreno x Fem! Reader series. It'll be fluffy and sweet. I'm very new to fanfiction, so I hope I'm doing this right. Feedback is appreciated, but please be nice about it.

Summary: You're a schoolteacher. One of your students, Missy Moreno, has a handsome father who always picks her up in the carpool lane. You have a bit of a crush on him, but he's off-limits. An essay Missy writes makes you cry. 

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A breath of fresh spring air greets you as you step out into the warm sunshine. Your students trail behind you, some walking in a neat single-file line and others fragmented into small clusters, socializing among themselves.

And then there’s Missy. Missy Moreno is a bright, enthusiastic student who has a bit of trouble connecting with children her own age. She’s plenty friendly, but the way she sees the world and operates within it is far beyond where most of the other kids her age are developmentally. So she prefers to read her books and tell you all about them as she waits outside for her father to pick her up from school. You glance down at the book in her hand as she anxiously watches the slow line of cars passing through the parking lot.

 

“Another one already?” You’re genuinely impressed by her speed. You saw the book she was reading yesterday and she was only a third of the way through. She beams back at you.

“Yep! I finished the other one last night.”

“And? You’re just gonna leave me hanging?” She giggles.

“Well… they found him!”

“They did???” You feign surprise, but she’s too smart for your tricks and gives you a lighthearted eye roll.

“Come on, you knew that!”

“Well, yeah,” you acquiesce, “but how?” You’re genuinely curious.

“Oh. He left clues in the postcards."

"Ahh… Smart."

You're interrupted by the sound of a window rolling down and a man's voice calling out.

"Hi, Missy." She quickly shifts her attention to the car you hadn't noticed driving up. 

"Daddy!" Missy runs over to the car, throws her book bag in the backseat, and crawls into the passenger side of the car. You smile and turn to walk away, but her father catches your eye for a moment. He flashes a cordial grin while lifting a few fingers off the steering wheel in a wave, his other arm reaching out to embrace his daughter.

"Thank you." You can’t help but notice the way his eyes practically sparkle in the light, the warm sincerity of his tone, his casual, one-handed grip on the steering wheel, the ring on his finger… You sharply bring your attention back to the moment, refusing to let your mind wander. He’s married, with at least one child. Strictly off-limits. 

“Have a good, day, Mr. Moreno.” 

And then he’s gone. The afternoon continues normally. You make sure all the rest of the students are picked up, then retreat to your classroom to gather your things and leave. Nothing strange happened, nothing out of the ordinary, and yet… you can’t seem to shake the thought of him from your mind. It’s ridiculous. 

You’ve had a bit of a crush on Missy’s dad since you first met him at the beginning of the school year. He walked into your classroom holding her hand and never once let it go. You chuckled to yourself as you watched him struggle to hold the orientation papers and school supply list, the classroom workbook your students used all year, and the candy you gave out all in one hand. You were sure he would give up and use both hands, but you never saw it. He just kept on holding his daughter’s hand.

Your night proceeds like always. You get home, plop your stuff on the table, and fix yourself some scrambled eggs for dinner. They turn out perfectly, like always. The secret is to whisk them thoroughly with milk to become fluffy while the pan heats up, then pour them in and stir by pulling the edges inward. You stir in shredded cheddar cheese, then season at the very end with salt, pepper, and fresh chives from your herb planters. Like always. 

After eating, you pull out your school bag and start grading papers. The children wrote today about what they would do if they met a genie who gave them one wish. The responses are as varied as the students themselves as you read through stories of vast fortunes, magical powers, pets, time travel, and more. But one essay in particular catches you by surprise.

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

If I Had a Wish

By Missy Moreno

I was walking home one day when I met a magical genie. He was blue all over and could float. It was really cool.

“Hi, are you a genie?” I said.

“What makes you think that?” he asked.

“Well, because you are blue and floating. I think it’s a fair question, but I’m sorry to assume anyway.”

“Yes, I am a genie, and only people with pure hearts can see me. Because you have found me, I grant you one wish.”

“Wait, really? Why?”

“What do you mean, ‘why?’ I’m a genie. It’s what I do.”

“Oh. Um, ok…” I thought for a moment, “What kind of stuff can I wish for?” He smiled.

“Anything that you want. I can make you rich. I can give you flying powers. I can-”

“Wait, is this like the monkey’s paw?” I did not want to be tricked.

“H-how did you know about that?” The genie seemed astonished. I knew about it because of a movie I saw where there was a magic rock that granted wishes, but the bad guy turned himself into the rock and started giving other people wishes, but all the wishes had secret evil consequences. Except it turns out that that movie got the idea from a short story called The Monkey’s Paw, so that’s the one that I said. 

“Fine, I’ll actually give you what you wish for,” the genie sighed, but I still didn’t trust him.

“No, thank you. I’m going to go home now. I hope you have a good day,” I told him. Then I walked away from him. He huffed like he was upset, but I didn’t even look back. Plus, I had already seen a movie about genies, and that one was also blue, so they were probably the same kind of genie. The genie from the movie said that genies couldn’t kill anybody, bring anybody back alive, or make anyone fall in love. So even if I did make a wish, it would not work.

That is because if I could have any one wish granted, I would wish to have my mother back alive. I don’t remember her very well, but my dad says I am a lot like her and that she used to always call me bonita. My dad says it’s hard to be both the dad and the mom, but I think he is doing a great job. Except I still would rather have my mother again. 

The end.

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

    ...Wow. You wipe a tear from your eye with your sleeve and draw in a shaky breath. You had no idea.

    That would explain why you never saw a Mrs. Moreno, even though Mr. Moreno wore a wedding ring. You had wondered before, but you always figured she just had a busy schedule. It had never occurred to you that she was dead. Poor Missy. You can’t imagine what it’s like to have to go through childhood without a mother, especially with your father as the leader of the Heroics. You wish you could do more, offer more support, help the family beyond just grading papers and attending meetings.

What is one supposed to do in a situation like this? Alert the school counselor? No, probably not. Missy wasn’t at risk, and it had happened years ago. You don’t want to aggravate an obviously painful wound. Instead, you resolve to keep being as good of a teacher as you can, giving her a sense of normalcy, but also offering encouragement and love. After all, that’s why you became a teacher in the first place: to lead by example. ■

[syms-things-5]

CLEAR THE AREA - Chapter Twenty

Previous Chapter here

Warnings: language and the usual angst

Summary: I made it! My first story at an end. Thanks for stopping by and sticking by me over the last few months. I'm strangely quite proud of myself for sticking with this even when I had zero idea of how things were going to go. I have plans for a sequel of sorts and I hope you come back for that (when I get my ass in gear to write it!).

Tags: Thanks to @kelbabyblue @jennmurawski13

Chapter Twenty

The hot shower was a welcome relief when she finally stepped inside. It had been a hell of a long day. Far longer than she could recall and she had battled plenty. 

 Sarah had been back at work for a week or so and trying her hardest to deflect questions. Audrey had, she realised, kind of figured most things out without having to awkwardly impose the third degree on her pal. She knew everyone in the family knew and while at first she was happy and possibly even a little excited by that knowledge, her enthusiasm soon turned to concern when Sarah informed her that Shanna had been ignoring all of her messages and calls ever since. None of Audrey’s queries beyond that were met with much more than a non-committal shrug. How could Sarah be expected to answer any of Audrey’s questions when she didn’t have any of the answers to her own? 

 “She’ll come around. She has to.” Audrey said, in her soothing tone that always seemed to work no matter what news she was giving. “She won’t want to lose you. You’ve been friends for years.” 

 A few people had said variations of the same thing to her lately. That Shanna will come around, that she was just shocked but she’ll eventually understand, and that things will get better. Carly said Shanna had a wicked stubborn streak in her that even she struggled with at times but she also knew she loved Sarah very, very much. It was just a tough time but she’ll learn to understand. It would absolutely be OK, she would bet money on it Sarah wasn’t so sure. 

She already knew Shanna was as stubborn as they come - she’d lived with her long enough - so when exactly was she expected to “learn how to understand”? More importantly, why did she even have to? They had been best friends for years but Sarah had betrayed her trust and flat-out lied to her face. Multiple times. “White lies” Scott called them, shrugging them off as though they were a big pile of nothing and just something people do when they need to get out of awkward situations. Sarah wasn’t sure sleeping with her best friend’s brother counted as an “awkward situation” or something that could be casually brushed aside with a sweep of the hand but nevertheless, she appreciated his efforts. 

 These were the conversations that kept circling around her mind as she stood under the shower head. Normally, she wasn’t one for wasting water but she allowed herself to enjoy it a little more this time. The soapy lather and fragrances of lavender and sandalwood surrounded her senses and was very soothing to her brain. 

She barely noticed the fog steaming up the bathroom and focussed on the feel of the hot water cascading over her tired, worn-out body instead. If she died right here, right now, they could say she was probably the most relaxed she had been in months. 

 “Shall we pick you up from the airport? It’s no trouble.” Jocelyn fussed on the end of the line. There was a loud scraping sound somewhere in the near-background so Sarah figured she was back on the DIY again. That, or she had given the pottery classes another go. Recollections of Shanna laughing herself silly at Jocelyn “doing pot” flooded back into her memory all of a sudden and only served to leave her feeling sad in the pit of her stomach. 

“No, Mom, it’s fine. It’ll be late. I’ll just get a cab.” Sarah calmly affirmed, one hand holding the phone to her ear and the other shoving yet more clothes into her suitcase. She’d given up on folding like an adult. “The flight could be delayed so I don’t want you hanging around the airport any longer than necessary.” 

 “But you’ll have bags, Sarah. Heavy bags and that’s no good. You don’t want to give yourself an injury.” 

 “Mom, I have one suitcase. Don’t be so over-dramatic.” She eye-rolled. 

 That was the…fourth lie? Perhaps the fifth since this conversation had started? Who knew. Sarah glanced down at the suitcase on her bed currently lying next to a smaller, overnight suitcase. There was also a backpack and a laptop bag sitting ready by her bedroom door. It was just easier this way. If she had to explain her real intentions, she would never finish packing and her parents would be on the red-eye to Boston. 

 “OK, well, keep us posted when you leave and when you land and I suppose we can go from there.” Jocelyn sighed. Whatever she had been doing had now stopped and Sarah could imagine the look of concern on her face. She was momentarily consoled by the fact that her Dad would at least see things from her point of view and hopefully Jocelyn would learn to just drop it. 

 Sarah hung up the phone and went back into the bathroom to finish drying her hair currently wrapped up in a towel. Shanna had shown her a trick with a towel and an old cotton t-shirt some years earlier after she had eventually agreed to stop cutting her hair. “It’s so beautiful and curly but, like, it’s a nice curl? A gentle curl. Honestly, girls would pay so much money every day to have waves like yours.” enthused Shanna at the time. It was a sweet thing to say. Jocelyn had said much the same thing as she was growing up but Sarah always preferred shorter cuts because she couldn’t be bothered to spend time styling it every day. And it would always take time. Too much time. 

 Her longer hair felt so lifeless and dull by comparison, she thought, except when Audrey would blow-dry it during one of their all-too-rare girls’ afternoons and rub this coconut concoction into her roots so it smelled delicious for days afterwards. Or when Chris would gently comb his fingers through it when he thought she was asleep. She didn’t mind it so much then. 

 She finished the last brush-through and switched off the dryer, wrapping the cord around the handle ready for it to be packed. A dab of foundation under her eyes and she looked reasonably well-rested now; well enough so as not to draw attention to any stresses or worries. Jocelyn always had a knack for sussing them out and it was frustrating and unwelcome at the best of times. That she was usually right was beside the point. 

 She mentally ticked off a list of items she made a point of packing; some comfy sweatpants, a couple of books, her particular brand of coffee because her folks now apparently hated the stuff. She located her passport and boarding pass for the tenth time, making sure they were safely zipped in the side pocket of her backpack. She was pretty much done. If it wasn’t for the looming feeling of regret, she would call a cab to take her to the station right that minute. 

 Looking down at her phone, she decided to call Shanna one last time. It rang a few times before a groggy voice appeared on the end of the line. 

 “Hey….” Shanna offered, cold but not totally unhappy to hear her, Sarah thought. The last few times she had tried calling Shanna, it would ring for a lot longer. The shortness here was a small step in the right direction. 

 “Hey, how are you feeling?” Sarah asked with some trepidation, trying not to sound overly familiar and casual. She was trying to follow Shanna’s lead with regards to friendly small talk. 

 “Better. Mom’s been making soup every day. Sick and tired of the stuff to be honest.” Shanna had come down with a small cold and had used it as an opportunity to stay in the relative ease and comfort of her mother’s house. Sarah would much rather have seen her in person before she left but speaking on the phone without one of them, or both of them, ending up in tears was also good. 

 “Well, at least you’re in the best place. Your Mom always makes me feel better when I’m unwell.” Sarah smiled down the line. 

 “I’m not unwell, Sarah.” she said, defensively. “It’s just a cold. I’m just tired.” 

 Sarah feared she’d overstepped the mark. “OK, well, still, it’s good that you’re there. ‘Cos…Lisa would just worry otherwise. Probably.” She was babbling now and she knew it but she couldn’t think of anything to say. Shanna had put up something of a wall between them now and while she was talking to her and not completing freezing her out, it felt different and not altogether pleasant.

 “Yeh, that’s true.” Shanna responded after a brief pause. “But you’re a nurse so you would think I would be better in my own home.” 

 “Nah, I’d just be bringing back all kinds of infectious things.” Sarah joked and was relieved to hear a laugh on the end of the line, a laugh that very quickly turned into a harsh cough. But it had definitely started out as a laugh so she’d take that as a win, too. 

 “So, have you been really busy?” Shanna asked after she managed to clear her throat. 

 “Same old. We have a new intern and she’s pretty eager to get stuck in which is great. Audrey is impressed so that should tell you how amazing she is.” Sarah offered. It had in fact been busier than most days but now wasn’t the time to relay the usual information she wouldn’t normally think twice about offering to Shanna when she had asked. 

 “That’s cool.” Shanna coughed again and cleared her throat. “Have you been working all the time or, um, have you had much of a break?” 

 “Pretty much all the time, yeh. I did those double shifts I was meant to do last month so I’ve cleared my flexi-time now which is good. I’m back on track.”

 “That’s cool.” Shanna said. 

 “Yeh and I built up some more which is good, too. It’ll come in handy at Christmas perhaps.” Sarah was trying to keep the conversation going as best as she could. 

 “Cool. Do you just come home and crash, then?” 

 “Most of the time, yeh.” 

 “You don’t go out anywhere or anything?” 

 “Um,” Sarah had a vague idea of what she was getting at. “I don’t really have time to do anything else. I wanted to get my hours back up to a healthy point. You know what O’Brien can be like.” 

 There was silence on the end of the line. Sarah could hear her shuffle about in what she assumed was her bed. Shanna coughed again, gentler this time, and sighed as she tried to think of what to come back with. She knew she was probably being a little obvious now. 

 “Well,” Shanna started. “I hope you’re getting through it all OK. Y’know, the work and stuff. I hope you’re doing alright.” 

 “Thanks. Yeh I’m…I’m alright.” Sarah replied, touched by the slight concern she could hear her speak. “I hope you feel better soon, too. It’s not fun having a cold particularly at this time of the year.” 

 “I’m sure Mom has been crushing aspirin and vitamins into my food so I’ll be Wonder Woman before you know it.” 

 Sarah laughed. “Absolutely you will. I’ll, er, let you get back to resting. Are you up to much?” 

 “No, I’m just watching Netflix.” 

 “Ah right. That’s cool. Lots of new murder shows from what Audrey tells me.” Sarah nodded. She knew Shanna wasn’t about to launch into a description of what programme she had been binging the last few days so they both vocalised their goodbyes and hung up. It was the first call that had ended on a mutual note and not Shanna making a lame excuse to cut off Sarah’s equally lame attempts at small talk. Again, Sarah took it as a positive. 

 Sarah looked down at her phone, a photo of them both in their graduation gowns on her home screen. She hadn’t changed it since she’d gotten the upgrade a year earlier and she had no intention of doing so now. It was a nice day, a nice memory. The hangover she suffered for days afterwards was more than worth it. 

 She was unsure why Shanna had felt the need to ask her what she’d been up to. She had seemed very specific, more so than about anything else they talked about lately. Naturally, Shanna knew Sarah well enough now to know she relied on work whenever she was dealing with something upsetting and difficult so surely it would have been obvious that she had had zero contact with Chris. He probably would have said as much to her in person. Or he would have talked with Scott or Lisa, and Shanna would have eventually found out by default. 

 The more she thought about it, the more anxious she felt. Knowing how she and Chris had left things, it was almost entirely likely that he hadn’t spoken to Shanna too much. Perhaps he had holed himself up in his apartment like he did following a tiring shoot, trying to sleep and rest and eat whatever carbs he could get his hands on. Maybe the opposite and he’d thrown himself into some training again. Maybe he’d gone back to Los Angeles for work, that he’d finally given in to Matt’s nudges and agreed to accept one of the many lucrative endorsement deals brands would throw his way every so often. Maybe he had been entertaining himself with the boys. Or with someone else. Someone… 

 No. This had been Sarah’s fault. There was no point trying to find justification for his absence. She had created a rift between a brother and sister where one should not have existed. He should have talked to Shanna but from Shanna’s probing and what little information she could gleam from Scott, evidently that didn’t appear to have taken place. She briefly considered googling his name to see if any news outlets had a scoop before deciding against it. She almost made it to her kitchen before giving in and bringing up a search on her phone. No. Nothing. He’d gone radio-silent as per usual. As she suspected. Normally, it was quite impressive of him to go under the radar with such precision but now it was just inconsiderate. How dare he not make his whereabouts publicly known so Sarah could come up with a half-convenient lie as to why he and Shanna hadn’t seen each other. A comforting lie that could make herself feel better about the mess. 

 It would have made her feel so much better to know they were getting along again. Selfishly, it would have made it easier for her to leave knowing that they were finding their own way of getting back on track with one another. Sarah could imagine Lisa fretting to Scott and Carly at night, wondering how she could help her two most stubborn children become pals again. Sarah would rather she had been forgotten completely in favour of them piecing their relationship back together, for everyone’s sake. If there was one thing Sarah hated more than drama, it was knowing she was the root cause of the drama. Separating herself from the family now would be preferable than being made increasingly aware of the glaring hole setting up home in their house. A meteoric hole that she had been responsible for. A hole inside a family unit that had gotten through a lot in their forty-plus years together. A wonderful, loving, generous family that had taken Sarah in without question and had accepted her as one of their own just because Shanna had once said she was “pretty cool”. 

 No, Shanna did not deserve to be frozen out by her brother. Chris didn’t deserve to feel like he couldn’t speak to his baby sister. 

 * 

 Another day passed and Sarah didn’t feel much better. She did, however, feel momentarily relieved by Audrey’s personal admission that she had googled Chris a couple of times as well. Another sip of steaming hot coffee and she further admitted to having set him up on her Google Alerts “just in case”. 

 “For safety. I’m just looking out for you.” Audrey declared before smirking at her across the table. “I didn’t want you waking up one morning to photos of him draped over some starlet or whoever. And don’t think for one second that I will not come for anyone who dares to speak ill of you online. You are beautiful and kind and funny and sweet and absolutely good enough for him. I swear to God and he can quote me on this. Think of me as your own personal hype-woman.” 

 “Wow. Thank you. That’s a lot to take in but it’s very kind.” Sarah laughed nervously. “I think.” 

 “All I ask in return is dibs on designer dresses for the wedding.” Audrey winked at her as she left the staffroom. She didn’t catch neither the eye roll nor the middle finger Sarah proffered in return. 

 A few moments of quiet passed and Sarah pulled up Scott’s number on her phone. 

Sarah 10.45am: Is Shanna feeling any better? 

Scott 10.52am: So so. She’s terrible at being an ill person. I don’t know how you manage it xx 

 Sarah texted a laughing emoji back in response followed by a couple of red hearts. She’d give anything to “manage” an ill Shanna right now. 

 Scott 11.04am: But how are you??? We miss you Xx 

 Sarah could feel the tears forming at the back of her eyes. It had been a couple of days since she had last cried but as her departure flight loomed ever closer she was feeling it more and more. 

 Scott 11.08am: Seriously……… 

 Scott 11.09am: Please come see us soon. Mom is super worried about you and threatening to bring you her tiramisu 

 Scott 11.11am: don’t worry, I stopped her xx 

 She bit the inside of her lip a little too hard. 

 Scott 11.13am: but you owe me one. I had to eat half that thing xx 

 Chris loved tiramisu, she remembered. Maybe he was responsible for eating the other half. 

 It was no good. She was going to have to call him soon. Against the promise she’d made to herself about not thinking about him, it only served to keep her worrying about him more and more. 

 Sarah 11.20am: I know, I’m sorry. Tell her I’ll call her soon, I pormise xx 

 Sarah 11.21am: *promise 

 Scott 11.24am: not sure that’ll do much honeybun. You know what she’s like. Love you xx 

 She texted him a kiss emoji and felt relieved that he didn’t respond again. She pulled up Chris’ number and contemplated sending him a message. How would she even start? A simple “hey” was not going to cut it at this point, nor was a “how are you?”. Time was running out and as Ryan peered his head round the door to check on her, she shoved her phone back in her locker and left to finish off her day. 

 Sarah 15.58pm: Are you still alive? 

 She stayed staring at her phone for what felt like an eternity. Just before she resigned in disgust at her pitiful attempt at casual humour, she saw the tell-tale three dots appear at the bottom of her screen. They flickered for some time before stopping then starting again. She wasn’t sure if it was because he was composing some irate response at her pathetic joke or if he was deleting a message in favour of ignoring her altogether. She wasn’t sure which option she would prefer had she had the choice. 

 No response came through. She pulled a cup from the cupboard and set about making a small pot of coffee for herself. She still had a little time yet before she was due to leave for the airport and she had made plans to clean the place up a little before Shanna returned home, presumably a day or so later when she figured Sarah was safely out of the picture. 

 She picked up some daffodils and daisies on the way home from the hospital and separated the bunches between the living room, the kitchen and the hallway. She had visited two different grocery stores to find Shanna’s favourite flavour of ice cream and the fridge was stocked with some healthy veggies and yoghurt so she could make her breakfast smoothies in the morning. She also set about steam-mopping the hard floors so the clean, floral smell could spread through the entire apartment. It was a nice welcome home, she thought. She would appreciate it if someone had done the same for her. 

 Her phone started vibrating in the back pocket of her jeans as she folded the bedding that was fresh out of the dryer. She wasn’t altogether able to name the feeling she experienced at seeing Chris’ name flash on her screen alongside a photo of him smiling like the goof he was. A beautiful, sweet picture taken from Shanna’s birthday party three years previous. There was a time recently when she’d let it ring a little longer than was necessary just to allow herself the chance to stare at it for a few seconds more. But now was not one of those times. 

 “I genuinely didn’t think you were gonna answer me.” He said, his voice displaying the disbelief he was feeling. 

 “You would have kept ringing me otherwise.” It wasn’t an accusation as such, and he knew it. 

 “Yeh, probably. But I would have tried not to.” He said, matter-of-factly. “I’m not great with sussing women out but I figured you didn’t want to talk to me that much.” 

 She felt sad to hear him say it out loud even though it was true to an extent. He seemed submissive in some way. “Really?” She asked, more beseeching than she had intended. 

 He paused and she could hear him sigh. “Yeh, I would have. It would have been tough but I’ve thought about it a lot recently and I do have a little pride left, believe it or not.” She heard him straighten up and realised he’d been either lying on his couch or on his bed. “But you messaged me first. I’m kinda surprised to be honest.” 

 He wouldn’t be as surprised or impressed if she said it was just to check he hadn’t died in his sleep. She decided to keep that little tid-bit to herself. 

 “You’ve been quiet lately.” She said. “I mean, I thought...I don’t…” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I don’t actually know what I meant to be honest. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t haven’t contacted you out of the blue like this.” 

 “It’s fine. I’m glad you did.” Chris was feeling generous and decided to help her put out the fire. He knew she was panicking a little and no matter what else he was thinking right now, hearing her sound apprehensive wasn’t going to make him feel any better. 

 “I just wondered how you were doing, I suppose. I’ve been talking to Shan a little bit. Not a lot, not like we’re back to normal or anything but I wanted to check you were OK as well.” She tugged at the end of her sweater sleeve currently stretched between her fingers. “I haven’t really asked you that.” 

 He thought for a second. How was he feeling? He wasn’t sure he could give her an answer. He didn’t really know and he couldn’t make it sound half-positive even if he did. He had thrown himself into his work a lot more, much to the joy of Matt and some producers who had been trying to get his attention. When he wasn’t working out, he was reading scripts and when he wasn’t reading scripts, he was watching his diet. He had been very quiet on social media to an extent that someone in his PR team had taken to posting a couple of things on his behalf. Just two or three charity posts and something NASA-related to let his fans know he hadn’t completely disappeared. The team had notified him earlier that day that a cute dog video they had posted just 24 hours previous had gone viral and he had received more marriage proposals than usual as a result. 

 By now, he had learned how to fend off his mother and his brother. To be fair, it wasn’t all that hard to do with Scott. Scott had been understanding enough recently and he had the benefit of knowing when to shut up and let Chris go at his own pace. Pushing him was only going to have the opposite effect. More than once, he found himself wondering if Scott had spoken to Sarah. When he tried to hint around the situation to see if that had in fact been true, Scott had shut him down just as quickly. He didn’t mind that all too much. He appreciated Scott’s discretion and no doubt Sarah needed him just as much as he did. 

 “I’m alright, Bernette.” He said. “You know, fine.” 

 “Fine?” 

 “Yeh. Just fine. Nothing more.” He said. He didn’t much care about sugar-coating things but maybe that was out of a little tiredness and boredom. They were way past protecting each other from the other person’s feelings at this point. 

 “Anyway,” he shook his head. “What about you? How’s things with O’Brien?” 

 “Oh y’know. Yeh, fine, I guess.” She replied. “How did you know there was any issue with O’Brien?” 

 “You gotta love that Audrey.” He chuckled. 

 O’Brien had come under fire last week for yelling at a couple of interns and one of them, unbeknown to anyone else, happened to be the niece of a local congressman. Rumours were circling but Sarah and in fact most of her team had no time to pay attention to anything going on above their heads. That’s the thing with medical emergencies, you see: they never stop just because somebody’s job is on the line. 

 “Right.” She said. “What else has she said?” 

 “Nothing much.” He said. “She said you were worried about me.” There was a smugness that she decided to gloss over. Why was Sarah so surprised they had been talking about her behind her back? Why was she surprised that they had each other’s phone numbers? 

 “And you didn’t think to get in touch?” 

 “I thought you didn’t want to talk to me.” 

 Sarah chewed her bottom lip. If he could only see her now. He’d get a kick out of it for sure. 

 “Alright. Fair enough.” She sighed. “You’re OK. Good to know. I’ll let you get on with whatever you’re up to.” 

 “Is that it? That’s all you wanted to say to me?” 

 “Apparently Audrey has been filling you in.” 

 “Oh fucking-” He stopped himself. “You cannot be mad about this, surely. Listen, all she said was that you weren’t sure if I was OK because you thought I hadn’t been in touch with the guys. That’s all. She was doing the very thing you should have done yourself.” 

 She paused and swallowed. “Right.” 

 “Come on, Sarah. She thought she was helping. She’s just being a good friend.” He pinched the skin on his forehead between his thumb and forefinger. “And it was like yesterday or whenever. It’s not like we’ve been in touch constantly and talking about you all the time. She hasn’t said anything about how much you’re in love with me or how you can’t sleep for thinking about me.” 

 “What?!” 

 “It was a joke.” He deadpanned. 

 “Oh.” She said. 

 His heart sank – it wasn’t that much of a joke, he had hoped. He slid his hand down his face in frustration, pinching his nose slightly before leaning back on his sofa and staring up at the ceiling. He held his phone tightly to his ear and waited for her to speak. 

 “It’s OK.” She finally spoke. “I get it. I shouldn’t have been so distant these past few days. I’m sorry, Chris.” 

 He certainly wasn’t expecting that apology but he could roll with it. “This isn’t all on you, Sarah. I could have been in touch more, too. With everybody, I guess. I had a couple of meetings I had to prepare for so I think I just took that as an excuse not to be more present.” 

 “Anything fun?” She asked, taking the opportunity to change the subject. 

 “Kind of. Nothing massive. It’s an ensemble piece that a director wanted to talk to me about. It actually sounds pretty cool.” He scratched the side of his beard in contemplation. “It’s your cup of tea for sure. You like those murder-mystery-type films, right?” 

 “Oh yeh! Like Agatha Christie and Poirot? Love them.” 

 “I thought so. It’s a great script and I get some funny lines for a change. It’s something a little different and Matt keeps telling me that I need to think outside of the Marvel box, so…we’ll see how it goes.” He could feel himself growing a little more enthusiastic at the prospect of doing the movie. He should probably call Matt and tell him the same thing. He sounded like he was having a rough day so a contrite and grateful actor would cheer him up no end. 

“Anyway, that’s about it. I’m kinda bored to be honest. Have you eaten yet today?” 

 She had all but emptied the fridge last night to remove anything that might go off in the next couple of days. Now it was filled with some of Shanna’s favourite things and there wasn’t anything in it that really appealed to her at this moment in time. She hadn’t thought much about food all day to tell the truth. She figured she’d grab a bagel while waiting for her flight. 

 “Um, no.” She said. “But I’m not that hungry either.” 

 “You don’t want waffles? With white chocolate? Raspberries?” 

 She did want that now he mentioned it. “No, I’m good.” 

 “That’s a lie.” 

 “It is not a lie.” Even she knew she wasn’t being convincing. 

 “Everybody wants waffles.” He implored. “It’s God’s way of saying he wants you to be happy. Come on, it’s my treat.” 

 “I just think…we probably shouldn’t see each other for a while.” She looked down the hall at the packed bags currently leaning against her bedroom door. 

 “It’s waffles, Sarah. I think I can control myself.” 

 “Um…” 

 “That’s good enough for me. See you in twenty.” 

 He hung up before she could respond. With no opportunity to persuade him otherwise, she stayed put in her kitchen, waiting for waffles. 

 * 

 “Hi.” 

 “Hi,” She smiled at him openly and saw his shoulders relax. Without prompting, he walked in past her and placed the take-out boxes on the counter. They were the size of pizza boxes and she felt her tummy rumble in anticipation. 

 “So, I’ve been thinking.” He started as he turned to face her again. 

 “In the few minutes since we last talked?” She spoke in jest. 

 “Hush, Bernette.” He eye-rolled. “I’ll have you know, I’ve been thinking very seriously these past few days and I know it’s tough right now but just hear me out, OK? Because I think I know a way to make things a little easier. Maybe if you get some time off from work, get some time away from everything, from Boston perhaps, it could actually make things a little better for the both of us. For everyone. I’ve been trying to think about things in a different way and not in my usual blinkered view or whatever the fuck Scott says I have, and I honestly think I’m seeing things a little clearer now, and…” 

 He glanced away from her face for only a split second but it was enough for him to visibly shrink a little in his stance before her eyes. Sarah followed his eyeline to the bags currently resting down the hall. The angle of the suitcase was hiding the other bags behind it but if he shifted a mere foot forward, he could possibly get the full picture. 

 Turning back to look at her, he furrowed his brow in confusion. “What’s going on?” 

 Sarah visibly swallowed and he knew the answer before she even opened her mouth. He became all too aware of her hands and arms hanging limply at her sides. 

 “I’m going to see my parents for a few days.” 

 “A few days? That’s a lot for a few days, Sarah. You normally travel light.” 

 “I just packed for a little longer ‘cos I wasn’t sure what I was going to-” 

 Chris didn’t give her time to bend the truth. He turned and walked back into the kitchen. She watched him move to the window before looking down at his feet and shaking his head in frustration. He rubbed a hand solidly over his beard. “You’re leaving.” 

 “Well, yeh, I’m going to see my parents and the two usually go hand in hand.” 

 “Oh, fuck off, Sarah.” He spat. “Don’t get smart with me. You’re doing a runner. This looks like a fucking cop-out.” 

 “No, you’re wrong. It’s not a cop-out and I don’t appreciate that tone either. If I was doing a runner, do you think I would do it in broad daylight and tell everyone what I was doing? I literally just told you where I was going.” She retorted. 

 She grabbed the last bottle of water from the fridge. She wasn’t particularly thirsty at that moment in time but she knew that he would eventually want it and she didn’t much feel like being accommodating right now especially not to a man who was calling her out in her own home. That he was entirely accurate in his assumptions was, well, irrelevant. 

 “How long are you really going for?” He asked as he watched her disappear from view and back down the hall to her bedroom. 

 “I just told you. A few days, maybe a week or so, and then I’ll figure it out from there.” 

 “Figure what out?” 

 “Just…” She turned back to face him, waving her hand vaguely in front of her in the vain hope he would suddenly understand everything she was trying to say. Either he did and didn’t want to give her an easy “out” or, most likely, he had zero clue because neither did she. Giving up, her shoulders slumped from their squared-off position just seconds ago when she was trying to give the impression of strength. “It’s just a lot, all of this, and I need some time out.” 

 He took another couple of small steps towards her before stopping by her bags. Looking down, he could see her intentions as clear as day now but as he looked back into her eyes, he could see her exhaustion ever clearer. They should be on the same side. He shouldn’t be picking on her this way. 

 “You just said I could do with a break, right?” She shrugged. “So, this is what I’m doing. You should be pleased. You could even say I’m taking your advice if you wanted to.” 

 “Yeh, but I actually meant taking a break together.” He conceded. “I came here to say I thought we could go to L.A. for a little while. I need to check on a couple of work things and I thought you could come with me. Nothing funny, I promise. Some proper sunshine might be cool, right?” 

 Sarah was struck by the kind gesture and the glint of hope now showing in his eyes. Despite what they had both said, he clearly hadn’t lost the small possibility that maybe they could try and forge something out of the ruins and, under different circumstances, she might have been tempted. 

 “Thanks for thinking of me.” She offered, merely giving him a small smile. It didn’t seem like there was much else to say. The bags were packed and now that he could take in his surroundings, it felt a little emptier somehow and like it had all been wiped clean. Except he didn’t feel so clean. He could feel her on him, on his skin and in his head, and he doubted he could remove her as easily as she was clearly hoping she could remove him. 

 “Do you think you’ll let us know when you come back?” he asked. 

 She looked passed him and down the hall, focussing on nothing in particular. “Yes, of course I’ll let you guys know. I’m not going forever.” 

She tried her best to convince him but she knew it wasn’t going to do much. 

 “I know that,” he sighed. “but it’ll be weird not seeing you every day. It’ll be sad. I’ll be sad about it.” 

 He let out a deep breath and shuffled his feet awkwardly as he tried to think of something to say that might drag things out a little more, that might cause her to rethink her plans. It was one of the more frustrating things about her, that she could keep a secret so well. He briefly wondered if he could think of some more frustrating things about her that might help him cope with the current situation but no. Who was he kidding? 

 “I like this apartment.” He finally offered. “Some good memories.” 

 “You know that Shanna will still be here, right?” She chuckled. 

 “But you won’t be.” He said. “And between you and me? You’re kind of my favourite.” 

 “I won’t tell Scott you just said that.” 

 “He knows already. I wouldn’t worry about it.” He said. “Hey, do you think I could come and visit you?” 

 “Um-” 

 “-Just think about it. You don’t need to answer right now. It’s been ages since I’ve been to Maine and I hear they have amazing seafood.” 

 Sarah laughed again and regarded him like the small puppy he so obviously was. A small puppy that she realised she had been kicking ever-so-slowly over the past few weeks and it made her feel like shit. As much as she tried to convince herself otherwise, she knew she was running away and she knew she was a coward. 

 “I am sorry, Chris. For everything. I can’t really explain it in a way that means anything right now but I just wanted to say it clearly one more time to you in case I hadn’t really said it before.” 

 Chris held his hand up to stop her from saying anything more. He didn’t need an apology from her. Hearing her apologise only made him feel worse. Of the multiple times she had been caught under his gaze, nothing was quite like the way he was looking at her now. 

 “Sarah,” he started. “I need you to know that whatever it is you want from me, I’ll never say no.” 

 “Chris, I-” 

 “-Honestly, that’s….that’s the only thing I really wanted to say.” He held his hand up again to stop her if she was thinking of interrupting him again. “I’m gonna go and I hope you have a safe trip, OK? Enjoy your waffle. Maybe send me a text or something, let me know you made it there in one piece. If you want to. Maybe we’ll see each other again sooner rather than later.” 

 She saw his eyes glance behind her and into her bedroom. He turned and glanced once more into the bathroom like he was taking a mental picture of the place which seemed crazy to her until she remembered that he wasn’t strictly talking to Shanna and it was unlikely he’d be back here anytime soon. God, she hoped they’d fix things. She needed to at least believe her leaving would make things a little better for them. Otherwise, what would be the point? 

 * 

 They didn’t say goodbye in the typical sense or any kind of sense, really. She was almost relieved to watch him walk away quietly without looking back and equally as relieved to have made it to the airport without much more fuss. 

 Like it was said, she was a coward. 

 Audrey had called her to wish her a safe journey and then spent fifteen minutes complaining about O’Brien and a patient who had taken to calling her “princess”. Sarah was glad of the distraction as she made her way through the airport towards the waiting lounge. It was pretty busy for the time of evening but she was glad to feel invisible once again as she moved through the heavy criss-crossing crowds of people, each with their own issues to deal with. Something about strength in numbers perhaps. A couple more hours and she’d be home again. A couple more hours and Jocelyn could stop texting her messages that made little sense. 

 Oh God. 

 Living with her mother again was going to try her patience. Maybe this was the price she had to bear? It wasn’t too late to change her mind, Audrey had said before pleading in a half-joking, half-serious manner that surely, she wasn’t going to leave her to handle the hospital by herself? It was almost like she was expecting never to see Sarah again. A few weeks. That was all it was going to be. Then she’d figure out what to do from there, with a break and some fresh Maine-air to clear the cobwebs. Chris was right about the seafood and the closer she got to her departure time, the more she started looking forward to it. She was sure she was making the right decision. 

 Chris 19.46pm: Don’t forget about us xx 

 She was sure she was making the right decision. 

 It was 100% the right decision. 

 Right?

*

[hey-hamlet]

BNHA AU Ideas: Songbird, Part 2

Also on AO3! 

Link to Part 1 

TL;DR: 

Izuku has a powerful quirk: he can give powers to the people around him based on the different songs he sings. Unfortunately, everyone else really wants that quirk and are willing to kidnap him to get it. 

Songbirds sing even when the music stops.

Hello I’m redefining Izuku’s quirk for the sake of more dramatic powers: Most songs are general power-ups (everyone in auditory range), others are personal power-ups (only the person singing). Both only affect those who hear them, unless the effect is 100% intrinsic. Izuku uses a lot of general power-ups because he’s helpful like that. Each song can only be used once per day.

Examples: A song that creates a forcefield will only be a barrier to those who hear it, but a strength increase is a strength increase no matter which way you slice it.

anyway! day 1 of class is ok bc izuku and bakugo head to school together, and its honestly a miracle he didn't get kidnapped again

anyway, he meets iida and is fucking floored when he apologises for yelling at him. uraraka calls him the "boy with the singing quirk" and hes pretty happy. bakugo is grudgingly pleased izuku has friends and sits down, izuku following suit. shinsou is half asleep at his desk and seems to have been there the whole time

aizawa does his little spiel, quirk assessment happens yadda-yadda. izuku looks so chill on the outside but the kid is freaking the fuck out internally

he's coming second in the test, aizawa still erases his quirk, more of an example to the class because he assumed izuku wouldnt lose his shit. he didn't - at least externally

from this we also find out izuku has a kind of internal metronome because he suddenly has no internal 'beat' when his quirk is erased. his hearing gets substantially worse too.

which serves to freak him the fuck out because he feels off balance and like hes had cotton stuffed in his ears

anyway, yeets the ball, all is good, bakugo glares fucking daggers at aizawa for singling out izuku and izuku tries not to dissociate

battle trial is nothing special, but bakugo just fucking,,, turns his hearing aids off so izukus quirk doesnt work on him

its a blessing and a curse because it leaves izuku free to use most personal powerups, but honestly bakugo wants a nice fight more than he wants to win so thats fine with him

izuku wins, but only just, izuku gives uraraka a speed up through the comm link, iida who was Not ready for that, loses

USJ

Bakugo and Izuku sing Stronger than You and kick ass for a solid while before the song runs out and the nomu hits them into the lake. Izuku, with a broken leg and the beginnings of a concussion, has to drag a semi-conscious Bakugo to shore and let me tell you they both almost drown like 8 times. Izuku helps All Might by singing Anything (Hedly), which functions honestly like a big Ol’ Plus Ultra to anyone believing in what they are doing. (It starts working on Shigiraki after the Stain arc, but before then he was acting without purpose)

Sports festival!

All Might and Izuku are basically dad and son in this universe too, so, despite the dissimilar quirks, Todoroki still calls out Izuku to fight. Because Todoroki is the son of Endeavour and privy to a little more heroics insider info than he really should be, he also knows how often Izuku deals with villains. In an attempt to piss off the eternally nice and collected boy enough to give him a fight he can piss off Endeavour with, he calls him a damsel in distress.

Izuku is fuming and Bakugo has to basically hold onto his forearm to stop him from clocking Todoroki right in the jaw, but lord is Bakugo also pissed. Todoroki, for a second, realises he may have fucked up.

Todoroki wins the first event, Izuku is pretty middling. Like he's top 10? But he didn’t make a major impact. But the guy sees Monoma and gets an Idea

“HI SO – I know you hate class 1A, and really there is something to be said for the way our school is trying to pit 2 classes of children against each other like a bitter blood feud - BUT I have an idea that could be 100% ridiculous and if you want 1B to make an impact, please work with me. I need to shove something in Todoroki’s face.”

“… I’m listening.”

The general idea is Izuku’s songs have a different effect when sung in a duet, some are only practical in duet form: IE, stronger than you is a dodge boost alone, but in a duet is a massive power boost to the two singing it. So what if two people with Izuku’s quirk sung a duet? Chaos, probably.

Monoma agrees because one of the only things he likes more than 1 upping 1A is quirk based tomfoolery. The team ends up consisting of Izuku, Monoma, Kendo and Uraraka. Kendo and Uraraka, with the use of Uraraka’s quirk, carry both Izuku and Monoma – the better you sing, the better the quirk works.

Its lucky Monoma knows most of the songs Izuku brings up as ideas, and adds some suggestions of his own. If the other two know the song it's not a bad idea to join in, but its not the end of the world if they don’t.

The list of songs they have on standby and their effect when sung by two people with the Songbird Quirk

Two Player Game - Be More Chill: It forms both a connection between the people singing it, allowing them to anticipate the other's movements and creates a semi-translucent double of each singer that mimics their movements with a half second delay, aka: each punch you throw hits twice.

Family – Mother Mother: Creates a kinda forcefield that hovers just above the body. The stronger the bond between the singers, the stronger the shield – good thing Uraraka and Kendo know that one.

Hurry Hurry – Airtraffic Controllers: Slows down your perception of time, giving the appearance of superhuman reflexes. With the addition of a partner, it also grants superspeed.

We don’t get tired, we get even – Pat the Bunny: The more energy you’ve used up, the more energy you get back when singing this song + a proportional increase in general ability.

Doubt Comes In – Hadestown: Anyone who hears it quickly loses the ability to fight other people, including the singers.

The Greatest Show – The Greatest Showman: In addition to the normal effect of drawing attention to the point you can’t look away, singers get a ‘moon jump’ ability.

Turn the Lights Off – Tally Hall: Makes the area pitch black and gives the singers monstrous forms with plenty of claws and eyes.

How they use these is up to your imagination, but they end having taken the 10’000’000 point band from Todoroki. Bakugo, the only person with a decent understanding of Izuku’s quirk, just turned off his hearing aids and told his team to block their ears when weird shit started to happen. They came second, Todoroki third and Shinsou’s team fourth.

Uraraka gets to the second round bc Bakugo fights Monoma in the first round and jesus that fight is hilarious because its just Monoma – while using Bakugo’s quirk too – insisting that Izuku has abandoned class 1A for class 1B and Bakugo getting progressively more done with this boy’s shit.

Izuku and Bakugo + Todoroki and Iida are the semi finalists. Izuku and Bakugo are mostly just like “Thank fuck I’ve been talking to so many god damn weirdos today please can we just have a normal fight”. Izuku wins, j u u s t. (Izuku and Bakugo have a pretty 50/50 win loss ratio going on in this AU)

Todoroki vs Izuku is the final round of the whole thing, Todoroki told him about Endeavour, Izuku is pissed that no one looks at him and sees him, they only see his quirk (other than like, 6 people at this point). So he gets where Todoroki is coming from but holy shit hes doing literally just that. The main song Izuku uses for that round is Escapism – Steven Universe which makes him intangible (other than like his feet so he doesn’t go through the floor like Mirio). He’s trying to get the vibe across to Todoroki that he is free of his blood. He stops singing just to scream that at him, which is really what loses him the round. He's not intangible anymore, so he has no way to dodge the fire that comes at him. But he's pretty happy anyway.

Stain Arc!

Izuku’s hero name is Lyre!

Izuku doesn’t intern with Gran, but he does visit the guy with him. All Might hasn’t given his quirk to anyone else because the only suitable person he can see is Izuku, but Izuku basically can’t say no to him so he’s having a crisis. Izuku just thinks he’s there to visit All Mights old mentor and shoot the shit, which is really what they do.

Gran basically just ends up telling him “Kid aint a wallflower, he’ll tell you to fuck off if he doesn’t want it. All Might decides to ask Izuku about it after everything is over.

Izuku ends up interning with Endeavour, along with Todoroki. He never ended up yelling at endeavour, even though he hates the guy. Shouto encouraged him to take the offer bc, 1, Endeavour literally never gives out internship offers and 2, it’d be more fun because that way he doesn’t need to deal with his dad’s bullshit alone.

Endeavour is like “Oh it’s the kidnap kid, your quirk is neat.” And izuku is smiling through gritted teeth like “Th Anks SiRr”

So, starts pretty normal, then the winged Nomu steals Izuku right off the ground. Izuku just says “I’ll be fine! Just keep doing what you're doing, I’ll get myself down.” Endeavour just shrugs like “Ok, I give you permission to defend yourself.” While Todoroki is screaming internally because his new friend is literally being flown away

So the Nomu that was once a really good friend of Izuku’s (not that izuku is aware of that) literally just dumps him somewhere else and leaves. Izuku is confused, really confused, so he starts walking his way back to where he was before he hears a familiar voice.

Guess who it’s Iida, with a serial killer standing right over him. Izuku panics and goes straight into Turn the Lights Off. Without Monoma it only makes it dark, but it’ll have to do.

Thing is: he has a key problem. By virtue of the fact he’s singing, Stain can always hear him. Izuku’s only advantage is that he can see Stain but stain can’t see him, and the darkness means Stain moves more cautiously.

Anyway, in the artificial darkness, he can send a longer text anyway.

Midoriya [7:31PM] stain – [Location Pin Dropped]

So a lot of people, All Might and Aizawa included, f r e a k o u t. Todoroki goes running, Endeavour sends sidekicks with him because he saw his son, normally deadpan, almost chocking on panic as he mutters “Midoriya found Stain.”

Endeavour very much wants to also get Stain but the Nomu are Very Pressing Right Now, so there isn’t much he can do other than try and hurry the fuck up. Torino is kicking around because he could mostly, trying to get a glimpse of All Might’s kid in action, ends up having to kick villain ass. He's not that concerned until he remembers “OH SHIT TOSHI’S BOY”. When he finds Endeavour the man, a little panicked for Endeavour’s standards, yells at him to go to the address bc his son and intern are fighting the fucking hero killer.

Gran Doesn’t think he’s moved so fast since he kicked All for One in the face with Nana 25 odd years ago.

So Stain is kinda pissed bc suddenly he can’t see and someone is singing. He goes to stab Iida but,,, he ain't there anymore, and the singing is fading away. He figures “oh well, lemme get native” the singing changes to a different song. Very quickly he can see, but the singing boy, still singing is rocketing towards him and rapidly changing form.

Monster – dodie: Literally shifts Izuku into a monster. Stain suddenly realises that this is Songbird, talk of the underground, most wanted quirk by villains and quirk traffickers everywhere. This kid, target of villains everywhere, has put himself in their sights just to try and help people.

He thinks maybe Songbird might be one of the good ones.

Oh, an aside? People calling him Songbird sets off hella panic attacks because the only people who do that are people actively trying to kidnap him. And that’s what stain is calling him.

His monster form wavers and he tries to sing through tears and hitching breaths and Stain smiles because he's still curled around Native with his claws out.

Todoroki gets there first and helps defend Iida, Izuku is fighting to keep stain away from Native. The pros are on the way, Izuku is fading fast. Endeavour has been training them hard so he's exhausted and freaking the fuck out, while someone waves swords in his face.

Stain gets him, he loses the monster form. This doesn’t help Izuku’s panic, because now he can’t move and he’s felt this before along with grabbing hands, and dark vans and ropes around his wrists praying someone knew where he was going so someone might know to come for him when he doesn’t get home.

Todoroki sees that and he doesn’t know what to do. Izuku is panicking – the boy who seemed so put together and on top of things s falling apart at the seams. Iida feels horrible. He just wants to go to his friend he's never seen that distraught before.

Todoroki does the only thing he can think of. He sings.

He was never into music before, be after the sports festival he learnt Escapism -the song Izuku sang to him – and singing it back to him is the only thing he can think of doing.

It helps. It really helps, because if there was one thing that never happened when Izuku was taken – it was singing. He calms down just enough to breathe, which is all he needs to do.

The quirk wears off and Izuku throws himself at Stain, the words to Thunder by Imagine Dragons already pouring from his lips and electricity pouring from himself. If Stain touches him, he's toast, even if its via a sword. Izuku just has to avoid thrown weapons.

Izuku gets a hit, the quirk wears off Iida, who rushes in to stop Izuku from taking a throwing knife to the arm. The three of them knock out Stain just as the heroes skid into the alley. Izuku lets out a sob and crumples to the ground, Iida and Todoroki rushing over to him. They both honestly look like they’d bite anyone who got too close. Gran calls All Might who starts hightailing his way over there – Aizawa is also breaking a few traffic laws to reach his pack of injured kids.

They don’t get there in time. Shirigaki, furious that the hero killer went against him, orders Kurogiri to get Izuku. They take Iida and Todoroki for good measure. The heroes watch in horror as the children they were meant to protect vanish under their noses.

Headlines the next day: “UA sports festival finalists defeat Hero Killer – only to be taken by Villains seconds later.”

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S4 Ep 23: Roland Freaks Out for 25 Straight Minutes

Oh man, took a break from the blog for a bit there because I gave myself a project to do that is 160ish color panels to draw by June 30th and um...it takes a while to do that, it turns out. Every time I’m like “wow I actually have enough time to make a buffer for the blog” I get so distracted.

But anyways, I started having some issues with my wacom tablet, my mouse is a nightmare, and so...I’m just gonna look the other way and write a recap and unplug all of the wacom stuff and just stay the hell away from whatever happened to that...tablet.

maybe It’ll be fine tomorrow?

*sweats nervously*

Thank God I didn’t buy a cintique, that’s all I’ll say. 

Anyway, lets go back to Yugioh. Where were we?

That’s right. Mokuba is checking in with my favorite Kaiba, Roland, who is currently just trying to keep the company running while the official Kaibas are flying to California.

And I’ll be honest, as I was typing this I thought “and why are they going to California again?” and it took me like...10 minutes to remember that Seto dropped absolutely everything and jumped on this massive plane in order to beat Rafael at cards to win the title “King of Games” which...Yugi had already lost to Rebecca about 2 years ago prior, but don’t tell that to Seto. Or Rebecca.

Also don’t tell Seto that the “King of Games” title originally comes from being possessed by a very emo ghost that has a tendency to set people on fire with Russian whiskey and has nothing to do with whatever shenanigans went down with Pegasus.

Honestly, I like to think that in the modern version of this show, Pegasus threw the “King of Games” line out there as like a corny joke, and when the teenagers started latching onto it like it was real, he was like “Oh what?” and left it alone because he just got his left eye ripped out of his face and was very distracted by the large amount of cultists in his basement that he suddenly needed to let go.

But youknow it’s the end of the world, Kaiba’s company is being bought out by a competitor, one of Dartz’ assassins are trying to kill both him and his brother, but he has to go to California immediately to play Rafael while he has the chance. Not sure how Alister got the tip-off that Kaiba would be flying back to California so quickly, but knowing the Kaibas, they probably jump on a plane several times a week.

I’m just still baffled that Mokuba’s doing this over a cell phone. That he was like “I better call someone.” and instead of calling the Airline or the Coastguard he’s like “I’ll call Roland💗”

I’m pretty sure Roland saw that phone ringing with Mokuba in the callerID and was like “NO NO NO NO NO”

(read more under the cut)

Luckily for Roland, everyone at Kaiba corp has to learn how to fly planes in order to pass the entry exam.

For reals though, that plane just casually bumped off a mountain like it’s in Diddy Kong Racing.

There’s a lot of levels of brother’s saving brothers in this episode. You have Seto who thinks he’s saving Mokuba, but in fact it is Mokuba saving Seto by keeping this plane afloat. And then in reality, you can take another brother step backward and say it was Roland who was saving Mokuba who was saving Seto by giving the phone to that rando, and take even another step backward and say it was this Random Guy who was saving Roland who was saving Mokuba who was saving Seto.

So in reality, no brothers were really able to save eachother, it was actually that one secretary at the desk who screamed “JUST PULL THE LEVER HARDER, I DUNNO” until it worked.

But just remember that the theme of this episode is brothers saving brothers, although Mokuba is too small to really fly this plane, and Seto is too crazy to stop this duel and Roland is not really the secret inept heir of the Kaiba bloodline, and only in my little headcanon.

And also, I just have no idea who that random secretary is.

Anyways, Alister made this thing happen on the field.

Hey guys?

How many guns do you need on a tank?

Like I...

That is a hilarious amount of guns on this tank.

Like every character designer part of me is dying right now. It’s when you’re learning Maya, and you finally figure out the duplicate tool, and you just--you just strap a billion guns on a spaceship. We’ve all done this.

But like...this gunship has a face, and that face has it’s own tiny Oricalchos.

All I’m saying is that Alister is having a hell of a time in his Maya 101 class he takes at the local community college when he’s not busy working for Kaiba Corp Airlines or busy killing people for Dartz. I want to know what grade he got on this project, because in my Maya classes the only people who were this dedicated were building weird ass warships for their games or building intense 3D My Little Pony fanfic.

Here’s a list I can think of from the top of my head of challenges Seto Kaiba either quit or completely failed outright (basically the times Seto has NOPEd out or been forcibly kicked out):

-Joey Wheeler’s many challenges and also Spanish Class (as mentioned above)

-Beating Yugi in a card game

-Not joining Pegasus’ tourney initially so he could go on a vacation.

-We’ll just assume he’s only taken like a bunch of random college classes but only got an honorary degree

-Chess (like he was a Grand Master at one point but wtv, cards exist now)

-Didn’t arrest the Big Five or remove them from his mmo so they freakin died in there.

-Being the actual owner of the Millennium Rod

-Every time Yami tells him that they should be friends

-That whole story line where he was dating a dragon in a past life

-fulfilling that prophecy of killing Yami in the present timeline to end the world

-attempting to blow up his own battle city tournament before it was over because he didn’t win

-Getting all 3 Godcards

-When a possessed Tristan appeared over a mountain top to duel everyone and Seto just went “I’m out” and simply walked away

-Flying a blimp from point A to point B without it setting on fire

-Getting his Dad to build an amusement park

-Just anything to do with Noah

-the existence of magic in general

-every attempt he’s had to rebrand Kaiba Corp as “funtime games inc I swear we don't make tanks anymore, stop looking at all the tanks”

-Seto Kaiba’s entire Destiny storyline this season that he has gone way out of his way to get away from.

And like I’m sure there’s more, but I feel like half of Kaiba’s MO is that he is either Too Good To Bother With This or he has Lost Everything Very Dramatically. Mokuba at least has the right idea, by being one of the few people who has beaten Yugi Muto by peacing out halfway through the duel and stealing all Yugi’s stuff off of Yugi’s side of the table.

Anyway, despite it being like...5 seconds since we saw Roland in a weird cyber room in what I assume was Japan, we now see him with his head pressed against the glass of this helicopter being like “BOYS NO NOT AGAIN WHY”

And youknow, Roland was just trying to do the right thing, but he accidentally made things a million times worse by just showing up.

And so Alister was like “well I better crash the plane now with this gust of green energy that destroys all mechanical equipment.”

Really not sure how Alister was planning to leave this plane after this duel was over. I don’t know if he thinks that far ahead.

this isn’t even a joke I made up, Roland really did run up to the pilot and was like “Just throw down some ladders! That should work!” and it’s like...Do you not see the giant ship covered in a thousand guns right now, Roland?

And then Alister and Seto decide to have a fight about ethics where they’re both pretty wrong.

I mean it’s not the exact line but yes this is basically what Seto said, point blank, and I was like “well...at least he owns it.”

So cards happen, dragons get played (so MANY dragons) and because we had to end this arc, Alister loses the duel as we kind of knew he would.

And then Mokuba, because he knows no other life, sees an asshole older brother in pain and just wants to adopt him.

Enjoy that trauma tossed onto your already megalith sized trauma pile, Mokuba.

Elsewhere, the legendary dragons have started syncing again, which is a weird thing that they can do that none of these guys have any control of.

Mostly it just irritates whoever is holding these cards at the time.

But behold! the glory!

The glory of three tubby dragons wielding a plane!

It’s what Kaiba always wanted but he had absolutely no idea he was doing it. Will anyone tell him that he managed to summon three dragons to fly him around the sky like a mamma bird? No. No one bothers to tell him that his wildest dreams just came true.

FYI There were other stills of more of the dragons and the plane, but I kept pausing on instances where it kinda looked like they were humping the plane so I gave up.

But, at least we all get to meet up, around the smoke coming out the back of this giant plane that now...will just sit here...until someone sues KaibaCorp over it, I guess.

Like a soccermom, now Roland gets to give the whole frenemy crew a ride with...copters or whatever.

I dont’ know how Roland got here, y’all.

This happens a lot with animated shows, youknow, there’s a lot of plot threads, a lot of scenes and episodes that get freelanced out and outsourced, and people who make these shows aren’t working on the whole thing at once, they’re just going off of director notes--so there’s a good chance they had no idea that Roland...just shouldn’t be here.

But it’s OK, I enjoy whenever Roland is panicking in the background. He’s good set dressing.

Seto does not give any more explanation of this corpse.

And then, sprinting as fast as he could out of his copter comes Roland, who does what Roland does best. It’s this moment where you would usually see a parental figure reveal how much they care and adore their little children. But because it’s Roland, and these are the Kaibas, he instead takes this moment to reveal exactly how inept he is at the very last second.

Never change, Roland. I love this massive green haired disappointment.

Anyway, I’m not sure when I’ll get the next update out, since I’ll be knee deep in drawing art I don’t need to draw, but just know I’m not dead. Usually I post fanart or whatever, but all I have is this Dartz I started drawing but he just has so much hair that I don’t think that one will ever get even remotely finished.

But anyway, if you just got here, this is a link to read these from the start.

[skanksammy]

Note Passing || Fabrevans

TAGGING: Quinn Fabray & Sam Evans WHEN: March 23rd WHERE: Florida GENERAL NOTES: Sam & Quinn pass notes during the safety seminar WARNINGS: None

Quinn: This seminar was incredibly boring, and Quinn has sat in law lectures, so she knows boring. This is beyond that. Bored out of her mind, and not wanting to disrupt the class, she tears out a little sheet of paper from her notebook before scribbling: ‘ Who are you rooming with? I might need to sleep in your bathtub.’

Sam: Sam was in his own little world, his eyes completely unfocused as he drowned out the seminar with the imaginary world that lived inside of his head. His eyes were just about to close for a small boredom nap when he felt movement beside him. Opening his eyes and looking at Quinn, Sam noticed the note and grinned. ‘ Ryder! Did they forget to get u a room? U can have my bed - from Sammy.’

Quinn: She should feel bad about clearly interrupting Sam, but she’s bored and he smiled like that at her, so she doesn’t. Plus, what are friends for if not to suffer with you. ‘ I wouldn't take your bed. I have a room of my own, its just with Brittany, and she kinda.. scares me.’ She debates crossing it out, hovering over the word for a moment, ‘It'll be fine, right? Tell me I wont die. -You don't need to sign your name.’

Sam: Sams eyes widened when he read the note, looking up at Quinn’s face as she wrote. He hoped that she knew that if she needed it, he would be more than happy to give her his bed. Sam would give her anything she needed. ‘ Idk she’s super scary and gives me wedgies but she’s allowed cause we’re related and stuff. I’m sure u will be ok. She’s not allowed to hurt ppl. Plus u are insane beautiful so !!! - sa-’ Sam stopped himself from signing his name, scribbling it out and adding a kiss instead

Quinn: Another glance up, and the guy was still droning on. Had he even noticed the group in the centre actively drinking in the seminar? Her attention was caught again by the little note being pushed into her peripheral. ‘ Sam! She shouldn’t be doing that to you. Being related to you isn’t an excuse. And now I’m worried about wedgies. Great. I don’t think being beautiful will save me, but thank you.’ She added a little heart to the end to punctuate her reply.

Sam: Note passing was one of the many things on his list of most favorite things. It was even higher up than text messaging. This boring seminar was made that much better by Quinn. ‘ I can’t tell her no.. she might eat me. Like a black widow spider. It might! It works in the scary movies! Just show her some skin.’ After adding two hearts, Sam chuckled a little when he passed the note back, thinking he was the most hilarious person in the room

Quinn: ‘I'm going to become a slut so that I don't get murdered by a skank. This trip is looking SO great for me. She doodled a little grumpy face, If I'm going to reduce myself to this, do you want me to ask her to stop with the wedgies?’ She couldn't believe she was actually considering this, and she started passing the note back, before reconsidering, and grabbing it back, adding ‘We need to drink- and soon, so I can pretend none of this exists.’ and then actually passing it to Sam.

Sam: Sam let his hand hang in the air, waiting for Quinn to add whatever it was that she was adding. The smile on his face had still yet to falter and he was sure he was having the best time out of everyone in that seminar. ‘ You are LITERALLY the smartest person in america. I know that I would also do anything for a lady who wants to show me her ta tas. But that sounds like a plan, Batman! I bet we could find some kinda awesome bar somewhere. Or maybe a gay bar where they have those go go dancers. That's SUPER Florida vibes.’ 

Quinn: Sam's goofy grin made a lot of things in Quinns life easier- women studies wasn't always sunshine and rainbows, and she found she had a grin of her own to match. ‘ You flatter me too much. Let's just hope that Brittany works the same way- since you are cousins. Are gay bars Florida culture?’ She drew an extra big question mark- because that didn't sound right, but Sam probably knew more than her about it. ‘Do you have any big plans for this trip?’

Sam: ‘Oh most def. Have you seen Florida man stuff? This state does EVERYTHING wild and crazy.’ Sam grinned to himself as he wrote before adding. ‘Maybe I could buy a pet alligator and sneak it back on the plane. THAT would be the best plan other than just having as many beach parties and I can before I can't feel my legs.’ He passed the note back, already feeling the excitement rushing through him at all the things they could all get up to this week. It was a REAL vacation. Something Sam had never experienced before.

Quinn: ‘I definitely have- I could go all law nerd and tell you why, but I do also just think Florida is crazy.’ She drew a little alligator in the margin- it was crude, but she thought it was a needed addition. ‘In your bag? I don't think it'll fit. Just stick to the parties.’ It was easier to slowly goad Sam out of ideas than outright tell him no. Plus a little part of her was curious about how he'd go about getting said alligator.

Sam: Sam smiled from ear to ear as he looked over the picture that Quinn had drawn, wasting no time before drawing a little arrow to it and adding I love him with a cute little smiley face. ‘ Oop you are so right babe! The only way I could think to do it was dress one up in a dress and wig and pretend its my grandma like they did with Scooby Doo BUT airport security has stepped it up since.’

Quinn: ‘Yeah. I'm not sure that'll work- and what if it eats the baby racoons under your trailer? You can't do that to them.’ She added a little sad face with some tears- she didn't want to be accomplice to this alligator stealing. ‘We can just go see them at the zoo.’ Oh- the speaker had stopped. People were starting to leave. She handed the note over, and started packing the rest of her things away. She was kinda really excited to get out in Miami and party.

Sam: Sam was about to reply to the note and agree that it was only responsible of him to be a racoon dad that he didn't bring over a scary scaly lizard back to his place. After all, he did only have one bed and his summer paddling pool wasn't in any way big enough for the both of them to splash and chill. "Can I... Keep this?" Sam finally spoke up when they all started to leave, holding out the crumpled piece of paper.

Quinn: "Yeah- but its just a bunch of random thoughts." Quinn didn't really understand why he wanted to keep it at all, but she didn't understand a lot of things Sam did. "Do you want to go grab a drink? Start this break off right?"

Sam: Sam could think of nothing better than starting off the best vacation in the world with one of THE best people in the world. "Absolutalivity," he nodded enthusiastically, draping his arm over Quinn's shoulders as they moved out of the room with the rest of the crowds. "This is gonna be a vacay to remember.. BET!"

[screamingintosilence]

A/N: I started this at 8am this morning all because I saw the Dior Homme ad with Robert Pattinson and Camille Rowe in the elevator and felt compelled to write this as a Bughead drabble. I have no regrets. Sorry I didn’t finish sooner, I actually had to do work so I don’t get fired, oops.

She had been unsuccessfully trying to ignore the hormones coursing through her body for weeks now. 

He was her boss, after all. Not only that, he was founder and CEO of the entirety of Triple S Enterprises, while she was merely his personal assistant.

It didn't help that he was deliciously gorgeous - mid-thirties, all dark, brooding looks, silky tresses that she wanted to sink her fingers into as she held his head between her thighs, a toned, lean body that she dreamed of licking whipped cream off of. 

Down girl, she chidded herself. It was far too early in the morning to be getting so worked up, especially when she had yet to even face her boss.

Betty made her way through the crowd of bustling workers in the main lobby that were vying to get into the main bank of elevators leading to the upper floors of the skyscraper. 

She thanked her lucky stars that if she had to do office work instead of her dream job of investigative journalism (thank you very much post-grad New York job market), at least she was able to land working directly for a bigwig that had the finances to lease a private elevator for his upper level staff and their assistants.

“Ms. Cooper,” a deep gravelly voice greeted her as she passed the guard station by said elevator. Gerald “Tall Boy” Petite tipped his uniform hat to her as he did every weekday morning.

“Hi Jerry!” She beamed back as he blushed. Betty was the only person besides his wife allowed to call him that because no one was immune to her Betty Cooper charm. Well, except him, she thought bitterly as her mind once again turned to the image of her boss’s devilishly handsome face.

“Boss man hasn't been in yet, ma'am,” Tall Boy - as he was referred to by nearly everyone else - informed her as she continued on toward the elevator.

“That's fine, thanks Jerry.”

She hummed to herself as the elevator doors opened, running through her mental list of things she needed to get done today and what was on the agenda for her boss as well.

While she would rather spend her days researching into leads on breaking cases, freelance writing to get her foot in door didn't pay the bills on her 1 bedroom apartment. She knew that she could downgrade to a studio, but after 4 years of college in said living arrangement, she had refused. Hence needing a full-time gig that paid well enough to cover her expenses.

Her mind drifted to her best friend Veronica's offer to let her move-in, but Betty was intent on making it on her own as a way to prove her parents wrong. Always so stubborn, it'll get you in trouble if you're not careful, her nose scrunched at the voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like her mother.

However, she did take up Veronica's offer of helping her find a job in which they would accept her Journalism degree instead of the usually preferred Business Admin one. V’s father, Hiram Lodge, was a bigwig himself and had several business associates in high places, and it was thanks to him and his connections that she found herself in her current predicament of constant arousal over Forsythe Pendelton Jones the Third.

Who knew such a pretentious sounding name could very well fit a brooding bad boy type, who thankfully was in no way an asshole to his subordinates. It was only to his business rivals that he was truly ruthless. And if Betty was being honest with herself, his domineering tone he used during those business dealings had her panties soaked. His emanating power was her ultimate weakness and she wished she could just bang her head on her desk in utter embarrassment over how her insides turned to jelly.

“Hold the door!” An all too familiar commanding voice had her hand shooting out to block the doors closing right after she heard hold.

“G’morning, Mr. Jones!” was heard. 

A rushed “Tall Boy” the only response, before the tall frame of the man who haunted her dreams and played a starring role in her dirtiest fantasies crowded the doorway of the elevator, pulling up short at the sight of his PA.

“Ms. Cooper,” his voice like velvet caressed her as she felt her nipples go hard and her breasts grow heavier from it alone. “Perfect, you’re here.” His smile nearly had her falling to her knees at his feet.

Get it the fuck together, Cooper, she berated how easily he undid her without even knowing. Or caring, the voice in her head added snappishly.

She had been late getting up this morning, which hasn’t left her enough time for her normal daily AM self-care session with her favorite vibe that she had found extremely necessary since starting at Triple S. In the month of being his PA, she hadn't missed a day, but her she was, stuck on an elevator ride with the one man she wanted to get utterly lost in.

He leaned past her, hitting the button for their floor where his office was. It was all she could do to keep breathing normally, something she regretted at once when the intoxicating scent of his cologne washed over her senses and she felt a gush of wetness at the apex of her thighs. The doors slid shut and the box started to rise.

Fuck, not now, Cooper. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, a terrible idea on her part as the lace of her underwear only made the friction more intense. She could feel her arousal painting the inside of her thighs.

You're such a horny mess, she squeezed her eyes shut in embarrassment. As attuned as she was to her own body, she could practically smell herself and her face flushed at the realization. She only prayed that the scent of his cologne would mask the smell from the object of her arousal.

She tugged at the hem of her shorter than normal pencil skirt, her brain once again cursing itself for sleeping through her alarm. She realized too late how terrible of an idea it was. His eyes snapped to get at the movement, taking in her form and where her garter belt peaked out from under the skirt.

She watched in horror as his nostrils flared and he took a deep breath to compose himself. It was the wrong, or right, decision on his part as he caught the unmistakable whiff of her excitement. His eyes fell shut for the briefest moment before opening once more. 

To her shock, his normally green eyes were nearly overtaken with the black of his irises blown wide. “Ms. Cooper,” his voice was so deep she could feel the vibration of it to her core.

He stepped towards her, all but backing her into the corner. Her breath caught in her throat as her chest heaved, drawing his eyes down to her cleavage that was nearly spilling out of the low cut shirt that she had thrown on in her haste to not be late. She watched as his tongue darted across his lips, a soft mewling sound dropping from her own unwittingly.

There was a soft growling sound in response as a soft “Sir” fell from her mouth. 

She could see the tether snap in his eyes as they flashed at her unbidden address, his right hand grasping the nape of her neck as his left wrapped around her waist, hauling her lithe form to his.

Their lips were millimeters apart, her eyes having fallen shut at the sensation racing through her veins. She could feel his lips hovering over hers, but moving no further. She pried her eyes open, confused by his hesitation, and then she saw it. 

The unspoken question his eyes of if this was ok, if she wanted this, if she wanted him. Her heart stuttered and her whispered “Yes” was all that was heard before his soft lips came crashing down in the most passionate kiss she’d ever experienced.

He knew how to kiss, soft pecks littered between passionate dances of his tongue tangling with hers. He tasted of the spearmint gum he chewed and tobacco of the cigarettes she had been trying to get him to quit. It was an intoxicating flavor combination and she couldn’t get enough.

Her hands had tangled in his silky hair, she noted in the back of her mind how it felt so much better than she had ever imagined, as her knee rose and hitched itself over his hip. His hand that had been around her waist dropped to her ass, pulling her somehow even closer into his embrace. His hips rocked, grinding his stiff erection into her core, the sensation causing her brain to short circuit and her lips broke away from his as her head fell back against the cool metal of the elevator box.

Uncaring that his lips were no longer on hers, they attached themselves to her neck, kissing, biting, sucking until they reached the top swells of her breast. She was moaning at each kiss, feeling like she was about to become completely boneless in his arms as her hands, still gripping his hair, pulled him tight to her bosom, never wanting this feeling to end.

She was so lost in everything he was doing, she didn't even notice the elevator starting to slow. Thankfully he was aware enough of where they were that he pulled back slightly as he felt the box of metal reaching its destination. He pecked her lips twice more, tucked her hair that had fallen out of her bun back behind her ear, and lowered her still hooked leg back to the ground.

They both straightened their clothes and hair as he folded his suit jacket which he had yet to put on over his arm to hide the evidence of how much she excited him. He gave her a quick wink before guarding his features as the elevator pinged to signal their floor and the doors slid open to reveal a matronly Ms. Grundy at the executive receptionist’s desk.

He placed a hand at the small of her lower back which caused her to shiver with delight.

“Morning Geraldine,” he greeted the older lady warmly. “Looking beautiful as ever.”

“Good morning, Gigi!” Betty added brightly.

“Morning Mr. Jones, Betty,” the lady blushed at the young CEO’s greeting.

“Please hold all my calls and reschedule any visitors for me this morning, Ms. Cooper and I have a very important last minute meeting that is expected to last for a while. I'll let you know when it's done.” Betty’s eyes flashed to him in surprise. What meeting? Did he mean? Oh God. His face gave absolutely nothing away.

“Of course, Sir. Have a wonderful day!” Her face showed absolutely no sign of suspicion and the tightness in Betty’s chest receded by a fraction. 

His hand, still pressed to her lower back, pushed her forward, ushering her down the hall. They passed her desk and he guided her into his office. His sound proof office, she reminded herself. Closing the door and flipping the lock, as an extra precaution, he guided her until her back was pressed against the mahogany and his arms were caging her in.

A cage you very much don’t mind being in, her mind was racing at all the possibilities of this unexpected turn her morning took.

“Now, Ms. Cooper, where were we?” His hooded gaze weighed down on her and she bit her lip at how his voice washed over her.

Her hands grasped his tie to pull him closer and she looked up at him through her lashes. “Mr. Jones.”

[carrotsofavonlea]

Drive Me Crazy

Chapter Two:  A tactical, mutually beneficial arrangement

(AO3)

*****

“I can’t believe he broke up with me!” Anne shouted as soon as she closed the door to Diana’s car. “I’m not sad, I’m just so angry.”

“He’s not worth it.”

Anne sunk down in her chair, the previous moment’s passion fading away. “He is Diana…He was so handsome, so smart and romantic. I’m not going to find someone else like that.”

“You will. Boys are idiots, and he’s just a long line of them. You’ll find someone even better.”

Anne sat up sharply, an idea popping into her head. It was crazy, and possibly the most ridiculous scheme she’s ever come up with...but it could just be crazy enough to work.

“Oh no...I know that look.” Diana started grimacing.

“What if -”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”

“I know you. You’ve come up with some convoluted plan to get back at Roy.”

“Well...yeah but this one could work.”

“Anne, how many times have your plans worked?”

Anne hesitated, “Ok so maybe I don’t have a hundred percent success rate, but this one is different.”

“That’s what you say about every plan.”

“Just hear me out.”

“Fine…” Diana knew there was no arguing with Anne once she got an idea in her head.

“What if I pretend to date someone to make him jealous.”

“Anne that’s never -”

“Roy will see that he’s made a huge mistake and he’ll regret ever letting me go. But he won’t get me.”

Diana was stunned into silence as they pulled up outside Anne’s house. “That’s...insane. Don’t do that.”

“Too late, the plan is in motion.”

“No it’s not.”

“It is. I just need to find a boy that’s so awful Roy will feel so angry at seeing me with him.”

Just as Anne had said those words, a car pulled up outside the house next door. Gilbert. Diana’s mind went to the same place as Anne’s.

“Anne no-”

“It’s perfect! Gilbert Blythe? Roy will be furious!” Anne clapped her hands excitedly, jumping out of the car, “Diana you’re a  genius!”

“I want no part in this!” Diana called out the window, watching Anne run across her front yard to Gilbert’s. “This is not going to end well…”

Diana shook her head, deciding she didn’t want to watch this trainwreck, and drove away.

*********

“Blythe!” Anne called, but he carried on walking up his front porch. “Gilbert!”

That made him freeze. She hadn’t called him just “Gilbert” for years.

“What do you want?” He couldn’t have sounded any less interested if he tried.

“I have a preposition for you.”

“Not interested.” He put a hand on his front door but Anne reached out, putting hers over his to stop him. He looked at her hand before she pulled it away, just as quickly as she’d touched it.

“Please, I think this will suit both of us. If I could pick anyone else I would, but unfortunately, you’re the only one who this will work with.”

“What is it?” he raised an eyebrow.

“We pretend to be dating.”

“Why would we ever do that?”

“Because I want to make Roy jealous and don’t you think Winifred would want you back if she saw you with another girl?”

He laughed, “No one would believe that.”

“That’s why it’s so shocking. It would drive both of them crazy!”

“What makes you think I even want Winnie back?”

“Either way it’ll make her mad, don’t you want a little revenge on her?” Anne was almost begging, she couldn’t believe she was begging to Gilbert Blythe. What has the world come to?

He tilted his head, “I’ll think about it.”

“Please Gilbert. It’ll only be for a little while, take me to the centennial to make them jealous and then we can go back to hating each other.”

“Fine. But we’re setting ground rules.”

“Obviously.” she turned to leave, “Meet me in my old treehouse in about 5 minutes.”

“Why there?”

“I can’t have Marilla see you and think we’re friends again. This stays at school ok?”

“Fine.”

********

Anne was already drawing up a list of rules when Gilbert's head appeared at the entrance to the treehouse. For a split second, Anne was 7 again, expecting to see Gilbert's cheerful smile and whatever action figure or book he'd bought to show her. But then she remembered she was 17, not 7.

Gilbert had a nostalgic look on his face when he saw Anne with her knees curled underneath her, frantically scribbling away at her notebook. The place hadn't changed, maybe just a little dustier. Anne hadn't changed.

"I see you started without me." He climbed inside, sitting a respectable distance opposite her.

"Just being prepared." She didn't look up, finishing her sentence instead. "Here."

She handed him the notebook and he read over the rules.

"'No kissing?' Carrots I don't think that's going to be an issue."

"It's just a precaution. We're keeping things professional. This is simply a tactical, mutually beneficial arrangement."

He raised his hands in mock surrender and continued glossing over the rules. "So only at school do we have to act like a couple."

"It's easier if we don't involve Marilla. She'll only ask a million questions."

"Bash would never shut up about it." Gilbert laughed. "He never liked Winnie that much. I don't know why."

"I could of a few reasons…" Anne muttered under her breath.

"Ok, she's not that bad. Just...rich. And she likes to do things properly."

"Sure…" Anne raised an eyebrow.

"We're only "dating" until the centennial, right?"

"If we don't kill each other." Anne half joked, half serious.

" And if you haven't fallen in love with me by then."

Anne scoffed, "As if. You better not fall in love with me ."

"Won't be a problem."

/////

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if you’d like to be added to the tag list let me know x

[theshinsun]

Hello again! Here I am sending more 😂 Do you mind doing character thing with Kasamatsu, Imayoshi, Wakamatsu and Otsubo? If it's too much, can you do with the first three? Thank you 💕

Hello again! ^^ (So sorry for the delay I was half done and then I got hit with homework and classes and didn’t have much time to do more analyses, but they’re done for the week now! I’m free!) 

I don’t mind at all! But if it’s alright with you, I probably will just do those first three, not just because it’ll be ridiculously long otherwise, but because I don’t really? think I have any strong specific feelings for Otsubo? Idk why, I like him I just didn’t connect that much with him I don’t think... but I’ll gladly talk about the others!

Kasamatsu

How I feel about this character

GOOD SENPAI. I love this guy so much and wish he got to interact with more of the cast, I really vibe with his character design (his eyes are just... damn, also SOCKS), and I love the relationship he has with his team. He’s ruthless but obviously cares about all of them working together well, and is just looking for the respect he’s due as captain. Boy puts up with so much bullshit from his team of chaotic flaky weirdos, someone needs to cut him a break.  

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Kise (KiKasa ftw, the character development Kise goes through because of Kasamatsu is excellent, and almost instantaneous after he joins the team [“I liked being Kise of Kaijo”]. it’s really easy to interpret his behavior toward Kasamatsu as a crush; there’s no denying they’ve got chemistry and work well together... and even tho Kise drives his senpai nuts, they obviously both care about each other a lot)

Aomine (I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. They have one [1] interaction in canon, but that one interaction sold it for me. Aomine showing deference to someone and calling them “senpai”, helping him up after he got knocked down which seems... pretty unusual for him at the time, I’m so down for these two being in a relationship, it’s such a different dynamic than I usually see with pairings featuring Aomine, and there seems to be some legit respect to build off of there)

Imayoshi (I blame Lysapadin’s fic The Long Game for this, the way these two play off each other there and also canonically is... hilarious, the flirting, the Banter, please give me more quality captain ships I have a need) 

Hyuuga (MORE QUALITY CAPTAIN SHIPS. I talked about them a little in my list for Hyuuga, but I just love the idea of both of these tough, exasperated captains getting to be vulnerable with each other)

and this one is a crossover but

Oikawa Tooru (maybe because he reminds me so much of Kise, and Kasamatsu so much like Iwaizumi, I feel like they’d have a similar dynamic, but it’d be interesting to see how, unlike Kise, a hardworking somewhat self-destructive person and a fellow third-year like Oikawa would get on with this guy.) 

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Hmmm.... I’m gonna have to say Imayoshi again, even tho they work together as a couple too. The way they interact is so good, whether it’s platonic or not, and I’d love to see more one-on-one interaction with them. It could just be because the way Lysapadin handles their respective personalities in multiple fics is so perfect, but if they’re not romantically involved I’d at least like to see them as snarky semi-begrudging basketball buddies. 

My unpopular opinion about this character

I don’t know? If I have one? Mostly bc I don’t really know what the fandom itself thinks about Kasamatsu, he didn’t get a lot of press even in KNB’s heyday. A random opinion/hc of him tho is he seems to be a bit of a pessimist. Whenever he’s commentating he’s just talking about how the team’s gonna lose, and even before his own game he seemed to just be thinking about how he lost before. Idk what else to give ya, just something I observed that I don’t really see talked about or portrayed for this guy.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

*deep inhale* MOOORE SCREEEENTIME. And not just as a commentator/attachment to Kaijo where Kise hogs the spotlight, give this guy some time to interact with other characters and flesh him out some more please! I know I’m a broken record but that’s the only thing I can think of to improve him.

Imayoshi

How I feel about this character

I didn’t used to have much opinion of this guy tbh, when I was new to KNB… but NOW, damn, I love him every time he appears. He’s hilarious, I love how sassy and clever he is, I love that he has an accent (tho it’s only pointed out in the manga), I love that he gets to have little tidbits, like that he’s bad at drawing but good at mind-reading, and how he wears slippers in a school environment and just goes around teasing everyone, whether they’re teammates or opponents. Love this guy. I love how extra he is and I’m living every time he’s on screen.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Aomine (ok I talked about this quite a bit already in my Aomine rant analysis, and I mostly blame Lysapadin’s A Firm Hand series, but I just can’t get enough of the idea of these two together… [also this comic ] Imayoshi taking Aomine in hand and knowing how to handle him when no one else does, and gradually warming up to him when he stops playing tough and finally shows his soft side. good shit)

Momoi (also probably bc of A Firm Hand, but I could see these two having a very interesting relationship. They’re both extremely smart, and good at understanding people, and I really like the idea of Imayoshi taking Momoi under his wing so she doesn’t have to suffer in silence and handle everything by herself. I feel like they’d be surprisingly sweet to each other, but lesbehonest, also a potentially terrifying power couple that I almost never see done)

Kasamatsu (again, just like above, a unique dynamic and a lovely rarepair that doesn’t get talked about enough. they didn’t get nearly enough time to play off each other in canon but what we did see was damn good) 

Hanamiya (ok so… I’m not immune to this ship. I’ve seen some art, a couple fics, and it doesn’t seem to be much of a thing anymore, but still, why the hell not. they’ve got history, they’re both smart slightly evil [or very evil] shits, and they’d be such a disaster of a couple that’s why I love them)

My non-romantic OTP for this character

If not Kasamatsu, then probably Susa. They only got a little time to bond in canon, but I do love their dynamic and how chill they seem to be with each other. They remind me of a team mom/dad duo (tho I couldn’t tell you which was which lol). I could probably be talked into shipping them romantically, but I also just like the way they get along as friends and teammates. 

My unpopular opinion about this character

This is more an argument I keep having with my sister… but I actually, genuinely like this guy’s design. She thinks he looks creepy and too evil and doesn’t like that his eyes are drawn closed, but esp in the manga, he looks really polished and I like that you can tell when he gets serious by whether you can see his eyes open. (or as I say to my roommate “oh shit he’s got eyes they’re in trouble”)

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I wish we got to see more of him just hanging with his team. Idk maybe I’m biased, but I feel like Touou in particular doesn’t get that much time devoted to, like, practice and normal everyday shit (maybe bc we got to see Kaijo twice and Shuutoku got a whole training camp plus some, but all we get of them is the hot springs scene and a very short scene at the beginning and end of the show imeanwhat) I would’ve liked to get to know this guy better and see more of how he runs his very strange individualized team, but that could just be me.  

Wakamatsu

How I feel about this character

My dude puts up with so much shit. I mean the first we see of him he’s getting kneed in the stomach by a certain dickish first-year, and he just always seems… so done with what’s going on around him. When he’s not yelling about it, which… mood, tbh. He’s relegated to little more than a background character in the anime, and only gets a liiiittle more development in the manga (as well as lots of really good faces), but tbh I’d love to see more of him. I’d love to know what he’s like as a captain and see more of how he gets along with the team; he’s the kind of hotheaded noisy player they make into the protagonist of other shows and I want to know more about him.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Momoi (k a couple of my friends @spaztictwitch and @hadenxcharm actually sold me on this one. It’s a really really rare pair, but now I can’t stop thinking about it and I really like the possibilities of them as a couple.)

Aomine (again I talked a little bit about this in my Aomine essay, but I’m a sucker for this kind of ship… the love/hate dynamic, I mean. that doesn’t get old does it. and yet I don’t think I’ve ever seen content for these guys together, maybe I should take it on myself)

Sakurai (hot-tempered senpai/captain and anxious apologetic mushroom, sign me tf up these two would be Hilarious as a pairing, oh my god. I love it)

Kiyoshi (k listen. LISTEN. yes all I’ve got is the fact that they’re both centers and they only interact, like, twice, but the idea popped into my head and I think I could actually totally see it. any takers?)

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Imayoshi. I don’t know if I’d ship them as a romantic pair (tho like with most things, if someone made a good case for them I’d consider it), but I do like their canonical interactions, like Imayoshi explaining the exceptions made for prodigies in sports (“do you know the golfer Tiger Woods? How about Shaq?”), and passing the proverbial hat to him when he retires as captain (“no worries, you’ll do fine!” like he’s reassuring a new parent or smth lmao). They’re good teammates even if Touou is not really about teamwork, and I like the mutual respect in how they seem to get along.

My unpopular opinion about this character

Not just a one-note guy who yells all the time. I mean, yes, he does yell and he’s got a short temper, but so does Kagami and people don’t portray him as a guy with only one emotion and that emotion is Anger. I mean… usually they don’t. Idk maybe it’s because most of his screentime involves him butting heads with Aomine, but he seems to get along with the rest of the team alright. He respects his seniors and the spirit of the team too, he’s just an all-around good guy that seems to get the short end of the stick a lot.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I have a MIGHTY NEED to see how this guy does as captain, I want to know how he does things differently than Imayoshi and how he handles all the bullshit the team throws now that it’s all gonna be landing on his shoulders. We only got a tiny scene at the end of the show demonstrating his policy about Aomine, and we barely saw him at all in the Last Game, is he doing okay?? Is he ruling Touou with an iron fist or getting into screaming matches with his kouhai? I need to Know.

Thanks so much for asking, I really appreciate the show of interest! <3 Sorry again about the delay!

[beanarie]

⭐star⭐⭐star⭐⭐star⭐⭐star⭐⭐star⭐ (or talk more about and/all of your Elementary WIPs/ideas bc I want every single drop I can get)

so i totally wrote about joan having breast cancer a couple years ago. here’s the bits i cobbled together, some of which also disappeared from my phone, which tells me i need to back my shit up more often!

~

The call comes while her stitches from her lumpectomy and lymph node removal are still in place and hurting like a mother and she's only too aware of Sherlock, his terror an acrid smell in her nose. She's told it's not what they hoped, but it's not hopeless, and she barely pauses at all before she looks at Sherlock, smiles, and says, "It's fine."

He's so grateful he takes her out for lunch. They go to a cafe with an outdoor area that he knows she's been eyeing for months.  She orders a giant salad with extra pecans and he wrinkles his nose before telling a story about Thomas Jefferson's penchant for giving pecans as gifts.

The call comes while her stitches from her lumpectomy and lymph node removal are still in place and hurting like a mother and she's only too aware of Sherlock, his terror an acrid smell in her nose. She's told it's not what they hoped, but it's not hopeless, and she barely pauses at all before she looks at Sherlock, smiles, and says, "It's fine."

He's so grateful he takes her out for lunch. They go to a cafe with an outdoor area that he knows she's been eyeing for months.  She orders a giant salad with extra pecans and he wrinkles his nose before telling a story about Thomas Jefferson's penchant for giving pecans as gifts.

[the truth comes out in a week or so!]

"We should talk about this."

He closes the file in his hand and tosses it on the stack. 

"I-I'm sorry I kept you in the dark. I needed to get the full results and figure out what to do next, without... I don't know. Background noise."

"It's not that serious. People with results like mine have a ninety-three percent chance of remaining cancer-free after treatment. Really, it's barely cancer." 

"I mean, yes. Several weeks of radiation, sprinkled with tests and maybe a PET scan or two. Still, not particularly life-derailing. I'm going to work. The only real change will be to my availability. And I won't be able to leave the city, except maybe on the weekends. Overall, we'll simply get more use out of face-time than we did before."

A series of short, shallow nods urges her to let the other shoe drop.

Joan adjusts her gaze to slightly beyond his left ear. "I've asked Lin to help me find a place to sublet for the next two months."

His only reaction is the barely perceptible droop of his shoulders.

"I'm not leaving you." The first time she meant to leave the brownstone, he abducted a contract killer, then tortured and stabbed him. The second time, he went back to London for almost a year with no notice beyond a short Dear Joan letter. She can't handle one of his signature extreme overreactions. "Sherlock, it's really important you absorb that, if nothing else."

"But you do plan on leaving."

"It's the least disruptive option for both of us. And it's only temporary."

[the next day, joan gets home and in the library there's a stack of books, dvds, and cd's on wellness-type things and other stuff, like a giant fluffy orange blanket on the couch. sherlock explains he did some research, orange is a calming color. also OK HE RESPECTS HER CHOICES but. she's not a disruption, she's family. also also moving is one of the most stress-inducing acts a person can put themselves through and it wouldn't be good for her recovery to do that twice in as many months. anyway, she stays.]

"We should formulate a safety plan."

Joan finishes the line she was working on and clicks save so she doesn't have to end up doing this report all over again. This has his second sponsor written all over it. Rashida, having completed her PHD, has been taking classes in behavioral science possibly with an eye for a new specialty. She means well, and she and Sherlock get each other like a pair of esoteric intellectuals only could. It's still strange to get confirmation that he talks about her illness with other people. "A safety plan."

"Yes! A short, memorable list of agreed upon actions in the case of emergent medical and/or emotional, um, turmoil."

"We never had a safety plan for you."

 "Didn't we?"

"Fine, so you'll let me pass out wherever I drop and just leave a protein bar by my head so I don't die of hypoglycemic shock when I wake up two days later."

"That's all you did?"

"So I'll let you know if I'm not feeling well and up to whatever's going on." His expression is unreadable, which is rare. "What? You implied pretty heavily that you wanted me to."

Incomprehensibly, his expression becomes almost sad. "That's why you remain so closed off, because of my history of resistance to..." 

"Okay, this conversation swerved past making sense. I tell you things all the time. This morning, with your cereal?"

"When *truly* bothered, you keep it to yourself and speak to no one, unless I draw it out of you."

"I speak up when I have something to say. And, I will."

-

"Have you considered cutting your hair?" 

"I'm not getting chemo, Mom. I told you."

"I know. It's just so much to take care of. My cousin Darlene, she had radiation. It drained her. You'll be tired."

"You've always wanted me to cut my hair."

Her expression grows softer, more wistful. "I do like it shorter." 

"I remember." Ruefully her entire catalogue of school photos scrolls through her memory. Mom's rule had been adamant and easy to follow: Never past the chin. "I'm not doing that again."

"Okay. Your choice." 

Joan doesn't rise to the hint of passive-aggression. 

A few hours later, she gets home from treatment, she takes a shower, and she tries to see tonight playing out in a possible near future. She adds imaginary weights to her wrists and ankles, and the almost unbearable weariness after watching a murderer get to go home scot-free. 

"Fine," she tells her reflection. 

She puts her mom on FaceTime, so she can see the results.

Her mom squints. "You didn't cut that much."

"Four inches." Just enough so she doesn't have to strain to get the brush through while she's blow drying.

“Hm.“

“Anyway, I’ll see you Thursday for tea, Mom?“

-

Lord save her from aspiring criminals who think they're too cool for the interrogation room. Anthony Raymond has been stonewalling them since Bell brought him in. What makes this especially annoying is he won't even ask for a lawyer. They'd tell him to spill his guts, or at least start negotiations for a deal. This nothingness isn't ideal when she has to take off for treatment soon. If she doesn't get this nut cracked before she goes, it'll be hanging over her head for the rest of the afternoon.

The door opens. Anthony doesn't move a muscle. Gregson enters bearing an extra-large fountain drink, a pen, and a piece of paper. He sits, thoughtfully configuring these objects around his immediate space. It takes a full thirty seconds, during which he doesn't acknowledge Anthony at all. He slides the paper toward Joan.

'Paige made you a smoothie. Not sure what's in this, but she swears by it.'

Joan glances at Anthony as though she learned something important, then looks back at the note. "Hm." She takes the pen. 'I'm good. Thank you both.'

'Holmes said you haven't really eaten yet.' He pushes the drink about an inch in her direction.

Joan makes two straight lines, one each for 'I'm' and 'Good'. 

[perp eventually cracks because their note-passing is freaking him out]

[slightly later, joan brings the smoothie into gregson's office. he asks what she thought of it. she says "i didn't try it" and throws it in the garbage.]

-

It's Saturday, the end of her first week of treatment, and there aren't any murders. Joan texts the guy she liked from TrueRomantix, the one who came to check that she was safe when Everyone doxxed her and hacked her profile. He's still cute. She can't remember exactly why they didn't sleep together the last time, something about it not feeling right. Meanwhile he fosters seeing-eye dogs and he has the best pectorals she's ever seen.

She takes off her bra, but leaves the camisole. It's dark in his bedroom, but not too dark for either of them to see her scars or the semi-circle constellation of radiation tattoos. At one point she guides his hand underneath to her right breast. When he goes for the left, she distracts with a move that almost has his eyes bugging out of his head.

"Wow," he breathes.

When they're done, he doesn't push her to leave *or* ask her why she isn't staying. They'll be doing this again sometime.

-

[another patient in the waiting room at the radiation clinic starts having a medical emergency. joan immediately jumps forward to help and the patient's mom looks at her like who the fuck are you. it sticks with her the whole rest of the afternoon.]

She's been in a position where people have doubted her expertise before, many times. But never because she was meant to be on the other side. She's a patient, that's her role now.

Briefly she considers lying. The Uber app is acting weird, something like that. She settles on a simple, 'Are you busy?'

She gets her reply in less than thirty seconds. 'Need a ride?'

When Marcus arrives at the clinic, he touches her arm and kisses her cheek, a note of intimacy between close friends. It feels natural, even though his customary greeting, usually at crime scenes or the bull pen, is a brusquely friendly "Hey." They communicate mainly in nods and smiles intended only for each other, cups of coffee as close to the way they like it as limited resources will allow. 

After they settle into the car, he doesn't turn the engine on right away. He waits, unobtrusively.  

"I don't want to disrupt any plans you might've had for today," she says.

He lifts one shoulder. "Just a pickup game. Nothing I can't put off for another week."

"Actually..."

He turns his head. "Hm?"

She was warned not to expect anything fancy. No bleachers, not much crowd. Kids of varying ages drift by, many popping in and out of the tiny storefronts. 

She can't remember the last time she simply existed in public when she wasn't jogging or staking out a criminal. The open air feels refreshing. Not one of these people care that she used to be a doctor.

After the first quarter, she asks to borrow the chair of a guy selling hats, scarves, and phone chargers from a folding table. He was spending most of his time at the halal cart talking to the man stuck inside anyway.

-

The chair is comfortable. The lighting tasteful. Joan's shoes feel fine. The mid-level exec at the other end of the table isn't stonewalling in the slightest. His voice could almost be called soothing. 

All those other things aside, if this meeting doesn't end in the next few minutes she is going to jump out the window. 

Her knee bouncing, she shifts her upper body in a way that's hopefully not that visible to anyone else. It doesn't help, in fact the resulting movement of her bra over her left boob makes her want to scream.

"We appreciate your elucidation on Mr. Wallach's movements last Tuesday." Joan nearly bites her lip at the growing light at the end of the tunnel. "Now if you could tell us about the lawsuit from three months ago. Sexual harassment, was it not?"

Joan gets to her feet with a repressed groan. Then she runs for the receptionist. "Restroom?"

She's just stepped inside the single stall and slid the lock into place when she hears the deathly urgent, "WATSON???"

She curses fluently inside her head and undoes the lock, just in case. "Sherlock! I'm o-"

And he's barreled through the open door.

"What the hell!" She pulls together the unbuttoned half of her shirt. 

"I thought-" Over Sherlock's shoulder, a security guard starts coming into view. "What-what are you doing?"

"Sorry." Her face will probably remain this garish shade of red for...ever. "I'm, uh, peeling. Itch is driving me crazy."

He blinks, adrenaline making him shake slightly and keeping him from comprehending. "What?!"

"The only emergency right now is my imminent death by mortification." Her left hand tightly curled to protect her modesty, she makes a shooing motion with her right. "Go away."

He turns toward the door, then stops. "I've done the reading. If you have developed a rash, or the beginnings of dermatitis, scratching is highly inad-"

"OUT."

-

Lin greets her at the bar in her signature neurotically enthusiastic way. After tilting her head a little, she agrees to sit at a booth rather than stay near the bartender, where she loves to try out her charms to get free drinks for the two of them.

"I've never seen you go hard like this." She's waiting on the server to bring her second martini and Joan's third whiskey. "You look tired."

Joan waits until after the drinks have arrived. "Thanks, I had cancer."

"What?"

"Had," she repeats. "Had. As of yesterday, it's past tense. When I'm done with this course of radiation, I'll be free." She knocks on the table. "Until the follow-ups." 

Lin gets up to go to the bathroom without a word. Joan downs her drink and orders another round. To Lin's credit, she beats the server back to the table.

"So those times you said you couldn't meet up because you had cases..."

"One, oncologist appointment and two, actually a case. Sorry."

"You told your brother, didn't you?"

Because Joan is three drinks in, she doesn't hold anything back from her eyeroll. Her siblings having no relationship with each other is not on her. "That's different."

"Because he's real."

"Because he lives two hundred miles away! I didn't have to see...that. That expression, in my face, all the time."

"You could've died and I would never have known you were sick."

Joan snorts. "I was never *dying*." There was that period between her biopsy and the results of her lumpectomy, when decades-old memories of various patients, poor souls fading in front of her eyes, resurfaced every hour. Lin didn't need to be there for that.

"Look." Joan kisses Lin noisily on the cheek. "I just got the best news of my life and I wanted MY SISTER here with to celebrate being Officially. Cancer. Free!"

A table of young men nearby let out a cheer. Lin smiles in spite of herself.

-

Joan wakes up naturally. 

She spends a few minutes watching him. Many people say they'll sleep anywhere, but Sherlock actually will. And he never shows a single sign of stiffness or back pain. She envies him that, even as she acknowledges that she'd still prefer a bed, even if there were no consequences to sleeping on the floor. 

"Is this just the first time I caught you?" Her voice is husky from sleep. 

He springs to his feet. "Oh!" He runs off, returning no more than six minutes later with breakfast.

After placing the tray on the bed, he stands at her side, stiff and silent like a brooding Lurch. "What, no speech?" she teases.

He takes in a shaky breath. "It has been quite some time since I lost the ability to imagine a life without you in it. Gratitude isn't sufficient enough to describe how it feels to know this is a concern I can put off for another day."

"Oh, Sherlock." 

"These past few weeks have been fraught, for you." She gives a start. This has taken an unexpected turn. "Full of pain and fear, the reopening of old wounds. You've conducted yourself so admirably. My respect for you, which had appeared to reach its zenith years ago, I find had untold heights yet to climb." He leans toward her, his hand cradling the back of her head while his lips press against her hairline. 

He disengages, turning his back and she makes a tentative grab for his hand. He freezes in place, not resisting. "I love you, too," she says thickly, shoving aside tears.

Joan doesn't remember having done anything remotely admirable. She's been tired and snappish, she forced everyone to cater to her, she stopped doing her fair share of the work. The one person she tried to help didn't need her. It's been weeks since she felt like she existed for any worthwhile reason. 

Maybe that's why it's good to see herself through his eyes, just this once. She squeezes his hand, then quickly lets go, taking pity on him. Plucking the cloth napkin from the tray and pressing it against her eyes, she laughs. "So this was your plan for my last day? Get my face all blotchy just in time to go in there and say goodbye to all those people?"

"What does it matter? You'll never see them again.

[toilethought]

ok so my issue with the whole idea of “you can write/draw whatever you want” assertion is that, while technically true, it’s also important to remember that you are responsible for what you write.

and this has been an argument going around in fandom communities on tumblr for ages now, especially re: ao3′s absolute lack of any type of moderation on their site. and while i’m not a hardliner (and i doubt most people are) who thinks that you should /never/ write about [insert terrible thing here], i certainly do hold the view that people should be conscious of what they’re promoting when they write.

so, yeah, sure, write all your sexual fantasies that you won’t admit to in the light of day, but tag them. make it clear in author’s notes that it’s just a fantasy. make it clear that this type of thing is wrong in real life, and don’t act as if it’s a chore to do so (or as if it’s ridiculous that anyone would think it’d be right). because, maybe it’s that i’m young enough to remember when i was a baby on the internet and all the things i stumbled upon as a kid. but i don’t doubt that young people will stumble upon these fantasies, not knowing what they are, and not realizing that they’re bad. this isn’t a “people are stupid” thing. it’s a “some people are too young to have learned all of this yet” thing. and, and, you better make sure it is damn hard for any random kid on the internet to wander in and find what you’ve written.

and, yes, the onus is on the author to do this, not on the kid to realize that the world is a scary place and maybe they’re not quite yet mature enough for some things.

[like, a few months ago there was a kerfuffle between a certain manga site and some groups of yaoi scanlators in which these scanlators tried to get this manga site to list their scanlations as R18+ and hence inaccessible without an account and verification, but said manga site kept insisting that only hentai was R18+ and that yaoi wasn’t, despite yaoi also containing graphic sex. these scanlators, on the basis of not wanting their work to be found by minors on accident, ended up leaving this manga site for precisely this reason. and while i would’ve been shocked at this choice even just a few years back, now, at 25, i completely understand where they’re coming from and agree. this is what being a responsible adult looks like.]

and, returning to the original crux of the thing, i’m reminded of what i posted a while back re: the scarjo debacle, that i think anyone who believes art is immune to criticism is wrong (and a hack). because art not only reflects real life but also influences it too. (and not just in bad ways too -- i’m sure we can all name a book or painting or whatnot that changed out lives.) and so when you’re drawing or writing or creating art, you have to be a responsible creator of The Thing. because no matter how media likes to paint the image of the lone, tortured artist, none of us ever work in isolation, no matter how we might want to.

like, think about it, do you really want to be a Nabokov, crying decades later that “no, lolita wasn’t a romance, and if you think it is, you’re a pedophile”? like, we can proselytize all we want about why we, as a society, read lolita and think “love story” instead of “ew pedophilia”, but at the core of it, Nabokov is responsible for bringing it into the world. and if that many people think it’s something Nabokov didn’t intend it to be, something went wrong in translation, and rather than shouting “you’re reading my work wrong!” maybe start thinking, “i probably should have written it differently”. Nabokov probably got the rudest wake-up call in that sense, but i think that applies to a lot of things. (like, if a lot of folks are reading racism into your work, i’m sorry to say, but your work is probably racist... and it’s something you have to fix, even if it was unintentional.)

so, my base point isn’t that you should never write something objectionable, but that you have to be a responsible author-adult when you’re writing. that you have to be aware of what message it is you’re sending via your writing. it’s fine to write sexual fantasies, but make the readers aware that it’s only a fantasy. tag your work properly! write the obligatory disclaimer that you don’t condone this behavior irl! it might seem silly as an adult, but it’ll make a difference to the minor who inadvertently stumbled upon your work. especially since ao3′s kudos system seems designed to elevate extremely porn-y works over others.

(like there’s further permutations of this debate. re: the difference between a published work vs. fannish work. the former of which most seem to hold to a higher standard than the latter, since the latter is “just for fun”. i think, with how the internet is structured, it’s naive to think that fannish work can just remain in isolation, within its own fandom communities, especially since ao3 itself encourages cross-pollination across fandoms. this isn’t the usenet or even LJ days where you have to deliberately go and search for these things. it’s there, and it’s easily accessible. and, yes, i agree that fannish works shouldn’t be held to as high a standard as published works, but there does need to be a standard. and if it takes a bit longer to write/publish a fanfic nowadays, i think that’s a necessary -- and good -- tradeoff in exchange for safer, more inclusive spaces for everyone.)

[areiton]

(1)Cause you're (rightfully) grumpy about people's purity wank I've got a question that might distract you and which I desperately hope you have an answer to: I mostly read steter fic so far. Now i wanted to get into sterek but ... I seem to be too picky?? I'd like to read sth not totally au (Erica and Boyd being alive is fine for example), with not too much ooc-ness, with Peter NOT being the villain and with Derek's abusive past 'relationships' and Stiles self-destructiveness actually adressed

(2) and I can’t seem to find sth that really … catches me. There are so many amazing steter fics out there (yes, I very definetely talking about your fics too) and I’m sure there are equally amazing sterek fics, but …. yeah. I’m obviously not able to find them. So - help??? Please??

~*~

Oh, friend. You are my favorite. This is the kind of ask Iadooooore. Ok, you ready? Cuz this list is LOOOOONG. (big thanks to@bloody-bee-tee for helping me find fics for this list.) Not everything fitsall your criteria, but all of them fit some.

**Are especially good for dealing with Derek and/or Stiles healing.

~~

Patterns of Intention by drunktuesdays:

Derek looked likethe stuff of his deepest fantasies. His shirt was rumpled where Stiles had hishands in it, and he was breathing hard as well, chest heaving. His eyes—hiseyes were glazed over and he looked stunned, like he’d been—like Stiles had—

“No,” Stiles said,blood draining from his face. The word was croaky and felt like it had to bewrenched out of his chest. “God, no.”

~~

Paper Skin and Glass Bones byhushlittlewolf:

Derek can’t takethis. He can’t take this joking, concerned boy that has the evidence of Derek’sshortcomings carved into his skin.

Or

The one where Dereknever paid attention to how much Stiles got hurt…until he sees Stilesshirtless and notices all the scars.

~~

**Carry You Home byCastielific:

“Derek letshimself fall on his back, breath short, heart beating fast. He can feel theWolf in him, purring in satisfaction and contentment. Asking for more. It wantshim to turn and touch, to never stop touching. Instead, Derek squeezes hishands into fists and closes his eyes, trying to push it back, this need, thisinstinct screaming for his mate. For Stiles.”

Title inspired bythis Firefly quote: “When you can’t run anymore, you crawl, and when you can’tcrawl, when you can’t do that, you find someone to carry you”

~~

Trust Fall byStoney:

Stiles is fairlycertain that a case could be made for every bad thing in his life coming backto Peter Hale. This time it’s pissing off a powerful witch, who retaliated byswapping Stiles and Derek a la Freaky Friday, because sure. Thatmakes sense. Um, there are GPAs on the line, not to mention the whole thingwhere his dad wants to shoot Derek on sight. Except who he sees as Derek isactually Stiles, and Stiles did not sign up for filicide.

Great. Wait…does this mean he’s the Alpha until they figurethis out? Holy. Shit.****

Derek had stood in front of the bathroom mirror for a fewminutes trying to control the panic as he saw himself as Stiles. As the loudmouthed human friend of the pack. He was going to kill Peter. He was going tokill the witch, then he was going to kill Peter. Maybe even resurrect him againjust to kill him all over.

They were going to have to play this cool. They would have tostay calm and focused. Which is of course why the universe threw him into thissituation with someone who physically couldn’t be calm and focused.

Of course.

~~

Stilinski’s Home for WaywardWolves by owlpostagain:

“At least yourpuppies knock first,” Stiles snorts. “Here I thought their alpha raised them tobe well-mannered.” 



“There’s a sign,” Derek responds stiffly. 



Stiles, whose curiosity outweighs even his hardest of grudges,abandons his chilly façade of nonchalance in a heartbeat. He jumps right up andall but pushes Derek out of the way in his effort to get to the window, andsure enough when he leans outside there’s a laminated strip of cardstock ducttaped to the vinyl siding: 



DON’T FORGET TO KNOCK Stiles gets cranky when we scare him

—

Or, in which StilesStilinski moves to Beacon Hills for his junior year of high school andaccidentally adopts a pack of teenage werewolves.

~~

How  Derek Met His Smallest Fan by purleduvet:

Derek is standing inthe fruits and vegetables aisle, trying to decide between two very nice lookingwatermelons, when someone small crashes into his legs.

or

Derek comes back toBeacon Hills after years of being gone and meets Stiles and his kid at thesupermarket.

~~

Make it Feel Like Home by redeyedwrath:

Maybe it would’vebeen different if things had never happened. Maybe it would’ve been different ifhe hadn’t persuaded Scott to go search in the woods. Maybe it would’ve beendifferent if he hadn’t been so stubborn. Maybe it would’ve been different if heand Scott had never met.

Maybe it would’ve been different, would’ve beenbetter, if he hadn’t been born in the first place.

He tightens his fingers on the steering wheel untilthey turn an ugly, bloodless color. The only good thing, in his opinion, that’dcome out of all of this, had been meeting Derek. Derek, who’d been an assholebut turned out to be the most loyal, kindest person Stiles knows.

He resists the urge to drive off the road and screaminto his palms. Beause Derek had left, and now he’s alone.

Or, an AU where Stiles runs away to find himself but finds Derekinstead.

~~

Misfire bymothlights, unpossible: (this one has less than fantastic Peter, buthe isn’t actively bad, and it’s amazing)

“The debt must berepaid,” she says, and it has the weight of a vow. Thewords resonate through him, ringing through his ribcage and the bones of hisjaw, and Stiles loses his breath and maybe his grip on reality because shedraws herself upright and where there had once stood a supermodel-level MILFnow there is Galadriel’s much hotter older sister, a Presence of unmistakablepower in their ordinary, smells-vaguely-of-Thai-takeout hallway.

“Oh shit,” Stilessays.

~~

And You Say You’re Alone by taelynhawker:

Between the kanima, the Argents, and Peter’suntimely return from the dead, everything has fallen apart. Stiles and Derektry to put their lives back together once the crisis has passed. Stiles dealswith the aftermath of being tortured, and the distance growing between he andScott. Derek attempts to become a stronger alpha and keep his pack safe, andthat includes Stiles.

~~

The Art of Dying Well by kinneas:

Yousaid we’re friends.“

"Whoa, way to holdwhat a guy says in the heat of the moment against him,” Stiles repliesautomatically, but… that’s not what he wants to say, not at all, not to thequiet contemplation that is Derek Hale on his living room sofa. So he adds,“I guess, yeah.”

Derek doesn’t speak fora long moment. “Then it’s inevitable.”

“Wow,”Stiles whistles, “you are the biggest downer.”

~~

Gracious in Defeatby yodasyoyo:

Stiles needs to getaway from Beacon Hills after the end of his senior year. Derek offers to lethim stay with him in São Paulo, and they finally act on the tension that hasalways simmered between them.

The thing is, whenit’s time to go home- Stiles doesn’t want to leave.

~~

Crash Landers by gyzym:

In which Stiles learns to Stalk That Stalk.(Or, how to accidentally woo your unfriendly neighborhood alpha in roughly fivehundred handwritten steps.)

~~

**Not Quite Lost (Not QuiteFound) by alocalband:

A year after thenogitsune is defeated, Derek is living a quiet life in the mountains above asmall town in Colorado.

Then Stiles showsup.

~~

The Darkness Inside by isthatbloodonhisshirt:

The sheriff watchedhim for a moment, then he sighed and turned slightly. He reached out to open acabinet door beside him, and pulled out a shelf. It was on a track, so itrolled out of the cabinet fairly easily, and held a small CCTV. Derek frownedand inched his chair to the side a little bit so he could get a better angle.

He was looking at a teenager, or someone at least young enoughto be the same age as Scott. He was sitting on a bed in what looked to be alarger room, the area he was in surrounded by four glass walls, with his legscrossed and head tilted.

He was also staring directly into the camera, as if he knewsomeone was watching. A creepy smile slowly slid onto the teen’s face, and heheld up one hand, wiggling his fingers in a slow, eery wave.

Derek felt his mouth run dry. He didn’t know who this kid was,but he didn’t like him.

“Who is that?” he asked quietly.

“That,” said thesheriff, “is my son.”

~~

***Bravery is a Loaded Gun byLiviKate:

“No, I’m notasexual, Stiles,” Derek said shortly.

The teen’s heart sank in his chest, his palms going clammy andhis neck prickling with the familiar feeling of rejection.

“So then it’s,” Stiles swallowed, throat clogging, unable togive voice to the facts he would much rather ignore. The silence grew betweenthem, growing tense the longer it was left. For the first time in years, Stilescouldn’t speak. The weight of inadequacy held down his typical stream ofuseless banter. What does one say in this sort of situation? ‘I’m sorry youdon’t find me attractive?’

In which the boys speak in half sentences and have two totallydifferent conversations. What they can agree on, eventually, is that they loveeach other. And that Derek should jerk off more.

~~

Warm shadows bystilinskisparkles:

“Fine,” Stiles spitsback, “We’ll die together, it’ll be dandy.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Derek snaps, “I’ll get some peaceand quiet for once.”

Stiles grinssuddenly, blindingly. There’s blood on his teeth, and his eyes are dark anddesperate as he looks up at Derek, but he’s never looked more stupidly,infuriatingly beautiful.

~~

Give Me Back My Bones (maybe thenwe’ll talk) by kariye:

Derek meets Stiles on a Wednesday. He comes infor his usual cup of coffee and somehow walks out with hot chocolate, cinnamonon the top, and no idea what just happened there.

~~

Romancing the Sourwolf. (OrStiles Stilinski’s Foolproof Guide to Getting Your Man) by lucyinthesoupwithcrutons:

The 15 year plan for Lydia was clearly thewrong way to go; Stiles won’t be making the same mistake with Derek. He decidesto do his homework this time.

~~

Throw Me to the Wolves by skoosiepants:

He feels thephysical embodiment of devastated, his already too strung-out mindstruggling to wall up all the hurt, the rejection—he takes a deep shudderingbreath and looks down at the shredded skin on his arms, at the sluggish waythey’re weakly healing.

There is nothing, nothing he wants more than tohave Derek sweep in and make everything all better. He should have known,though, that something like that would never happen to him.

OR -

Stiles accidentallygets bitten, and everything goes to hell.

~~

***SharingFood by aussiebee:

“Sharing foodwith another human being is an intimate act that should not be indulged inlightly.” ― M.F.K. Fisher

Or

Derek is pretty muchabsorbed into the Stilinski family, one meal at a time.

~~

Derek Hale’s No-Good, Very BadDay by Mackem:

Derek hides from his day.

~~

***Start Small, Like Oak Treesby SmallBirds:

The months following Allison’s death havepassed Stiles by in a haze of monotony. He sleepwalks through days that seem tolose their color, an unwilling passenger in a body he no longer trusts.Eventually, he thinks, he’ll just fade away. He isn’t sure anyone would notice.Then, during a spur of the moment grocery run, he stumbles upon Derek Haleattempting to console a lost child, and for the first time in recent memory theworld doesn’t seem so awful.He’s not sure what he’d been expecting when he eventuallyconvinces Derek to move into the Stilinski’s spare bedroom, but a newfoundpassion for weeding and topsoil certainly isn’t it.

~~

A Quiet Night (Not in theCards) by Delightful_I_Am:

“Derek fucking Hale!”

The shout rang through the bar and for a long moment nobodymoved. It was like something out of a movie. Everything just stopped; the musiccut off; one of the servers had frozen mid-pour. Grady would have laughed if heweren’t holding his breath. The kid straightened his shirt, a glimpse ofstomach showing the curling edges of a tattoo on his hip, and strode towardwhere Hale was sitting in the dark corner. As one, every supe in the placeturned to see Hale’s reaction; the last person to try to confront Hale in herehad left with a broken hand and a whispered threat that the next time Halewould rip their throat out. With his teeth.Unsurprisingly, Hale’s face was set in its usual glower, although it seemed abit softer around the eyes. It took Grady a second to realise Hale knew the kid.

~~

The blood blooms clean in you,ruby by m_leigh:

“You don’tremember, anymore, where exactly you were when you found out that she was dead.You remember almost everything else about her dying, though.”

Stiles Stilinski hasalways been the person who will do what other people don’t want to. It’s hard,though, when your friends keep trying to protect you. Post-S2.

~~

***Tide pullsfrom the moon by paintedrecs:

When Derek leftBeacon Hills, finally ripping the tether free and remembering how to breathe,how to live again, it was Stiles who came after him. Stiles, who showed up athis door with blazing eyes, looking like he wanted to punch him in the face,but wrapping his arms around him instead, making him grunt in surprise at theraw strength of his embrace.

“You asshole,”Stiles said, slapping him heartily on the back as he extricated himself, hisvoice rough under his bright smile. “You couldn’t have made yourself harder tofind, could you?”

~~

Homing Mechanisms by SmallBirds:

Magnetoreception:The sense which allows an organism to detect a magnetic field to perceivedirection, altitude or location. How birds find their way home.

–

Stiles returns toBeacon Hills after four years at Stanford, only to find out that Derek hasmoved back into town. He brings him a housewarming gift. Derek makes food.Things escalate from there.

~~

Parallax by uraneia:

Parallax: noun. Theeffect whereby the position or direction of an object appears to differ whenviewed from different positions, e.g., through the viewfinder and the lens of acamera.

With the pack (and Stiles) starting college, Derek is bored. Heneeds a hobby–or a job. Which is how he comes to model for Alpha Studios.

He just neverthought Stiles would end up working there too.

~~

Occam’s Razorby MissAnnThropic:

When Stiles goes to sleep, he’s ajunior in high school. He wakes up in a world where he’s twenty-four andmarried to Derek Hale. Stiles just can’t seem to catch a break.

Readalso: Stepping Off the Razor’sEdge which is a lot of healing for both our boys and beautiful.

~~

The Truth Is by BulletBlaze:

“Well, you should get going then-”“You could come around some time-”A pause.“Wait, what?”A blush bloomed across Derek’s cheeks, barely visible overthe top of his beard. He shrugged again.“If you wanted to. You could stop by while I’m fixing it up.Help me with some things. If you wanted to.”“You already said that,” Stiles, the idiot, mumbled indisbelief.Derek’s blush grew a shade darker.

~~

There’s a martyr in my bedtonight but it’s alright by crossroadwrite:

It’s a beautiful afternoon, and Derek is standing at a dusty gasstation, staring helplessly at the destroyed remains of the last thing hissister left him.

(OR: In which Derekexpects nothing from life, but with a little help from the Stilinskis getseverything.)

[wheelthefridge]

in honor of last night having been my last ever shift dishwashing at the same restaurant i’ve been at for the past four years here’s an absurdly long list of random chaotic moments that literally no one asked for that i’ve been compiling since day one:

bj, with a half full gallon of orange juice: this expired two months ago. *pours down drain* that was a long time ago

sam: YOU! I HAVE A BONE TO PICK WITH YOU!! *carries on normally with no explanation* bj: smack that! that too! smack those vegetables! punch that burger in the nose! chop that bun! bob: no, flick the bun. you have to flick it. 

*bad and boujee playing* bj: walks into kitchen, singing bj: you better know when to hold em, know when to fold em, know when to walk away, know when to run bj: walks out of kitchen, still singing

me: hey can you put the wet floor sign out for me dylan: sure dylan: *slips while putting the sign out* me:

sam: get this- i haven’t smoked pot in like three days and my brain is ready to roll! yeah!

joe: ha! oldest trick in the book i just started writing 

dude @bar: ten percent of people are over 6'1" other dude: what about 6'2"  dude 1: what? no. ten percent of people are OVER 6'1" - so that includes 6'2" dude 2: idk I know a lot of tall guys. taller than me dude 1: what? i’m saying- just- ten percent of everyone in the whole world- you know how many people there are in the world? 7 billion– dude 2: i thought it was six billion  dude 1: no, 7 billion- ten percent of 7 billion—

joe, digging through the trash: i’m just gonna peruse through here,, aaaaannnd….. nope not here me: what’re u looking for Joe: …..a book

didi: is eating a pistachio  katherine: is that sour cream

sam: some dirty whorebag wants two pickles 

joe: sam she am. that’s right. dr seuss wrote a book about her 

katherine: oh my goddd this song is always on i’m so tired of it joe: is it? i don’t think i’ve heard it before carolyn: eh it’s all just one long brazilian song to me

katherine: look at my straw i put it in the pencil sharpener 

sam: i’m on crack cocaine. you heard it here

sam, aggressively putting silverware in the tray: just the way the cookie crumbles me: yeah? sam, fake crying: yes

adele: if you’re ready- sam: what if I’m not bob: too bad. she only cares if she’s ready

something: *breaks* sam: time for the mop. and by mop i mean… this thing *holds up dustpan*

mike: you should go on junior master chef…. and only make fries 

sam, quietly as she speedwalks by me: panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic

sam, beginning of the night: my goal is to make at least forty bucks tonight. hopefully sixty sam, later that night: i’ve made five dollars

sam, pouring a drink into the trash right next to the sink: you know, im not sure why i poured that in the trash. i’ve had a very off day

katherine, after accidentally spraying salsa on herself: i just sprayed salsa all over myself bj: i feel like that too sometimes. i love salsa so much

sam: can you imagine if i did like hardcore drugs how messed up i would be- i’m messed up soberly

someone: what’re you supposed to feed twenty kids  kerry: pizza bj: vodka 

sam: will you let bob know there’s gonna be seven in the snug bj: seven in the snug? that’s my band name. we’re really good

edson: *spins cover on counter and stares at it for solid thirty seconds before putting his finger down to stop it* edson: good. 

sam: what should i draw bj: you should draw casey, hanging from a cliff, with a pterodactyl flying towards them who is on fire, but, seems optimistic about it 

bj: life is too short for low fat cheese. remember that. 

sam, beginning of night, in a really good mood: guess what i’m drunk and high right now  sam, later that night: i was just pouring a beer and i dropped it. like my hand just let go of it sam, end of night: i’m never doing this again 

joe: you know who didn’t clock out yet?? i have two thumbs! joe: ……wait joe: you know who has two thumbs and hasn’t clocked out yet?? this guy!! me: there ya go buddy

bob: i’ve slept fifteen hours in the past four days me: that’s not good bob: yeah

edson: look edson: *holds out hand with top spinning in his palm* *giggles*

sam: i cannot wait for this day to be over  me: it’s barely started  sam: i took a shot before i got here. i have more in my car

bob: hi sam sam: hi bob  didi: hi sam sam: fuck off

joe: her? oh yeah her name is sarah whitaker  katherine: oh i think i know her joe: that’s funny because i just made that up. i’m willing to bet money that she’s nineteen tho me: why joe: bc i overheard her say that she’s nineteen

joe: i’m gonna send you a video but you can’t watch it now it’s needs full attention with headphones and the lights off 

bj: if you lose your hand, don’t replace it with a fork. that would be a bad choice. i know it’s probably the cheapest option, right up there with stick, but just spend the money. 

bj, on a different day: i think if you were to get your hands cut off, getting them replaced with plates would be a very bad idea. you can dig. and you can toss. but that’s about it. no playing the saxophone.  

colby: *doesn’t show up to work* bj: maybe i should leave him a message of just me crying 

katherine: i think an old man just asked me to live with him

sam: wait *pulls celery strings out of her mouth* that just came out of my throat

bob: i’m such a grump tonight. i’m in a good mood i’m just so grumpy.  bob: maybe i’m not in a good mood…

bj, after sending christa downstairs to get liquor for the bar: i put a live cobra down there too so… if she comes back with it dead in her hands…. she’s a champ. and that’s that. 

bj: i had a dog today did you have a dog? me: no bj: oh. well. 

dylan, holding phone camera at joe: hey joe can you pull ur shirt down joe, pulling the collar of his shirt halfway down his chest: yeah like this? dylan, taking picture: yeah thanks 

bj: HI-YAH carley: you’re a ninja!! bj: yes. don’t be alarmed. i only use my powers for good. 

bj, with one bottle in each hand, pouring water in the sink, mimicking cow milking motions: it’s like a cow. mooooooeeeeeeuuuuuhhhhhhgggg aaaaaauuuuuueuejhshhsii. that’s what cows sound like right?

bj: we have a dog, and we’re getting chickens. i’m not really sure why were getting chickens. do i consider myself a farmer? not really. 

bj: we should make a youtube channel of just me saying really random things to you and you not responding to me whatsoever me: mhmm

nancy: I’m sleeping

sam: *pours drink out on counter next to sink* sam: wHAT the FuCK was that!? why did i do that?? i’ve lost it! i’ve hit rock bottom!!

sam: *bends over* ughhhhhhhhhhhhh *straightens up* ok i’m fine

bj: yum! that’s how i rate the soup. two yums up!! *laughs for like a full minute*

sam: i got my motorcycle license over the weekend and now all everyone’s saying to me is “no don’t get a motorcycle they’re so dangerous” like shut the fuck up if i die i die it’s my choice 

bj: i think if i were to be turned into some kind of commercial type of food, if i got turned into a nugget, i think i’d be indignant. i’ve lived my whole life and now i’m a nugget??? “oh i was a great roasted-“ i was a nugget. i was eaten with fries out of a box with a small soda. 

bj: hello everybody. i have arrived. please remain calm.  bob: *screams*

radio: the fastest lawn mower in the world goes up to 150 miles per hour! bob: …….why??

sam: i just meowed in scotty’s face and he was completely unfazed by it. like a full on Meow. 

bob: lemme just touch these live wires with my wet hands  bj: bob has gone offline

katherine: i totally forgot to put their order in for i don’t even know how long me: ……..i’m sure it’ll be fine katherine: i mean, nothing matters, right? right. nothing matters. 

bj: hey did you guys hear that kate: yeah what was that bj: oh i was just yelling……….. about the soup kate: me: katherine: bj: i’ll try to keep it down next time

bob: you sleep a lot when you’re old. it’s just practice for death. getting ready for The Big Sleep. let’s see how do i wanna go out? on my back?? nah not for me. on my front babey! 

didi: hi sam sam: SHUT UP didi, quieter: okay…… sam: i love you  didi: no bj: so you’re a grownup now. that’s means you have to do grown up things, like, pay for dinner and stuff? me: uh huh bj: it’s all downhill from here 

bj: pon pon the van poco. right? me: mhmm bj: probably. i mean. i’m no doctor, but

random woman @ bar: we are the matrix. We. Are. The Matrix. 

bj, to the tune of frosty the snowman: clunkity clunk clunk clunkity clunk clunk look at all this stuff. clunkity clunk clunk clunkity clunk clunk making casey’s job tough! pretty good right?? i just made it up 

bj: *walks into kitchen* YES! that’s all i have to say. that’s it. BOBS killing it. DIDIS killing it. casey MURDERED it. you’re welcome. *walks out of kitchen* bj: today is the second day in a row my dog has eaten my lunch. yesterday and then today. it’s my own fault really bob: well you know what they say about men who like floppy french fries. *doesn’t elaborate*

sam: there’s a toy baby in my section. like just a toy baby taking up a seat in my section. what do i do like do i move the bitch? do i leave her there??

bob, talking to himself: if you get sick tomorrow, just remember. it’s your own fault for eating food off the floor. 

bob, to katherine: no, you don’t have to mop the carpet

bj: cheeeesy. 

laura: if i get through tonight without a heart attack it’ll be incredible. if i do have a heart attack tho just let me go

caldo: *unintelligible yelling* SELLING my BODY for SEX *more unintelligible yelling*

bob: my fathers brother sent all his kids to australia. i guess he figured at least one of them would make it

caldo: i don’t trust people who go out to eat tuna fish

bob: can you make some more guacamole soon we’re running low laura: pulls five (5) avocados from her pockets 

bob: he looks like jesus. well. he looks like what white people think jesus looked like

sam: yeah. Please. eat some more mother Fucking crackers. 

bj: i feel like i gave birth to the eggplant stacks tonight. and honestly? if my child looked like that? i’d be proud. proud to have an eggplant child

bj: alright everybody let’s get the fuf out of here!! i said fuf not f- it’s safe. f u f starts and ends with soft letters no one gets hurt. any word that starts with a soft letter and ends with a hard letter is bad news… i feel like every time i come in here i annoy you guys. casey’s one dumbass comment away from killing me. “hey so what are your thoughts on grass?” “that’s it” *mimics shooting a gun*

ilia: -and the dogs gonna get diabetes- katherine, indignantly: i cleaned it really well!

mickey: i’ll tell you one thing. crack is good. 

sam: some lady just rolled up to the bar, no bra, nipples beamin through the shirt- LETS GET IT!!!!

caldo: *speed walks into kitchen and shotguns a beer over the trash* ok i’m back. i should not have smoked this morning

dom: little kid just picked up a knife and went “oh cool i can stab someone” me, katherine, and sam in unison: good dom: yeah the dad took it away 

sam: my friend was like “why is your go to dance move just to snap” and i was like “i don’t know, i’m white” *shrugs*

bj: someone just asked me if i’m having fun. am i having fun? i don’t know if i’m having fun. there are certainly other things i’d rather be doing right now, but i don’t know if i can definitively say that i’m Not having fun. 

bj: some jobs require Only a ladle bj, thirty seconds later, after walking away and coming back: sometimes, also a funnel

bj, @ laura who’s eating cornbread: you cornbread eating chef!!!  laura: bj: laura: bj: i’m just saying facts in a weird way. you know like you’re in trouble. 

sam: *war cry* *spits out gum* *walks away*

bj: what kind of smoothie? Soup Smoothie!!

katherine: so this woman ordered some hot water so i gave it to her and her husband says you know what that’s for right and i’m like ….to drink? and he says nope! and doesn’t explain so i’m just like ………..okay! and walk away bc i don’t even want to know 

bj: there’s no shame in it! A Grown Man Can Bathe In Yogurt!!!

bj, leaning down very close to to-go box: i love you

bob: anyone want a drink? brian: whatever’s your strongest bob: milk it is

guy at bar: sUE HIM?!?!??? oh i’d sue him yeah

sam: who orders something extra cold?? like, you need to Die now thanks. 

sam: do you dare me to drink this buffalo sauce me: yes laura, walking by: snort it

sam: one more day. just one more day laura: of what sam: waking up

bob: *is trying to explain easter to jewish laura* laura: wait so he died… then he came back to life?? then he died Again??? bob: he died. then he came back just to tell people he was alive. then he said SEE YA and ascended to heaven

sam: i HATE margaritas. i don’t know why i just made myself one. 

bob: wow. i have this overpowering urge to just go home. 

bj, putting back a slotted spoon: this is a bad choice for dressing. a bad choice. 

me: *catches a plate about to fall* bj: woah! smooth moves!! spider-man? maybe. 

danny: so you know how at my other job everyone calls me daddy?

sam: *dumps out two full wine glasses* i fucked up. tell no one. 

me: remember when we used to be able to leave early? bob: no. i think we imagined it. 

danny: i didn’t realize we served DICK here -a few min later- danny: sorry i just got out of work and i’m all fired up

sam: my moms drunk and she won’t go home

bob: hey wasn’t that slang for mari- bj: cocaine. 

bj: *kicks kitchen door open* YEE-HAW!!!!

danny: sorry casey  me: what for  danny: for having to deal with me me: yeah *shrugs* danny: they should pay you more me: yeah

didi: i kill you ilia: do it now didi: no ilia: do it i wanna die

danny, about a burger: we’ve got ourselves a squirter!!

sam: is that a chicken patty  sydney: it’s my dog

sam, on my last night with her: lets get casey TRASHED tonight

sam: are you gonna go dancing in new york didi: yes laura: whore it up

[moralanxietystudio]

“An RPG / Visual Novel / text adventure hybrid” is a mouthful - Roadwarden Devlog

In her Rock, Paper, Shotgun article, Jay Castello has mentioned:

The game’s genre is purposefully fluid. On (...) Studio’s website, the top frequently asked question says “I can’t figure out what is this game’s genre,” to which they’ve cheerfully replied “Me neither.”

When I mention Roadwarden in my Facebook posts or on Twitter, I usually struggle describing it. I keep saying things like “RPG / Visual Novel / text adventure hybrid”, but it’s not very... marketable. I like to use “interactive fiction”, which is arguably correct and sounds fine, but it doesn’t explain well what the player does in the game.

The main goal of this post is to sink deeper into this topic: how could we label Roadwarden? And what it actually is?

By the way, during the next couple of days I want to update the game’s demo. It’s going to be awesome.

Why am I looking for a label?

Why is the label important? Is it just because it’s convenient for social media ads?

When we categorize a game, we also set up the player’s expectations. If we call a game an endless runner, we make a promise. We claim that it’ll be easy to learn and hard to master, with a very stable pacing, without pointless plot and accessible from your phone. Sure, some endless runners can diverse from this premise or even completely fail at executing it, but making this label is an act of communication. Here is what I have to offer. Are yo interested?

And while Roadwarden fits into various definitions of specific genres, it makes promises that are not as commonly associated with its labels. It has an experimental approach to role-playing. Violence, that’s always plot-related and significant, not grindy. Exploration of a grim, detailed and consistent setting, but not a very heroic one. Dialogues used as the core of the experience, not just a tool. Humble adventures of a regular person in a world that overwhelms it. And I try to avoid common tropes in my story.

And I never ask myself “is it OK to add this new feature? after all, it’s not popular in this genre!”. I add everything that helps me make a better game. I put the experience above the marketing convenience.

A term “video game RPG” is famous for being a very vague label, pretty much impossible to define. It’s one of the most diverse branches of gaming. Every person plays RPGs for different reasons, thou we could probably make a list like 1) a complex story with possible side quests, 2) some character progression (both story-wise and through XP-like mechanics), 3) combat and exploration. If you prefer western games, you’ll probably enjoy 4) having important decisions. And you probably like 5) fantasy, eventually science-fiction with fantasy elements.

Sure, there’s a lot of variety - we have action RPGs, text-based RPGs, tactical RPGs, dungeon crawlers, rouge-likes... It’s really weird that the same label somehow covers The Witcher 3, Undertale, Final Fantasy VI and Wizardry from 1981, yet not Far Cry Primal, but that’s because these games are classified by an objective definition of a genre. We just try to say: “if you like X, you may also like Y. they’re kind of similar”.

Roadwarden as an RPG

When I develop Roadwarden I’m interested in things that most RPGs consider unimportant. And I don’t mean something like “I care about story, and These Other Games are all about combat”! That would be a silly statement. But I put an emphasis on aspects of the story which are often marginalized.

For example, in most RPGs you simply kill things (in self-defense!) and grind XP to get stronger. You can kill 10 packs of wolves and 25 boars and it means absolutely nothing. You’re just overcoming a barrier while trying to get a new level or reach the other side of the forest. Killing these enemies won’t be considered animal cruelty. Won’t destroy the balance of the nearby forests. Won’t starve the villagers. These animals are not Really a part of the story.

In Roadwarden, bandits don’t randomly spawn and die without influencing the plot. They are not some random loot waiting to drop on the floor for the player’s convenience. They have families, friends, goals, story behind them. They don’t want to kill you - they want your stuff. And they’ll try to rob you only if they know you can’t beat them. Without an unfair advantage they wouldn’t put themselves at risk.

In my game, violence means something. Nobody here dreams about it, aside of the most terrible, wicked people. Every death leaves a void, and void should be haunting.

In most RPGs you find a tavern, buy a potion and leave. In Roadwarden you spend 15 minutes talking to the innkeeper, and he’s not there just to give you a quest. He wants to know more about you. He wants to know what news you’re bringing. And if you can be trusted.

Also, potions in this game are rare and have taste. And aroma.

Your character isn’t going to have one hundred thousand coins at the end of the game, nor murder two thousand creatures to save a village inhabited by 30 NPCs. They characters are not waiting for The Chosen One or a master of martial marts that can save them. You’re just someone who tries to change your own life by doing something risky, in a realm that’s filled with people who don’t even know if they want you here.

Your character is a part of the world they live in. And I think most RPGs don’t do a good work reflecting this idea. Immersion should be something more than the constant pursue of better graphics, cinematics and more “freedom”.

So while Roadwarden is still a game that includes combat, trade, exploration, unlocking new abilities and building your character, it’s all put in a new context. And there’s a good chance that a portion of RPG fans wouldn’t be satisfied with something this different. I try to encourage them to take a look... But I don’t want anyone to feel cheated.

Roadwarden as a Visual Novel

Roadwarden may also not be a perfect fit for many Visual Novel fans, even though it involves a lot of narration, descriptions and dialogues supported by limited visuals. Roadwarden has fewer gameplay elements than most RPGs, but way more than most VNs - it even introduces simple survival mechanics.

Also, the story is non-linear - it’s very complex (what doesn’t mean “long”) and modified by how the player moves around the map. Many VNs introduce story branching, but I’m pushing it unusually far. And, of course, Roadwarden has way more choices than most VNs, even though some of these choices are focused on role-playing alone and don’t impact the game’s mechanics.

Not only that, but the visual style and the lack of common tropes that are appealing for the core VN-fanbase can be a big problem. I was even asked a couple of times if my game will involve any romantic relationships. Sure, there are successful VNs that don’t involve porn (VA-11 Hall-A), romance (Ace Attorney), manga-style drawings (Cinders), nor Best Girls, so I’m not saying it’s impossible to make one and prosper. But it’s playing against the odds.

All these things push me into being very careful here, and I usually feel that I should say something like “it’s a Visual Novel, BUT...”

Roadwarden as an adventure game

So let’s make a step back. There’s an argument to be made that Visual Novels are a sub-genre of (or rather, an evolution of) a more interactive label. Here’s how Wikipedia defines the adventure games:

(...) a video game in which the player assumes the role of a protagonist in an interactive story driven by exploration and puzzle-solving.

That works, doesn’t it? It’s also fair to say that such a definition is very vague and doesn’t even exclude RPGs or games like Half-Life. Quest for Glory series, for example, is usually considered to have “RPG elements” or gets classified as a hybrid of both an adventure game and an RPG.

This vagueness opens adventure games for many subgenres, and Roadwarden graciously falls into a couple of them at once. It has scenes with text parsers, typical for interactive fiction, but its advanced dialogue choices could even categorize it as digital gamebook (CYOA-like). Probably a better option for us is a “graphic adventure game”, since there are Some graphics and few ways to interact with the game - parsers, in-game “buttons”, dialogue choices.

I have a pleasure to be a part of few adventure game communities and there’s usually a small range of titles that are constantly mentioned as the “classic” adventure games. Point & clicks (Monkey Island, Grim Fandango), graphic games with parsers commands (King’s Quest), sometimes games like Myst...

Text adventure games, while accepted, are not really discussed often. And it’s difficult to make silly memes about them, so they are a bit obsolete. However, a group focused specifically on text adventure games really doesn’t care about graphics.

It feels to me like there Should be a spectrum of graphics vs. text, and of visible interface vs. text parsers. But it’s not the case. Text adventures and graphic adventures are almost in different worlds - not because of what they are, but rather because of what communities surround them. And, once again, Roadwarden is in between. It’s not just a hybrid of an RPG and an adventure game, it’s also a hybrid of a text adventure game and a graphic adventure game.

Roadwarden is a hybrid, and that’s not sexy

In conclusion, here are some of the genres that I think are strongly present in Roadwarden:

· RPG;

· Visual Novel;

· text adventure game;

· graphic adventure game;

· digital gamebook.

Also, I heard opinions that “it feels a lot like a tabletop RPG”. What makes me happy, since it’s intentional.

Some of my game’s features are not exclusive to any specific genre. All of the labels I’ve listed tend to be story-heavy and support their plot with dialogues (or even narration), often include inventory management, allow you to role-play a protagonist and tend to use fantasy settings. Others, however, are genre specific: parsers, open world exploration, mechanically progressing protagonist, simplified visuals, resource management...

Roadwarden is a hybrid, what means it’s going to have a problem appealing to fans of a specific genre. Yet, at the same time, it’s a game that’s not restricted by its labels - and I don’t think genres should limit our designs. My game can include all the things it needs. It can be unusual, experiment and creatively look for new ways to explore.

I just hope I can earn your trust.

[lassluna]

Let the Stars Remind You (4/?)

“It’s ok Papa, you don’t have to worry. We can trust her, she’s just like me,” She says holding his hand. “She can hear the stars. She’s just like me.” she repeats, a look of wonder on her face, pure belief in what she’s saying. Killian looks down at her. His little girl, his Starfish, and isn’t sure. He still isn’t sure if rescuing Emma Swan is the best thing he’s ever done, or their undoing.

AN: I've literally been trying to post this all day, but between real life, and internet it's been a struggle. The next chapter is practically done, so hopefully that should be up relatively soon.

FF Ao3

“Your leg looks better.” He says casually, her leg across his lap, bandage removed. The wound is still red and messy, but he can see clear sign of healing.

“No infection, which is a miracle.” He continues. It really is lucky since he wasn’t exactly supplied with antibiotics in his first aid kit. Emma shrugs, arms crossed and turned slightly away from him.

“Must be the salt water.” She reasons. From what Killian can tell, it’ll definitely need more time before she can put much weight on it without pain, but it definitely looks better than he expected, it had only been about two days since Emma had gotten the injury.  She pulls her leg away, grabbing the bandages off the table and making a clear indication that she does not require his help with the next part.

“Must be.” He agrees. He’s trying to catch a glance from her, a look, anything. He wants anything to indicate to him what the hell last night meant. It’s not unusual for him to be confused by Emma Swan, but for once he wants to figure out exactly what this is between them. Killian wants to understand exactly what’s been drawing him towards her so strongly.

(He wants to know if she feels it to.)

However, this time it appears that she is the one trying to avoid him, or at least as well as one can being forced to share a home as small as his.

It makes him wonder if he read the situation earlier all wrong. Perhaps he made her uncomfortable, thinking she wanted something when that wasn’t her intention. He hopes he didn’t ruin everything.

He gets up from his seat on the couch rather quickly. If she hadn’t wanted their almost kiss to occur, then Killian thinks it’s best to just get out of her space as quickly as possible.

But he also can’t help but remember the way she said his name, the way she’d moved closer too.

He imagined it; only possible explanation.

“Water’s ready.” Alice calls out. Killian almost forgot about dinner. He’d set the water to boil hoping to make something quick and easy with the second to last jar of sauce he had. He uses the task to settle his confusion, to focus his unsettled mind. Killian feels like a bloody teenager again, trying to figure out if the girl likes him.

Liam would be teasing him relentlessly if he was here. He’d be saying his typical, “A man who doesn’t fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets” nonsense.

“Papa, water’s overflowing.” Alice says calmly, watching as Killian stares off into space once more. She’s right of course; the bubbling water starts to overflow out of the top of the pot. He removes the top, letting the steam release.

He’s going to burn the bloody lighthouse down if he doesn’t get Emma Swan out of his bloody head.

“Need some help?” Emma asks.

“No.” He says quickly. “Just- stay off that leg, dinner will be ready shortly.” He doesn’t need more distractions right about now.

“Are you ok Papa?” Alice asks just as he finishes; bowls of pasta are placed at the table “You seem distracted.”

He smiles at his insightful daughter, ruffling her blonde curls.

“Just thinking Alice.” He assures her. “I’m going to go help Emma and then we can eat.”

Alice looks unconvinced.

“I’m fine.” Emma says when he does go to help her. She half limps half jumps towards the kitchen table. He lets her, just remaining at her side in case she does need assistance. “I don’t need help.” She nearly snaps, finally arriving at her destination.

He sighs in irritation. He really messed something up.

“Are you two fighting again?” Alice asks.

Both their heads snap towards her. Emma shakes her head as he answers. “No Al, it’s nothing” He says. “Let’s just eat dinner already.”

Alice rolls her eyes, huffing as she sits. “You can tell me Papa, I’m not a child.”

He snickers, nearly seven years old and already grown up. Killian can’t imagine what he will do when she reaches her teenage years.

He won’t have to worry about her running off with some boy if they’re still here hiding in the woods…

              “You’re always going to be my little Starfish Alice.” He assures her. She huffs again, turning away from him, eating her food in silence.

Now Alice is ignoring him. He’s doing absolutely splendid in the female department today.

//

              The dishes are put away in record time, and in complete silence.

              It’s unnerving if he was being honest, his little chatter bug usually can’t do the silent treatment for more than a couple of minutes. But that’s usually when it’s just him.

              Today she has Emma to talk to and the return of the Stars. What does she need her mean Papa for then? Right now she was getting a new game from her closet for her and Emma to play until bedtime.

              Killian knows he’s being silly, but parenting is hard.

It was moments like these that Killian wished Eloise wasn’t a total monster. He’d like to ask someone else what they thought about things right about now. He’d like a co-parent to do this with, a woman to teach Alice how to grow up a confident independent woman, understand her in all the ways he can’t. Killian tries his best, tries to make her happy and self-reliant, let her do things for herself, but always trying to be there for her no matter what.

He’s probably doing it all wrong.

“Are you ok?” Emma asks, breaking him through his thoughts. “You’ve been scrubbing that bowl so hard I think you’re going to break it.” She explains. Killian looks down at the item; he’d completely forgotten it was even there.

“I thought you were ignoring me.” He mutters under his breath, he tries not to sound bitter but he fails miserably. He rinses the bowl. He’s honestly surprised that Emma broke before Alice.

“I thought I’d give you a break,” She says casually. “Since you’re thinking so loudly, come on tell me what’s up.”

He dries the bowl. “It’s nothing, I’m fine.” He replies automatically. Emma raises a brow, reading him instantly. “I don’t want to get into it right now, maybe after you finish playing chutes and ladders with Alice.” He says. “I’ll try to think quieter thoughts.”

He really just hopes she’ll forget about it.

Killian glances upstairs, and doesn’t see Alice peeking back, nor hear her feet pounding against the floorboards. He knows Alice is ignoring him, but his daughter is quiet, too quiet. It concerns him.

“Killian…” Emma says trailing off.

“Hold on, I should check on her.” He says, moving towards the stairs.

“Killian, I’m really just trying to help.” He shakes his head. He’s not avoiding the conversation, not this time. He’s getting a bad feeling in his gut and it’s only growing by the second. He can usually see a bit of her room from this position. He doesn’t see his daughter.

“Alice!” He calls. Nothing, not a peep, not a single sound indicating she heard him. And he knew for a fact she could hear him. He slowly goes up the stairs. “Alice?” He asks again.

Bloody hell. He curses. The room is empty, and the window is open. “Bloody hell.” He says out loud this time, he doesn’t believe it. He looks in her closet, under her bed, through her pile of laundry, anywhere she would hide just to get a rise out of him.

But she doesn’t do things like that, do things to get a rise out of him, sure they disagree, but Alice knows better.

“This isn’t funny Alice.” He says sternly worry leaking into his voice.

She’s gone.

“Bloody hell.” He says again, wasting no time, running down the stairs and towards the door. Only one thought filling his head.

Find Alice.

“Killian what happened?” Emma calls, stopping him momentarily before he leaves the lighthouse.

He hesitates only briefly. Killian needs to leave, he needs to find her before the panic sets in, before his mind starts to conjure horrible scenarios for how this ends.

“Alice is gone, I think she snuck out.” He explains in a rush. “I need to go find her, it’s going to be dark soon and I need to go find her.” He hears Emma gasp in surprise.

“What can I do?” She asks, determination in her eyes. “I’d offer to go look but…” She gestures to her leg. He nods in understanding. He suddenly gets an idea.

He goes to his room, rummaging through one of the boxes where he keeps emergency supplies. It takes barely a minute for him to find what he’s looking for. He tosses one at Emma once he returns to the living room.

“A walkie talkie?” She says looking at the device in her hand.

“For emergencies.” He replies. “If she gets back while I’m out looking just call me back.” He explains. “Tell her everything is alright, that I’m not mad, that…” He trails off. He doesn’t know and suddenly feels the panic welling up in his gut.

But Emma seems to get the idea, she smiles kindly at him, her gaze steadying him “It’s going to be ok Killian, you’ll find her or she’ll find you.” Emma says. It fills him with a sense of warmth and belief in her words. “That’s what family does.”

Without another word he ventures out into the forest, listing off Alice’s favorite places in his head.

//

She’s not at the beach, or her bunny shed, or at either of the places they occasionally run into wild deer or that field that once had fireflies. The traps are all undisturbed, which means she either avoided them or didn’t pass the parameter he’d set.

(He can see the sky getting steadily darker)

Killian checks the cliffs he’d made Alice swear never to go near, and the area of that really tall oak that Alice always wants to climb, but Killian always says is too dangerous. Eventually he runs out of places, so he starts rechecking them, looking for any clue, any sign that Alice had been there.

There had been no word from Emma.

(The sun is setting and all he can think about are the animals that come out at night, the dangerous ones, the vicious ones he’s only seen on documentaries.)

Alice had been missing for hours now, and he had no bloody idea where she is.

He started to swear and pray to whoever was out there that he’d do anything if he got his daughter back if she was safe and returned to him unharmed. She was only 6 years old, turning seven soon. She shouldn’t be alone in the woods so long, anything could happen.

(Could this have all been avoided if he’d stayed in Seattle? If he’d dealt with all of this the proper way? Sure it would have taken longer, but then she wouldn’t be lost in the woods right now…)

Killian didn’t know what he would do if anything happened to her. She was his entire world.

And then, like a gift from God himself, the walkie-talkie buzzed to life.

“Killian? Are you there?”

He fumbled for it, nearly dropping the device before gripping it tightly.

“I’m here.” He replies. Please. Please. Please.

“I have someone here who wants to talk to you.” She says softly. He damn near cries out in relief. He tries to keep his voice level as he responds into the walkie, already turning around on his way home.

“Alice?” He says. “Is that you love?” He walks as fast as he can, clutching the little device to his chest.

“I’m sorry Papa.” Alice replies, her voice shaking, he can tell she’s near tears if not already crying. “Please come home. Please Papa. Please.”

He breaks into a run.

“It’s alright Starfish. I’m on my way.” He says breathlessly. “It’s going to be alright.” He can hear his daughter whimper, and the distinct sound of Emma cooing softly to her, sweet words of reassurance.

“See? I told you he’s not mad.” He hears Emma say.  “We’ll be here when you get here Killian.”

//

He barely remembers the rest of the run home; all he remembers is practically slamming open the door, seeing his daughter curled up in a blanket with Emma.

“Alice.” He breathes, out of breath. She picks up her head and looks at him. Her eyes are tear stained, but the second she meets his eyes, she breaks down into tears once more.

“Papa.” She says in a watery sob. He’s by her side in minutes, rocking her back and forth as his daughter cries. “I’m sorry.” She keeps saying at various intervals. He shushes her, soothing her as best he can. He doesn’t understand why she ran off, why she was like this now.

But he just patiently held her waiting for her to calm. She does eventually, calmly settling against him.

“Are you ok Alice? Are you hurt?” He asks. He doesn’t notice any visible markings, but he keeps looking anyway. Alice shakes her head. “What happened Al? You know you can’t run off like that.” He responds, gently he doesn’t want to make her cry again, but she needs to know what she did was wrong.

“I didn’t mean to honest, but I-the Stars and…” she trails off, voice quieting to a whisper. “I think I’m having one of my bad days Papa.” She tells him.

He nods. “I know sweetie. It’ll be alright.” He tells her. “You’re home and safe and that’s all that matters.”

Alice nods into his chest. “Do you think we can play a little chess?” She asks in a small voice. “It helps sometimes.” He knows, he remembers.

“So I boiled some water…” Emma says. It surprises him, he hugs Alice close as he turns around to see her sitting in a chair, the kettle on the stove near boiling. “But I have no idea where you keep mugs, let alone teabags…” He smiles gratefully at her. Killian knows tea and chess, two of her favorite things will definitely calm Alice down.

“Thanks Swan.” He says. “How about it Alice? Would you like some tea?” He asks. Alice doesn’t jump at the opportunity like she usually does, but Killian does see her blue eyes sparkle.

They spend the rest of evening each with a cup of tea and trading off between chess and checkers (for Emma’s sake) he even brought out a few marmalade sandwiches.

//

Killian tucks her in a little earlier than usual, but she’s already exhausted so he decides she needs her rest. He reads to her two stories instead of one and decides to stay right there with her until she falls asleep.

He stays a little bit after just to be sure, just until he hears her deep snores she always makes, watches as she twists and turns and eventually spread her limbs out to the point of covering the entire bed.

When he knows he can put off leaving her side no further he retreats downstairs with a silent promise to check up on her once more before he goes to bed.

(The panic he felt over not knowing where his daughter was had yet to subside, first his nightmare and then this, Killian doesn’t think he’s ever going to sleep again.)

But Emma’s downstairs, a calm sense of warmth on her face, she looks relieved and comfortable. He wishes he could feel as relaxed as she looks.

“Did she go to sleep alright?” Emma asks. Killian nods.

“I could barely tear myself away from her side.” He admitted. “I can’t believe she disappeared like that. I’ve never been so terrified in my life.”

(He has been, but the situation had been all too similar)

Emma nods in agreement. “Are you going to punish her?” She asks.

Killian had thought about it, and decided against it. “She seemed to have punished herself enough over it.” He recalls. “I don’t see a need to add to it.” Another nod from Emma.

“You know she’s just pushing your limits.” Emma says, she panics slightly and then rephrases. “I mean that’s what I used to do.” He raises a brow.

“You ran away at 6 years old?” He asks.

Emma shrugs. “From foster homes.” She clarifies. “I never had anyone out looking for me.” She says casually. “She’s lucky to have you.” He doesn’t really believe that. He knows that she’d be better off with someone better than him, a set of two parents without his baggage and issues. Better parents wouldn’t have her living isolated from the world in a lighthouse.

But this was the hand they’d been dealt.

“I honestly have no idea what I’m doing.” He admits. “I didn’t have the best parents growing up.” Killian sees Emma’s eyes watching him, expression unreadable. She lets him continue, so he does.

“Our mother died when I was little, our father was a drunk after that, disappear most days, forget about us entirely when he wasn’t yelling and blaming us for her death.” Emma nods in understanding.

“My brother practically raised me, he was the only role model I ever had and even then…” He trails off. “I never felt good enough, I always fell just short of him; I was second best to my older brother’s better ways.” He doesn’t want Alice to feel like that, the bar placed too far for her to ever reach.

“You’re doing a good job Killian, I can tell, I-“ She hesitates. “I ran away from my foster home and stole a car when I was seventeen.” She practically blurts out. “My now ex-boyfriend was living in it at the time, he stole it too.” Her smile turns sad. “It was a yellow Volkswagen bug, I loved that car. We lived out of it for a while…but I never had anyone running after me, no one came to find me”

She looks sad at the memory, before looking back at Killian, determination in her gaze. “But Alice has you, you know what the first thing she said when she came through that door?” He shakes his head. “She asked for you. She wanted you there, to comfort her, to tell her it was going to be ok. You’re a good Dad Killian. Give yourself a little credit.”

He smiles at that. He smiles at the feeling of someone telling him what he was doing was enough.

He smiles at Emma and silently hopes that maybe when this was all over Emma could just stay.

Tagging: @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @branlovesouat @celestial-fire-writer @therooksshiningknight @kmomof4

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S1 Ep 40 PART 1/2: So Much Random Stuff Happens That It Requires Two Parts

Most of the time, Yugioh’s plot is delivered in nice, bizarre, bite-sized segments, offset by duels that I skip. But then, in this episode they decided “Hey, we should drop some plot. Like a lot of REALLY WACKY plot.”

And thus we have an episode with over 80 caps. So, this’ll be a two-parter! The other part will show up later. Like...when we finish it.

Also, despite the fact that this is probably one of the more important episodes of the season, it has quite some damage on the recording on Netflix. You’ll see that it isn’t really cropped right on the sides, and in some parts it’s got motion blur I couldn’t avoid. One day, Yugioh will get it’s Sailor Moon remaster, but this is not the day. Also, if they redubbed Yugioh, it would be an absolute tragedy, but that’s a different story.

TL;DR Forgive the massive amount of text in the upcoming recaps. There’s just so much they did and I uh...didn’t want this to end up being over 100 caps this episode alone.

So, lets get into it: The Yugi crew is looking for Pegasus.

For some reason, Tea suddenly remembers what went down the night before and decides “I bet Pegasus is hiding in that spooky tower we don’t actually know how to get into because we climbed it with a grappling hook.”

(Sometimes I get used to Yugi’s eyeliner and then they throw a shot like this at me and it’s like DAMN, Yugi, when did you have time to apply that stiletto heel to your face? Like most of the time I’m just put off by the awful hair and then the rest of the time I’m just really jealous of this emo boy’s wings.)

With that they suddenly remembered...the other stuff.

(read more under the cut)

I like how Joey is just so incredibly fed up with magic at this point. Out of all of them, he seems to hate magic the very most although his best friend is a walking dark magic portal. Joey is just completely done, but unfortunately for Joey it turns out all the magic up to this point hasn’t even remotely been the amount of magic that this show is going to throw at us, because this entire episode is a bunch of wizards just screwing with each other.

I’ve mentioned before that it feels like the power players of Yugioh are kinda like Greek Gods where they just really can’t be bothered about 95% of the time--but when they are FINALLY bothered enough to move their own ass, they just kinda sweep the floor clean and leave me utterly baffled.

Anyways, Pegasus actually is in the spooky tower, to my disbelief, at this non-euclidean desk that doesn’t seem to exist in time and space.

And then Kaiba wakes up in a cabbage-patch lookin jail cell. I would love to see more of his reaction to that but alas, this episode is not about Seto Kaiba.

Pegasus decided to make good on his word, mostly because Yugi is a cursed Pharaoh and he doesn’t want to see what happens if he doesn’t make his end of the bargain. To be quite honest, getting your mind scrambled would have probably been better than what did eventually happen to him in this episode.

Seriously, did this guy ever sell a painting that wasn’t a card? His portfolio would just be one person. And they do say that you shouldn’t make your portfolio too many styles but, damn, you can’t just do one person, unless your going to work for one specific type of video game, in which case sure just draw that one space punk chick over and over it seems to work for you.

Bakura decides to show up, and he’s very Bakura about it, introducing a new Bakura mechanic that I didn’t at all predict would ever be a thing.

Bless this storyboarder.

After showing off his weird tarot ability for no other good reason than to mess with Pegasus for a little bit, he decides to make me regret ever saying this necklace looked like it has five dicks.

I am so sorry, I had no idea! I had no idea it would be shooting lasers! What the hell, show?? What genre am I even watching anymore??

Also this whole concept that at any point these items can just shoot anime lasers and start a...whatever this trope is called, is so bizarre to me. They CAN do this...but they prefer to use cards.

They CAN do this, at any point, but they prefer to trap the souls of you and your friends in a card so you must play even more cards.

Or they can shoot you with a laser and solve their problems that way.

But why would they? They can like...play cards and do tarot and read minds and make card monsters real so who would ever want to shoot freakin lasers!

I do appreciate that Pegasus’ laser is pink like the salmon I chose for his font.

My bro argues that Pegasus probably sees just fine with the golden eyeball, but I feel like it can’t be the same, like a Spike Spiegal situation. It’s not like they ever tell us, anyway.

Him being alive for centuries is just never brought up for the rest of the episode. It comes up here and then Bakura’s like “Woopsie! Change the subject!”

Kid’s show!

As a kid an episode of the Rugrats freaked me the hell out--you know the one where Reptar becomes alive? I couldn’t take that one, it was terrifying. So maybe I’m not one to judge, because I was not a normal kid when it came to anxiety (in fact a legit phobia of dogs gave me pretty severe panic attacks on a weekly basis) but, it seems like Yugioh is a lot like brother’s Grimm because they are SO READY to cut off body parts, revive corpses, and overall gross me out, just to make a point.

Is it necessary? Eh.

But is it bizarre body horror we can stuff in this kid’s story? YES LETS DO IT.

With the way they set this up it looked as if they were just going to have them show up in the nick of time or something, but instead the show was like “lol, these kids? You’re kidding, right?”

He’s literally missing an eye and Croquet’s exact line was something like “he’s fallen ill.”

Also, I’m glad we got a cameo from Double-Spike Mohawk Mullet Man in this episode, giving Pegasus a fireman carry like a trooper.

So, because they can’t not, and because Pegasus’ security is only effective at random times of the day (they must have a lot of smoke breaks or something) the four decide to raid Pegasus’ bedroom. Why would you ever want to do this to the guy who was ritually sacrificing people the night before!?

Joey’s weird crushes on blondes that are...not in High School. Joey. Stop this. You are a child.

Anyways, Tea goes straight for the juicy stuff, because if there’s anything in this world that I would never ever want to read is a grown man’s journal filled with all his unfiltered thoughts.

Then we’re welcomed into a Pegasus Flashback, because why not make a tragic past even more tragic? Anyways, it’s OK because anime food lives here.

Bro called them gravity melons. I want to point out the party cups drawn from the side sitting on the round table we see from the top. Love it. Also realllllly love that guy with the mustache and glasses in the bottom right corner. There’s some good stuff here in this vaguely 80′s flashback.

Anyway, she totally dies. The flashback goes through things we’ve been over before--they get married, she gets sick, she turns into a rose and then becomes a grave in a really poorly kept graveyard.

And so Pegasus turns to religion. Yes, you read that right, He decides, he wants to find a religion that will explain afterlife to him, and he’s like I might as well start with the oldest and work up, so he goes to Egypt.

Uh...OK. I mean if you’re just looking for a religion with an afterlife you could have chosen...almost any of them. You could have stayed in America and like gone to...anywhere but, the guy was like “Mummies, youknow?” and went to Egypt although Cecelia is already dead and buried so it’s not like he can do the mummy trick to her now. It’s a little LATE?

My brother and I were so entranced by this bizarre hat, that we wanted to see if it’s ever been made real. AND IT HAS.

MARVEL AT IT:

IT IS VERY EXPENSIVE.

LOOK AT THAT DUMB HAT!

We checked Amazon for cheaper listings, but only found trucker hats with the Square Mason symbol on it, and Illuminati trucker hats like this one.

My brother wrote this note to them. I hope they read it and take it to heart.

Anyways, our newly found joy, held aloft by the discovery of perfect square brimmed hats was quickly sullied.

His hat is a transformer. But a round to square kind.

So in walks this guy. His name is Shadi. I’m telling you that right now because I want you to pay attention to how long it takes before we find out his name is Shadi. He is going to tell us his name at some point, and it’s very weird when it happens.

Pegasus doesn’t seem to realize it is not at all normal for a guy in modern Egypt to be walking around with this massive ankh on his chest (eh...you can’t see it in these pictures, but there’s a HUGE ankh just hanging around his neck) with earrings and pharaoh makeup. Pegasus is just that type of sheltered American. He’s like...well you look like someone from a movie so it must be legit. And that is how Pegasus decides to follow a guy who is clearly an ancient spooky wizard into an ancient death dungeon crypt.

I feel like Pegasus could have easily avoided this whole situation he got himself into.

Shadi has a whole speech about how the eyeball has a lot of power, and that he’s got to protect it all yada yada--but at the same time Shadi is like “BUT I gotta make sure some people use it so a lot of terrible things happen. You’d think I’d just...leave this stuff in this crypt so it’ll never be a problem and the world will never be cursed with terrible dark magic that was sealed away for thousands of years, but...I’m gonna make it happen anyway...and it’s not my fault...”

How many times has Shadi done this? It’s suggested that Pegasus is not the first.

It’s pretty gross, and while it’s done in shadow (which was a nice visual allusion to Shadow Magic), it’s still pretty gruesome for a kids show. To happen twice in one episode of this kid’s show, haha.

She calls him by his full name “Maxamillion” which made me realize he’s probably never shortened his name to “Max” in his entire life.

I’m glad Pegasus making out with a ghost happened on screen. This is now the most romance we’ve seen in all of Yugioh. Good.

So did Pegasus actually write the part where he made out with a vision, though?

I’m curious about how that process works. But, I don’t think we’ll ever find out.

Anyways, next time, on this very same episode of Yugioh:

Will Bakura stick this eyeball in he own eye or will he back out last minute and just hang it from his necklace and pretend it was there the whole time? Will Tea next read Pegasus’ food diary only to discover, in horror, that he drank upwards 60 liters of grape juice and far exceeded his daily calorie intake? Will security even realize these children have been snooping in all of Pegasus’ personal stuff for the past 30 minutes?