#so many smart people throwing the rest of us under the bus

[fallowtail]

happy autism day/month, how are you supposed to cope with knowing your audhd has ruined your life and taken everything you loved away from you and is slowly killing you while also being constantly surrounded by people who tell you wishing you didn't have these things is just internalized ableism...like genuinely what am i even supposed to do at this point? i'm just constantly surrounded by people whose situations enhances their creativity or at the very least hasn't taken it away from them, who are so intelligent while i can't even string a thought together on a good day, who insist they're also drowning in burnout while being so much more capable than i am with the things they care about while i feel like these things have completely sucked my soul away from me and that i can never get it back and never will. like i have no chance of recovery and i'm just getting worse and steadily losing everything i fought so hard to keep and it's just....poof. gone forever. i don't think the isolation and loneliness that comes with never being able to relate to anyone is ever going to go away, is it. people insist they're in the same position as me when they're clearly not and i am just so...so tired of it. i hate april

[fictional-love-is-my-life]

Thoughts on Shattered Glass! Bumblebee? :0

Yes, more shattered glass!!!

Warnings: ANGST, Character flip, mean bumblebee, dark themes, mentions of harming other bots and humans, mentions of pain, and killing.

~

Don't be fooled by his name. He may look cute, but he's got a sharp sting. Bee likes proving that he is capable of just about anything. Which means he's ferocious, determined, hard-headed, and stubborn in the worst way. He's also agile, extremely skilled, and loves proving people wrong. He's also very selfish.

He's still technically a scout. But he's a lot more aggressive. He won't wait for backup. He will go in, quick and hard and he plans on taking everyone out. Then he can rub it in the team's face.

He doesn't always play by the rules and loves getting in cheap nasty shots. Whatever will make him win. He's used many cheating tactics during the battle. No one can call him a cheater if no one survived.

Though he could be called loyal, it's more about self-preservation. He sticks by Optimus and does as he says because Bee wants to survive and not come under Optimus' wrath. Other than that Bee has no loyalty at all. He would happily throw someone else under the bus, and push them into the flames to save himself.

Bumblebee enjoys going to see Ratchet to get new upgrades. He wants to be stronger. He doesn't want anyone to view him as weak because of his size. So if he can get a few new upgrades, that make him stronger and better than everyone else, then he will take them.

Bumblebee doesn't care about his teammates in a sentimental way. He respects them for their own brutal personalities and strengths. He appreciates their art and their ways of bringing pain to Decepticons. But if he came across a situation where it was him or them, he would always choose himself and throw his fellow Autobots to the grinder.

He views humanity as animals, like the rest of the organics, and not as smart sentient beings. He can find them entertaining like someone would view a pet. If he had to get close to a human, he could get behind keeping one in a cage so he could laugh at how tiny and pathetic they were. He would put them through puzzles and challenges and enjoy watching them struggle and cry. But he wouldn't hesitate to crush them if they tried to escape, or if they bothered him. He would be more than happy to get rid of all the organics.

Bumblebee enjoys causing pain to others. He enjoys hearing the way they beg and plead. He loves feeling the power it gives him. He is in control, he is the one in charge of whether they are alive or not. And that fuels his power-hungry ego. He will never be the leader of the Autobots, but in the case of him vs a Decepticon, he can be in charge of them. Having a con beg for mercy, begging Bee to choose kindness, it makes Bumblebee laugh. He loves to toy with them and pretend that he will let them go. See the hope in their eyes, so briefly, before he takes it away. That final face of terror, before he, Bumblebee, ended their life. It fuels him. It makes him happy.

[wickedsrest-rp]

NAME: Troll

RARITY: ★★★☆☆

THREAT LEVEL: ★★★★☆ | Not prone to aggression without reason (bone marrow soup is a reason). Extremely difficult to kill due to resilience, but other weaknesses can be exploited. 

HABITAT: They typically live in underground caves, but some can be found under manmade structures such as bridges. Seven Peaks have many trolls living in the area’s winding mountain passes and deep cave systems.

DESCRIPTION: Trolls are tough-skinned fae that range in size from house cats to imposing school bus sized behemoths. They never stop growing as they age, and they can live to be thousands of years old; for this reason trolls in their home range have been known to be mistaken for the sides of mountains and even accidentally walked on by travelers. The Wicked’s Rest population is much younger and typically trolls in North America are around the size of a large bodybuilding man, though far surpassing them in strength. They have a rock-like texture as most of their skin is protected by a barrier of minerals. Trolls are capable of human speech, albeit not very good at it. 

Where their homes are getting encroached on by humans, their diet has shifted and they’ve adapted to using human bone marrow as a delicacy in their meals. Some have claimed ownership over a specific bridge or area, only letting people through if they’re willing to give something in exchange. While many fae are happiest getting more abstract gifts, like names or hopes, trolls usually want more simple things. Trolls are typically pleasant enough to other fae, not usually causing harm to them.

ABILITIES: Though slow and not that bright, trolls have the strength of ten men and can pack a wallop when angered. An additional danger is that they tend to live in small groups, so if you see one, there are likely a few more nearby (many will send a “scout”). They also like throwing rocks, and pretty much anything else they can get their hands on. Trolls have incredibly tough skin, making attacking them with a sharp or blunt weapon on most of their body near useless. They can see pretty well underground but their eyesight is generally only fair. These fae are short-tempered and only become stronger when enraged – quite literally, they pack a bigger punch if angry.

WEAKNESS: Trolls may be reasoned or bartered with, and sometimes they may not be all that interested in a human to begin with (usually when they already have enough to eat…). Some may prefer to play games, and they’ll honor their word for safe passage if bested. If a fight is inevitable, their stomach is less protected than the rest of their body and disemboweling them with a sharp object is probably the way to go. Don’t miss. You’ll only make them angrier.

OTHER VARIANTS:

Tommyknocker (AKA Bucca): Derived from trolls who started living deeper and deeper within caves, tommyknockers have grown lithe, flexible, and even uglier. They lost their tough skin and replaced it with hairless wrinkles. They’re common to come across if someone is unfortunate enough to get lost in mines and cave systems, as they live the majority of their lives underground thankfully unseen. They might be heard, though: some tommyknockers will make knocking sounds from within caves, which may draw people toward the entrance where they can cause a cave in. They’re almost always in large groups, using their voices and knocking sounds to travel and bounce through the caves to trick and disorient people. Tommyknockers enjoy tormenting or occasionally assisting miners and those who find themselves in caves, with some being more helpful than others – especially if you have something to offer them. Tommyknockers eat underground mushrooms and are vegetarian. They do all of this for fun.

Buggane: Rare and far smarter than the trolls they’re related to, bugganes mostly just want to be left alone underground. Bugganes resemble giant moles with several tusks, standing at about 8 feet tall. They’re as smart as humans, capable of speaking human tongues, and because of their intelligence they resent their troll ancestry (they’ll happily remind humans of their common ancestry with apes if this is mentioned). Bugganes are almost always deep underground, but some might be found in more open areas in Seven Peaks, even in the woods at high altitudes. They prefer to avoid humans, but will assist those who are lost so they can get back to their solitude. Bugganes can be problematic when they make homes in tunnels or underground passages that lie under populated areas; they dig spacious burrows which cause structural damage to anything above. While they can be physically imposing and powerful, they’d rather not engage. They have poor eyesight and a weakness to iron.

[marvelobsessedteenager]

All The Hurt - Chapter 3

Pairing: Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings: ANGST, Peter was an ass, reader is a hurt and petty bitch, fluff to make up for the angst, curse words, lots of “coincidences”, horrible description of death and feelings lmfao I’m sorry

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: dis a long one HAHAH

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

You groggily twisted in your bed as you tried to find the nagging nuisance that interrupted your peaceful slumber that barely lasted five hours. Your vision slowly focused as you rubbed your eyes vigorously, still searching for that damned alarm clock that you couldn’t seem to find.

“For fuck’s sake,” you grumbled, turning on the lamp beside your bed and hissing at the sharp light that was out to attack your pupils. The alarm clock, which somehow made its way onto the floor, read 7:00 AM, September 14th.

You scratched the side of your head, wondering why on earth your past self decided to wake you up this early on a random day.

Until it clicked.

September 14th. The Academic Decathlon competition that was being held in D.C. - the one your team had been preparing for months on end.

With all the ruckus that’s happened in the past few months, the competition was filed under the “unimportant events” cabinet in your mind. Truthfully, you didn’t really want to go. The only reason you were in decathlon was because you and Peter had a competition going to see who could get into as many after-school activities as possible while keeping their grades up. Plus, he said your intelligence would be an asset to the team.

It was stupid, really, but you both found joy in watching the other succeed, and at the time, Peter thought it’d be a push for you considering you were demotivated to study.

After he left you, you quit everything else besides decathlon. When you tried to, they told you you weren’t allowed to due to your name already being written down as one of the team’s members. You slacked off and often avoided going to the after-school practice altogether, hence why you forgot about it.

However, right now, it wasn’t a burden you had to bear. You were grateful for the upcoming distraction, and you thanked God Peter was somehow able to spontaneously quit the team the other day, the 'Stark Internship' granting him access to do so. Luckily for you, that meant some form of escape without having to be around him.

You felt yourself become lighter already, and you quickly got ready for the fast-approaching competition.

Once found your team waiting by the bus, you were greeted by a disoriented-looking Flash, making you giggle as you approached him while giving everyone you passed by a smile. “You look like shit.” You commented when you reached him at the back of the lengthy bus.

“I feel like it,” he groaned, his forehead pressing into the side of the vehicle, “I’m so not a morning person.”

You rolled your eyes and handed him the iced coffee you bought for him on the way, “I know, that’s why I got you this.” You said, shaking the beverage and holding it out for him, "Drink up, Eugene. We got people to beat. And before you ask, yes it has almond milk in it.”

He lifted his head and looked at the coffee in surprise, then back at you, “You’re a lifesaver.” He said, engulfing you in a hug so suddenly you had to hold onto the side of the bus to keep you both from falling back.

You teasingly shook your head and patted him on the back, “I know, I know. I’m amazing.”

“I don’t disagree.” He said, pulling back and taking the coffee from your hands with a small ’thank you.'

You stared at him as he slurped on his drink and sighed in bliss, and wondered what it would be like if he treated everyone the way he treated you.

You knew of his past and understood why his actions came from a place of hurt and nothing more. During these past few months, Flash helped you open your eyes and made you more understanding of people. Especially those who tried to cover up their pain by pushing others away in self-preservation, in fear of showing others who they truly were because they were afraid of being hurt, taken advantage of, or even worse, mocked for it.

At the simple gesture of getting him coffee, he seemed shocked that you even remembered his order, let alone got him something. Your empathetic side was much stronger than you thought it’d be, you realized, your heart aching for the misunderstood boy who stood in front of you.

“What?” Flash inquired with furrowed eyebrows, capturing the metal straw once more (because plastic ain’t it).

You were about to make a joke about how you were staring at him to process how ugly he was when Abe gleefully yelled, “Hey, it’s Peter!” And pointed ahead of him.

You swore your heart stopped for a moment, the voice in your head repeating the word ‘no'.

Your eyes widened as you slowly turned around in astonishment to find that, yes, it really was Peter, in the flesh.

And he’s asking to rejoin the team, but you were still caught up in his presence.

And how much you hated it.

Of course he showed up. Last fucking minute.

Boiling anger shot up to your throat and escaped through your mouth with a growl, “No, no way,” you walked towards him, eyes burning with rage as he backed up, “You can’t just quit, make a grand last minute entrance and be welcomed back.”

Of course, he was welcomed back by all but you and Flash, but that didn’t make a difference to anyone else no matter how many times you whined and objected.

“One more smart team member couldn’t hurt,” Mr. Harrington said.

And that’s how he ended up taking his seat about two rows behind yours, as you and Flash took your designated spots in the front. All the memories of him being Spider-Man fogged up your brain like you couldn’t see anything but him in the suit. It was infuriating how just him being there seemed to fuck with you.

What really pushed you to the edge was that you caught him looking at you. And not just stealing glimpses, no, you mean full-on gawking.

The audacity, you thought, exhaling loudly through your nose.

You found it hard to answer Liz’s training questions correctly. How could you? You were consciously aware of his presence, and consciously aware that he could be hearing your thundering heart if he concentrated enough.

Okay, so you may have done a little bit of research about him and watched a couple of his one minute interviews with reporters. None of them explained how he got said powers, but in one he told the interviewer all his senses were far, far more advanced than normal humans.

You wondered if he ever got a sensory overload.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the ring of a bell and his answer that followed, his voice echoing in your head. When you answered incorrectly for the second time, you decided to give it a rest. You plugged in your earbuds, raised the volume as high as it would go, and wished you could tune out your thoughts like you did to the world.

You were already awake when you reached your destination. While the rest of the students were in awe of how big it was, you and Flash weren’t.

Once all rooms were assigned, Peter and Ned immediately dashed to theirs without waiting to hear Liz’s plans to "act rebellious as a group". Normally, that wouldn’t raise any suspicions, but now that you knew about Peter’s little secret, you were skeptical. They must be doing something related to Spider-Man.

You ignored the dull pain in your chest.

And as much as you wanted to find out, you were drained. Thinking had seemed to take up most of your energy, which was something you needed in order to win. So, you grabbed your spare key card to the room you shared with Sally Avril and searched the second floor for Room 249 together.

Sally and you weren’t exactly friends, but you talked a few times and said hello to each other via a nod when you passed each other in the hallways. She agreed to be your science partner for this quarter’s project, and you knew that she was incredibly bright for her age, so you didn’t mind rooming with her for a while.

When the both of you were out of breath and complaining about your backs aching from your heavy backpacks, you thankfully found your room.

And, what do you know? It was exactly across the fucking hall from Peter’s.

You annoyingly rolled your eyes and hastily swiped your card on the card reader, pushing the door with your foot and throwing your backpack onto the bed before flopping on it with a groan, your tiredness leaving you and allowing anger to fuel you instead.

“You okay?” Sally asked, always the sweetheart, shutting the door and placing her own backpack on the bed, taking her possessions out.

“Just peachy,” you sarcastically mumbled, your face squished between the pillows. You could only describe their scent as hotel rooms, but they were cool enough to help put out a little bit of the fire that you still had within you. You took a deep breath and pushed yourself up, leaning on your elbows, “I’m gonna go check the gym out.”

A while back, you learned how to manage your anger by using it to your advantage. The excess adrenaline helped pump your energy and allowed you to finish your workout faster, which in turn made you stronger and defused the storm within you. You took your gym clothes to the bathroom and changed before yelling out a goodbye to Sally and exiting your room.

As you shut the door behind you, you looked up in time to make eye contact with Peter, who stood behind his glass window and froze upon meeting your eyes. You scoffed and turned away, and he sighed and continued closing the curtains to his room, obstructing anyone from seeing him remove the tracker from his suit.

When the clock struck 10 pm, you heard a secret knock that meant Liz was here to take your asses to sneak into the pool as a group. You tiredly tied your robe around your body as Sally opened the door, squealing and giving Liz a hug. The group was buzzing with excitement, and you weren’t 100% sure of it, but you were certain this was the most rebellious thing they’ve ever done.

It was adorable how innocent they were.

While the students ran down the hall, you slowed your pace down to walk beside Flash, who waited for you at the end of the line they formed and handed you a snickers bar - your absolute favorite.

“Aw,” you cooed, finger tapping his nose, "Is this a thank you for the coffee this morning?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Flash scrunched his nose and flicked your hand away.

“What's up with you lately?” You asked, peeling away at the bar’s wrapper and taking a large bite, “You’ve been so touchy and caring. I mean, you’ve given me more hugs this week than you have in your entire life.”

Flash’s ears turned red as he pursed his lips and looked down at his bare feet, “I’m not being touchy.”

You stopped and turned to face him with a tilted head and cocked eyebrow. He sighed, “You almost died, Y/n,” he admitted with a small voice, tracing all your scars with his eyes, "I don’t know, I just...I don’t want to lose you, you know? It was scary.”

Your demeanor softened and you gave him a gentle smile. Flash wasn’t one to open up and express his feelings properly, but it warmed your heart that he tried to with you. You wrapped your arms around him once more, calmly rubbing his back, “I don’t wanna lose you, either.”

He snorted and pulled back, jabbing your side and making you squeal, “Yeah, who wouldn’t?”

You jokingly pushed at his shoulders, “I could give you a fucking list.”

The two of you laughed in the hallway as you looked up to see that you were almost at Peter’s door, where he stood there talking to Liz alone. Or, more accurately, both of them exchanging love eyes that made them fumble with their words and made a visible blush rise to their cheeks.

You rolled your eyes with disgust and gagged in revulsion while your heart clenched so hard you had to put a hand on your chest to make sure it was still beating.

And boy, was it beating, all right.

Flash was quick to notice your actions and tried to get them to separate, cupping his hands over his mouth, “Yo, loser,” he called out, making Peter turn, “Stay here. I’m sure Iron-Man is gonna need your help rescuing kittens that are stuck on trees.”

You let out a chuckle and grabbed Liz by her arm when you got close enough, “Come on, don’t waste your time with him. He’s got civil duties to get to.” You threw a deadly glance at him and dragged Liz with you to the pool, failing to notice Peter’s crest-fallen face.

Who cares about him, though? You were here to win a competition and get the trophy - maybe that’ll prove to your dad that you’re worth something, and if that fails, it’s still pretty cool to have accomplished something.

You ended up teaming up with Abe and successfully pushing Flash into the pool, high-fiving Abe before he canon-balled in himself. You giggled, watching your teammates gesture you to come in, but you shook your head and took a seat in one of the chairs.

“Oh, come on, Y/n. Just come in for a minute.”  

“I’m not a swimmer, Flash. I’ll be here, just not in there.”

Your body was aching from the lack of sleep and constant moving around. Plus, you really weren’t much of a swimmer. You quietly took a seat beside MJ as she read a book you once read as well, the chair making a screeching sound that made you cringe and alerted MJ of your presence.

“Can I help you with something?” She asked, flipping to the next page and reading on, but somehow she saw you throw a glance at her.

“Nah,” you crossed your arms and leaned back, watching as Liz got splashed with water by both Cindy and Abe, who then proceeded to dunk Flash’s head in the water and high-fived, “just recognized the book, s’all.”

She hummed and nodded, and you saw her peek up at you from the corner of your eye, “Good taste. I’d like you if you weren’t a bully.”

“Guess you’ll never like me, then.” You replied, monotony lacing your voice, immediately putting an end to the conversation that was only beginning to bloom. You knew she was going to transform it into another ‘what you’re doing isn’t right’ lecture, but you’ve heard enough of it from Jane.

A tense silence settled between you two as her words settled in your mind. A bully. That’s exactly what you were seen as. You guessed people don’t exactly see what caused the change in behavior, but they see the change itself.

You placed the back of your head against the concrete wall and stared up, looking through the built in glass that allowed the moon’s light to bleed into the pool, fully brightening it up until the shadow of a figure covered the view. Him.

Him clad in his latex suit with a backpack on, hands holding the mask that would hide his identity from the rest of the world.

You saw him staring at her.

You felt your heart fall to the pit of your stomach, where it seemed to only cause a burning sensation - jealousy. You were looking at him while he was too busy looking at someone else, and that seemed to have followed you your entire life, even when you weren’t friends.

You gulped and turned away before you ever saw his line of vision move over to you, wondering and wondering.

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

The next morning, you stood in front of Flash’s room with your hands on his shoulders as you tried to calm him down.

“Holy shit. Holy shit, I can’t do this, Y/n,” He said, rubbing his forehead. His shoulders were rising and falling at a quick pace beneath your palms as he took shallow breaths, nerves practically spewing out of him.

Who knew Flash was a worry wort?

“Okay, Flash, listen to me,” you grabbed his face and tilted it towards you so you could look him in the eye, “This competition is just a competition. It doesn’t prove your worth to anyone.” That’s not what you thought of yesterday, "Your grades and results don’t determine how smart you are, all right? They’re just numbers and letters, and those don’t make up who you are. And besides,” you gestured to the group of people that were across the hall knocking on Peter and Ned’s door, “if you’re so worried, we’ve got a whole bunch of smart-asses who’ll make up for your stupidity.”

You gave him a teasing smile and relaxed when he shook his head with a chuckle.

“You’ve got this, Eugene.”

He took a deep breath and nodded his head in affirmation, “Yeah. Yeah, I’ve got this."

“Attaboy! That’s the spirit!” You said, punching him in the shoulder and laughing when he held his arm in pain.

The concoction from the other side of the hall seemed to have risen above your laughter, making you and Flash exchange a look before running over.

“What’s going on?” Flash asked, causing everyone to turn.

“The boys won’t come out, and if they don’t we’ll be late,” Liz answered, checking the watch on her wrist and tugging the ends of her ponytail stressfully.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” You mumbled, rolling your eyes and elbowing your way through the crowd until you reached the door.

“Ned! Parker! Get the fuck out of this room or so help me God I will fucking break the door down!” You yelled, repeatedly slamming your fist on the door as it shook from the force.

To your surprise, the door immediately swung back to reveal a sweaty Ned and a missing Peter. Before he was going to say something, you asked, “Where is he?”

Ned stood there like a gaping fish, opening and closing his mouth with broken words falling out, “He..uh, he..won’t be able to make it?”

“He left?”

Ned took a shaky breath in and toyed with the hem of his shirt, “M-maybe..”

Typical Peter. Running away when he was needed.

“Of course he did,” you pinched the bridge of your nose then turned to Liz, “we’re just gonna have to leave without him.” You shrugged, watching as Liz’s shoulders deflated.

She looked mad, worried, and at the same time disappointed. You guessed it had something to do with whatever they were talking about yesterday.

You also guessed he left due to something that had to do with Spider-Man, but you didn’t have enough evidence to prove it to yourself. Regardless of how you wanted to feel, you started getting rather distressed. You wondered if he left after seeing you guys in the pool, where he was, if he was all right, why he hasn’t come back - all questions that could be answered by Ned, you realized. But you didn’t want to risk it.

So, you made your way to the competition with murmuring nerves and trembling hands. You blamed it on the competition, but you knew deep down that it was Peter’s absence that was troubling you.

Either way, you thanked God for MJ’s intelligence that won you the competition.

Hugs were being exchanged all around and pride flowed between your teammates as a golden trophy was handed to your team.

To celebrate, you made your way to the Washington Monument, where you’d be given a boring tour and promised an 'unforgettable view.’ However, there was a tugging feeling in your stomach as Flash asked Mr. Harrington if he could tell Peter that he was expelled. He still hasn’t shown up. Your mind raced with possibilities, and only got worse as the monument's elevator ascended.

Until it abruptly stopped and aggressively shook in its place, causing panic to spread among your group as dust fell upon everyone from the hole that seemed to have appeared above you, covering you from head to toe. Smoke began to fill the elevator’s confined space and-

And this was starting to feel like Delmar’s all over again.

You were frightened, hands shaking and tears welling up in your eyes as oxygen barely made its way into your lungs only to come out again. Your eyes were glued to the hole in the elevator’s roof, as if it’d somehow close up again if you stared at it long enough. It felt as if you were looking at the inside of one’s body - it was a sight you were never meant to see, and now, here you were, seeing it. You saw the wires and pulleys that kept the elevator in its place, and you couldn’t describe how wrong it was.

“Okay, guys, I know that was scary but our safety systems are working. We’re very safe in here.” The lady assured in the most tedious way possible. It was like you weren’t about to meet death himself. Like everything was okay.

It wasn’t.

“No, lady! No, we’re clearly not!” You yelled as you collapsed to the floor, clutching your head and rocking back and forth.

“Okay, Y/n, breathe, breathe.” Mr. Harrington crouched down to your level, inhaling and exhaling slowly as if that’d help you. You could hardly focus on anything but the fact that you felt like you were going to die.

Death seemed to chase you wherever you went, like you were cursed, and now these people were going to go down with you, with no superhero to come swooping in because you didn’t know where he was.

Oh my God, why is this happening?

Flash hastily looked around and pointed to a small opening on the side of the elevator, “We can open that! We can open that and get out through there!” He said, and the others got to work right away.

Ned carried the lady on his shoulders as she successfully pushed it open, allowing new air to come through, the group taking a large, collective inhale. Flash kneeled down beside you, and rubbed your back, promising you everything will be okay, which calmed you down enough to stand up.

You were still scared, hands were still shaking, but you knew you had to put others before you. So you concealed them from everyone’s view, and helped your teammates safely climb out to where a group of security guys was waiting to pull them out.

Cindy went up first, then Abe, Sally, and the dude with glasses you could never remember the name of, until you, Flash, Mr. Harrington, Liz, and Ned remained.

They all suggested you go first, but you refused and told them you’d be fine with assisting them. Flash was up next.

The minute he jumped off the elevator’s surface to grab ahold of the security guard’s hand, the wires which held the elevator in its place snapped and you began your fast descend, screaming into oblivion as your heart rattled inside your ribcage.

A strong force stopped the elevator from falling further for a second before it started falling again, not giving you enough time to catch your breath. It hit a large metal ground, hard, and that seemed to stop it and made you fall on your knees and bust the rest of the glass.

You breathed harshly, thinking it was over, basking in sweet relief until Spider-Man fell from the hole into the elevator and pushed it down even further, prompting the elevator to plunge at an even faster rate, and both Liz and Ned to let out an ear-deafening scream that made its way to your stomach, twisting and turning it while your knuckles turned white from the death grip you had on the railing.

There's your second chance at death, because apparently, one time wasn’t enough.

With his quick thinking, though, Spider-Man raised his arm and shot his web to the ceiling of the building, holding on as he planted his legs on the corner of the elevator, and pulling as it hung in the air.

He looked around the elevator, pausing for a second on your curled up body, before clearing his throat, “Hey, how you doin’?” He said, thickening his New York accent, “don’t worry about it, I got you.”

Ned - like he wasn’t about to fucking die - began fangirling over his best friend as he yelled out multiple 'yes's and bounced up and down, making the elevator’s wheels creak, threatening to fall once again.

"Hey, hey, hey, big guy! Quit movin’ around!” Spider-Man scolded Ned, his voice returning back to normal as he tugged on the web to slowly pull the lift up.

Your insides were still flipped and in all the wrong places, mind frozen as you sat on the ground, still rattled, with tears pushing hard against your waterline. Your breathing was loud and labored, which caught Liz’s attention.

“Hey,” she sat down beside you, voice husky, still half dazed herself, “we’re gonna be okay.” She said, almost as if she was trying to convince herself with her words, "We’re safe now.”

She paused for a moment, "I know what happened to you at Delmar’s-“ You saw Spider-Man’s head swerve towards the both of you for a second as you inhaled sharply. “-but you’re okay. We’re all going to be fine.”

You tilted your head towards her, tracing over her messed up hair and flushed cheeks, dirt painting her face but a small, hopeful smile sat on her lips. You managed to give her a nod and a squeeze of her hand in acknowledgment. Though it did nothing to calm you down, you were still grateful for her sincerity and effort in trying to do so.

“All right, everyone out.” Spider-Man demanded once you reached the level where the security guards were waiting. His grunting made it sound like he didn’t have as much time as he needed, and every person made their way out slowly but carefully.

You shakily stood on your legs, waiting for everyone to get out and counting down until it was your turn. Three, Ned was out first. Two, Mr. Harrington made it to the other side. One, Liz was safely out as she looked back at you and stretched her arm, palm open and awaiting your own.

You quickly skidded across the floor, and just as your skin touched hers, the web broke into two with a splick sound.

And for the next second you were falling to your death, all on your own.

Previous Chapter Next Chapter All The Hurt Masterlist Main Masterlist

Tags: @peachescream06

[anubislover]

Welcome to the Heart Pirates, Nami-ya chapter 19: Lying Hearts

“How can anyone stand to live in a city like this?” Nami grumbled as the light glinted off of yet another painfully white building. True, the setting sun had lessened the glare slightly, but after an entire afternoon of it, she was developing quite the headache, even with the sunglasses.

Law shrugged and continued walking at a leisurely pace, still unaffected. “I’m sure if you’re born somewhere like this it’s easier, but people can learn to tolerate almost anything given enough time, I suppose.”

“Do you think you’d be able to learn to tolerate bread?”

“I said almost. I’d sooner die of starvation.”

She shook her head with a chuckle but kept pace, following his lead. Instead of heading straight back to the submarine, Law had insisted on a few detours through Atifakuto—partially in case anyone had grown suspicious and decided to follow them, but also to scope out potential escape routes under the guise of sightseeing. Nami, for her part, had been exceedingly helpful in this, mapping out in her head which stairways lead where and pointing out various places to hide. If Law found her compliance suspicious, he didn’t say anything; it was in their best interest to work together, especially with some potentially valuable goods on the line, so her behavior was easily rationalized.

For her, however, there was more than artifacts or even belli at stake. This heist had to go well. She needed Law to trust her enough to open up about why he was so obsessed with Amber Lead. Perhaps if he could do that, she wouldn’t even have to sneak into his quarters to take a look at the ledgers. She could just ask and he’d let her in like a rational human being.

Of course, in order for either of their plans to succeed they needed to know where the vase was. Luckily, the rest of the Hearts hadn’t been sitting idle on the submarine. They’d been investigating every possible gallery, art collector, museum, and auction house their prize could possibly be at. The second they had a lead, they’d call on the mini Den Den Mushi.

Until then, though, Law and Nami were forced to meander about the city, planning and killing time.

“So, while we wait for some intel, what else are you going to buy me?” she asked as they wandered the fourth level. They’d passed quite a few shops, and while most had stocked dull business suits similar to the last store, Nami felt her bags were tragically light. They were in a beautiful-if-blinding city, and she was walking away with only one outfit? What a travesty.

Snorting dismissively, Law glanced down at her with a clear look of are you kidding me? on his face. “Nothing. I told you I was only getting you one outfit. I’m your captain, not your sugar daddy.”

“You know, for a man who wants this little job to go well, you’re not putting in nearly the effort you should,” she quipped, a sly smile on her lips, eyelashes fluttering prettily. “I’m supposed to look professional and put together if I’m gonna pull off being your lovely assistant. That means I need matching shoes and accessories. Maybe a cute leather purse or briefcase to really sell it.”

“If you want those so badly then buy them yourself. Or,” he smirked, halting his pace to turn around and catch her chin between his fingers, tilting her head up towards him as he stepped in close enough so she could feel his body heat, “you earn them by doing certain favors for daddy.”

Her cheeks only pinkened a little at his innuendos while she stuck out her tongue and shoved him away. Last night’s dream wasn’t quite as close to the forefront of her mind anymore, but that didn’t mean his smirk didn’t do things to her she’d rather ignore. “Pass. You should know by now that it takes more than clothes for me to play nice.”

“Mmm, I do. That’s what makes it so much fun,” he purred, gold eyes glinting in wicked amusement. One gloved hand was shoved into his pocket while his free arm slung itself casually over her shoulder as he continued stalking along the fastidiously clean road. “But since you’re currently insisting on being a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need a man to provide for her, you can instead borrow some shoes from Ikkaku, and she might still have a pair of glasses or something from the time she pretended to be a receptionist at a Naval base.”

Brown eyes widened at his statement. Not because he was suggesting that she borrow clothes or anything, but the bombshell he’d just casually dropped in light of her recent discovery.

“Was this for one of your plans?” she asked, shoulders stiffening.

He shrugged like it was no big deal, though he did give her a curious glance at the way she tensed beneath him. “Yeah. We needed someone on the inside, and they’d put out an advertisement for an attractive female in her early twenties. It’s not like Uni or Penguin could do it.”

“But…holy shit, Law, are you serious?” she hissed, dragging him over to an unoccupied part of the street behind a solitary gated tree so she could scold him in private. There weren’t too many people about, but the last thing they need was to get unwanted attention because they’d caused a scene, even if Law totally deserved to get chewed out at the top of her lungs for being such an asshole. “Ikkaku has Marine brothers who want her dead and you sent her into the lion’s den? What the fuck?!”

Caught off-guard by her anger, Law’s eyebrows shot up briefly before furrowing. “She told you about them?”

Damn. In her shock and anger on her friend’s behalf, she’d forgotten that this was a subject she wasn’t technically supposed to know. But instead of admitting guilt, she doubled down and threw on her best poker face.

“Yeah. She told me,” she lied easily. Too easily. It came as naturally as it had back in the days she’d been working under Arlong, getting close to pirates by lying through her teeth and then robbing them blind. How many crews and captains had she deceived before Luffy? Nami had honestly lost count, but once she’d joined up with the Straw Hats, lying to a supposed ally hadn’t been quite as instinctual.

But this isn’t Luffy, and Law’s keeping way more secrets than I am, she rationalized. It’s just a little white lie anyway. He’d be way more pissed at Shachi and Penguin for telling me. I’m looking after those guys.

Law’s expression hardened, and for a moment she wondered if he’d seen through her bluff. She didn’t think she’d gotten too rusty in the lying department, but Law was smart and distrusting in general, so she couldn’t quite tell. Trepidation hung heavy in the air as she waited for him to speak, mind going a mile a minute coming up with new lies and explanations to appease him. Worse came to worst, she could throw the guys under the bus, even if she didn’t really want to, but they were his best friends, so Law would doubtlessly be more forgiving towards them, right?

Thankfully, it seemed his anger came from a completely different place, as he snarled quietly through clenched teeth, “Nami-ya, I am, as you have pointed out rather frequently in the past, a control freak. Do you really think I would devise a plan that required sending my top mechanic into a Marine base if there was even a chance she could be recognized? Especially by her utter shit of a brother?”

She flinched at the vitriol in his voice. It seemed she’d touched a nerve, and unless she wanted to lose all the progress she’d worked for, she knew it was best to back down. “Sorry. You’re right.”

“I’ll accept your apology if you tell me what prompted her to tell you,” he stated, crossing his arms. “It’s not information she makes widely known, even to those who are permanent members of my crew.”

Well. At least this was easy enough to justify, and she’d be doing both Law and Ikkaku a favor, right? Sure, the guys would obviously tell him later, but being the first to warn him might earn her a few more crumbs of trust. “There was an article in the paper about Marine reinforcements coming to the Grand Line. Ushi was interviewed. He seemed pretty intent on taking down the Heart Pirates.”

Law froze, his frown deepening into a dark sneer. The tic in his jaw and the way his fists clenched reminded her of his reaction to Ikkaku having been attacked on Grimm. “That fucker will stay away from Ikkaku if he’s got any brains in him.”

“You’re pretty protective of her,” she said. Sure, he’d perhaps phrased his defense in a way that implied his priority was the plan, it was clear from the hiss in his voice that Ikkaku’s safety had been genuinely considered.

The brim of his hat hid his eyes as he stated, “I’m protective of all my crew. She’s just…it’s hard to find submarine engineers, let alone ones as skilled as her. Ikkaku’s hard to replace.”

Well that stinks to high heaven of bullshit, she thought. Sure, the Surgeon of Death had a rightly-earned cruel reputation, but he’d shown time and again his crew meant a lot to him. Stepping in close, she used her finger to lift his hat enough to see his expression unobstructed. “Is that why you let her sass you? Because if she walked you’d be dead in the water?”

The gold orbs glared down at her, though the held no heat. “Everyone on the crew is a vital component. Like gears in a well-oiled machine. You’ve gotta take care of them to make sure they don’t break.”

When Nami merely raised a disbelieving eyebrow, he sighed, body deflating slightly. “Look, Nami-ya, everyone on my crew, we’ve all got shit in our pasts. Some have overcome it. Some still carry the scars. Ikkaku…hers is one of the few that’s actively still trying to get her. So yeah, maybe I’m a bit more protective, but it’s for a damn good reason.”

Ok, now that was a fair point. “I’m surprised you haven’t just killed him.”

“Oh, I want to,” he snarled. “No brother should try to hurt their siblings. They’re supposed to look after them. The only reason Ushi-ya still draws breath is because Ikkaku begged me to spare his pathetic life.”

It suddenly dawned on Nami that, despite his criticizing Luffy for not being more bloodthirsty, Law was…surprisingly merciful in his own ways, too. He didn’t murder Ikkaku’s brother, despite having clear reason to, just because she asked. He rescued Jean Bart from a life of slavery despite not knowing him. And while she didn’t fully understand the Ope Ope no Mi’s powers, she wondered if his cuts didn’t draw blood because he didn’t want them to?

She wasn’t sure if he had a complexity addiction or if he genuinely wanted to minimize bloodshed, but once again another side of the incredibly fascinating man had been revealed.

Taking a deep breath to calm his anger, he gave Nami a sadistic smile. “Doesn’t mean I let him off the hook with a sternly-worded warning, though. Wanna know what I did to him the last time we met?”

Nami turned a bit green as she remembered Jinzo’s still-beating heart in his hands. Complex and caring towards his crew or not, he was still a twisted bastard. “Fuck no!”

Briefly he pouted at not getting to regale her with the gory details before shrugging. “Pity. It was quite the eventful evening. In fact, it was also the night of mine and Drake-ya’s first kiss.”

“How the hell are those two things connected?!”

“Well, I had to distract him somehow. He was guarding my poor mechanic like a dragon would a virtuous princess.”

Before she could demand more details, or even snort at the idea of Ikkaku being virtuous, the sound of the mini Den Den Mushi reached their ears, interrupting the conversation.

Looking around to make sure there weren’t any eavesdroppers, Law pulled out the little snail phone and clicked down on the top. “Guessing you’ve got something for me?”

“I do,” the snail answered, and Nami recognized the faint accent that indicated they were speaking to Cousteau. “Only one place that specializes in North Blue history. Jubilee & Atlas Antiques. It’s an auction house and gallery on the fifth level, a block away from the Elevate Deliverer Restoration Church.”

“Well that’s a needlessly long name,” he quipped, rolling his eyes. Mentally, Nami had to agree, though it also sounded vaguely familiar. “At least that makes it easier to find. Anything else I should know? Other landmarks, nearby guard stations, that sort of thing?”

There was a moment of hesitation before Cousteau replied, “No station, though there would probably be at least a few guards wandering around at night. It’s, uh, right by a fountain. Blessings from the White City.”

Nami’s eyes widened a little. Oh. Now she remembered. That had been the church with the huge stained-glass windows. The one in her book, by the tribute to Flevance.

“…I see.”

The little snail chewed its lip, clearly concerned. “Captain, if you want, I can do all the surveillance—”

“It’s fine,” he cut in, tone sharp before smoothing out, “I saw it earlier. In fact, I’m glad it’s so close. Nami-ya and I will check out the gallery. We’re nearby and I’d rather see it with my own eyes to get the lay of the land. Unless anyone else has a better lead, you and the others can head back to the ship.”

“Understood, sir. Anything else you need?” he asked, sounding relieved.

“Just tell Clione I might have a job for him later on, so don’t make any evening plans.”

“Aye-aye, Captain.”

The call ended, and Nami peered up at Law, expecting signs of the same darkness that had crossed his face when they’d visited the fountain earlier. Instead, his face was totally blank, staring down at the tiny snail, expressionless.

Somehow, that was far, far more unnerving.

“Law?” she asked, touching his arm hesitantly.

As if awoken from a trance he shook his head before smirking down at her. “Well, hope you don’t mind one last detour before heading back to the ship? I know it’s more stairs but look on the bright side; at this rate, the definition of your calf muscles will be a thing of beauty.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond, turning on his heels and heading towards the direction of the stairs to the next level. Frowning, she began to doubt whether or not this was all a good idea. She didn’t know exactly what his deal was, but she really felt like he was too close to this. But she had the feeling trying to talk him out of it would be an exercise in futility, and would set her back far more than any lie she might spin.

Oh well, she sighed internally, jogging to catch up, so long as he doesn’t do anything stupid. He’s sensible enough to keep a cool head, no matter what his problem is. It’ll be fine.

While it wasn’t far, it took longer than either of them would have expected to actually find Jubilee & Atlas Antiques. Mainly because it was a surprisingly nondescript building compared to the opulent churches and museums nearby. Honestly, based on the exterior, one could easily have passed it by. Like everything else the building was pristinely white, the windows boasting small arches over them and flower boxes containing white impatiens. Really, the most impressive thing about it was the marble plaque out front boasting the company’s name in gold leaf.

But the two pirates didn’t really care about the appearance; it was what was inside that counted. That, and the information board out front, which stated in bold, black letters that there would be a showing and auction of North Blue artworks at 8pm that evening.

“Why don’t you just Scan the place, grab the vase, and walk away? Seems like that would be easy compared to putting on this charade?” Nami asked, eyeing the building. It was hardly Harpin’s mansion; it would take almost no effort for Law to use his powers to steal every item of value inside it, replacing artifacts, paintings, and money with pebbles and potted plants with a mere flick of his fingers, then teleporting them away to safety.

Really, if he weren’t such an ass, Trafalgar Law would be a thief’s dream partner.

Of course, he was an ass, so he gave her a look that implied he considered her question to be phenomenally stupid. “Because there’s no guarantee that the vase is even in there—for all I know it’s being kept in a secondary location until the actual event for security or health reasons. It is a relic from a city that suffered a notorious death toll both before and after the World Government had quarantined it,” he explained lowly. “On top of that, my Room would draw too much attention, so if it’s not in there, we’ll have blown our whole cover and probably the operation.”

Though disappointed that they couldn’t just whisk it away with his powers, she conceded that he had a point. Versatile and useful as they were, the Ope Ope no Mi’s abilities did have their drawbacks. Actually infiltrating the auction house was a safer move.

Yet for a moment, she saw Law glare at the building, as if he were equally frustrated that they couldn’t just grab their prize and go. Perhaps even a great mastermind like him sometimes wished to take the direct path. “At least we can be sure it’ll be presented at this auction,” he reassured, almost as much to himself as her as his hand rested on Nami’s lower back while he escorted her away. “Makes it easier to come up with a plan and contingencies when I actually know the target. My crew did good.”

She twirled a strand of hair around her finger in thought. She supposed he was right, and the pride in his voice when he mentioned the Hearts’ contribution…well, she knew better than to argue with that. Seemed the lesson he learned on the last island was sticking. “Still too bad we don’t have blueprints like Harpin’s house, though.”

“It can’t be helped. That was a job I’d been planning for months. This is more…spontaneous. Why? Scared and looking to back out?” he asked, glancing down at her with a challenging grin.

Nami scoffed. She was a thief that specialized in robbing pirates. Sure, she was a scaredy-cat, but when treasure of some kind was at stake, there were few risks she wouldn’t take. “Not a chance. Just pointing out that we’re going in more blind than last time.”

“Maybe, but at least our prize will be out in the open and not in the home of a former Marine with tentacles. Hell, we might even get it legally.”

“Law,” she started, brow furrowing. She wasn’t scared, but she did have a reasonable concern, especially with how intent he seemed on this one item. “What are we going to do if we don’t win the vase?”

The pair stopped by the Flevance fountain, Law taking a long moment to stare solemnly at the beautiful white angels. Without a word he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small coin, pressing it to his lips before flipping it into the water.

When he turned back to her, his gold eyes were as hard as the statues’ and twice as cold.

“Simple; we take it from whoever did.”

XXX

Hidden in a small cove on an unpopulated section of Atifakuto’s coast, the sight of the Polar Tang’s sunny yellow hull was a welcome relief after a whole day of the city’s stark white walls. Law seemed to agree as his tense posture relaxed into a comfortable slouch, even giving a few of the guys a small grin when they called out to them. To Nami, of course, the submarine was still far from the Sunny and thus would never be home, but she couldn’t help but smile at Law’s reaction. The Dark Doctor really did have some softness deep down.

Of course, that didn’t last long, as the moment they were within the safety of the cargo bay he was once more all business. “Dinner is in an hour. Rest up, brush up on your notes, do whatever you need to prepare for the auction tonight; I’ve got a few more dominoes to put in place,” Law stated. He’d been silent for most of the walk back, though Nami attributed that to him mentally filing through all the information they now had and formulating his plan. Much as she missed and loved Luffy, having a captain who didn’t just go rushing in like an idiot was a nice change of pace.

That didn’t mean she appreciated his tone, though. “Say please,” she quipped, hip jutting out. She might have decided to be more compliant for the sake of gaining his trust, but that didn’t mean she was going to let him boss her around.

Besides, if she were too accommodating, he’d probably grow suspicious and then she’d be right back at square one.

He scowled but apparently decided it would be a waste of time to argue. They were on a tight schedule, after all, so her attitude would have to be tolerated. For now. “Please,” he grumbled before marching off, beckoning Clione to follow him. The biologist glanced between the two, bewildered, but smartly said nothing before chasing after his captain.

Flashing a self-satisfied grin at Law’s retreating back, Nami practically skipped to her quarters. Even though they weren’t as prepared as she’d like, so far, things were going well. Perhaps they couldn’t just use Law’s powers to swipe the vase, but by obtaining it through legal means, they wouldn’t have the authorities after them, which would be nice. Besides, it wasn’t her money that would be spent at the auction.

Her research of the North Blue had taught her a few things, including just how valuable things from Flevance were. After all, things made from the white ore had been in high-demand during the city’s heyday; now that it was in ruins, any remaining artifacts would surely triple in price. And, admittedly, if that fountain had been anything to go by, the vase could very well be extremely beautiful. Something any art collector or historian might want for themselves.

Once more, she wondered why the hell Law wanted it. He collected coins, not art, so she doubted it would be something he wanted just for the heck of it. What was his obsession with Flevance—

That train of thought was derailed when Nami walked into her room. She blinked then rubbed her eyes, certain her vision was still messed up from the sun, because Ikkaku was still sitting at her desk, working on some little device, practically in the same position as that morning. Really, the only difference was the lack of towel around her head, though her curly hair was a tangled bird’s nest.

“Have you even moved today?” Nami exclaimed loudly, flabbergasted.

The mechanic jumped a few inches out of her chair, a pen cartwheeling through the air before falling back onto the surface of the desk with a clatter. Apparently since she’d had the room to herself, she hadn’t felt the need to put the earplugs back in, leaving her vulnerable to Nami’s loud voice. “Damn, girl, you scared me,” Ikkaku said with a breathy laugh. She glanced around, noticing the time on the clock and the fact that her hair had dried completely. “Guess I was in the zone.”

“You haven’t been working all day, have you?” Nami asked, plopping her shopping bag on her bed. “At least tell me you had lunch.”

“Sounding an awful lot like Law there,” she teased, pushing away from her desk to stretch. There was an audible pop from her back, and her dark eyes closed in relief. “Like me, too. The boys and I are always bugging a certain workaholic captain to eat something and not subsist solely on coffee and aspirin. But to answer your question, yes, I did have lunch.” She pointed at an empty plate that had been shoved into the far corner of the desk, a few grains of rice stuck to the surface. “Bepo brought me some onigiri.”

“Good. If you didn’t, I’d be dragging you into the galley and force-feeding you a sandwich, then charging you a cooking and inconvenience fee.”

Snorting, Ikkaku cracked her knuckles and rolled her shoulders, further releasing the tension sitting hunched over in one spot for hours had built up. “Dinner’s soon enough; even if I hadn’t eaten, I could have waited. And good luck making a sandwich with no bread on board.” Despite her dismissal tone, though, she gave a wry grin. “But thanks for caring, I guess, even if it does come with a price tag.”

“What are friends for?” Nami shrugged with a smile that was a little forced. It was such an alien feeling, this sudden awkwardness. Since first arriving on the Tang, she and Ikkaku had gotten on like a house on fire. It was almost inevitable, being the two women on the ship surrounded by men dealing with that insanity together. Hell, even if that hadn’t been the case, Ikkaku had practically sacrificed herself for her back at the club on Grimm. A companion like that was more than she’d even dared to dream of before she’d met Luffy.

Was it really right for Nami to act like she didn’t know about her brother? Should she just tell her that the guys told her about Ushi? Really, what was the point of keeping it a secret? It wasn’t that Nami thought she’d slip up and spill the beans—lying was her specialty, after all—but Ikkaku wasn’t some mark or stranger. She was her friend.

Hell, even if they were on opposite crews, she’d even dare to call her nakama.

The issue resolved itself, however, when the other woman’s expression turned a little melancholy. Ikkaku sighed as she rested her cheek on her fist, her other hand idly playing with the pen. “Heh. Funny, I used to ask myself that question a lot when I was younger. I didn’t really have friends back on my home island. I lived with my Gramps in a lighthouse, so besides the occasional trip to town, it was a pretty isolated life.”

“What about your brothers?” Nami asked, masking her interest by taking her purchases out of the bag so they wouldn’t wrinkle before the auction. A swell of relief surged through her. If Ikkaku talked about Ushi herself, the whole charade of pretending not to know about him wouldn’t even be necessary! She just had to carefully press for the right crumbs of information, maybe even offer up a couple tidbits about her own life in exchange. No big deal. Tit for tat, right? “Nojiko was my best friend growing up. Hell, probably my only friend until Luffy came along.”

A dark look crossed Ikkaku’s face. “Yeah, well, Nojiko on her worst day was probably a way better sibling than all of them combined.”

“I don’t think you’ve talked about them much. I basically just know that they exist and said you wouldn’t really make it as an engineer because you’re a girl.”

A long sigh escaped her lips. “That’s…the nice version. Didn’t want to unload my shitty childhood on you, especially since yours sounded worse. I mean, my island was never taken over by pirates, and I didn’t work for the guy who murdered my mom.”

Well, that was certainly true, but then again, people with healthy, normal childhoods seldom became pirates. Or at least, those that did rarely lasted long on such cutthroat seas. Nami should have realized there was more to the mechanic’s past than some run-of-the-mill misogyny. “Maybe, but I don’t mind. We’ve all gone through some rough shit, right? We wouldn’t be in this line of work otherwise.”

“True. I just…I guess I just like to pretend he doesn’t exist most of the time.”

“He?” she asked as if she didn’t already know.

Ikkaku’s calloused hand dropped the pen to instead clench into a tight fist, and there was a haunted look in her dark eyes as she stared off into space. “Ushi. He’s the oldest. I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t afraid of him. Spent our childhood making our other brothers use me as a punching bag. When he wasn’t doing that, he gave me almost hourly reminders that I was a burden on the family, that no one really loved me, that I’d never amount to anything.” There was a hitch in her breath and a pause, and Nami noticed her close her eyes tightly for a moment. As if she were fighting back tears. It was a look she’d never expected to see on the tough, vibrant woman’s face. “Then, when I was seven, he tried to kill me.”

“What?!” Nami exclaimed, dropping her blazer to the floor in shock.

“Yeah. Joras had a huge fucking forest, and he led me into it to look for mushrooms or some shit. Can’t remember. Next thing I know, he’s shoved me into a pit, and by the time I’d climbed out, he was long gone and it was night. I think…I think it was supposed to be my grave, ‘cause it was really fucking deep. Or at least it seemed that way. Maybe I’m misremembering.”

Somehow, Nami doubted that. Sure, memories could get warped with age and fear, but some details remained solid for the rest of a person’s life. “But, you got out, right? And I’m sure your parents must have been worried sick!” She could almost picture it. A young Ikkaku, sticks and leaves caught in her messy curls, knees and elbows scraped, face covered in dirt and tears, frightened but once more able to smile when she was finally found, her mother and father scooping her into their arms, scolding her for worrying them but just so relieved she was safe…

At least, that’s what Bellemere or Mister Genzo would have done if Nami had gone missing.

From the bitter laugh that escaped her throat, Ikkaku hadn’t been so fortunate. “I spent three days wandering around those fucking woods, scared and cold and wondering if I was gonna die out there. My parents didn’t even notice I was gone.” After a long moment of silence, her fist unclenched and some of the tension eased out of her shoulders. “Gramps found me, though. When I didn’t come home after two days and a storm rolled in, my brothers Nausagi and Fukuro ran two miles to the lighthouse to tell him what Ushi had done. Maybe they realized he’d gone too far. Or they were scared I’d come back as a vengeful zombie. Either way, Gramps rescued me and demanded custody. Mama and Pops were glad to hand me over. One less mouth to feed, and I wouldn’t be causing their Future Marine Hero any more trouble.”

“That’s…that’s horrible.” And yet Nami could tell she was getting the abridged version of the story. “Tell me your grandfather was a better guardian.”

Despite the childhood trauma she’d just confessed to, Ikkaku merely shrugged, a small grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “Yeah. He was. Gramps was crazy, but he loved me and taught me how to fight. Told me to never lose my smile, ‘cause that’s my best protection against a world that’ll try to break me.”

“Bellemere said something similar to me and Nojiko. ‘Whatever happens, never lose your ability to laugh. If you can survive, happy times, lots of ‘em, will come your way’.”

“Smart lady.” She tried to casually run her fingers through her hair, only to find them caught in the tangled knots. She let out a light chuckle at her predicament and added, “I think she and Gramps would have gotten along pretty well. Well, assuming she liked salty former smugglers who had the gumption to threaten Law with a shot gun. Not that he didn’t deserve it a little.”

Nami had to smile at that, and she could only imagine what he’d said that had nearly gotten him shot. It was definitely something snarky, a shit-eating grin on his face while he provoked a protective grandfather just because he could.

Noticing Ikkaku’s hair situation, she abandoned her suit to instead pick up a wide-toothed comb. “Well, I’m not sure about Bellmere, but I’d certainly love to meet him.”

“Of course you would.” Leaning back in the chair, she allowed Nami to carefully put her thick curls to rights. “How was shopping? Boss show you the blinding sights of the city?”

“It was…enlightening,” she said cautiously. There was still so much to sort out, and every time she thought she had an answer to one of her questions, four more popped up in its place.

Grabbing the pen she’d been playing with earlier, Ikkaku handed it to her over her shoulder. “Here; I made you something, since I doubt you’ll be able to bring your Clima-Tact with you. Kinda why I was so focused—I wanted it to be ready by tonight.”

Curious, Nami inspected the item. It was a plain black ballpoint pen maybe a bit longer than her hand. There was an almost unnoticeable jolly roger engraved into the middle, and she ran her thumb over it idly. “You spent the whole afternoon making me a pen? I could have just as easily brought my stylus.”

“Oh, but a stylus is only good for writing. This is so much more useful. ‘The pen is mightier than the sword’, right? Click the top.”

She did so, and instead of an ink-filled nub, a small syringe, similar to an epi-pen, popped out. Her eyes widened in realization as Ikkaku explained, “Inside’s a powerful tranquilizer. Should knock any fool out in minutes if injected into the bloodstream. Takes longer if it’s ingested. It’s non-lethal to humans, so it should be safe to use on anyone you’re looking to knock out. Assuming they aren’t really Fishmen in disguise.”

“Why? Does it react differently for them?”

She grimaced. “Yeah. Severe allergic reaction. Anaphylactic shock typically. So, unless you want that on your conscience, humans only.”

Tucking the pen away for later, Nami nodded in understanding and went back to combing her hair. “Gotcha. Doubt it’ll be a problem, though. Jean Bart said this place is pretty humans-only.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s impossible for someone to have that kind of bloodline. If it’s diluted through a few generations, a lot of the time you can hide it and pass for human.”

“Hmmm, hadn’t thought of that.”

There was a moment where Nami could tell she was mulling something over. Even faced away from her, Ikkaku wasn’t hard to read, and it was only a matter of time before she voiced whatever question was on her mind.

While she waited, the ginger took the time to appreciate the texture of Ikkaku’s hair, combing out each curl individually so it wouldn’t frizz. The thick, black locks were coarser than her own, yet surprisingly soft despite her hard life at sea. Hair maintenance was extremely difficult living on the ocean, the salt and fluctuating weather of the Grand Line wreaking havoc on Nami’s much finer strands. And while Ikkaku was far more feminine than one would expect upon first meeting her, in the time they’d roomed together, she didn’t seem to put much more extensive care into her shiny locks than some leave-in conditioner.

Guess she’s just got some good genetics, Nami thought appreciatively. Either that or she’s hiding some amazing shampoo formula, and damn if she is I’ll never forgive her!

When Ikkaku at last broke her silence, the hesitation in her voice was palpable. “Hey, it was a Fishman who held you prisoner all those years, right? You ever…blame all Fishmen for what he did?”

It was an unexpected question, but a fair one, Nami supposed. Arlong had committed a crime so heinous she knew she’d never forgive him, and she knew there were plenty of people, especially ones who spent years abused by such a monster, who would project that hatred onto an entire race. But why even ask?

“I…not really. I mean, I can’t say I never lumped them all together in my head, since Arlong and his crew were my only baseline for Fishmen for a long time.” She bit her lip, thinking. “But that was when I was a kid. My view of things was a lot more black-and-white, mostly because I was bitter at my situation. As I got older, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was stupid to think all Fishmen were like him. He was the one who hurt me, so he’s the only one who should get my hate.”

“So, you don’t hate them all?”

She shook her head. “Nah. Hell, I was even able to forgive a member of his crew. I’m sure you heard about how Luffy punched a Celestial Dragon?”

Ikkaku craned her neck up to look at her, dark eyes widening in shocked understanding. “Yeah? You saying the Fishman he defended—”

“One of Arlong’s crew. Hatchi. Like all of them, he hurt me too, but it was on his captain’s orders, and he clearly regretted it.” Well, it had been a bit more complex than that. Hell, when they’d first encountered him again, she’d nearly gone back on her promise to Camie to rescue him. Even if he hadn’t abused her like the others, he’d still been complacent in it. Still destroyed villagers homes, held her hostage, attacked the Navy ships that tried to come to the rescue. He hadn’t been blameless in the least. She would have had every right to demand that he be left to be killed or enslaved. That it was karma come to bite him in the ass.

Yet what had swayed her, apart from Camie’s determination to save him, was her own friends’ reactions to seeing him again. Those who knew her past had immediately been ready to turn the ship around and leave Hatchi to his fate. Of course she’d expected Sanji to be her knight in shining armor and want nothing to do with someone who had abused a lady, even by proxy. Zoro and Usopp had been a bit more surprising, though perhaps it shouldn’t have been. They knew what she’d been put through. Had fought and bled for her. Despite their sometimes heated disagreements, Nami knew she could count on them to always have her back.

The one who shocked her the most was Luffy. He might have flip-flopped between reason and his stomach, but the fact was, her loving, forgiving captain had actually held a grudge on her behalf. Hatchi and Arlong hadn’t done anything to him personally, but his nakama had suffered, and that wasn’t something he’d easily set aside. That genuine show of solidarity and loyalty to her had melted what ice had still been around her heart, which allowed her to truly forgive the octopus Fishman.

Yes, Hatchi had hurt her, but her hatred was solely reserved for Arlong, not his underlings who genuinely felt remorse.

“I’m not a saint or anything but hating Hatchi…it seemed pointless. He wasn’t the one who killed my mother. And blaming all Fishmen for the actions of one seemed pretty shitty. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t kill Arlong if I had the chance, though.”

Nami could practically feel the tension drain from Ikkaku’s shoulders, and she couldn’t hide her smile before she looked away. “That’s good to know. That asshole deserves it, from what you’ve told me. He and my brother should meet, then get sacrificed to some kind of horrible sea monster. Plenty of hungry Sea Kings out there to feed.”

“Couldn’t happen to a nicer pair of guys,” Nami giggled as she ran the comb through the last strand of hair. “Though, that might be cruel to the Sea King. Poor thing deserves a better meal than shit like them.”

“True. We’ll just have to think of something else then. We can ask Law; he’s always got great suggestions.”

A shudder ran down her spine, though she had to admit, it wasn’t as horrified as she’d like. She justified it with the fact that Arlong was scum who deserved whatever painful death the likes of Law might propose. So did Ushi, from the sounds of things. Though, Law had said Ikkaku had begged him not to kill her brother. Why? Did she still care about Ushi due to their familial ties? Or was there something else?

Maybe she just doesn’t want her brother’s death on her conscience, Nami thought, putting the comb away and proceeding to raid the closet for shoes. I just hope that doesn’t come back to bite her someday.

XXX

Dinner on the Tang was certainly livelier and noisier than breakfast. Mainly because the crew didn’t have to walk on eggshells while waiting for Law to get his caffeine hit. Most of the time about a dozen different conversations could be heard, utensils clattered against plates, insults were tossed about, and laughter filled the air. But at the moment, the whole galley was silent save for Nami, who was telling the Heart Pirates—save for a few who’d been sent out on last-minute errands—all about her crew’s wild adventure on Skypiea.

“…so, after Luffy beat the crap out of him, Enel flew off to the moon in his gold airship, and we escaped the island with the help of an octopus balloon, our ship loaded with treasure!”

There was a pregnant pause as the Hearts stared at her in a mix of awe and disbelief. She’d had their undivided attention ever since Law announced that the Straw Hats had found Noland’s lost city of gold, all but demanding she tell the tale and not skimp on the details.

Naturally, those details made the story even more bizarre, practically unbelievable, but she gave them what they asked for, so they couldn’t complain. Even Law’s jaw had dropped once or twice in incredulity. Mostly at the part where Luffy’d been eaten by a giant snake and thus been hidden from Enel’s senses.

Finally, a few of the crew managed to find their voices.

“An orangutan nearly wrecked your ship with singing?” Shachi asked, face utterly baffled.

Penguin grabbed his hat and smacked him over the head with it. “That’s what you’re stuck on? That’s from way back in the beginning of the story!”

The ginger punched him in the shoulder in retaliation, which quickly devolved into a childish slap fight. “Well it’s weird, ok?”

“Weirder than Straw Hat punching Kami or the knock-up stream business or the ship that flew to the moon?”

“Yeah! You ever met an orangutan that could sing?!”

“No, but that’s not the point!”

“You met Monte Blac Cricket?” Ermine interrupted, eyes so wide the whites could be seen even under the rim of their hat, though their mouth quickly split into a smile. “Holy shit, I’d wondered what had happened to him!”

“Wasn’t he your friend or something?” Seiuchi asked through a mouth full of rice.

They shook their head, looking a little wistful, a faint blush rising to their cheeks. “Just a neighbor. The people of Lvneel were dicks to his family and anyone who associated with them didn’t get treated much better. But I always thought there had to be some truth to Noland’s story.”

“Because a city of gold is so fantastical it’s gotta be real?” Nami asked, amused. She’d half-expected everyone to laugh at her like the people on Jaya when she’d asked about Sky Island—she’d even glossed over that part, finding no reason to recap such a blow to her pride. Yet instead, they’d been respectful, even entranced by her tale. It seemed to help that she’d been able to fill in a few blanks with what she remembered from Noland’s ledger, thus adding credibility to the man himself instead of just imagining the lying fool the king’s slander had reduced him to.

Usopp would probably love these guys, she thought fondly. Not that they’d likely believe his fantastical lies, but they’d probably at least let him spin his yarns to his heart’s content.

“Because you don’t tell a king about a city of gold unless you’ve got something to show for it,” Uni interjected wisely, ladling some more curry onto her plate. He paused to smile at her with his eyes, the bottom half of his face still distinctly covered by his bandana despite it being dinnertime. This close, Nami couldn’t help but try to subtly look for signs of scarring, and in fact could spot a line of slightly-paler skin peeking out just over the edge. “That, and history’s rarely all that accurate. Full of lies and twisted to suit a certain narrative.”

“That’s the World Government way. I’m sure we’ll see plenty of it tonight,” Law stated, leaning back in his chair as he munched on some onigiri. The bulge in his cheek might have been comical, but the glint in his eye was humorless. “Can’t wait to hear the dumbass assumptions people make about us Northerners.”

Murmurs of agreement echoed throughout the room, though an angry tic formed on Nami’s forehead.

“Are you saying the stuff you had me study is going to be a load of crap?” she demanded, pointing her finger accusingly. Of course she knew history was skewed at best, but she’d spent days cramming! Had weird sexual dreams about him because of it!

Yes she was blaming the book for that and no one could stop her.

He shrugged and took another bite of rice, unbothered by her irritation. “It’s the information you’ll need to be able to regurgitate if anyone asks you about the North.”

“Yeah,” Penguin chimed in, nodding sagely. He and Shachi had finally been pulled apart by Jean Bart and had resumed eating like nothing had happened. “These people aren’t interested in the truth. They just want to feel superior to the ‘uneducated masses’.”

“Buncha pretentious pricks,” Shachi sniggered, balancing a spoon on his upper lip. “Bet they’d have a fucking fit if they found out El Dorodo’s not only real, but in the fucking sky!”

“I mean, can’t say I’d blame them,” Jude grumbled, playing a bit with his food like a grumpy child. “I figured we’d be the ones to find it, but this whole time we’ve been sailing around in a submarine for nothing!”

“You got something to say about my ship?” Ikkaku snapped, glaring at her crewmate. Behind her, Crozier, Cousteau, and Ermine made slashing motions across their throats, silently reminding him that disparaging the Polar Tang in any way in front of its chief engineer was a sure death sentence.

Before he could say anything, Uni thwapped him on the forehead with the spoon, apparently taking just as much offense. “How can you say it’s been for nothing—we’ve found tons of cool shit down here! May not have been El Dorado, but there have been some amazing sunken cities. And fish! We’ve discovered more aquatic animals than any other ocean explorer,” he pointed out excitedly, Cousteau nodding in agreement. “I mean, we’ve seen deep-sea fish not recorded in any book! Extracted hallucinogenic venom from puffer fish! Taken samples of bioluminescent plankton! We’ve seen octopi punch fish!”

“You ever figure out why they do that?” Shachi asked, cocking his head.

“Best I can figure? Spite.”

As weird as this little tangent was, Nami found herself giggling a bit at how excited Uni was. She didn’t know him too well, given how he was one of the quieter, more reserved members of the crew, but it was endearing to see him so animated and giddy as he discussed marine life.

“Plus, it’s cool to study navigational currents and everything, and underwater topography. The maps I can make from that kind of intel are really good,” Bepo added, twiddling his claws a bit beside her.

“Right! And if that’s still not enough to convince you, who needs a city of gold when you can get your hands on more sunken treasure than most pirates see in their lifetimes?” Uni asked, puffing out his chest.

She couldn’t help it—Nami’s eyes lit up with belli signs at the thought of how many sunken ships the submarine probably came across, all that gold theirs for the taking. Most treasure was basically lost once it hit the bottom of the ocean, but the Hearts’ ship and diving equipment turned the ocean floor into their personal piggy bank.

It seemed Jude had the same thought. “You’re right, you’re right,” he conceded, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, it’s a great ship, and we’ve definitely found more than a city’s worth of loot—and yes the fish are cool Uni put the spoon away—but it’s still annoying to find out that we’ve been searching the wrong place this whole time.”

“Eh, happens to every pirate crew,” Jean Bart said, sipping his drink. “You find a treasure map only to discover the gold’s already dug up. Same with legends of lost cities. The fact that the Straw Hats actually found El Dorado and came away with a profit just means they’ve got the Devil’s luck on their side.”

“Or the favor of some god. Probably not that Enel guy, though,” Shachi said with a smirk. “And hopefully nothing from Joras, either.”

There was a murmur of agreement among the crew at that, though Ikkaku looked more uncomfortable than amused. Nami wasn’t the only one to catch that, though, as Uni reproachfully smacked the side of his head with the spoon.

“Dude. Don’t joke about the eldritch horror gods, yeah?”

“Sorry,” the ginger said, blushing slightly as he wiped away the curry splattered across his face.

“Eldritch horror gods?” Nami asked, recoiling at the thought. What the fuck?! Joras sounded vaguely familiar and given the context she guessed it had to be someplace in the North Blue, but she sure as hell didn’t recall reading anything about that! Was this something related to Northern culture, or were the guys just fucking with her?

“Nothing to worry your pretty little head over, Nami-ya,” Law stated with a smirk, though she didn’t miss the glare he sent Shachi’s way. “We’ve been sailing under the ocean for over five years and I’ve yet to see a sleeping god who can turn you mad with terror.”

“No, just an underwater ruin or two that talks about him,” Ikkaku muttered, picking at her food.

Underwater ruins with tales of sleeping gods? Sounds like something Robin would be interested in, Nami thought, nervous sweat running down her neck. Not that she’d be able to blame her. Sure, the archeologist was macabre as hell, but Nami could appreciate her thirst for knowledge, creepy or not. Who knew what history and cultures had been lost to the seas? Maybe there were even Poneglyphs down at the bottom of the ocean!

Damn. Robin and Law would probably get along great. She wasn’t sure if she was frightened or comforted by this thought.

Uni seemed to notice her unease and patted her shoulder. “We’ve seen some strange stuff down there, but nothing more dangerous than Sea Kings. Which, I mean, aren’t exactly friendly guppies, but they’ll leave us be. The Tang’s Seastone coating and electrical defenses ensure that.”

Though she still found the whole concept horrifying, she was appreciated how hard Uni was trying to keep the peace and not make things needlessly frightening for her. The whole crew had a morbid sense of humor, but while she’d mostly adapted, she still found this whole conversation creepy. It made her feel a little guilty for wanting to pry into his business. Yeah, it was annoying to know the crew was hiding stuff from her, but Uni deserved a little privacy, right?

“Yeah, and if there were anything more, Uni’s fish buddies would warn us ahead of time!” Malamute added.

“Fish buddies?” Nami asked, eyebrows lifting to her hairline in surprise. So much for respecting his privacy. “Wait, can you talk to fish?”

The man in question stiffened beside her. “I, uh, I can understand fish a little,” he said, looking nervous. His large hands twisted the napkin in his lap, and he refused to look at her. “It’s a Haki thing.”

“Haki can do that?” she asked, surprised.

“Observation Haki can do a lot of things, and Uni’s the best at it on the ship,” Law cut in harshly, glare brokering no argument. “It’s a skill that’s saved our asses plenty of times.”

Nami blanched at his defensive tone. “Hey, I’ll take your word for it, but you don’t have to act like I insulted his mother or something.”

“It’s ok, Law,” Uni said, shrugging a bit, though his face seemed to sink a little further into his bandana. “I know she didn’t mean anything by it. It’s a fair question, and it is a weird talent.”

“It’s not weird. It’s fucking useful as hell and I won’t hear anyone belittling my crew.”

“I’d never belittle him—” Nami snapped, starting to stand up to give Law a piece of her mind before Bepo’s heavy paws fell on her shoulders, gently but firmly keeping her seated.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized softly. “Law doesn’t mean you. It’s just…the last person outside the crew that found out, he was extremely cruel about it. Beat Uni to a pulp and even threatened to sell him as a freak show attraction before Captain found them.”

“Oh my god,” she replied, anger cooling quickly as she covered her mouth in horror, imagining Uni bruised and bloody on the ground at the hands of some bastard. Well, that would sure as hell explain why Law had taken such offense. If such a thing had happened to Chopper because he could speak to animals, she’d likely be just as pissed. From the scowls on the rest of the Hearts’ faces, the whole crew felt similar. Her gaze flicked to the fuming captain. “I’m guessing he ended up on your operating table?”

“I wish,” he growled, gold eyes glinting in fury as he crossed his arms. “Marines showed up before I could cut out his heart. Must have been his lucky day, but luck won’t be enough to save him if I ever run into Hyena-ya again.”

“Hyena?” she asked, the name not ringing any bells.

“Bellamy the Hyena,” Bepo explained, snout wrinkling in distaste. “He’s also from the North.”

Oh. My. God, Nami thought, wondering if the world was really so small. “You said Bellamy, right? Blonde hair? Spring powers? Asshole with a stupid grin?”

Law cocked an eyebrow in mild surprise. “Seems you’ve encountered him before.”

She ground her teeth as she remembered the way he’d mocked Luffy’s dreams in the bar. “Yeah. On Jaya. His crew laughed at me for asking about Sky Island and his first mate tried to buy me. Later he stole Cricket’s gold, so Luffy went after him. I didn’t see the fight but given what an ass that guy was…yeah, Luffy wiped that stupid smile off his face.”

Once more the room fell silent, but quickly broke out into thunderous applause.

“Hah! I would have paid good money to see that!” Ikkaku laughed, spirits lifted.

“If he hurt Cricket, I’m glad he got the beating he deserved,” Ermine said with a grin.

Uni smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling happily. “When you see Straw Hat again, shake his hand for me! That guy’s a dick.”

Even Law was put in a better mood, though there was still a malicious edge to his smirk. “Good on Mugiwara-ya. Still wouldn’t mind doing some permanent damage to the fucker myself, though. Bad enough he insulted my crew, but that bastard should pick his idols more carefully.”

Nami’s brow furrowed at that. His idols? The hell did that mean?

She didn’t have time to vocalizing that question, though. Sweat ran down her neck when said smirk then took a more lecherous edge as he rested his chin on his fist, eyes glinting with mischief. “But Sarquiss-ya tried to buy you? I might have prioritize kicking his ass, then. I’m the only one who gets to be your sugar daddy.”

“Oh shut up! You didn’t even buy me new shoes!”

“You got her a suit but no shoes? For shame, Boss,” Ikkaku giggled, getting up to help Seiuchi and Jude clear the tables. “I thought you were supposed to be a ladies’ man.”

“I’m a cruel bastard who doesn’t do something for nothing. She can borrow yours.”

Sauntering over, she playfully poked him in the forehead. “Says who?”

Law snorted and childishly poked her right back. “Me. Your captain. The guy who pays your salary.”

“You pay me to keep the submarine running and sass you when you’re being an idiot.”

“I don’t pay you for that.”

“Mmmm, you’re right; that’s a service I provide for free.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say those two were siblings,” Nami chuckled under her breath.

“Right? When I was first recruited I was convinced they were secretly related,” Uni agreed.

Bepo gave them both a smile and said quietly, “I think it’s good for them. Especially Law. I think he secretly likes having a little sister again.”

Brown eyes widened at that little tidbit. Law had a sister? What happened to her? Bepo had stated the past tense, so there was either some kind of falling out or…

…oh no, she thought, turning to watch Law continue to bicker good-naturedly with Ikkaku, his expression annoyed but the glimmer in his eyes belying that he was enjoying himself. Another piece of the puzzle that was the Surgeon of Death had fallen into her lap, but it wasn’t a particularly happy one. Sure, people died or were killed all the time, but Nami couldn’t imagine what she’d be like if she’d lost Nojiko. And depending on how young they’d been or how she’d died, that could really fuck with a guy.

“Nami-ya.”

Her attention was yanked from her musing as Law called her name. He was on his feet, plate clean and smirk dangerous as he regarded her. Nami wondered whether this would be the last time she’d see him in a genuinely good mood for the rest of the evening. “It’s seven o’clock. Time to get ready to watch history be defiled by pretentious morons. And for your obnoxious thunder god’s sake, make sure you’re wearing shoes you can actually run in.”

( @ninhaoma-ya, @awesomi, @vannahfanfics)

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

Shotgun - m. tkachuk

And here is 8.7k of a road trip with Matthew Tkachuk, which honestly, is the real dream. Let me know what you think of it, reblog (I love looking at tags!!) and pop into my inbox if you’d like!

Wine pairing from someone with zero authority on the subject: a nice brut rosé - crisp, fruity, bubbly. Plus, I like the vibes. 

It all started with a text. What are the chances you can get the week after next off? Matthew had sent. Madison’s brow furrowed. Doubtful, but I can try. Are you going to tell me what this is about? There was a week left in the season before playoffs started, and with the points spread in the Pacific being what it was, the matchups were all but locked in. It took less than a minute to get a response. No :) I’ll let you know once you get an answer. She got approved for the time off two days later. Her phone rang as soon as she texted him the news. “How do you feel about road trips?”

---

Maddy had met Matthew about a little over a year prior, soon after she moved to Calgary from her hometown of Toronto. Having finished her first week of work as a computer programmer, there was nothing Madison wanted more than to let loose and enjoy a few drinks with her friends. She was sharing a two-bedroom with her best friend Emily, who Maddy would swear up and down was the sunniest, warmest, most kind person she’d ever met. Not like Maddy wasn’t a nice person — she was — but where her idea of relaxing meant going out bouldering, or camping, or a last-minute road trip, Emily was more of a homebody. 

But going out meant going out, and so Emily was happily dragged along to a bar downtown; which one, she couldn’t really say. Madison walked up to the bar as soon as they entered, catching the bartender’s eye and ordering a Tom Collins. She tapped her fingers on the counter as she waited, glancing around the room. It was ten o’clock on a Friday night, so it was plenty packed. “What are you getting?” Madison asked Emily curiously. 

She held up her Molson. “I’m a woman of simple tastes. Plus, I didn’t feel like waiting around for the bartender to actually make me a drink,” Emily added dryly. 

Maddy rolled her eyes. “What’s the point of going out to a bar when you’re just going to be drinking something you could get at the liquor store?” Emily stuck her tongue out. The bartender slid Maddy’s glass over, taking her card and swiping it through quickly. “Thank you!” she chirped, whipping around to head over and snag a free table she had seen a few minutes before. 

She never ended up getting to the table. Instead, she ran straight into 6 feet, 2 inches of pure Midwestern beef. “Woah!” Matthew said, steadying her as she watched her glass fall to the floor, thankfully not breaking but absolutely spilling its entire contents over the wood. “You good?” 

Madison nodded, grabbing a rag from the bartender. Matthew followed suit, joining her on the floor. “Got a little on my shoes, but it’ll be fine. They won’t stain.”

Matthew nodded, giving a final wipe before taking her rag and handing both back over the counter. “Did me spilling your drink all over you ruin my chances of getting your name?”

“Madison St. Pierre,” she said, laughing and sticking out a hand for him to shake. 

“Matthew Tkachuk, but—”

Maddy cut him off. “I probably already know that?” Matthew ducked his head sheepishly. “I may be a long-suffering Leafs fan, but I don’t live under a rock.”

He took a sip of his beer, leaning up against the bar. “Not from around here, eh?”

Maddy shook her head. “Just moved a couple weeks ago. I’m from Toronto, moved here for a job. I do computer programming,” she said by way of explanation. 

“A smart girl.”

She tilted her head. “You could say that.”

“Well,” he said, “I feel bad about spilling your drink on you, let me buy you another.” 

Maddy laughed. “If you insist. It’s really the least you could do.”

Matthew nodded at the bartender, ordering her another Tom Collins and putting it on his tab. “You and your friend are more than welcome to join us,” he gestured behind him to where the rest of his group was sitting, “we were playing a drinking game and could use a few more players anyway.”

And that was how Matthew met Maddy. 

---

Day 1 

Ten days later, Madison was hefting her duffel bag into the trunk of her Nissan. It was 7:00 on a Tuesday. Normally on a day off she’d be taking advantage of every possible minute of sleep she could get, but lines to cross the border could be long and they wanted to get to Montana by lunch. She waved goodbye to Emily, hopping in the driver’s seat and starting the engine. Matthew had initially suggested they just get a rental car, since it would save Maddy the 20-hour drive back. But a quick Google search let them know that the chances of finding a company willing to let them drop off a Canadian car in Nevada were slim to none. Plus, Maddy had always liked driving, so it wasn’t really an issue for her. They weren’t going to be alone on the trip; Matthew had invited Elias and Rasmus along. She felt a little bit like a school bus driver, stopping at Elias’s complex to pick him up, then Rasmus’ condo, finally pulling into the underground lot of Matthew’s apartment building. Holding one hand up in greeting, he wheeled his suitcases over to her car.

Maddy unblocked her seatbelt, hopping out to help him. “Why on earth did you need so many bags?” she huffed, turning one on its side and wedging it in between hers and Elias’s. 

He shrugged. “I’ve got a bag for the trip, a bag of actual clothes and workout stuff for the series, and the suit bag.” He hung the offending article on a hook. “Did you think I’d be able to set my vanity aside for a whole four days?”

“I should have known that would be too much to ask.”

Matty threw his head back, laughing. “Anyone ever told you how funny you are, Mads?”

“Once or twice, Ratthew,” she said, slamming the door shut. 

Maddy hopped back in the driver’s seat, jamming the key in the ignition and turning the engine on. “Next stop, boys, is America.”

---

Well technically, the next stop was a gas station off of Highway 2, about twenty minutes from the border. “Wait, wait,” Matthew said, a conspiratorial grin on his face as Madison took the pump out of the gas tank. 

She raised one eyebrow. “What?”

He made grabby hands at her keys. “Let me drive.”

“Why?” Madison asked. “I’ve been driving for like what, two hours? I’m not tired yet.”

“I’m the only American in the car.”

Maddy put the pump back. “And?”

Matthew looked sheepish. “Someone said that the border patrol officers will tell Americans ‘welcome home’ when they’re coming back. It’s never happened to me flying so I wanted to see if it would be different in a car.”

“If it means that much to you?” she said, tossing the keys over the hood of the car. Matthew caught them. Maddy rounded the back of the car before she could see him ducking his head, blushing. 

They arrived at the Piegan/Carway crossing shortly after. With exactly zero cars in front of them, Matthew pulled straight up to the booth. 

“Purpose of your visit?” the officer said, looking into the driver’s side. 

“Three of us play hockey, we’re road tripping down to Las Vegas before our playoff series starts in a few days,” Matty answered easily. 

He nodded. “And how long will you be in the States for?”

It was clear either this man had never watched a series of professional sports in his life, or he was just following a standard script. “Depends?” Matthew said, fully aware of how questionable that sounded. 

Maddy piped up from the passenger seat. “I’m driving the car back, so I’ll be back in eight days.”

“Right,” Matthew nodded, “But this trip to the US, we’ll be back in seven days. We’re flying back on the team plane, so it’s not a land crossing.” He decided to forego mentioning that, barring a sweep, they’d be back again in two weeks.

The poor officer looked bewildered. “Team plane?”

Matty shrugged his shoulders. “We play for the Calgary Flames, the team charters a plane to fly us from Calgary to wherever we’re playing and back. We decided to take the scenic route this time.” 

“Okay,” he said, but Madison still wasn’t convinced he actually understood what Matty was saying. If the border officer thought anything of the American, Canadian, and Swedish passports he was handed, he didn’t say anything. Giving a cursory glance, he handed them back. “Welcome back,” he nodded to Matthew, waving the car through the gate. Matthew pumped his fist.

---

An hour later, Matthew pulled into a dirt parking lot on the edge of Glacier National Park. “WE MADE IT!” he exclaimed, putting the car in park and throwing his hands up. 

“We drove three hours,” Elias said from the back seat. 

“And?” Matty challenged, opening the door. 

Maddy grabbed her backpack, stuffed with sandwiches and snacks that they had gotten on their way in. “If you guys brought hiking boots or good tennis shoes, now’s the time,” she said, lacing up her own boots. “There’s a loop around here that’s a little under four miles long, doesn’t sound like it’s too difficult but there is some elevation climb, so better safe than sorry.” People typically didn’t peg her for it, but Maddy was a very outdoorsy person at heart. She had taken up rock climbing in high school, and was a regular at the bouldering gyms back in Toronto until she moved. She’d found a climbing gym she liked well enough in Calgary, but with Banff just over an hour away from the city, the park had become her go-to for climbing and hiking. Matty had come with her on more than one occasion, and had surprised her with a long weekend camping for her birthday in March. The snow hadn’t all melted yet, and waking up to the powder-dusted fir trees outside of their tent had been one of the most beautiful sights of her life. 

“Everyone’s got a full water bottle?” she asked, tying up her hair. The last thing anyone wanted was to get heatstroke in one of the most remote parts of the park with only one phone that could even connect to an American cell tower. 

The group started off at a leisurely pace, wandering off-trail to check out anything and everything that caught their interest. The edge of the St. Mary Valley served as the perfect backdrop for lunch, Maddy pulling the sandwiches out from her bag and doling them out. “Oh thank God, I’m starving,” Elias said, grabbing his food from Maddy practically before she even had it in her hand. 

“Did you not have breakfast?” she asked incredulously. 

He nodded. “I did, but I’m still hungry. Should have brought snacks.” Off to his side, Matty snickered. 

 Day 2

Elias had volunteered to take over from Matthew to drive through the night, switching off sometime around sunrise with Rasmus. “I 100% have a crick in my neck,” Maddy grimaced, blinking the sleep out of her eyes and checking her phone. 

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Matthew smiled. Maddy groaned, leaning into his side. Almost instinctively, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. He unscrewed the cap of his water bottle, taking a few gulps before setting it back down on the floor of the car, where it promptly rolled away. 

“Who do I have to blow to get a decent cup of coffee around here?” Maddy groaned. Matthew almost choked on his water. He had to get his mind off of the idea of Maddy blowing anything or he was about to have an issue. He pulled out his phone, jumping on Google maps. 

“There’s a little coffee shop a few miles ahead, off of the Spruce Drive exit?” he asked tentatively. 

She yawned. “As long as they sell caffeine, I’m game.” They did indeed sell caffeine, and after inhaling two cappuchinos and a small mountain of pastries later, Maddy hopped back behind the wheel. “You sure bear claws and muffins are on the meal plan, boys?” she asked, a smile playing on the corner of her lips. 

Rasmus waved her off. “It’s not like you’re going to rat us out, are you?” 

She shrugged, wiggling her phone in her hand as she pulled up at a stoplight. “Bold of you to assume I don’t have Coach’s number in my phone.”

Matty plucked her phone from her hand, placing it back by the center console. “Be that as it may, sweet Madison, you neglect to remember that I’m the only one with coverage in the U.S.” He might not strike most people as a particularly sentimental person, but Matthew loved his family, and decided that the extra charge was well worth being able to call his parents and sister whenever he was missing them. 

She stuck her tongue out at Matthew. “You ruin all of my fun, you know that?” All he did was grin. The drive to Mesa Falls wasn’t long at all, they had just finished their food — Matty popping bites of muffin into Madison’s mouth as she drove — when she pulled over to the curb by the sign. Maddy threw the boys’ backpacks to them, pointing to the single bathroom stall in the tiny rest area. “Go change, I’ll use the car.”

“Why can’t we have the car?” Matthew complained.

She looked at him. “Three full-grown men, all over six feet, in one car. I know you see each other’s dicks all day in the locker room, but I’d really rather not have that in my car. Think.”

Matty made an “o” with his mouth. “Gotcha.”

Swim trunks were much easier to get on than a wrap bikini, Madison was finding, and the boys were finished changing well before she was done figuring out her top. She bit her lip, poking her head out of the door. “Matty?” 

He turned around, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

“Could you help me tie this?” she asked, gesturing to the halter top. “I think it’s stuck or something.”

Matthew swallowed hard, his eyes widening as he tried to stutter through a sentence. “Uh, yeah. I can do that. For sure,” he said, shuffling over to the car. He gently untwisted the straps, gathering them into a bow at the base of her neck and trying very, very hard to not think about how soft her skin felt underneath his fingers. This was one of his best friends. And best friends weren’t supposed to think about that kind of stuff. Right?

Behind them, Elias and Rasmus shared a glance. They had expected something was going on between them, really ever since the party in November, but this was something new. They had never seen Matthew gone this far for a girl before. And they liked this side of him. 

“Thanks,” she said, squeezing his shoulder before disappearing back into the car to throw on a coverup. “How long is the walk to the actual waterfalls?”

“Not long,” Elias responded. “Ten minutes or so?” It was an easy walk to the falls, which were mercifully empty when they got there. They kicked off their sandals, leaving the bags under a nearby bush. Matthew knew Madison was pretty. She wasn’t a nun and he wasn’t a saint; she had seen him shirtless more times than he could count and he had seen her come out of his guest room in nothing but an oversized t-shirt of his after she stayed the night. His thoughts hadn’t exactly been innocent. But as she pulled her t-shirt over her head, leaving her clad only in that damn red bikini, he was convinced he’d never seen a more gorgeous sight. 

She turned around just as Matthew tore his eyes away, looking mischievously at him. “Last one in?” They sprinted to the water. Matty let her win. 

---

About half of their stops had been planned in advance; the others were pulled from websites or Google suggestions or whatever their waitress’ recommendation was for a local must-see. The Idaho Potato Museum fell into the latter category. Rasmus had floated the idea shortly after they had left Mesa Falls, and seeing as how nobody had anything better to suggest, they ran with it. 

“Free taters for out of staters,” Matthew said, reading off of the pamphlet they had been handed at the welcome desk. 

“Will they give me extra since I’m Canadian?” Madison wondered aloud. “For all intents and purposes they think you live in Missouri, Matty.” The nickname rolled off her tongue so easily, she didn’t even think twice. 

He passed the paper to her, the tips of their fingers barely brushing together, but Matthew could have sworn his heart skipped a beat. “Don’t get greedy, Mads.” They walked down a dimly-lit hallway lined with black-and-white photos. 

“Did you know that the first potatoes grown in the United States were planted in Londonderry, New Hampshire, by Scotch-Irish immigrants?” Elias read off of a placard, his voice sounding like a disinterested radio announcer. 

Maddy shook her head. “I didn’t, thank you so much for imparting on me this most important knowledge, Elias.”

“My pleasure,” he replied. 

“Did you know that you could survive off of a diet of only potatoes and butter?” Rasmus chimed in, reading another sign. 

“Really?” Matthew asked, leaning in to read. He turned to Madison a moment later. “Really, apparently.”

Half an hour of wandering later, Matthew and Madison had stumbled into the “artifacts” portion of the museum. “What kind of artifacts does a potato museum have?” Maddy asked, looking supremely confused. 

Matthew wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Why don’t we see?” For some reason, he decided it would be a good idea to hold his hand out for her. And for some reason, Maddy took it. 

The “artifacts” turned out to consist of some old farm tools, dusty burlap sacks, and the world’s largest potato chip. Elias and Ramsus were on the other side of the museum, leaving Matthew and Madison to drift through alone. “Crisp, actually,” Matthew said, reading the card under the glass case. “Because I guess they’re worried about people stealing it?”

“There’s a difference?”

He shrugged. “Apparently it’s only a chip if it’s a slice of potato. This was made from dehydrated potato flakes, or something like that.” Maddy wasn’t sure if it was the sepia-tinted lighting, or the lingering memory of how Matty’s fingertips burned like fire against her back as he tied her bikini, or if there was something particularly romantic about dehydrated potato flakes, but they were alone in the room and suddenly she was looking at him a little bit differently. Matthew looked at her, gaze soft as his eyes flickered almost imperceptibly down towards her lips. Her lips. His body leaned in, and just as she closed her eyes, waiting for his lips to meet hers, wondering if they were really going to do this in the middle of the Idaho fucking Potato Museum—

“We were wondering where you guys had gone off to!” Elias’s Swedish accent cut through the silence. Matthew threw his head back, silently cursing his teammate’s timing. If Elias and Rasmus realized anything was off, they didn’t say. “The lady at the front said it’s closing in ten minutes, so we thought we should head out and get something to eat.”

Maddy nodded in agreement, her cheeks burning. “Sounds good. I could go for some food.” They made their way back outside, Matthew settling behind the wheel as he steered the car back onto the highway. He tried to shake the almost-kiss from his mind, but the more he tried to forget it, the more the memory stuck. 

Elias looked down at his phone. “Yelp says there’s an Indian place coming up on the left if that sounds good to you guys,” he said, shaking Matthew from his thoughts. 

Maddy scrunched her nose. “All due respect, I don’t trust this town to make good Indian food. Potatoes, burgers, meat, sure. I buy it. But I haven’t seen a single person of color since we left Glacier.” 

“Fair.” 

The burgers were good; nothing to write home about, but Maddy was honestly thrilled to eat something that didn’t come out of a bag. The plan had originally been to drive through the night again to reach Salt Lake City by the early morning, but Maddy made it clear her back didn’t take too well to sleeping in the car, and the others agreed. “Rasmus, mind finding a hotel nearby? Doesn’t have to be anything fancy, just somewhere not too far off of the freeway,” Madison asked. He nodded, pulling out his phone. They had gotten tired of passing around Matthew’s phone anytime they were out of Wifi range, so after a little complaining and one of Maddy’s puppy-dog eye looks, he finally relented and turned his hotspot on. 

“There’s a Holiday Inn up off of the next exit if that sounds good to you guys,” Rasmus said. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the Post Malone song that Matty had plugged in. They switched the aux every few hours. 

“Yeah, works for me.” Madison hummed her agreement; Matty nodded. Rasmus flicked on the blinkers, gently cruising down the offramp, pulling into the parking lot of the Holiday Inn about half a mile down the road. 

Madison bit the inside of her cheek. “They’re going to have rooms available, yeah?” 

“Mads, it’s May in the middle of nowhere, Idaho. I don’t exactly think they’ve got business lining up out the door.” Matty said, looking at her from the side as they walked into the hotel lobby. 

The whole trip was Matthew’s idea, so he insisted on footing the bill, handing his credit card and license over to the receptionist. Maddy snickered behind her hand. Matthew turned back to look at her, one eyebrow raised questioningly. “Something you’d like to share with the class, Madison?”

“Missouri licenses look weird,” she commented.

“And Alberta’s any better?”

She scrunched her nose. “We have a dinosaur on ours. Beat that.”

“I’ll let you have that one,” Matty said, the corner of his lip twitching as he thanked the receptionist, tucking the cards back into his wallet. She handed over the room keys, Matthew passing two to Rasmus and Elias and one to Maddy. “I had us together, if you don’t mind.” 

Madison shook her head. “Fine with me.” It wasn’t unusual for her to stay over at Matthew’s apartment, either after going out or when their movie nights ran a little long and she woke up to Matty tucking her into the bed in his guest room. She had a toothbrush in his bathroom, a change of clothes in the dresser. She had offered to take her stuff back a few months ago, not wanting any girl he might bring over to get the wrong idea. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he had said when she asked, waving her off. Though, come to think of it, he hadn’t brought any girl home — that she knew about — since sometime around the beginning of the year. 

They waved goodbye to Rasmus and Elias, promising to wake up bright and early to get the first crack at the breakfast buffet when it opened at 7. Matty swiped his card, holding the door open when the light turned green and the knob twisted. “After you, m’lady.” 

“Why thank you, good sir,” Maddy giggled, ducking under his arm into the entryway. She stopped at the end of the hall, eyes flickering into the room. 

Matthew stopped behind her. “What’s up?”

“There’s only one bed.”

His head jerked around the corner, not like he doubted her word or anything, but he needed to see it for himself. There was only one bed. One big bed, one very comfortable-looking bed, but one bed. Matty dropped his bag on the floor. “Uh...D’you want me to call down? I can see if they’ve got another room if that would make you more comfortable.”

Madison pursed her lips for a second before shaking her head. “No, it’s fine. We’re adults, we can share a bed without burning the house down.” It wasn’t like Maddy was lying for Matthew’s sake; she really was fine with it. Maybe a little too fine. But they had slept together — in the innocent sense of the word — before, and everything had turned out okay. His arm draped over her shoulder as she cuddled into his shoulder on a late night, her legs tangled in his when some of his friends from St. Louis were visiting for the weekend and took the guest room. He had offered to take the couch that night, but Maddy didn’t want to relegate him to a night of back cramps and drafty breezes, especially when he had an early practice the next day. Nobody ever made it weird, so it wasn’t weird. 

She took her bundle of clothes into the shower, relishing in the feeling of hot water raining down on her aching muscles. Maddy was loving the trip, genuinely, but being in a car for twelve hours out of the day took something out of a person. Slipping into an old college t-shirt, Madison thought for a moment about putting on a pair of sweats. It wasn’t particularly cold — the opposite, in fact — but she didn’t know if it would make Matthew feel weird if she wasn’t wearing pants. Fuck it, she thought, pulling up her boyshorts. If he had an issue with it, it was his problem. Throwing her hair up in a towel to dry, she turned the doorknob, poking her head out the door. “Shower’s open if you wanted to hop in,” she said.

Matty nodded, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “I shouldn’t be too long, why don’t you find something for us to watch?” he asked, tossing her the remote. It wasn’t quite nine o’clock, and while she was tired, Maddy knew if she tried to go to sleep she’d wake up well before dawn, and that wasn’t something anyone wanted. Madison climbed up onto the bed, tucking her feet underneath her and grabbed the channel guide. True to his word, Matthew was in and out in under ten minutes, rubbing his hair with a towel as he walked out. Athletic shorts. Shirtless. Maddy couldn’t help but give him the once-over, having to jerk her eyes back up to his face the moment she realized what she was doing. Matthew met her eyes, the ghost of a smirk playing on his face. “I can put a shirt on if you’d like…”

“No! You’re good,” Maddy replied, maybe a little too quickly to avoid suspicion. 

He ducked back into the bathroom, throwing the towel over the shower curtain. “So, what did you settle on?”

She looked back at the TV. “Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives?”

Matty jumped onto the bed. “Guy Fieri. What a legend. Awesome. Where’s he going?”

Three and a half episodes later, it was almost eleven, and Madison’s eyes were starting to droop. Sometime midway through the second episode, when Guy was visiting an Asian fusion restaurant in Colorado, her head had drifted onto Matthew’s shoulder, where it had stayed ever since. His arm wrapped loosely around her, Matty brought his hand up to brush away a stray piece of hair that had drifted into her face. “Getting sleepy, Mads?”

She yawned, nodding and trying to push herself up. “‘M looking forward to a good night’s sleep in an actual bed.”

Matthew laughed softly. “Let’s get you in bed, then.” He threw back the comforter, Madison crawling under, and reached over to the nightstand, turning off the lamps and TV. “Give me your phone,” he said. 

“Why?” Maddy asked, her brow furrowing. 

“You always forget to charge it overnight, and I don’t want you to be grumpy when it dies at 10 AM.” She mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like a concession, handing over her iPhone. Matty plugged it in, clambering beneath the sheets. “Sweet dreams, Mads. Good night.”

“Night, Matty.”

 Day 3

 The first thing Madison noticed when she woke up was the warm, unfamiliar weight slung around her waist. It took her a moment to realize that it was Matty’s arm, who hadn’t woken up yet. For some reason that she couldn’t quite identify, or maybe didn’t want to confront quite yet, it wasn’t unwelcome at all, and she savored the last few minutes of physical closeness before he woke up. And he did, wake up, that is. His cheeks reddened as he opened his eyes, pulling his arm away to wipe the sleep out of his eyes. “Sorry about that,” he said sheepishly.

Maddy ducked her head. “Nothing to be sorry about. I didn’t mind.”

Matthew yawned. “What time is it?”

“Uh, just before seven,” she said, rolling over to look at the alarm clock. “I’d love to stay in bed a little longer, but we did promise the boys we’d meet them down at breakfast soon.”

He nodded, making a very concerted effort to not read into her statements any more than he absolutely had to. “Yeah, good idea,” he said, tossing the covers off and walking into the bathroom. “I’ll sit on you if you’re not up by the time I get back out there.” Maddy took the opportunity to change, threading a belt through her jeans and half-tucking a t-shirt. “I like the look,” he said when he walked out, as Maddy was twisting her hair up into a bun. It wasn’t entirely unusual for Matthew to compliment her; she had accompanied him to more than one charity event for the Flames as his date, but she had always been dressed up. Dress, heels, makeup that she probably stressed way too much over. Dressed to the nines, never in jeans and a t-shirt before. But she didn’t really notice, the compliment meaning just as much to her as if she’d been in a floor-length gown. 

“Thanks,” she said, stuffing her clothes from the night before back into her duffel. “I packed the rest of your bag while you were in there, figured I might as well.”

It was Matty’s turn to thank her, squeezing her hand appreciatively before giving the room a quick look. “We didn’t forget anything, then?”

Madison laughed. “We really didn’t stay long enough to unpack, but yeah, we’ve got everything, don’t worry.”

---

Elias had volunteered to do the drive down to Salt Lake City. Matthew’s inner six-year-old had returned, insisting that the group stop at a dinosaur park in a rural part of Utah. What “dinosaur park” meant, Madison wasn’t sure, but it made Matty happy, so she didn’t fight it. 

The museum was mostly outdoors, with life-sized dinosaur models dotting the massive field. “Were you much into dinosaurs as a kid?” Matthew asked Madison. 

“Kind of?” she replied noncommittally. “I always loved learning about them, but never had like a ‘dinosaur phase’ like David or Cody,” she said, referring to her older brothers. “My family used to go to the Canadian Museum of Nature a ton when I was a kid, since it was only a few hours away in Ottawa, and it has like a billion fossils in it.”

“Which was your favorite?”

“Pachycephalosaurus,” she said easily.

Matthew blinked. “Pachycephalo-what?” he asked in confusion. He thought he knew all of them?

Maddy laughed. “Pachycephalosaurus. They had these really spiny heads. But secretly, I think I was a little bit of a teacher’s pet who just liked saying the name. Pretty sure they were actually native to Alberta?” she added. “What about you?”

“Well, now I’m embarrassed to say.”

“Oh, come on,” Madison said, nudging him with her shoulder. “Promise I won’t make fun of you.”

“Fine, fine,” Matty gave in, “it was the brachiosaurus.”

“How come?” she asked curiously. 

“I liked the long necks.” 

They spent another hour or so at the park, Matty grabbing a keychain on the way out. “They didn’t have a brachiosaurus,” he muttered, half-angry, picking up a T-rex one instead. It wasn’t a long drive to the actual Great Salt Lake, and for some reason, they had trusted Elias with the aux. Much to Maddy’s chagrin, he didn’t end up playing ABBA, and they were instead led to cruise down I-15 to the dulcet tones of J.S. Bach. 

Madison looked down at her phone. “Anyone want to go see the Joseph Smith sphinx?” 

“Joseph Smith?” Rasmus questioned.

“Sphinx?” asked Elias.

Matthew laughed. “You know those Egyptian statues of like the cat ladies? Where they have cat bodies but the faces of people?” 

“Joseph Smith was the founder of the Mormon church,” Madison explained. “Well, technically it’s called the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, but—”

“Know-it-all,” Matty said in a sing-song voice. Madison shot a glare at him from the back seat. 

“But most people still call them Mormons. And apparently they made him into a sphinx.”

Elias looked at her, still dumbfounded. “But why?”

Maddy shrugged. “Honestly? Beats me.” The weather had dropped too much by the time they had reached the lake to make swimming very practical, so the four of them settled for taking off their shoes, rolling up pants, and wading into the shoreline. 

Matthew bent down, picking up a chipped white rock from the ground, the water just lapping at his fingers. He handed it to Madison. “For you.”

She took it gently, running her hands over the jagged surface. “Aren’t you not allowed to take anything from a national park?”

He winked. “I won’t tell if you don’t.” They stopped at a Chipotle just as the sun was beginning to set, Matthew taking over driving duties from Rasmus. The plan was to drive for another two hours or so, stopping somewhere in southern Utah for the night to spare themselves from another night spent in her Nissan. 

They drove in silence for a while, Elias and Rasmus drifting to sleep in the back row, before a road sign caught Matty’s eyes and he spoke. “I’ve never been to the Grand Canyon, you know,” he said as they continued down I-15. 

Maddy looked over at him. “Do you want to go?” She didn’t know where the suggestion came from, but it was out of her mouth before she could take it back, and after a moment, she realized that she didn’t even want to.

His eyebrows raised as he glanced over at her before turning back to the road, the car’s headlights the only thing in sight. “You mean it?” 

Madison shrugged. “Yeah, why not?” She quickly popped the directions into her phone. “It’s only a few hours out of the way, if we drive through the night instead of stopping somewhere we should have more than enough time.” 

“But didn’t you say sleeping in the car made your back hurt?” Matty asked curiously. 

She smiled softly. “I don’t mind, really. I’ll drive. You’re more important.” Honestly, Maddy surprised herself with her boldness. She wasn’t shy by any stretch of the imagination, but it hadn’t escaped her that the dynamic between her and Matthew had changed in the past few weeks and was about to come to a boil. Matty wasn’t exactly the type of guy Madison expected to have a lot of friends who were girls. And a part of her hated that, hated that because of his reputation she automatically assumed when they became friends that all he wanted to do was get in her pants. There had only been one time in their entire year of friendship when they’d even done so much as kissed, and it wasn’t exactly what you’d consider normal circumstances.

---

It was November of the previous year, about six months after Matthew and Madison had met. Matthew had been even more in his head than normal; he hadn’t scored a single point since midway through their East Coast road trip over two weeks ago, and the disappointment was really starting to rag on him. It might not have been something he outwardly showed all that much, but those who knew him knew that Matthew was actually a deeply sensitive person, who took pride in his wins and carried losses with him well after they had faded from the minds of the rest of the hockey world. 

When it had gotten to the point where his frustration was starting to affect his game, Maddy knew it was time to do something. “You’re so much more than your stats, Matty,” she had said, calling him right before she left for the Saddledome. “I know you take this personally, and you feel like you’re letting down the team, but that’s bullshit and somewhere deep down, I know you agree.” Matthew grumbled something that might have been an agreement. “Your team trusts you, they trust you with the puck and with the A, and you’re never going to disappoint them as long as you’re giving it your all. And if you’re the Matthew Tkachuk I know, there’s never a time when you don’t. And win or lose tonight, there’s nothing you could do to change the fact that your family loves you, and your friends love you, and I love you too. Okay?” Clearly, something in her little pep talk had flipped a switch in Matty, because he returned in spectacular form that night, scoring a hat trick in a roaring 5-1 win over the Coyotes. And he didn’t throw a single punch all game. 

A good game without a travel day following usually calls for going out, and a great game with your best friend scoring a hat trick definitely calls for going out, so she dragged Emily along to the bar that Matthew had told her to meet the team at. Matthew had pulled her into a hug the moment she arrived, kissing her cheek and trying his damndest not to spill the beer in his hand on her shoes. An hour and a half into the night, Madison was four drinks in, well and truly drunk, and Emily had wandered off and appeared to be flirting with an extremely oblivious Noah Hanifin. 

“How are you doing, Mads?” Matthew asked, coming up from behind her barstool and resting his hand gently on the small of her back. 

She looked back at him, a goofy smile on her face, and took another sip of her drink. “I’m good, I’m realllly good,” she giggled. “Did I ever get a chance to tell you how good you were tonight?” Matthew shook his head, very poorly concealing a laugh. He had had more than one beer, sure, but he was nowhere near as gone as Madison. “Because you were really good. A-ma-zing,” she added, punctuating each syllable. Her eyes softened as she leaned in. “I know the points drought was starting to weigh on you, and I’m really glad you were able to do this for yourself. I’m always proud of you, Matty, but I was a little extra proud of you tonight. People sometimes write you off as just another good player without any real subsistence,” she paused, correcting herself, “substance, off the ice, but I know the real you, and the real you is even more incredible than the you that plays hockey. It’s my favorite thing to see.”

“It is?” Matthew asked softly, leaning into the hand that had begun to caress his cheek a little bit imprecisely, but that somehow communicated every kind of unsaid word between them. 

Madison nodded, touching his forehead to hers, and then she tilted in. And then she kissed him. Her lips met his, and she tasted like lime and spearmint chewing gum and his favorite kind of tequila. Her lips met his, and it seemed like the room stood still; he barely heard his teammates’ wolf-whistles or Emily’s elated gasp in the background. Her lips met his, and he drank in every second of the kiss until she pulled away. 

---

Maddy hadn’t been drunk enough to black out that night, and she came to the next morning with a roaring headache and the pang of regret in her heart. She thought it was shame at her behavior, embarrassment that she could act so impulsively, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized. The fact that she kissed Matthew wasn’t the issue, not to her, at least. It was the fact that she was drunk in a bar after a hockey game and that wasn’t how she wanted it to happen. She pushed her feelings to the side, trying desperately to focus on work and supporting Matty through the rest of the season, but they always tended to flare up when they were least welcome. Like at the Idaho Potato Museum.

Which of course meant that Matthew would choose this moment, driving down I-15 with two sleeping Swedish hockey players in the backseat, to bring it up. ��I remember when you kissed me, you know,” Matty said softly, reaching up to brush his fingers over his lips, like if he tried hard enough he could remember what it felt like to have Maddy’s pressed against his. 

Madison froze, which isn’t exactly what you’re supposed to do when you’re driving. She thought he had forgotten. He had never brought it up, so she really had no reason to believe he would have remembered. “You do?” she asked, swallowing.

She saw him nod out of the corner of her eye. “Mhm. I hadn’t thought about it in a couple weeks, but back in Idaho, in front of the World’s Largest Potato Crisp…” He let out an airy chuckle. 

Maddy breathed in sharply. So she hadn’t imagined that. Her fingers tapped nervously against the faux leather of the steering wheel. “Yeah…” She trailed off nervously. “I was drunk.”

“Oh, you were hammered,” Matthew agreed. “But do you regret it?”

There it was, the million-dollar question that she somehow actually had the answer to. A long moment passed before she answered, figuring it would be best to just rip the band-aid off. Worst case, Matty would hate her and she’d only be stuck in a car with him for ten-odd more hours. No big deal. “No,” she whispered, voice so small he almost didn’t hear it. 

“I’m glad, because I don’t either,” Matty said. Madison hazarded a glance to her side; he looked almost nervous, and nervous wasn’t a look Matthew Tkachuk did all that often. “I had wanted to for a few months, but it always seemed like it was never the right time, or something interrupted us, or I didn’t know how you felt about me. But you made the first move, and I’m glad you did.”

“How come?”

He sighed. “I don’t know how long I would have waited to do something, or if I ever would have done anything. I feel like sometimes…,” he searched for the right words, “the confidence that I have on the ice can be misleading. Hockey is about reflexes and instincts and knowing the game, but it’s also thinking three steps ahead, anticipating every possible outcome and preparing for them. And that’s the part that I carry off the ice. I think I was worried if I ever brought it up with you, if I ever mentioned that I so much as remembered the kiss, you might clam up and tell me it was a stupid, drunken mistake, and I don’t know what I’d do if you said that. Because I don’t know how you feel about me, not like that”

Her breath caught in her throat, but she managed to force the words out, as scared as she was about admitting them. “I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.” Matthew had never seen Madison like this before, unsure and worried and downright vulnerable, and it meant so much to him that she was letting him see her like that. 

Matthew let out a watery laugh. “Only pretty sure? Hurts my ego a little bit.” Maddy opened her mouth, but he waved her off. “Because I’m definitely sure I’m in love with you.” This wasn’t ever how she imagined telling him, and it wasn’t how Matty thought he’d tell her, on a freeway in Southern Utah on their way to the Grand Canyon, but sometimes life throws unexpected things at you and you have to roll with the punches. 

“When did you know?” Madison asked curiously. 

Matthew bit his lip. “Few months ago? I knew I liked you as more than a friend probably since you kissed me, but it was after that game against Vancouver that I really understood I had fallen in love with you.” Maddy remembered the game. It had gone terribly for the Flames, a 4-0 shutout with more than one fight and the bench racking up penalty minutes. What she didn’t know was what made that one special. Matthew looked over at her, answering her unspoken question. “Why that one?” She nodded. “I think it’s because it was such a shitty game. I wouldn’t have blamed you at all if you had just skipped out after the end of the third, I know I can be hard to deal with after a loss. But you didn’t leave, you stayed. I remember seeing you outside the tunnel, swallowed by my jersey because it’s three sizes too big for you and you refuse to let me buy you another—”

“I don’t want another because it’s yours, and I love it,” Maddy said quietly.

Matthew smiled. “Your call. But when I turned the corner and saw you, I realized three things at the exact same time. You were there for me when you didn’t have to be, and I wanted to be able to do the same thing for you. Second, you’re who I wanted to come home to. And last,” he gathered his thoughts, “I realized if I never saw another girl in my jersey for the rest of my life, that would be fine with me.”

“I think I knew when you introduced me to your family, when you flew me down for the All-Star break?” He nodded in recognition. “Just seeing you with them, how much you love your parents and adore Taryn. You even managed to not chirp Brady for a whole dinner.”

“My mom threatened me.”

Madison laughed. “Even so. It just gave me a whole new side to you. I had seen you with your friends, and with the boys, and with me, but it wasn’t the same. How deeply you cared about making sure I fit in with them, and had fun, and felt included. It was the last piece of the puzzle, really.” Her hand rested on the center console after she downshifted.

“So, are we going to do this? Do you want to do this, Mads?” Matty asked, wrapping his fingertips gently around her free hand. 

Flipping her hand around, she interlaced her fingers with his. “I’m all in if you are.”

Matthew bent down, kissing their hands. “I’ve been all in since the moment I met you.” He glanced behind him to the backseat, where Elias and Rasmus were still fast asleep. “What do you think they’re going to say when they wake up?” 

“I’m not sure,” Madison said, laughing. “Probably tell us it’s about time. Pass me my phone, will you?” Matthew pulled out her phone from where it was charging on the passenger side. 

“What do you need to look up?” he asked curiously as she pulled off of the freeway and into a gas station; the directions were already programmed into the car’s navigation system.

Maddy gave a coy smile, gently putting the car into park. “I’ve got to text the girl’s chat, tell them they’ve got to make me a jacket. They’re going to go wild.”

 Day 4

 The chat did go wild, even more so after she sent a picture of her kissing Matty’s cheek. After about a half-dozen “we called its” and a promise for her jacket to be ready by the first home game of the series, she turned her phone off, leaning over to ruffle Matthew’s hair; he had taken over driving sometime around four o’clock. “I like that I can just do this now,” she mused, playing with his curls as they crossed the border into Arizona. 

“Please, no PDA in front of the children,” he said playfully, gesturing to the backseat. Elias flipped him off. 

The entrance to the Grand Canyon was only an hour past the state line, and there were more than a few cafés to grab a quick breakfast at. Most of the day was spent walking around the vast expanse of the park, marvelling at its natural grandeur, and taking more than a few incredibly aesthetically pleasing Instagram pictures. A few minutes before they had to pack up and leave for the last leg of the drive, they had hiked over to the South Rim. 

Matty leaned on the barriers overlooking the canyon. “It’s so big.” 

Rasmus snickered from behind them. “Duh, Tkachuk. That’s why they call it grand.” 

He ducked his head, blushing. “Yeah, I mean, obviously. But it’s just kind of surreal, you know?” Madison nodded, leaning her head on his shoulder. He wrapped one arm around her waist, and if either of them had turned around they would have seen Rasmus and Elias sharing a very “I-told-you-so” look. “Kind of reminds us how small we are in the grand scheme of things.” 

It seemed like only a few minutes later that they were pulling into Las Vegas, Rasmus steering the car into the underground lot of the team hotel. None of the boys were expected at practice until the next morning, and they had decided before leaving that the easiest thing to do would just be to book the rooms for the one night. 

“Anyone feeling up to going out?” Maddy asked as they walked down the hallway to their adjoining rooms. “I found a tiki bar a couple blocks away, great Yelp reviews.”

“Sounds good,” Rasmus said. Elias nodded. 

“I’m in,” Matthew added, unlocking the door. “Meet out here in ten?”

The break allowed Madison to get a much-needed change of clothes while Matthew hopped in for a quick shower, emerging in a T-shirt and very, very nice-looking pair of black jeans. Maddy bit her lip, looking him up and down. “You like what you see?” Matthew asked, expression cocky. 

She shrugged. “I don’t have to hide it now.” Madison slipped her phone into her back pocket, grabbing her jacket from where it was slung over the lounge chair. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Matthew said, poking his head out the door. “Boys are already out.”

The walk to the bar couldn’t have been more than five minutes, but it felt like twenty in the best way possible. She was holding hands with Matty, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing over the top of her hand, the twinkling lights of dozens of Vegas casinos in their view. Two and a half mai tais and an hour later, the group sat at a table in the corner as Maddy giggled, retelling a particularly embarrassing moment on her high school volleyball team when she tried to make a dive that instead ended up with a ten minute pause in gameplay and the worst nosebleed of her life. She finished the story to raucous laughter, leaning into Matthew’s side. He bent down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “What is it, Matty?” she asked, pulling away to look at him. 

Eyes soft, he tucked a piece of her hair back behind her ear before speaking. “Just thanking God I invited you on the trip. And for the Idaho Potato Museum.”

Madison laughed, the sound like music as it reached his ears. “We should write them. Thank them for helping to get us together. Maybe they’d give us season tickets.”

“Who needs season tickets when I have you?” Matty chuckled, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers.  Sure, Madison was a few drinks in when she kissed him. And sure, it wasn’t like Matty was exactly sober either. But this kiss was different. This kiss was the start of everything. 

[malereader-inserts]

broken crown | xi.

Jumping over some fallen tree as you landed, the ground beneath you started to spontaneously grow roots, latching onto the feet of some snatchers - the roots growing quickly and ultimately wrapping around their necks, you were glad you did not have to watch how the life drained from their eyes.

Word Count:  2,691 ((it’s a long one))

< Previous | Next >

“I don’t blame him,” You mumbled, barely escaping the attack at Lovegood’s house, “We can’t out him and his action, he’s just desperate.”

Ron was annoyed though, but, he had reconsidered only because everyone had seemed to silently agree to you. There was no lead to the next horcrux which left Harry frustrated. As Ron went to do enchantments and Hermione the tent, you pat Harry on the shoulder.

“It’ll be a new year soon, H,” You hummed, throwing your arm over his shoulder, “We’ll be facing new beginnings, I can already tell.”

Harry looked at you, and clashed his shoulder to your chest as you pretended to be wounded with his actions. Hermione, finishing putting the tent up, watches her two best friend just being them. She smiled to herself, noticing how Harry reaches out for you, holding your hand and squeezing it. 

She watches how your other hand rest upon Harry’s cheek, your thumb rubbing against his skin. Hermione’s shoulder deflate as she sees both her best friend madly in love with each other, melting in each other’s touch. She, then, looks at Ron, who was slowly finishing with the enchantments.

She adored the love you and Harry shared between each other. It was natural, soft yet fiery. It seem to be a love that was sublet but yet so powerful. Often times, many cannot believe that Harry could snag such a charming man like you. You had boy and girls fawning over your smirks and the twinkle in your eyes. Whilst you were similar to your dad, often at times, your friends see a Lupin who is wilder than your dad. But, behind your mysterious personality, your friends truly saw you for what you were. 

Mad, in a sense, curious about everything and most definitely ambitious. Hermione smiles to herself as words you often uttered had escaped into her mind: “You need a little bit of insanity to do great things.”

“What’s got you smiling there, Hermione Granger?” You asked, sitting by her, “Thinking about a certain someone?” You had teased, bumping shoulders.

“Shut up!”

You laughed, throwing your head back. Harry, sometimes loses faith and hope, but when he sees you - there’s just that little hope you give him to hang on a little bit more.

“You’re an IDIOT!”

You have had a quiet few months, with dead ends to where the next Horcrux could be. You had time to evaluate yourself and you were at the final stretch, in fact you’ve been doing extra magic around camp. Even started to make a healing spell but the only downside was the fact that some cuts would turn into scars instantly. 

Harry had been wondering what offensive magic you had under your arsenal, after all, he had heard tales that Merlin was vicious in battle, fury within him whenever harm had touched his friends and it was no different to you.

But, currently, the four of you were running because your idiotic boyfriend had accidentally said Voldemort name, triggering the taboo. So, you were running from the snatcher and Fenrir Greyback, who had it in for you.

Jumping over some fallen tree as you landed, the ground beneath you started to spontaneously grow roots, latching onto the feet of some snatchers - the roots growing quickly and ultimately wrapping around their necks, you were glad you did not have to watch how the life drained from their eyes. 

“Oh, you’ve got to teach me that!” Ron says, very impressed as you were unimpressed with his comment.

“Absolutely not!”

Truth be told, Fenrir wanted you, the moment he had noticed you were there he wanted blood. After Lyall Lupin, your grandfather had insulted werewolves it seemed like Fenrir had a grudge against your family. He didn’t even want to sink his teeth in you, in fact, he wanted to scar you - to remind you that you were forever be on his list to torment. 

As you get cornered in the forest, Fenrir was quick to incapacitate you, two of his claws scratches your face, making your fall to the floor, stomach against the floor. You could hear voices around you, drowned out as you try to heal yourself. Cringing as you touch the scratch, which you were thankful it wasn’t deep as Bill’s or your dad. There was one scratch from your eyebrow over your left eye to your nose, the second scratch was just your upper lip. Then another scratch had come out of nowhere, three cuts down the back of your neck.

You were lucky, Fenrir had terrible aim. 

“This one’s a Lupin-” You heard over the muzziness, “I get to keep this one.”

“SHUT HIM UP!” Bellatrix voice had echoed through the manor.

Draco gulping as he watched Hermione get tortured by his aunt and the werewolf having fun with you. Hermione was screaming, but you were begging. Draco couldn’t look at you because you were just bloody. Both your arms full with long cuts wrapping around your forearm, Draco was convinced the werewolf was trying to make his torture like a work of art.

But, Draco could see the frustration in the werewolf, as your wounds would start to heal by itself. Draco couldn’t believe his eyes, no one had ever pulled magic like that.  Fenrir was smart enough not to bite you, he didn’t want you to have the cravings of a werewolf, he wanted to damage you, with scars that barely fade to remind you that you were the grandson who insulted the werewolves. 

“Expellliarmus!” You heard Harry’s voice, you could see from the bright lights over you there was a battle going on. 

You had mustered as much magic as you can to knock Fenrir off you, as you slowly sat up. Feeling weak in yourself as you see Bellatrix pick Hermione off the floor whilst holding a knife to her neck.

“Stop! Drop your wands,” Bellatrix had commanded, looking over to them, “I said, drop them!” There were thuds of Ron and Harry dropping their wands, as Bellatrix looked at her nephew, “Pick them up, Draco, now.”

Draco slowly picks up Harry’s and Ron’s wand, standing off to the side. She smirked as the stinging jinx had started to fade from Harry’s face, revealing him. There was a triumph in her that her family could impress the dark lord in bringing Harry to him

“Well, well, well, look what we have here. It's Harry Potter! He's all bright and shiny and new again, just in time for the Dark Lord,” There was a sinister glee to her tone as you lean against a table to pick yourself up, “Call him.”

Her order was directed to Draco, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. These were people in his year, people who did good. When Draco hesitated, his father stepped up, flashing his mark to the group, as he was to call the dark lord, everyone stopped as they heard squeaking.

Everyone looked up to see Dobby unscrewing the chandelier, as it drops. Bellatrix lets go of Hermione, who lunges forward to Ron’s arms. Harry quickly grabs the wands from Draco’s hand.

“Stupefy!” Harry cast the spell, aiming to Lucius, before grabbing you in his arms.

He allowed you to lean over him as he groups you up with Dobby, Hermione, Ron and Griphook. 

“Stupid elf,” Bellatrix hisses before exclaiming loudly, “You could've killed me.”

“Dobby never meant to kill,” Dobby proclaimed, “Dobby only meant to maim or seriously injure.”

As Narcissa waves her wand to cast a spell, Dobby snaps his fingers. The wand flying straight into his hands as his old master looked dumbfounded.

“How dare you take a witch's wand?” Bellatrix screamed in fury, “How dare you defy your masters?”

Dobby straightens his back and looked at Bellatrix’s in the eye with no fear,  “Dobby has no master. Dobby is a free elf. And Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends.”

You all grip onto Dobby, who starts to apparate out of the Malfoy Manor. Landing on a beach. Landing on your knees as Hermione had held onto you, who was being held by Ron. 

“(Y/n)!” Harry exclaimed as he got up from lying down, “Hermione!”

He had approached the two of you, clearly shaken. He placed a comforting arm around you, his eyes flickering to the closed cuts on your arms, noticing they were line vines, wrapping around your arms. You had swallowed as you gripped your boyfriend.

“You're all right. We're safe,” Harry reassured you, then looking at Hermione and Ron, “We're all safe.” 

“Harry Potter...” A little voice had spoken, everyone had turned to see Dobby, impaled with Bellatrix’s knife.

In a hurry, Harry quickly goes to Dobby’s aid and Ron took noticed of Bill and Luna coming down towards the hill. As Bill ushered everyone, you see Luna and Harry talking and seeing Dobby, limp in his arms. Harry buries him with Ron and Hermione, but you stayed indoors with Bill who was examining your scars.

“Scars from Fenrir don’t heal that quickly or easily,” He says, tenderly holding your arm as you sat down in the kitchen as Fleur comes downstairs and takes over from her husband, they weren’t scars but closed wounds slowly healing. But, Fleur took initiation to clean the blood from your arms.

“It’s beautiful here,” Luna compliments

“It was our Aunt’s. We used to come here as kids. The Order uses it now as a safe house -- what’s left of us, at least...”

Bill and Fleur allowed everyone to stay, you had healed over quite nicely and you got out lucky with werewolf scratches to fade. They still were very prominent but your friends, especially Harry had noticed that you kept your sleeves down mostly. Harry mustered up a plan for once, breaking into Gringotts whilst Hermione transformed into Bellatrix from plucking her hair back at the manor. 

“You think it’ll work?” Hermione asked, everyone had often found you sitting outside, just close to the back door, Bill and Fleur hadn’t understood why.

But, your best friends had understood that during that night at Malfoy Manor, it was the first time you had used a lot of powerful magic beyond your years. You were recharging, but you were stubborn, believing if you continue to use it, you’ll get used to it. 

“I like to believe so,” You say as Hermione sits by you, watching you grow flowers in the sand before promptly killing them, “Can you believe it’s Easter now?”

“Time flies, it seemed like yesterday we were in Xenophilius house asking about the deathly hallows.”

“I do wonder if I could pull off his dress sense, you think I could, Hermione?” 

She cracks a smile, “Absolutely, I think you’ll be in your truest form, Merlin.”

You give her a narrowed look, rolling your eyes promptly, “I’m not Merlin.”

Hermione sighs, “No,” watching you play with your magic, seeing how you’ve gathered a lot of strength with your magic. Not even her could believe that you show such great power with ease, “But you’re (Y/n) Lupin. And that’s even better.”

By mid-April, with preparation half-way to being done for the heist, everyone was eating in the Cottage. You had lost appetite, going out to the garden, leaning against the fencing. 

“What’s wrong with (Y/n)?” Bill has asked looking at the three.

“He’s preoccupied that’s all.”

Your back to the cottage, you got caught up messing about with your compass. Mumbling Latin words under your breath, trying to think what purpose it should hold to you. Not hearing the commotion inside the cottage.

“It is I, Remus John Lupin!” called a voice over the howling wind. “I am a werewolf, married to Nymphadora Tonks, and you, the Secret Keeper of Shell Cottage, told me the address and bade me come in an emergency!”

“Lupin,” muttered Bill, and he ran to the door and wrenched it open. 

Remus fell over the threshold. He was white-faced, wrapped in a travelling cloak, his greying hair windswept. He straightened up, looked around the room, making sure of who was there, then cried aloud, “It’s a boy! We’ve named him Ted, after Dora’s father!”

Hermione shrieked. “Wha—? Tonks – Tonks has had the baby?”

 “Yes, yes, she’s had the baby!” shouted Remus.

All around the table came cries of delight, sighs of relief: Hermione and Fleur both squealed, "Congratulations!” and Ron said, “Blimey, a baby!” as if he had never heard of such a thing before. 

“Yes – yes – a boy,” said Remus again, who seemed dazed by his own happiness. He strode around the table and hugged Harry.

He had let go of Harry, once again examining everyone indoors. His eyes flicker to Hermione then Ron then to Harry. His happiness seemed to wear off for a second as Harry looked confused.

“Remus-?” He question.

“Where’s my boy, Harry?” Remus asked, trying to conceal the urge of hurry within his voice, desperately wanting a hug from you.

Harry’s eyes flicker to the back door, “He’s outside.”

Remus looks at the others, “Go, we’ll celebrate in a bit, go see him,” Bill shoos him off as he exited through the back door.

He hears you humming and looking down. Noticing your eyebrows furrowed and you watch the pointer spin rapidly.

“What is your heart desiring?” You jumped at his voice, “Still Harry?”

You pointer had stopped in the direction of your dad’s voice, you slam it shut. Turning around to look at him, he takes a good look at you, hoping to burn it in his mind. He hopes that you have forgiven him, he doesn’t know if you remember what happened months ago.

“Dad!” You exclaimed, a smile beaming upon your face, lunging to hug him as he catches you effortlessly, “What are you doing here? How’s Dora? How’s Sirius?”

Remus chuckles, “And to think, you missed me,” He leans you out of the hug, “Sirius is alright, Dora is great, she’s given birth to a baby boy.”

“A baby?” You responded dumbfounded as Remus’ smile reaches his ears.

“You’re a big brother, (Y/n), you have a little brother!”

As you snap out of your shock, “What’s his name?”

“Named after Dora’s dad, after-” You nodded, knowing he didn’t need to vocalise the death of Ted Tonks, “Teddy Remus Lupin.”

“Seems fitting,” You chuckled, as Remus’ smile drop as he noticed something.

You looked at him with knitted eyebrows as he placed a gentle hand on your cheek, delicately tilting your head to see the scar from the snake attack. He felt you shift uncomfortably as his eyes flickered down to your arms.

“What happened-?”

“Freak accident,” You responded almost immediately that you cringed as Remus raised an eyebrow, “Well, this one,” pointing to the front of your neck, “Was a snake attack and these,” motioning to your arms, “Fenrir Greyback.”

“Who?” Venom had dripped from your father’s words, as you stiffen.

“Never mind that, that’s a story for another time, but for now we have to celebrate, Teddy!” You changed the subject tugging your dad to the indoors, “Come along.”

“Wait, (Y/n),” He stops, as you looked at him with a tilted head, “I’m sorry about the-”

“Don’t apologise, it’s worth it,” You responded, shrugging your shoulders, “You went back to Dora and that’s the forgiveness you needed the most.”

“You took your time, Moony!” Sirius greeted his best friend’s arrival.

Tonks came downstairs, “How’s Bill and Fleur?”

“They’re doing well,” Remus answered, removing his cloak, the Black relatives noticed there was a spring in Remus’ step and was a little bit more overjoyed than usual, “Of course, as well as Harry, Hermione, Ron and (Y/n).”

Sirius and Tonks’ got excited with the mention of Harry’s and your’s name, beckoning Remus to the living room to talk about the interaction. Sirius shoulders relaxing upon hearing the state of Harry, he was alive. Tonks, caring for Harry obviously was more concerned with you. But, by the looks of Remus, Tonks could relax thinking you were alright.

“I’ve had a few drinks so bear with me-”

Tagged

@carefulthatsharassment-sir​​ @lanlanlan020202​ @hanniejji​ @dumbssbtch​ @lea-the-foxe​ @stan-joonies​ @littertortilla @purpleshusbandd

[gravedangerahead]

Knives Out spoilers ahead

I loved this movie so much, I wanna rewatch already, and I don't even like going to the movies that much because I have trouble sitting still and paying attention (and not talking) for extended periods of time. Here are some thoughts:

I LOOOVE Marta and I'm so happy she won by being a good kind person, and "playing to make pretty pattern"

The girl who is "getting a degree in SJW" and supposedly cares about marginalized people did a pretty horrible thing and threw Marta under the bus when her privilege was threatened

In fact, all the rich white liberals weren't any better than the conservatives once they had something to lose

I was kind of shocked to see an alt-right troll, "literally a nazi", in a mainstream film, and it was hilarious

I loved that the patriarch was very flawed. He made everyone play by his rules, and he was part of the reason for his family's insanity, but he was kind hearted and loved Marta so much. He didn't just give har the money to screw with his blood family, or help them and teach them a lesson, he cared about her! And he's so dramatic, I love him!

Which made the reveal that he should have listened to her really sad

But maybe he would have liked going out this way, one last big mystery

She's a good nurse!!! I'm crying

The villain was good, and fun!

"Maybe this will be the best thing that ever happened to all of you"

The social commentary was great, so many good little details! "You're like family", "I was outvoted", "We'll take care of you"

They can't even remember where her family is from, they're such assholes

What a horrible, horrible family

But in a really believable, grounded way. You've met these people

That scene where they put her in the center of the conversation and tried to make her into a prop to be used against the big, bad, illegal immigrants was very uncomfortable, I wanted to kill that guy

The movie doesn't go into some hypertragic backstory to justify why her family deserves to be there, even illegally. It's just assumed that if you're not an asshole you don't want them deported

The detective is great! I couldn't tell you in a million years if his accent is good, but I love it! He's smart, but also kind and charming

He sings showtunes in the car! He likes Sondheim! And so does Aziraphale! Thank you, 2019! That bit of you was good!

I wish I was better with names

The fanboy detective is funny and valid

When Marta throws the thing away behind the detective's back and the doggies bring it back lol

"Ancestral home" lmao. I laughed about that and was about to start snarking when the movie snarked better than I could

I loved the opening scene, amazing music

I loved the last shot, oh my god

I love the rest of the movie, in between those, never a boring moment

It was great! Go watch it!

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Lie to Me

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33943738

Summary: In an AU where L wins the Kira case and Light goes to prison instead of being executed, L gets it into his head that Light should become an executor: because that would see his need for justice and killing done.

Author’s Note: This is actually the first idea I had and first thing I started writing after I finished watching Death Note.I wasn’t sure I was comfortable sharing it with you guys. But I guess I am:)

L’s PoV

L was heading towards… a certain place after the Kira case had been closed for quite some time.

And why he was heading there, he wasn’t entirely sure. It wasn’t as if he owed Yagami Light anything…

Perhaps, L thought, as he now walked into the prison that housed the mass murderer, he was doing this because he wanted to believe if he ever got locked up, someone with his mind would be given a chance like this… or something much better than this idea.

But whatever the reason was, L was walking towards Light’s cell now, to offer him a deal: a deal that had been playing in the back of L’s mind for a long time, even while he’d also been trying to come up with any and all evidence to incarcerate Light.

Finally—after all sunlight faded away and the last seagull silenced itself—L was being led through the massive metal door that would lead him to Light. And L would be facing him by himself. Something that Watari and everyone at Wammy’s House had loudly protested, but L knew that to even get a twenty-seven percent chance that Light would listen to any of this, he would have to go it alone.

L had reassured everyone, of course, that Yagami Light wasn’t one for killing people without his favorite magical notebook. And he knew that he’d be watched on any and all available monitors like a hawk, which was fine.

The Wammy’s boys (Near, Mello, and Matt—perhaps Matt and Mello in particular) had tried to convince L to bring a bomb in with him—one that Light wouldn’t be able to activate on L quickly enough, if he got it away from him, because it was made out of new technologies that Light hadn’t had the benefit of seeing—that he could throw at Light if the man pulled a fast one on him, and then make a run for the door.

But as L thought that there was a thirty-seven percent chance that that would actually cause more harm for him than good, he’d decided to use his intellect here as he always did… and pray to any god that might exist that Light was off his game after these few years (even though that would make this incredibly boring).

L pushed the door open, and was met with the sight of a lot of orange, brown, and grays: dull, fall colors, that had lost any and all shine. Honestly, what had he even been expecting? Perhaps this had been a mistake…

“Well, if I haven’t earned a visit from the one and only Ryuzaki,” Light sang, looking up from the Bible he’d been reading, the moment L crossed over the threshold. And it didn’t escape L’s notice that Light didn’t call him “L”, which clearly meant that he wasn’t seeing this as a victory against him—as it clearly wasn’t that—but it also meant that Light was beyond bitter here. L wondered how that would make the rest of their interaction play out, as he crossed the room and sat in the table across from Light. “To what do I owe the pleasure? Are you here to finally tell me how good orange looks on me?” In some ways, he was perceptive as always, L supposed.

“While I would, perhaps, love to rub it in your face again, that I beat you—because yours surely was the best case that I have yet won,” and here L locked eyes with Light to remind him that he had won, and it would be foolish to think that he could try and turn the tables right now, “once of doing that was more than enough. Not everyone is as narcissistic as you are, Light. No… I’m here for… sympathetic reasons, oddly enough. And you don’t have to believe me about that, but it is the truth.” And it was clear Light must not have believed it for a second, because he’d scooched his chair back from L’s furiously, the moment the words had left his lips.

He’d moved the seat back, but hadn’t gone to stand up. And that was smart on his part—Light had always been so smart—because if he had, L had no doubt that, quite ironically, all sorts of police and guardsmen would be spilling in this very moment to be giving Light a lethal injection.

So, it seemed that even in prison—where so much was ripped away from one—of course, Yagami Light had found a way to hold onto his careful reactions. This was very good.

L could respect that.

“I don’t believe you!” Light hissed, as some of the old fire returned to the young man. And his pupils dilated, and there was certainly a maniac look to them, but no red.

And L was taken aback to find that he somehow missed the red.

“All you ever wanted was to solve the Kira case more than anything else! It was just another trophy to add to your case! The most impressive one of all, in fact! And you didn’t care who you had to throw under the bus to get there, or if you had to act like Kira himself to achieve your goals. So, why would you start caring now? Odds say that you don’t.”

L could have said something to that, like, “How funny it is, that you now start talking about odds, when I always thought that that was my forte,” he knew. But the truth was… he didn’t have the time for their game, even though it had once been his favorite one of all.

A new technology had just been unveiled that could recognize faces with seventy-five percent accuracy one-hundred thousand miles away. And L just knew that it was at once going to be nuclear warfare, if he didn’t get out there and explain why seventy-five percent still wasn’t accurate enough and would leave too many innocent civilians murdered in cold blood and destitute. So, if Light wasn’t going to be interested in the deal L had to offer him here, he really couldn’t care less.

As it was, he was missing tea time right now, anyway, and he quite liked tea time.

Examining his nails in a very bored manner, L continued on with, “Like I said, Yagami Light, you don’t have to believe me. But I have an idea… since we both once loved our game with each other so much, how about we play another one together right now? Give me one good reason as to why I should give you an opportunity, and shouldn’t leave you to rot her for eternity, like you so rightly deserve?”

Light seemed to withdraw into himself at that… and he looked so very small. And as he did, L found that maybe he was finally truly feeling the sympathy he’d told Light that he had from the onset here.

It must not have been easy, L imagined, dealing with the world’s greatest ice queen in the world, who lived behind such an impenetrable fortress.

Nor must it have been easy to try and look like you had something to gamble with, when everything had been taken away from you.

The gears were clearly turning in Yagami Light’s head now. And L wondered if when they were done spinning, if he would actually hear some sort of fantastical truth from the man, or another lie. Surely the latter, since if there was one thing Yagami Light didn’t do, it was tell the truth.

Finally, Light looked up at L with sorrowful eyes. And L imagined that everyone who was watching this scene unfold with him right now, was also waiting with bated breath to see what the serial killer would have to say.

“Did you know my father once tried to kill my cat, L?” Light asked.

And there was his name, “L”, again. So, Light clearly must have thought he could win this one. And L thought he must have been lying, since he was speaking of something so traumatic far too matter-of-factly right now.

But, then again… Light was calling Soichiro “father” as opposed to “dad” for once. And sometimes trauma victims did speak matter-of-factly to try and keep their emotions at bay.

Hmm… L tried not to give anything away here, but Light definitely have L wondering if he’d missed something important in the Kira investigation. And L didn’t know if that was good or not. He had asked for this—and perhaps had even wanted a battle he had chosen, as opposed to the one he now had to partake in for necessity—but was it really a good idea to have a battle of wills with Yagami Light again?

No matter what he thought, L knew the best thing was to try and play it all off, of course. “No, I was not aware of that, Kira. It didn’t come up in anything I researched about you in our time together. If this is true, I assume your family kept it under wraps to protect your father’s reputation? Do tell me about it.”

“Yep. That’s exactly it,” Light allowed, and he was looking at his forearms that rested on the table now, as if he was lost in thought. Lost in his memories, maybe more accurately. So, perhaps, there was some truth to all of this, after all.

L truly hadn’t come here expecting to feel anything for Yagami Light today, but he found he was doing exactly that, and he hated himself for it.

He would not again be the man on a rooftop, looking at who he believed to be his future killer with regret, as he heard bells ring in the distance. He would not.

“It was late one night… Dad was tired. And maybe a little drunk… This was the only cat we ever had, by the way. An orange furball that Sayu had begged that Mom and Father let us have. Eventually, they relented. Anything, for cute Sayu, of course. And I felt the same way. But… it had stomach problems, and hairballs all the time. Mom cleaned it up as best she could. I helped, too. But Father hated this about the thing.

“One night… I guess the stress of everything became too much for him, and he was chasing Aki, the cat, through the house, saying he was going to kill her, and was throwing coat-hangers at her… until Sayu and I intervened. But mainly it was me. I don’t know if it would have gone further than the coat-hangers, if Father’s two little kids hadn’t tried to stop him then, but…

“Anyway, Dad never had a psychotic break like that ever again, so we all just dropped it...”

The way Light had told the story… it mostly seemed true to L. And he hated that after once having said that there was never a time that Light told the truth, that he would now ven entertain that notion.

He also despised that he now thought it made some sense, then, that Yagami Light would go serial killer, since he’d had the trauma of seeing his father attack an animal… and seeing as how he couldn’t really get any help, as mental illness was so stigmatized in Japan.

But Light did not need to know any of these things from L, of course. All he needed to know was that he had passed the test.

And for Yagami Light, who had only ever wanted to get the best grades and be society’s greatest being—and to be a “god”—surely that would be enough.

“Light… what if we put your desire for justice—and death, to an extent—to practical use? What if you became an executor, instead of wasting away here?”

And the moment the words had left his mouth, L wished he could take them back. Because certainly Kira would object that he wasn’t a killer and never had been.

But instead, Light just dabbed at his eyes some—had he started crying?—and shook his head as if he were truly lost, “…If you think that’s the best thing for me to do… I guess I’ll do it. Clearly, I don’t know what’s right, and you’re wiser than I could ever be. So, when do I start?”

L meant to fill Light in then, that it wouldn’t be right away.

No. Some trust would have to be built first, before they let Kira anywhere near lethal ingredients or people he would put in the electric chair, of course.

But L couldn’t find the words.

He was, one, feeling too much guilt, somehow, by what had just transpired….

And two, finding himself almost aroused at the idea of Light wielding such power, but using it rightly this time.

“Watari will get you the information. He’ll be in touch.”

And L headed back through the large metal door, without another look towards Yagami Light.

He had once thought it held Light’s fate… but he was starting to realize that perhaps it held his own, too.

And if he was intelligent, he would never see the man again.

But had he ever truly been intelligent?

L had to ponder that now, when he knew without a shadow of a doubt… he would be seeing Kira again.

[staticscreenwriting]

The loneliest time of the year || Part two

Part 2 of 4

Summary: With a broken heart and the fear of having failed as a father, Frankie returns to his parents house for Christmas. What is supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year feels quite lonely. Though when an old friend shows up unexpectedly with her young son in tow, Frankie’s Christmas seems to gain a little more happiness. Can they help each other fight the ghosts of their pasts and overcome their fears ?

A/N: This is part of my 12 days of Christmas / Advent special. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated.

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

On the fourth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Four messed up pies

By the morning of December 9th a heavy blanket of snow rests upon the world like a tick coat of marshmallow fluff. 

A restlessness surges through Frankie as he turns from his left to his right to his back then repeats the process all over again. He kicks away the blankets then pulls them back. Sleep doesn’t come easy these days. In fact sleep hasn’t come easy in a while. It’s a price you have to pay for leading the life he leads, has led. For doing the job he did. You see things, bad things, and they stay with you. Not always but in the quiet moments they creep back into your mind and all you can do is stare and hope they fade again soon. Fill your brain with other things. Occupy your mind.

It’s moments like these that his fingers are twitching and his body is aching for release. For something to numb his mind. Help him forget. 

There aren’t a lot of things that Frankie is proud of. In fact he can count them on one hand. One of them is his ability to fly. He's a damn good pilot … most of the time. (He is when someone doesn’t force him to navigate an overloaded plane across the Andes). He’s proud of Rosie. Despite his flaws and shortcomings he managed to create something so utterly perfect, that’s something to be proud of. And the. There’s the little coin in the pocket of his jacket. The one he fumbles with whenever he’s anxious or stressed. It’s gold and smooth and it proudly displays a big number 10 in the middle of a triangle on the front of the coin.

10 months. That’s a proud achievement. 

It could be more. It should be more! He really tried but after coming home from Colombia, one man less than they went in, after his girlfriend broke up with him and took Rosie with her. After everything. He needed the psi to stop. Just for one goddamn minute. He felt immediate regret wash over him when he woke up the next morning. Called Pope. Entered a 12 step program.

10 months and he feels better. He likes himself more now. But in those 10 months the voices have gotten louder, the images clearer, his heart feels heavier. 

With sleep being so far out of reach, he kicks off the blanket and drags his body out of bed. The smell of coffee hits his nose as soon as he steps out of his room, it drifts from the kitchen all the way up the stairs. 

His parents are sitting by the kitchen counter, mom holding onto a big steaming mug of coffee while his dad is deeply invested in the morning. Paper, glasses perched low on his nose. This is home, it sends him straight back to his childhood. If only, he thinks, if only he could provide this sense of warmth and domesticity for his own child. 

A knock on the front door shakes him from his thoughts. As he swings it open, a sharp sting of cold winter air whips at him, nips at his nose, his ears and his bare feet.

“Frankie hey, oh sorry did I wake you?”

(Y/N) is once again bundled up in layers of cozy clothes, keeping her warm and sheltered from the harsh weather. She looks cute. Absolutely fucking adorable. But in that moment, he doesn’t really notice that. Doesn’t notice Leo standing behind her either. His entire attention rests on the steaming pie she holds in her hands. 

“You made a pie?”

“She made 4.” Leo speaks up, his voice dripping with irritation and annoyance. 

“Thanks for throwing me under the bus, dude!”

Frankie regards the exchange with a fond smile pulling at the corners of his lips. There’s something so distinctly familiar in the way she interacts with her son, so unapologetically her. The way she’s always been. But now grown up entirely. A mother. 

“Why did you make 4 pies?” He asks, eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Well I didn’t plan on making 4. The first one I mistook salt for sugar so you can imagine how it tasted. The second one I put way too much sugar in, might’ve been trying to compensate for my mistake with the first one but yeah that one did end up in the trash as well. The third … well I got pretty invested in an episode of unsolved mysteries and forgot it was in the oven so it turned out um — “

“Black. It was burned to a crisp.” Leo chimes up again, this time more amused than annoyed by his mother’s baking escapades.

“Yeah. It burned. But number 4 is looking pretty good.”

She looks up at Frankie with a smile so radiant it rivals the sun reflecting on the snowy ground. Pride shines in her eyes as she holds the pie towards him.

“Did you make me a pie?”

“Not exactly. It’s mostly for your folks. They agreed to watch this one while I got shopping for his Christmas presents.” (Y/N) explains, her tumb motioning towards the little boy over her shoulder. “This is a thank you to them for being literal angels. “

“Oh man you wouldn’t be saying that if you had to live with them growing up. I can’t tell you how many times dad unplugged my console while I was in the middle of a game.”

It’s a joke, of course it is. He really lucked out in the parents department and he’s not too proud or too shy to admit it. Maybe, he thinks, the good parent gene might’ve skipped a generation with him. His ex will surely agree with that statement. 

“Hey uh — you mind having some company while shopping ?”

“You wanna go shopping for toys?”

“I need to get some presents for my daughter.”

“Oh that’s right, you have a kid too. “

He doesn’t blame her for not remembering. He doesn’t strike people as the father type. And really, he hasn’t seen his little one in quite some time.doesn’t see her during the entire Christmas time. Is he really much of a father anyway?

“Sure yeah! I’d love some company.”

Maybe, Frankie thinks, this will help him drown out the voice. Those that tell him bad thoughts, whisper mean things. Maybe it will help him filter out the images. The blood. The suffering.

Frankie was never overly fond of the extreme commercialization of what should be a peaceful family holiday. But maybe this year he is,a little bit at least. Because those bright colors, the loud noises, the crowds, the ads assaulting you from every corner, that all will help drown out the dark. At least for a moment. 

“Alright lemme just get changed real quick.”

On the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Five days a week

“What the fuck is this?”

“It’s uh … it’s a … a game?”

“A game where you have to catch a piece of … poop.”

A wave of laughter tumbles from (Y/N)’s lips as Frankie holds up the brightly colored box, proudly displaying a drawing of a smiling turd. 

“It’s so dumb. And that says a lot coming from me, I can appreciate a good fart joke. But this is …. this is just dumb. “

“ It's what the kids these days want. I guess …”

“Would you buy this for Leo?”

“Absolutely not,” (Y/N) replies before taking the box from his hand and placing it back on the shelf between several more games of a similar kind. “But he wouldn’t like it anyway. Leo likes books and animals and fantasy movies. He’s so smart sometimes I wonder where he got it from.”

“You kidding me?” Frankie exclaims, “you’re so smart and if I remember correctly, you always carried around books when you were younger.”

(Y/N) just shrugs at his words though Frankie can’t make out a faint blush of red dusting her cheeks. “Leo is such an easy kid, always has been. Sometimes I wonder if that’s really the way he is or if he just tries to be that way because of me. Because he knows that I have to do all the parenting by myself and he feels he’s responsible for helping me along.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re doing good with him. Least you know what to get him for Christmas, what he cares about, what he’s interested in.”

His heart feels so heavy. His words seem to weigh down on his tongue like a stack of bricks. To admit your own failures to yourself is one thing, to admit them to someone else is quite another story.

“What do you mean ?”

“I — I have no idea what to get for Rosie. I don’t even know when I’ll see her next. She stays with her mom 5 days a week. I only get her on the weekends and even then her mom often finds a reason not to let her stay. Special occasions? I don’t get to spend those with her. Bet she doesn’t even recognize me anymore next time. She’s just a baby …”

This can’t be happening. He’s not going to start crying in the middle of a Toys R Us like a hyperactive toddler on a temper tantrum. Not in front of a beautiful girl who has been nothing but kind to him. This can’t be happening.

(Y/N)’s hand settles on his arm with a gentle touch. Almost as if she’s afraid he’ll break any minute now. And honestly, he might.

“Tell me about Rosie. I know she means the world to you and that’s all that matters Frankie. You’re trying. You’re trying so hard and I’m sure there’s lots about her that you know that no one else does. She’s your baby too. So tell me about her and we’ll figure out what to get her.”

And so they sit down on a swing set, one that’s definitely not meant for adults to sit on and have deep discussions, and Frankie starts talking. Once he starts it’s like a cork has been popped. It pours out of him, all of his pride and admiration and love for Rosie. All that has been brewing for so long now bubbles over. 

“... and she, she loves cuddling onto my chest and just listens to me. She doesn’t understand a word but she looks at me with her big beautiful eyes and it feels like I’m telling her all the biggest secrets of the universe the way she looks at me. Sometimes I sing and she — she falls asleep immediately.”

“That’s adorable.”

“Nah I think it's because my rendition of Eric Clapton is just real bad and boring.”

Their laughter is quiet, almost as if they are afraid of breaking the spell of this moment. Sometimes you find yourself at your most vulnerable during the big moments of your life and sometimes you do in the middle of a Toys R Us, sitting on a swingest that just barely holds your weight while a plastic giraffe looks over your shoulder and Kacey Musgrave’s rendition of “I’ll be home for Christmas” plays over the same overhead speakers that have been installed there in 1983.

“I just don’t want to disappoint her.”

 He’s already disappointing himself and that hurts bad enough.

“Frankie, let me be honest with you. She’s a baby, she’s not gonna care what you get for her. This is more about you than her. Whatever you get she’s gonna like it. Babies are easy to please, gets harder the older they get. We’ll find something cute for her but um … I think you should call her.”

“She’s a baby, she doesn’t have a phone yet.”

“ Really? I had Leo on a newborn data plan the second he popped out.”

Frankie raises his eyebrow in confusion.

“I was joking you dingus. Of course you’re gonna call her mom. There’s this thing, I don’t know if you’ve heard about it, it’s called FaceTime. You can actually see ther person on the other side. “ 

“ Very funny. I know what facetime is … “ 

“ Then call them. You said it yourself, the little one doesn’t understand a word of what you’re saying but that doesn’t matter. You’re there. You’re showing interest and taking initiative. It shows you care. And I think seeing her might be good for you too, even if it’s not in person.” 

“ You know, that sounds like a pretty good plan. “ 

“ Yeah? “ she asks him, a hopeful glimmer in her eyes, in her voice, in her entire being.

“ Yeah. “ 

“ Alright! Now let’s go find some presents for the little princess. May I suggest a cellphone? “ 

This time her laughter isn’t quite. It’s loud and radiant and the way her own joke amuses herself, is so goddamn endearing to Frankie. 

“ Ah shut up. “ he replies though his voice too is dipped in amusement as he throws his arm around her shoulders and they walk down the shiny linoleum floor, past dolls and teddy bears and Star Wars action figures.

And it feels right. Like the fit together perfectly. Like puzzle pieces slotting into place. 

And that feeling is damn scary.

On the sixth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Six-hour flights.

The floor of (Y/N)’s living room is covered in wrapping paper. Reds and greens and silvers and golds hide what once was a nice dark cherry wood floor. There are bows and ribbons and gift tags in all shapes and sizes and colors. 

“ Looks like Santa’s workshop in here, “ Frankie exclaims as he drops down on the floor next to her. All the presents they’ve purchased, neatly lined up in front of them, ready to be wrapped. Though to be fair, Frankie is quite sure he’s not gonna do a lot of wrapping himself. Sometimes you gotta admit defeat. And he ain’t too proud to admit that he is a horrible, horrible wrapper. 

“ Yeah, I know I’m making a big fuss over things like this. Wrapping and the tree and stuff like that. I just — I don’t know it just makes me happy when I see that my actions put a smile on the faces of the people I love. “ 

“ Oh I wasn't judging. It’s sweet. “ 

For a while they stay in comfortable silence. Just them and the radio playing old Christmas songs. (Y/N)’s hands do quick work on the presents, Santa’s elves would be jealous. 

It’s the first time in a long time, that silence doesn’t make him feel uncomfortable. That it doesn’t open up the gates for the voices to grow louder and the bad images to consume his head. No, this silence feels comfortable. It’s soft and warm. It’s tinted in golds and reds. 

Maybe, he thinks, maybe seeking the company of someone who exudes joy and warmth does him good. Someone who knows him but not the bad. Never the bad. The faults, yes, the fears even, but not the blood that stains his hands or the vices he so desperately tries to fight.

“ What was the best Christmas present you ever got? “ (Y/N) speaks up as she glides a pair of scissors along the ribbon turning it into shiny curls. 

“ Millennium Falcon playset.” 

“ You and a million other little boys. “ 

“True. What can I say, I was easily pleased. What was yours ?”

(Y/N) thinks for a moment before a wistful smile settles on her face. 

“My bubblegum pink roller skates.”

“Oh, I remember those!”

And he did. Squeaky pink roller skates with 4 pastel blue wheels and glittery silver laces.

“I remember the following summer all you did was skate up and down the street.  “

“Yeeeah but that wasn’t entirely because of the skates.”

Frankie combs his hair from his face, he really needs to get it cut, and looks at her in confusion. “Huh?”

Another chuckle falls from (Y/N) ‘s lips. “I can’t believe you didn’t notice.”

“ Notice what?”

“That I had the biggest crush on you.”

Frankie is grateful for the fact that he’s not taking a sip of his drink right then, it surely would’ve ended in a spit-take. He was a nerdy kid, a nerdy teenager too. Kinda shy, a little lost. He wasn’t usually the boy that girls fancied.

“Me? You had a crush on me? “

It doesn’t make sense, not really. She was the one that was fascinating and exciting. Though he didn’t think of her that way when they were kids, he knew she was beautiful even back then. He hadn’t been interested in her romantically because she was a few years younger but that didn’t meanie didn’t realize the magic she held.

“Yes, you. You were cool, Frankie. You were older and you knew stuff about cars and planes and you could name every Star Wars spaceship and you had a skateboard. “

“I was a horrible skater.”

“Sure but it wasn’t so much about the skating as it was about the aesthetic. You were cool and you still are cool”

Frankie shrugs his shoulder nonchalantly. She thought he was cool, still does. No one ever thought he was cool. He isn’t a smooth talker like Pope and even he himself can admit that look wise he isn’t even playing in the same league as Will and Benny. But if (Y/N) thinks he’s cool that must mean something. Right ?

“You were the one traveling all over the world with your dad and you thought I was cool?”

She sets down the scissors, let’s her hands rest on her lap. There’s a sense of nervousness exuding from her now. Like the words she wants to speak are resting on the tip of her tongue and yet they are so difficult to speak.

“Maybe that was part of it too. I never had a real home. Nothing stable at least. Except for my grandparents’ house. This was home and you were, you are, forever entwined with my idea of home. Sometimes I missed this place so much that I’d sit in my room and my little brain would think of all the fun adventures we could go on if only I was old enough to hop on a 6 hour flight by myself. I’d ask grandma about you every time I called and she always told me what trouble you got into.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yeah and that only made you more exciting in my eyes. Then she’d offer to let me speak to you but I was too chicken shit to do it. Thought you might look right through my facade and realize how into you I was.”

“I was so oblivious, I can assure you I wouldn’t have noticed.”

“Well … it’s too late now.”

“I guess so. Just — next time you fall in love with me let me know, alright.”

Her laugh rings through the room like bells, like songs, like whispers of a childhood magic long forgotten.

“That only sounds fair. It’s a deal.”

“Good, now …. would you mind wrapping my gifts for Rosie?”

“Nope, but in return would you come see Leo’s play with me next week? My dad can’t come and I think Leo would like to have some more people there that support him. And he seems to think you’re cool so …”

“Huh guess if you both think so it must be true.”

“Don’t let it get to your head.”

“Of course I’ll come. “

She smiles and it sends a weird flicker through him. Like fire, like electricity. 

“ Now let me teach you how to curl the ribbon properly.”

[angst-fairygodmother]

Idiot (Affectionate) ~ A Bad Samaritan Fic

CHAPTER ONE: FIRST DAY

When your cousin Sean and his friend start up a valet business at Nino’s, where you work as a waitress, you don’t expect it to lead to any of what happens next.

Pairing: Derek Sandoval x Reader Word Count: 1893 Rating: T - mild language, reference to harassment

Masterlist

“So, how does it feel, your first big boy job?” you teased, elbowing your cousin in the ribs. 

“Oh haha,” Sean drawled, swatting at you. “You’re hilarious.”

“And adorable.” You dodged out his reach, and the two of you proceeded to chase each other around the podium for several minutes.

“I’m serious though, Sean. Suggesting Nino start doing valet parking, organizing the whole thing. I think it’s great. Better than car washes and dog walking. It shows initiative, and it’ll get Don off your back a bit.”

“How’d you know that was one of the goals?”

“Because I know you. Really, my only disappointment is that you brought him along.” You gestured over your shoulder to Derek who was just walking up. 

“Hey, come on now!” he cried.

“Derek’s my best mate, you know that Y/N,” Sean sighed. “And I think you two would get along if you gave him a chance.”

“Yeah, but he’s so...him,” you sighed, making a face of mock disgust. 

“Yo, hold up, what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Are you sure you want me to answer that question?” You cocked an eyebrow at him, whether he took it as a warning or challenge was up to him.

“Yeah. If you got a problem with me, I wanna know what it is.” 

“I don’t have a problem with you, per se. It’s just that...you’re arrogant, and loud. Not even your voice, just, the way you are. You act like you’re hot shit, but you’re not half as clever as you think.”

He scoffed in disbelief and even though you knew you should leave it there, something made you want to keep pushing, almost to see what happened if you got him riled enough. 

“If you were, you wouldn’t be working nothing but a string of dead-end jobs.” You shrugged. “Frankly, I think both of you are wasting considerable talent being valets instead of looking at the bigger picture.”

“Wait, hang on!” Sean protested. “A minute ago you were praising my initiative.”

“Better to start your own idea than working someone else’s, sure, but I was mostly trying to be nice.” You flashed an apologetic grimace, nose wrinkling. “You’re my favorite cousin and I love you?” you continued in a rush, hoping to cover up your admission of insincerity with charm.

Sean rolled his eyes fondly at you.

“Well if you’re so smart, how come you ain’t doin any better? You’re just like us, Miss Waitress,” Derek said mockingly.

“Except I’m doing this because textbooks cost like four hundred bucks a piece and I don’t have an extra kidney to sell. Unless you’re going to give me yours?” You gave him another challenging look before sighing. “As soon as I have that degree in my hand, I am outta here.”

“Some of us got families to take care of, can’t just run away when we get bored.”

“I…” you took a deep breath, deflating. “I didn’t mean it like that. All I was trying to say is I know Sean’s got talent and someone else is bound to notice eventually, and there’s probably a brain in that head of yours somewhere. I find it hard to believe that you want to do this for life. Family first sure, I get it, but don’t you want...don’t you deserve more?”

Derek and Sean both frowned, unsure of how to answer you. Of course neither of them wanted to be valets or car washers or grocery baggers forever. But they had bills to pay, food and rent and electricity to afford. If they didn’t keep up with here and now, all the bigger picture thinking and dreaming of the future in the world wasn’t going to help. 

Something inside the restaurant caught your eye and you shook your head.

“I should probably get in there. Nino’s got Val doing place settings, and we probably don’t want to be auctioning off butter knives.” You shoved your hands in the pockets of your black slacks and flashed them both a smile. “Good luck tonight.”

Derek made no secret of staring at your ass as you walked away, a fact that Sean definitely noticed. 

“Come on, seriously?” he asked his friend, making a gesture of both annoyance and defeat.

“What dawg? Your cousin’s kind of a bitch sometimes, but she’s hot as hell. I’m just appreciating.”

~

“Nino,” one of the chefs asked a few days later. “How come you don’t feed those two boys parking cars? You feed everyone else. They must be starved out there all night.”

Nino looked thoughtful, as if it hadn’t occurred to him before. You frowned, loading your tray with table seven’s appetizers. 

“Well, they don’t really work for Nino like the rest of us, do they? They’re independent contractors,” you pointed out.

“Cold, Y/N,” the busboy, John, teased. “Throwing your cousin under the bus.”

You shrugged, weaving your way out of the kitchen. “If he wants food he should learn to put it in his contract.”

About an hour later, Nino was flagging you over, for the third time that night.

“Y/N, Y/N,” he said, rushed. “No one is eating the lasagna.”

“I can try to push more of it, talk it up or something?” you offered, not sure why he was telling you.

“No, no. It’s fine. I just don’t want to see it go to waste.” He smiled like an idea was suddenly dawning on him. “Why don’t you take some to the boys out front. David is right, they must be hungry.”

You rolled your eyes with a laugh. You should have suspected as soon as it was brought up that Nino would cave. Nodding, you went back to the kitchen to relay the order and wait.

With the two plates, rolled silverware tucked in your apron pocket, you made easy work of weaving through the restaurant and elbowing open the doors, only to grimace uncomfortably when you realized it was just Derek at their podium.

“Hey,” you said awkwardly, making him jump in surprise. “Uh...Nino thought you might be hungry and no one was eating the lasagna so he sent me out with some for you and Sean...where is Sean?”

“He’s just parking somebody, he’ll be back in a minute. Nino’s givin' us free food?” you tried to suppress a smile at the excitement in his voice. 

“No, I just brought these out to taunt you,” you joked, rolling your eyes as you handed him one of the plates and dug into your pocket for his fork. 

You were silent for a minute, shifting awkwardly, from foot to foot, still holding Sean’s plate and not sure what to do with it.

“About what I said the other night,” you said finally, chewing on your lip. 

Derek stopped, fork halfway to his mouth and looked at you.

“I may have been...unreasonably harsh…” you said hesitantly. “And I…”

The words died on your throat as you found yourself wondering if you were actually sorry. You felt guilty, but you still meant what you said. Sean and Derek were both smart people, and you thought they could do better. You had been working at Nino’s since you were nineteen, and had seen so many people insist that a job was just temporary, only to still be there almost a decade later. You didn’t want to see that happen to either of them. 

You were trying to remind yourself that it wasn’t about you, when Derek cut through your thoughts.

“Don’t sweat it, I’ve already forgotten,” he said. “It’s all good bro.”

“Oh.” He seemed so genuine in his reassurance and you weren’t sure what to do with that. Instead you changed the subject. “Where is Sean? Shouldn’t he be able to park a car quickly if he’s going to be a valet?”

“I can just hold onto his food, if you gotta get back in there.”

“Please,” you shook your head. “I’m in no rush to return to Awkward First Date, Going to Ask for a Divorce Any Second, or Family With the Twins from The Shining.” 

“How come you only got three tables when the place is packed? Don’t you handle five or six like a breeze?”

 “I got moved off two, one of them was my fault. So instead I get anyone that wants to eat at the bar. And my section has the last empty table. How’d you know how many tables I usually have?”

“Uh...I overheard some people talking when I went for a smoke break.” His eyes shifted to the side, avoiding your curious look.

“Riight.” You nodded exaggeratedly. There was no way in hell you believed that, unless they’d been gossiping about you losing tables, but he didn’t seem to know about that. 

“Anyway, why’d they get pulled?”

“The one that was my fault or the one that wasn’t?”

“Both,” he sighed, making a somewhat impatient gesture. “Sean is out parking the first car that’s showed up in an hour. Talkin’ to you’s at least something to do.”

“Glad to know I rank above staring at the sidewalk or counting the windows across the street.” You rolled your eyes.

“That’s not what I meant.” 

You leaned back, resting your elbows against the edge of the podium, bringing your faces surprisingly close together. He shoveled a bite of food into his mouth to distract himself from that fact, and the things he was thinking he could do.

“Couple of suit-and-ties celebrating some sort of business deal. One of them asked the new kid if she was on the menu, a few other lewd comments. They made her really uncomfortable, so Nino switched us around, figuring I could handle it.” You shrugged. “Same guy got a little...grabby for things that aren’t his. Nino spotted it and decided to take over the table himself. That’s one down.”

Derek frowned. He’d known plenty of people that worked in restaurants. Managers, and owners especially, didn’t typically move someone off a table for a little handsiness. But maybe Nino was one of the rare ones that went above and beyond for his staff. And if not and you didn’t want to tell him the whole thing, who was he to judge?

“The other was a complaint that I was ‘belligerent.’”

“But you’re cuddlier than a kitten, how could they ever think that?” he laughed. 

You stuck your tongue out at him childishly, laughing along. 

“All I did was correct them on my name,” you protested. “...every time they called me Sweetcheeks.”

For some reason, this only made Derek laugh harder, nearly choking on a mouthful of pasta. 

“Definitely not hostile.”

“Whatever, you dick.” You shoved him playfully and suddenly the two of you froze.

This was a shift in dynamic, a tipping point. Would he let you get away with it and tilt the scale from acquaintance to friendship? Or would he take offense? 

Sean found you in that waiting tension, shattering it with his greeting as he finally returned from parking the car. You awkwardly explained the meal delivery and sighed that you had to get back to work, someone would come get the dishes in a bit. 

Derek locked eyes with you as you turned to go. You flashed a quick smile back. 

“Did I miss something?” you heard Sean ask, lilt exaggerated by his confusion.

[ohkiyo]

characters: shiratorizawa team and reader.

warnings: a bit of cursing.

word count: 3.6k

a/n: shoutout to cloud anon for giving me such marvelous ideas, each one you sent were all so funny it just made my day even better. I do hope you’ll like this one, I got a bit excited to post this, so please don’t mind the mistakes hahaha nor any of the grammatical errors. :D

music I listened to while writing this:

ようかい体操第一  | Dream5

morning smile | nom tunes

your happiness is my happiness | nom tunes

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

    shiratorizawa navigation || stth navigation

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

“What’s the answer on number 4?” Yamagata scratched his head with his pencil, staring at his exercise paper on the table, the numbers not making any sense to him anymore. He could feel his fingers starting to hurt from the amount of times he had been pressing the buttons of his calculator, but he could still not find the answer he was looking for, the calculator’s screen displaying syntax error.

“It’s 126.76” Reon replied, not looking up from his own paper as he concentrates on his own set of problems. It had been easy, the first few questions were doable, nothing out of the ordinary, however, when he reached numbers 10 and above he swore the teacher was high when he made that exercise. 

I mean, what’s the point of making a multiple choice question when the answer is not even in the choices.

“What? I thought it was 116” now Semi was starting to get even more frustrated, he was sure his answer was correct, he even searched up a tutorial on YouTube on how to solve that particular equation. 

“You need to add the 10, not subtract it” Shirabu corrected, as Semi erased his current answer and started replacing it with the right one. Mumbling to himself how the fuck is calculus useful in the real world, you don’t see people adding a and b to buy a sack of rice, nor finding x to purchase fruits in the market. 

Math is ridiculous; he hopes that whoever invented this shit suffers in hell.

“Let’s rest for now” Ushijima suggested, closing his notebook as he rested his pencil on top of it. Aware of just how everyone was getting stressed. 

“Where did Satori go?” Semi looks around the room, noticing that the redhead had disappeared. “Taichi and Tsutomu too”

“They went out to go get food” 

“They did?”

Yamagata nodded his head, lazily going through the books stacked on top of Tendou’s desk, most of them were manga that he had read and re-read, while the others were borrowed books from the library that he had never bothered to return.

There was a knock on the door, as Semi who was the closest, stood and opened it to reveal the people they have been looking for a while ago.

“We’re back!” Tendou announced cheerily, a tupperware in his hands as he entered the room, followed by Kawanishi, Goshiki and someone unfamiliar.

“Who’s that?” Shirabu pointed, raising a questioning brow at the person’s choice of clothing. An oversized sweater, shorts that reach below their knees and a swan patterned socks.

“What do you mean? That’s (Y/n)” you lift your hand up in a wave, the sweater’s long sleeve covering your own arm. A wide smile on your face, as you sat down on the floor along with them, Semi closing the door and locking it.

“What?”

No words left their mouth as they stared at you, you looked pretty convincing as a boy, the wig you wore accentuated your face just right. However, did Tendou really have you wear a wig that was an exact replica of Goshiki’s signature bowl-cut? Of all the millions of hairstyles he could choose from, really?

“Did you just smuggle her in?” Reon asks in disbelief. “How did you do it?”

“(Y/n)’s so small nobody noticed her” you swat Kawanishi with your sweater sleeve as he snickered, ruffling your hair before opening the bag you brought with you. Taking out different containers full of food, plates, chopsticks and other eating utensils.

“Where’d you get all these from? Did you order take-out?” Semi took a bite of the chicken strip, humming in satisfaction at the delicious taste, before taking another piece.

“(Y/n) was stress cooking again” Goshiki answered as he helped Ushijima clear the table, with you carefully placing the foods in the middle and Shirabu spreading the utensils on the table.

“Are you having problems with your academics again (Y/n)?” Ushijima inquired, pouring himself a glass of water as everyone situated themselves around the table, offering their thanks and serving themselves with the food you cooked. 

“I have an oral recitation tomorrow and I’m worried I’ll mess it up” you replied, biting on your chopstick. “The subject teacher isn’t very nice either, I’m scared of her”

“Who’s the teacher?”

“Tachibana-sensei”

Hearing the familiar name, both third years and second years involuntarily shuddered. Memories of their days as her students resurface, the struggle they experienced trying to hold onto the thin thread keeping their grades up were a bit traumatic.

Tachibana-sensei was the kind of teacher that students hate the most, she enjoys giving surprises, surprise quiz, surprise recitation, heck, even her exams are a surprise. It’s rare for her to even give her students the time to fully study their material, and for those who were under her knows that when she does, she’ll be firing questions one after the other, until her students are unable to give her answers leaving her disappointed.

“May the gods be in your favor (Y/n)” Tendou clapped a hand on your shoulder as he gave you a sympathetic smile. His eyes silently telling you ‘You’re screwed’

Goshiki noticed the look of terror flashed on your face, your hand shaking out of pure nervousness as you almost spilled the food on your plate. Does Tachibana-sensei really have that kind of reputation? He never had her as his subject teacher in any of his classes, well for now at least, but he sure is thankful, he didn’t need that kind of problem in his first year of high school.

“Don’t scare her” Semi hits Tendou with a notebook, scolding him for scaring you as you now sat there frozen, your mind going through the possible outcomes that might happen tomorrow. 

“You’ll be fine, don’t worry about it. You’re smart” Shirabu’s words of encouragement did help you relax a little, but the fear still lingered in your mind. You felt something prodding at your lips, you focused your eyes in front of you to see Kawanishi holding up a piece of chicken near your mouth.

“Eat first, I can help you with it later” He says in between mouthfuls as you open your mouth, accepting the food. Nodding at his offer.

You will worry about your demon of a teacher later, for now, you’re going to enjoy your food.

“By the way Satori, I saw this earlier” Yamagata pulled out a scrapbook from under the stacks of manga on the desk. The front cover is littered with stickers, and doodles, a very Tendou-esque kind of design.

"Oh that's where I’ve compiled the photos I took, I’ve just started so it’s not done yet" Tendou answered, watching as Yamagata opened the scrapbook, and going through the pictures. "Photography's my newfound hobby now"

"That photography workshop was only once, I didn't know you actually took it seriously"

"It’s a form of art Eita-kun" the red head held up a finger, going on and on about how it captures all the once in a lifetime moments we experience, and how pictures hold the memories they make together.

Tendou started getting sappy with his explanation, Semi had to shove an onigiri in his mouth to stop him from talking.

"Do you have a soft copy of these pictures Tendou?" Ushijima questioned, reading through the captions Tendou pasted around each photo. "I need a copy"

"I'll send it to you later Wakatoshi-kun" 

"You have another one?" Shirabu held another scrapbook in his hand. "How many do you have?"

"I have three" Shirabu flipped through the pages of the one he's holding, noticing that most of the pictures were of the second years in the club, but majority of them were of him and Kawanishi. 

"Where's the other one?" 

Tendou patted around in his bed for a moment, feeling for the familiar hard bound of the scrapbook before he finally found it resting under his backpack.

"These are pictures of the first years" You became interested, peeking over Semi's shoulder as he flipped through the pages. "Oh I remember this one." 

It was a picture of both you and Goshiki asleep inside the bus, your head resting on his shoulder and his head resting over your own. A jacket covering your bodies acting as a blanket. Below there was a text saying, The babies first away game.

"Tendou-san, we're not babies anymore." Goshiki reasoned but Tendou refused to agree to the first year.

"Oh hush, in my eyes you two are still babies." to emphasize his point, Tendou squished both your and Goshiki's cheek. Grinning at the pout now resting on your face. "See? Just adorable!"

"You're playing favorites, you know" Reon watches as Tendou continues to coddle the two youngest members in their group. The both of you trying to get away from Tendou refuse to let go.

Semi flipped to another page, this time there was a picture of you and him. Both of you standing near the grill as he teaches you how to properly cook meat, while you eagerly wait by the sides, all the while watching the meat being grilled on top of the fire. Eyes almost sparkling at how mouthwatering it is. At the bottom another caption was written, baby’s first barbecue.

"I think I found my new favorite" Semi looked up from the photobook he's holding, to Tendou still gushing over Goshiki and (Y/n). "Satori, send me a soft copy of this one"

"Roger!"

Finally, after almost thirty minutes both you and Goshiki were finally able to push the red head away as you all clean up the dirty dishes, throwing away the plastics and food crumbs into the trash can. Then resuming to their study session.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

The next day, morning practice was starting a bit later than usual so the gym was still half empty, the only occupants were the regulars who decided to come early and do their own pre-practice warm ups. Semi was doing his usual jump serves with Yamagata receiving the balls to practice more on his digs. While on the other net, Shirabu was practicing with Goshiki after some begging from the first-year’s side.

You watch as Semi spins a ball on his hands, licking his lips, something he does whenever he’s trying to pinpoint where he wants the ball to land before throwing it in the air and jumping. Cringing at the sound of his palm colliding with the ball and watching as Yamagata runs to receive it.

“That was by the line!” your eyes went wide in awe, running to retrieve the ball and jogging back to Semi’s side of the net. As Yamagata let out a sigh wiping his sweat with his shirt.

“That’s the kind of serve that will annoy you the most”

Semi bounce the ball a few times, before pausing and turning to you. “Do you want to try (Y/n)?”

You nodded your head, eager to learn from one of the best servers in your team. You always find them very cool whenever they do those awesome spikes and jump serves. To you, they look like they’re flying whenever they jump so high, you were feeling a bit envious about it.

Standing beside Semi, he explained to you how to angle your hand properly and the timing of when to hit the ball.

“What’s your dominant hand?” 

You lift up your left hand and said “This one”

“Oh? You’re a lefty [1] too?” the both of you turn to look at the ace to see that he had started listening as well “Just like Wakatoshi”

“Try doing a normal serve for now” standing by the service line, you readied your position, as Yamagata took a receiving stance at the other side of the net.

“Give it all you’ve got (Y/n)-chan!”

You nodded your head, throwing the ball, watching it before hitting it with your hand as hard as you can, which was a lot for a newbie. Yamagata dove to get the ball, the object bouncing off his arm and shooting off to the side.

“One point for (Y/n)!” you heard Tendou’s voice from the other side of the gym as Semi applauds your good work. You started feeling giddy, hitting that ball was so satisfying you feel like the stress you were currently having this morning was starting to ease just a little bit.

“Do it again (Y/n)-chan!” Goshiki’s voice reached your ears as he abandoned Shirabu, who let out a sigh of relief, finally able to take the rest he had been wanting.

“How about a jump serve?” Ushijima suggested, as he too walked to your group, now interested in your new found talent.

Semi twirled the ball in his hand, biting the inside of his cheek. “That one’s a bit tricky Wakatoshi”

“She can do it” Ushijima turns to look at you as Goshiki keeps on slapping your back, getting excited for some reason, and honestly, you were excited as well. Ushijima rarely shows this kind of interest, so for someone who only learned the basics of volleyball through reading the manual and watching it, it was a shock for you.

“Can I?” you ask, your eyes sparkling “It never hurts to try”

Now, with you looking at him like that, how could Semi say no? you just look so cute he really has to stop himself from pinching those cheeks of yours.

“Alright, but I think Wakatoshi can teach you better” Semi threw the ball to Ushijima who nodded his head, wordlessly taking his position at the serving line. You watch how he handles the ball, you don’t even know if there’s a difference with righties serving compared to the lefties, but you paid attention anyways. Watching him run, jump and hit the ball as hard as he can.

Semi just sighed, Ushijima didn’t even say anything, he just did what he normally did. As if expecting you to learn something from it. But then again, Ushijima did the same thing to Goshiki once when the first-year asked how to improve his line shots, he can’t judge too soon.

Bouncing the ball a few times, you threw it in the air watching as you slowly run before jumping and serving it to the other side, the ball hitting the back line.

“Two points!” Everyone cheered for you, the others sporting surprise looks on their face. Jump serves were very hard to do, most would normally be hitting the net or the ball going out of bounce. But you, just one look at a live sample and voila, success.

“Do it again, (Y/n)-chan! This time I’ll make sure to receive it!” you grin at Yamagata’s challenge, doing the same thing you did the first time. You hit the ball with the hardest one you could muster. Watching as it spins fast, going past Yamagata and narrowly hitting Coach Saito in the face.

The coach blinks, frozen on his spot as he silently thanks whatever deities that decided to grace him with their blessings. Everyone was quiet, shocked at what just happened. He turned his head, his eyes scanning whoever was the culprit of his near death experience only to see you standing at the service line.

“I-I think that’s enough for now” he cleared his throat, tucking the clipboard he’s holding under his arms “Let’s prepare for practice”

You all nodded your head, gathering the stray balls and tossing them into the basket, mopping up the sweat that dropped on the floor as the rest of the members started piling into the gym.

Practice went by pretty fast, Coach Washijou had to cut it short because exam week was approaching and according to the school rule book, extracurricular activities must be shortened in order to give the students more time to study. 

They were currently having their post practice snacks, filling their hungry stomach with some delicious food as they rest their body. Practice may have been short but it doesn’t mean Coach Washijou made it easy, in fact, he made it even harder.

You were sitting cross legged on the floor, finishing up the notes you were writing earlier, sipping on a juice box you brought with you while your other hand moved across the white pages of your notebook. 

Seeing as your pen was running out of ink, you placed your juice box on the floor then reaching over for your bag to retrieve another one. Just as you were about to take another sip of your drink, it slipped from your grasp, landing on your lap, its contents spilling over your notes.

“Motherfucker” you were too focused cleaning yourself up that you didn’t hear Semi’s dramatic gasp, the curse that left your lips was foreign to his ears as he had never heard you say such a vulgar word before.

“Uh-oh”

Those who were closest to the door quietly slipped out, they knew what was coming next, and they’re not going to be a part of it. The coaches watched from the sidelines as Semi started lecturing them about their choices of words, reminding them that no swear words allowed in the presence of the first years.

Washijou-sensei shot his assistant a look, eyebrows raised “It was you, wasn’t it?”

Coach Saito sheepishly scratches his cheek, as he remembers how the swear word left his lips yesterday when he hit his hip at the side of the table. Not realizing that you were standing outside, ready to give to him the report he requested. 

He didn’t even know that such a thing was forbidden within the club, he quickly reminded himself to watch his language the next time the first years were around, he doesn’t want Semi going all mama mode again.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

Lunch was spent eating together in the cafeteria, sitting at their usual table as they enjoyed the break from their tiring classes. Although the dining area was pretty rowdy, it did serve as a distraction from whatever their teachers prepared for their afternoon sessions.

“Today’s korokke has shrimp in it” Tendou took another bite of the fried dish, the food still hot and fresh. “Yummy”

“But…” Kawanishi started, his eyes shifting over to you as you munch on your own piece of korokke “(Y/n)’s allergic to shrimp”

The table went quiet as they all looked at you, they didn’t know that, why didn’t you tell them?

“Oh my god, her allergy is reacting” Semi stood up from his seat as red dots started to appear on your face, you gave the remaining korokke to Goshiki as you scratch your arm, your whole body feeling itchy.

“Let’s take her to the infirmary”

They quickly led you to the nurse’s office, the red dots that were just around your mouth had now spread all over your face. Looking as if you had just contacted chicken pox.

Thankfully, the nurse was still in her office when they arrived so you were immediately given some medicine to stop your allergy from becoming worse.

“You’ll have to go back to your room and take a rest for the rest of the day, then come back tomorrow again so I could give you another check-up. Alright?”

She handed you the excuse note for you to give to your teachers the next day as you stood up from your seat, thanking the nurse then exiting the room to see that the boys had waited for you outside.

“So, what did she say?”

“I’m excused from my classes this afternoon” you showed them the paper the nurse gave you. Shirabu reading through what she wrote, Kawanishi reading the paper’s contents from over his shoulder.

“I need one too”

“Why? are you sick?”

“No, I just want to skip class today”

Semi sighs at what the middle blocker just said, if anything, Kawanishi was definitely the laziest among them all. Always looking for ways to avoid any activities he finds energy consuming, Semi was quite surprised Kawanishi had not tried sending their coach a fake medical certificate just so he could skip practice for a few days.

Oh wait, he did, and he got away with it.

“You look like a tomato” Goshiki pokes you on the cheek, the redness slowly fading but your face still slightly swollen. “Tomato-chan~”

Tendou grinned at the cute nickname, tomato-chan? He was so going to start calling you that from now on.

“Oh wait (Y/n), let me take a picture of you first. This would be a great addition to my scrapbook” Tendou patted his pockets for his phone but he felt none. “Eh?”

“What’s wrong?”

“I think I left my phone in the cafeteria” Tendou answered, slipping his hand inside his pockets for good measure, but the device was nowhere to be found. “Reon let me borrow your phone for a bit”

Reon shook his head “I left mine in the cafeteria as well”

“What?!” Tendou turned to look at the rest of the members as they too shook their heads.

You chuckled, patting his back “Guess there won’t be any funny photos of me for the time being” you started walking away waving at them. “See you tomorrow”

They waved back as they went back to the cafeteria, until a phone ringing cut through the silence. Ushijima stops in his tracks, fishing the phone from his pocket as he realizes that he forgot he brought it along with him the whole time.

“Wakatoshi-kun, why didn’t you tell me you had your phone with you?”

“I apologize Tendou, do you still want to take that photo?”

They turned their heads to the direction you left but you weren’t there anymore. Tendou’s shoulder slump, the opportunity to finally have a derpy picture of you gone and would probably be far into the future.

Yamagata just let out a laugh. “It seems like the goddess Kichijoten [2] favors (Y/n) more than anyone else”

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

[1] I’m a lefty so yeah, self promo I guess lol.

[2]  she’s the Japanese goddess of beauty.

[anystalker707]

I’m always yours

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader Genre: Fluff Word count: 2 338 Requested by @thunderpurple (who apparently got their account deactivated, but I hope they read it anyways) Summary: Reader is a famous singer who dates Gerard and writes a song about their relationship.

"What are you smiling about?" The sudden question pulls me away from my thoughts. I hum questioningly at first – Gerard's curious face is the first thing I process, eyes flickering over me in an attempt of understanding what's in my mind. He sits on the couch across from mine, his elbow over the couch's arm while he supports his chin on his palm.

"Oh," I say when finally understanding the question, adjusting my position – with the motion, my pen almost falls from my lap, but I'm able to catch it. "Erm, nothing," I answer with a smirk, raising my eyebrows lightly, demonstrating I'm just not telling him about it. Certain frustration hits me as I look down at my notebook – it seems like half of the ideas I believed to have written down didn't even leave my mind.

Gerard doesn't seem like he's giving up soon, furrowing his eyebrows as pouting lightly. "Is it about me? You've been observing me way too much." He stands up from the couch to sit down beside me, but I close the notebook and set it between me and the armrest before he does so. "That's not fair," he complains, eyeing the notebook with furrowed eyebrows.

"Yes, it is," I chuckle and place a kiss on his cheek. "I love it when you're sulky, you get all cute. Not like you're not cute normally, but you get it," I smile, watching him try to put on an angry look, but he ends up blushing. I can't help but to chuckle again, pulling him for a kiss.

"Agh, ew, no fucking on the couch." A sudden voice says and we pull away to see Frank opening the fridge – and most likely having entered the bus without us having noticed.

I roll my eyes with a small lazy smirk, deciding to joke, "you don't even know what happens when you're not around."

"And I'll be happy if it continues this way." He takes a bottle of water in hand, shooting us a playfully reprehending look as making his way out of the bus again; Gerard and I laugh at him.

"Aren't you going to tell me what're you doing?" His head rests on my shoulder as Gerard looks at me from under his lashes. Grinning, I shake my head. He sighs, defeated, and adjusts his posture. "Okay then," Gerard shrugs nonchalantly before leaning in for another kiss.

He must think he's very smart, doesn't he? I can feel the exact moment his hand reaches for the notebook, but I immediately slap it away, shooting him a look once breaking the kiss. "The more you try to see it," I tell him, narrowing my eyes, "the less I'm convinced to show it to you. You'll find out soon enough." With last peck is pressed to his lips, I grabbing the notebook, planning to leave it back in my bus.

"You're no fun," Gerard presses a kiss to my cheek.

"I'm not supposed to be," I tease, standing up and reaching for his hand. "C'mon, I changed my mind, I was just gonna leave this in the bus and come back, but we're not continuing inside here. I want to stretch my legs and I'm tired of staring at a TV or at the wall, the bus makes me feel suffocated." I chuckle seeing him roll his eyes, though agreeing. Maybe some time together will help me having an inspiration.

We grab a coffee from the café of the gas station and take a seat on the concrete step in front of the convenience store, observing the cars passing by. It's quite peaceful – the sun already set itself, so the sky has this golden shade in the horizon, slowly fading into a grayish blue which contrasts perfectly with the clouds, which still have a pink tinge. A stronger breeze hits once in a while, making a few of Gerard's strands cover his face – he hooks them behind his ear just for another breeze to send them flying again. The frustrated grunt he releases makes me chuckle.

"Wait, don't move," I say as getting my phone off my pocket. Doing as said, he hums questioningly. "You look beautiful, all aesthetic," I saw as opening the camera app, taking a few pictures of him. He furrows his eyebrows a bit in a wordless complain, but doesn't do anything to stop me either. Once I lower my phone, he nods towards it as if asking to see the pics.

"Ah, no, wait a minute," I say, changing the camera to the frontal one and moving closer to him – leans in, his cheek brushing mine as I snap another couple of photos. "Imma post these of us later," I hand him the phone to see the pics like he asked earlier, leaning a bit closer to him to see it too.

"Not the others too?" He asks curiously, returning the phone.

"Nah," I shake my head, "these are for personal archive." His scoff makes me grin. "I don't share every pic I take of you, Gee," I let my cup on the ground to be able to hug Gerard, pecking the side of his face. "I can't expose too much what's mine, even more with so many people wanting too," I mutter against his skin, the corners of my lips curling up into a smile seeing him blush – knowing I can make him blush is just amazing.

He hums softly in a mockingly judging tone, turning his face so his lips meet mine. "You do a great job," Gerard mutters on my lips before locking them in a short, sweet kiss. "But don't worry, whether near or far, I'm always yours."

~

Besides blood, lot of thoughts flood my head as sit upside down on the couch, looking at the nothing. Gerard needed to do whatever, so, with him away, it's the best time to try to write this song. I just want it to be a surprise.

Ray approaches, eyeing me curiously before taking a seat too, about a foot away from me and my guitar – which's actually Frank's, one he lent me earlier. "Why are you sitting like this, kid? For how long have you been like this? You'll pass out." Certain concern is mixed with his confusion, though most of his attention is turned to the phone in his hand.

"'Waiting for inspiration to come." I say as sitting upright again. The room spins under my gaze for a second, but it quickly goes back to normal since it hadn't been long since I had decided to sit like that. "I'm writing a new song," I explain, taking the guitar back on my lap again. "It feels like all my ideas slip away just because I need one then, when I notice, I'm just staring at a white paper waiting for the ideas to show up, y'know?"

Ray chuckles a bit as glancing at me, his curls moving as he nods. "I understand completely. Good luck, tho," he shoots me a smile.

"Thanks," I smile back, playing on the guitar what I've written until now. Turns out I end up finally finding an idea and, getting too engaged on writing the song, I just notice how late it is when the Gerard and Mikey are walking back inside the bus.

"Don't you have your own bus?" Mikey asks playfully, nudging my foot with his before sitting down across from Ray and I.

"Ah, sometimes I forget I do," I set my guitar laying on my lap as throwing my arms over my head to stretch myself. "But I wasn't supposed to be here yet, I just got too carried away..." Seeing Gerard's hand furtively reaching for my notes again makes me interrupt myself, slapping his hand away. "You're so stubborn!" I furrow my eyebrows at him, shooting him a look as standing up.

The guitar is left in a corner, against the wall, and I sigh dramatically, my notebook safely hugged close to myself, "how Mikey's being so rude, I'm already leaving. 'Hope y'all have fun without my illustrious presence, then." My words make Mikey and Ray hum or scoff sarcastically – I throw my nose in the air while walking away, stopping in the last moment to look back and laugh with them.

"Let me go with you," Gerard says as following me, taking my hand in his. He blushes lightly at the peck I give him before we continue walking.

By the time the tour is over, the song is completely perfected – with a little fixing here and there in the lyrics, melody and adding a few other instruments. I smile as listening to the final result, all happy about it. Today completes exact five years since I met Gerard – I remember clearly internally freaking out when meeting him and the calls until four in the morning we started having not long later – so it's obviously the best day to release the song.

I'm anxious about posting it, mostly about Gerard's reaction; I never told him what was the song about and when I was releasing it. Breathing in deeply and exhaling to make myself calmer, I decide to finally post the announcement of the single. First on Twitter, then on Instagram, both with the same caption – I've been working on this song for a long time; it was difficult summing up in five minutes everything (or almost everything) between me and the love of my life, but here it is.

I bite back a grin as placing the phone inside the pocket of my hoodie – that's actually Gerard's, but I'll just return it when it doesn't smell like him anymore and grab another, maybe one of his green jackets – and look for Gerard around the house.

Gerard's in the kitchen when I find him, preparing himself a mug of coffee. Not saying anything, I simply observe, quietly moving to the counter, leaning forward with my hands on the cold surface. He takes a quick glance at first before looking at me properly, humming quietly in acknowledge to my presence. Grabbing his mug, he gives me a peck on the lips in his way out of the kitchen.

He's most likely returning to his office, since there's where he was when I last checked, not long ago. I wait for a moment before following him, but I find him in the living room and wait until he goes up the stairs. Again, after a moment, I'm already after him, however, I almost jump three feet in the air when turning around the corner and seeing Gerard there – he eyes me unamused, sipping on his coffee.

"Why are you following me?" He asks, narrowing his eyes.

I blush, playing with the hem of the hoodie's sleeve. "Ah, um," I think for a moment. "It's a big house," I shrug, remembering the excuse he gives when following me around my house or his own – he always walks in the room about a minute later and blushes, getting all fidgety, when finding me staring at the doorway, waiting for him with a knowing look. "I feel alone...?" It ends up sounding more like a question and I try to crack a convincing grin in the end.

He chuckles softly as stepping closer, pressing a peck to my lips, leaving behind the bitter taste of coffee. "You can stay in the office too, y'know," he raises an eyebrow at me, nodding towards the said room. "I also enjoy your company."

I'm about to agree when it suddenly comes to my mind – maybe he'll check his phone when getting back there and I don't want to be around, watching his reaction to the song. "Ah," I look away, stepping back again, "no, actually, I'm fine," I force a grin, ignoring his questioning gaze. "I'll go watch something on the TV."

Before Gerard can question me, I'm already turning around and going down the stairs, throwing myself on the couch once in the living room. The TV ends up turning into just another detail in the background, losing my attention to my phone as I read the comments on the new song.

There are these hate comments as always – most of them are attacking me about for just wanting to use Gerard and MCR, which simply doesn't make sense since I was already famous before meeting them and our relationship didn't come out to the public until about a year ago.

People started suspecting about it and the media was also annoying a lot, trying to figure out the truth. So, in an interview to MCR and I before a concert I was opening for them, when the interviewer asked us about it, I just kissed Gerard in front of the camera and walked away. I remember how Gerard just shrugged at the guy and followed me while Frank watched with a grin – he had already figured out about us by himself – and Mikey and Ray stood there containing amused smiles.

The comments do make me feel bad sometimes, but I believe people would like it to be in my place, so I try to not bother too much. There are the people who actually like me, above all, and who support us together. Not like we need their approval, but that's it.

Arms being wrapped around me suddenly pull me away from my thoughts – I blush as coming back to reality and remembering everything, shrinking a bit while Gerard covers my face with kisses. "Gerard!" I say through a chuckle, in a reprehending tone, interrupted when a last kiss is pressed to my lips.

"You're the best," he says, kissing me deeply before giving me a chance to answer. "I love you so much, you make me feel so special, you're literally the best thing that ever happened to me." Once again, he kisses me.

As much as the kiss is good, I pull away a few seconds later to answer. I grin sheepishly, "you too, Gee, I love you too."

[kingsheadharborrp]

Chloe Li

Name: Chloe Li

Date of birth: December 9th, 1994

Age: 26

Gender/Pronouns: cis woman, she/her

Occupation: Personal Trainer

Hometown: Camden, Maine

Length of time in King’s Head Harbor: two years

Neighborhood: Bayside Bluffs

Faceclaim: Leah Lewis

BIOGRAPHY (Trigger Warning: Death, Drug use, Car accident)

The definition of gifted child burnout could be accompanied by a picture of Chloe Li. She was a sweet girl who grew up with a humble life in Camden, Maine. From the time she was a little girl, she yearned to see more than her little town of 5,000 had to offer. She wanted nothing more than to get out of Camden, and find greener pastures, but that required more money than her parents had. Her only hope of getting out of her small town was a college scholarship. They were hard to come by, and everyone knew that. Especially for a girl in a town as small as her own, but she was determined. If anyone could make it out of her little town, it was Chloe.

Chloe was a smart girl who was consistently on the honor roll. But, so were many other students at her school. Academics wouldn’t be enough to secure a scholarship, so she decided sports were her best bet. She took up Soccer, Softball, Swimming, and even Gymnastics. Her evenings were filled with practices, and her weekends were filled with games almost all year long. Her parents implored her to slow down time and time again, but she could see the pride in their faces every time she led her team to victory. She was a shining beacon of hope to the Camden locals, the vision of a girl who could rise out of their small town and make something of herself. She couldn’t just throw all of that away.

Still, consistent practice, and disregard for her own physical and mental health was enough to wear anyone down. As time passed, Chloe found herself struggling more and more to find balance between everything she was forcing herself to juggle, only exasperated by the pride the town held for her. Chloe felt like she was letting everyone down by taking a break, but she knew she couldn’t continue at the pace she was going. She would take her fall from grace in stride, and accept that she could not be the pride and joy of her small town. But, as Chloe descended the stairs in her little home, she was met with her parents holding a scholarship offer from the University of Michigan for Soccer. It was a full ride to a huge university hours away from Camden. It was everything Chloe had always wanted, but it suddenly felt more like a death sentence. The pride on her parent’s faces spoke volumes. There was no way to turn down that offer. Her dreams of travel had been squashed again, this time by what she hoped to be her ticket to freedom.

College was a bigger struggle than Chloe expected. She hoped that a new setting would reinvigorate her, and that she would find the joy in school and life again outside of her town. But, it just seemed to make everything worse. She couldn’t hold a candle to the athletic talent of the other girls on her Soccer team. She struggled to make friends, and excel in her classes the way she had in Camden. She was sleeping through class, her grades were dropping, and her coaches were consistently putting forth the warning that she would lose her scholarship if things didn’t turn around. Her parents worried, asking if she needed to take the rest of the Semester off. She could go home, and reset. But, Chloe couldn’t face her family as a failure. She couldn’t bear to hear the suspicious whispers and sympathetic looks of her neighbors. Going home wasn’t an option for her, so she did the only other thing she could think of: She dropped out.

Before she could even bring herself to think it through, Chloe found herself buying a one way bus ticket for the next route leaving. She fled, ignoring the stream of messages that streamed in as word spread of what had happened. She’s never looked back. She hasn’t returned to Maine since that day, too scared to face the people she failed. Instead, she traveled around, hoping to find what he was looking for. It never came, instead just being struck with the weight of loneliness. She was alone in the world, and it was of her own design. Eventually, she found herself down south, looking for a bar that wouldn’t card her. She was too young to drink, but that wasn’t what she needed. She just needed a single night where she didn’t feel so alone. Finally, she found a bar that would let her in, and that’s where she met Kim.

It was sudden. One minute, she’s telling her story, the next she’s been taken under the wing of Kim, and this group of bikers. They looked out for her, taught her things. She felt like she had a family again. More importantly, she had Kim. She was everything Chloe dreamed to be. She was fearless, independent, and brave. It didn’t take long for Chloe to fall fast and hard. Their romance was inevitable. Chloe could swear that those were the best three years of her life, filled with the romance and adventure that she had always wanted. She was a part of something amazing, and it felt like nothing could touch her. Of course, nothing gold can stay. Her idealized life was quickly struck down with an unexpected death of one of their members.

Chloe always thought that the constant harping in Drivers Ed on being aware of motorcyclists was redundant until her friend’s accident. It wasn’t anything dramatic, a car turning left when they shouldn’t have, but it took his life in an instant. It shattered Chloe. She had known it was a possibility, but the shock of real life breaking the fantasy she had created was too much for her. She became withdrawn, angry, and turned to drugs to cope. She could see the looks the others gave her. They knew what she was doing, and they were scared for her, but she couldn’t find it in her to stop. It only furthered her need to pull away, not willing to face the sympathetic looks that her failure had brought about. It was worse with Kim, who Chloe pushed away harder than the rest. Her new habit strained their relationship to the breaking point, Kim eventually ending things with Chloe. She couldn’t find it in herself to stay after that.

In the middle of the night, she packed up what she could, and left again. She had once again failed the people she cared for the most, and there was no way she could look them in the eyes again. Chloe had no destination, no direction, and no idea who she was anymore. All she knew was if she kept going, it would be easier to make it all go away. She traveled from state to state for years, piecing herself back together along the way. She eventually found herself in King’s Head Harbor, Rhode Island two years ago, and hasn’t had the nerve to go any further North towards her family, but the guilt of what lies behind her is too great to face. Instead, she’s found herself laying down unexpected roots in King’s Head. She would even go so far as to call it home.

Personality

+ Independent, Loyal, Compassionate

- Impulsive, Flighty, Hot-Headed

WRITTEN BY Casey

[snarkytiara]

A loooong post, and I know long essays can be annoying, so putting behind a cut, but I have some Thoughts when I see a post like this by @willandkate

- First: I’m not sure who you are trying to convince with your post? Also, you start with William’s 2016 statement, but then the rest of your post tries to make a case for why statements are not the BRF thing and that other gestures were made. The statement from William shows there is precedent for statements supporting Harry and Meghan, so your argument isn’t very strong.

- Small gestures were not going to cut it! The response to Meghan is on a whole other level, and that should have necessitated other measures IMO. If you are having to sum up all the small moments for fellow royal watchers, who pay attention to this stuff, how is anybody else even going to notice?

- Stop normalizing the press abuse of royal women. If your response to the abuse Meghan gets, is to sum up what other royal women dealt with in the past, you’ve lost the argument. The amount of abuse any of these women got is not ok, and you going straight to mentioning that abuse is a means to deflect from talking in depth about all the facets of what Meghan has been dealing with. A big issue in the royal fandom is still the amount of people unwilling to talk about and understand what only Meghan deals with within the BRF (racism and xenophobia). It makes some people uncomfortable to talk about it and it’s fucking sad. The BRF wasn’t ready for growth, but neither were some people in the royal fandom. It’s a big problem to continue to see this conflating of Meghan’s treatment with the treatment of other royal women in the BRF.

- The abuse Meghan gets is contributing to a national (and international lbr) debate about racism in the UK. POC in commonwealth countries are looking at this and it reflects badly on the BRF. This is a huge added element to the treatment of Meghan, that is not present in abuse that other royal women got in the past. That Kate got called ‘Waity Katy’ by the press, dit not lead to the possibility of negative sentiment in CW countries towards the monarchy. This was said last month:

“This week a senior Commonwealth figure told me that the tabloid treatment of Meghan – so clearly racist to observers in other parts of the world, while large parts of the British public remain in denial – is having a knock-on effect in making it harder for him to promote Britain abroad.” - Afua Hirsch, The Guardian

- You summing up all these perceived gestures, does not say anything about how Meghan (and Harry) experienced that ‘support’. Are you deciding for Harry and Meghan that it was enough? Did you really expect them to say otherwise during the engagement interview? And those small moments William and Kate spoke about them, what else were they going to say? On the surface, a show of support, but tells us absolutely nothing about how things are behind closed doors. Your post decidedly ignores that.

- After all this supposed support, Harry and Meghan still left. Fact. Is that all on them? The warm embrace of the Cambridges must have felt a bit too warm for them I guess. They couldn’t handle all the love. Your post lacks analysis into the possible reasons for Harry and Meghan and the shared blame of different parties in things coming to a head in this way.

- I also have the following question: if you are going to call out the Sussexes for overshadowing other royals, you have to be fair. What did you think of Kate launching her 5 question survey on the same day as Charles’ big speech in Davos? Is that not overshadowing him? Kate had been working on this for two years, but she just has to launch on the same day as a big Charles speech, that is important to him? Genuinely curious how you view that. And if a promo for Harry and Meghan’s documentary overshadows a Cambridge tour, seems to me that is a Cambridge problem. Harry and Meghan have no say over when ITV airs a promo. 

- Harry and Meghan didn’t deserve a statement of support, because they made the announcement that they were leaving, without consent? Weird take, as it’s odd to say in retrospect that they didn’t deserve a statement earlier in 2019, when things were at their worst, because at the start of 2020 they made an announcement. That’s after the fact. The BRF knew about Harry and Meghan entertaining the possibility of stepping back. Fact. There was a reason they felt the need to go public with it now, as it has been mentioned they were halted and sent away by courtiers when they were trying to discuss things with the queen and Charles. Your post doesn’t explore the reason for why Harry and Meghan may have done what they did and incorrectly places all of the blame on them. 

- I don’t know if you watched Harry and Meghan’s documentary? A couple obviously struggling, and Meghan’s hard time as a royal is not going to be made better simply by a pat on the back from Kate after Serena lost at Wimbledon. It’s wild that you, and others, think that is doing enough to show support.

- None of what you’ve said takes into account the KP press approach over the past couple of years. For example, any small gesture of support from Kate to Meghan gets severely undermined when KP is completely fine with a press narrative meant to embiggen Kate, at Meghan’s expense. It’s naive to believe that KP has had no part in that and I’ve yet to see a Kate/Cambridge fan accept that reality and own that it’s been happening. The reality has always been that the BRF are fine throwing each other under the bus. PR and actually thinking about how that makes them look has never been the strong suit of this family.

- You know what else undermines any small gesture of support for Meghan? The seemingly huge gestures of support from the queen to Andrew! If Liz keeps taking Andrew out and about, I sure as fuck am not still giving her kudos for taking Meg on an engagement back in June of 2018! And sure, it would’ve been smart optics for Harry and Meghan to visit Balmoral, and I would have advised them of that if I worked for them, but also; should they have visited before or after the queen was seen going to church with a smiling Andrew the day after Epstein died? Effectively showing she doesn’t give a fuck about her own image either. You could argue that isn’t a great advertisement for wanting to visit the queen.. Plus Harry and Meghan live(d) in Windsor, where they queen spends most of her time anyway.

- Speaking of the Queen, it is so often ignored how much influence she does have over the press. I’m sure over the years there has been many a time where she has intervened on behalf of the likes of Andrew. Why is it that Meghan has to have the stiff upper lip? Because this is what all royal women just have to face?

- I find it odd that you are only blaming Harry and Meghan for possibly feeling isolated. A struggling couple, dealing with a lot, should receive most of that blame? That darn Harry and Meghan are just being so difficult because they didn’t feel that William and Kate standing near them that time in Westminster Abbey was enough!1! They are so ungrateful. 

- Harry and Meghan leaving looks bad for the BRF, however you slice it. It reflects badly on them. Even if you don’t believe that, I’m sure you still feel that all this drama should have been prevented, for the sake of your faves? If this has been a topic of conversation with Harry and Meghan since last year, then why not also make it a topic of conversation how the rest of the BRF could and should have done more to prevent them choosing to leave? 

All in all, your post on this is very superficial and lacks nuance, but that tracks with what I’ve seen from most Cambridge fans. I know there is no point convincing you, and others, just like there is no point in your post trying to convince Sussex fans. But this had to be said and honestly I’ve been sitting on this since after the documentary aired.

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

S.T. REWRITE - S2:E6; Chapter Six, The Spy - [Pt. 4 - FINAL PART]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

Will’s connection to a shadowy evil grows stronger, but no one’s quite sure how to stop it. Elsewhere, Dustin and Steve forge an unlikely bond.

||3rd Person POV||

Will stares ahead at the map of pictures sprawled across the table before him. Per his instruction, the medical team had gathered and allowed his mother, Bob, Mike and more importantly, himself to see their record of the maps he had created. The other doctor stands with the others impatiently, finally, he breaks the silence.

"Sam, this is ludicrous."

Dr. Owens is quick to silence him.

"Just give him a moment, okay?"

"We don't have time--"

"Hey, jackass," Hopper calls, cutting the man off. "why don't you do us all a favor and shut up, okay?"

Will rises from his seat, and Owens begins to herd the doctors away, making room for him to circle the table. His eyes studiously scan the paper trails, and it brings him to the end of the conference table. With a steady hand, he points to the pooled photographs that form the hub.

"That's it."

Owens steps forward, leaning down ever slightly and speaks gently.

"That's what? What- What's there, Will?"

A frown flickers across his face.

"I don't know." He mumbles. "I just know he doesn't want me to see there. I think it's important."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Under Owens’ word, a team of the lab's soldiers and scientists gear up for their journey into the tunnels.

Elsewhere, Steve and the kids prepare for Dart's arrival. Max, Dustin, and Lucas prepare the bus as their base while Steve secures the surrounding area.

The quarantine doors of the lab's entrance to the tunnels open with a hiss. The team of soldiers step forward and into the affected area and prepare the elevator. Hopper and Owens watch anxiously from the other side of the glass as the team lowers themselves into the network of underground tunnels.

Steve begins the trail of gasoline, starting at the pile of bait that had been left for Dart and towards the entrance of the bus. Max finds a rusted latter in a pile of clutter, the perfect size for the bus's roof entrance.

The elevator reaches the pit of the tunnels, the grated metal floor touches the molded ground and the team disperses. One of many soldiers steadily adjusts the attached camera on their suit. Above ground and back inside the lab, one scientist adjusts the screen and assures everything is in place. He unfolds the rough sketch of the tunneled system taken from the conference room map.

"Let's see if this kid's a wizard or schizo, Doc."

Owens and Hopper shift uneasily, and Hopper runs a coarse and calloused hand across his face in his nerves. The scientist at the control panel switches on the coms, the action creates a harsh ring as the sounds adjust and he leans forward into the mic.

"First door on your right, gentlemen."

The team in the tunnels steadily gather information, their flashlights raised and weapons poised as they begin their trek.

One by one, the kids file into the bus. Steve is the last to enter, assuring everyone makes it onto the bus. He takes one last lingering look around at their work and notes their timing. The sun had just begun to set and the golden rays of sunlight had just begun to kiss the horizon, they had finished just in time.

He steps inside and the bus door slams shut, closing them all inside as they begin their long wait.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Night has fallen and with it a soft sheet of fog blankets the junkyard. Far enough from city lights, the stars are visible, hanging brightly in the night sky. His binoculars around his neck, Lucas ascends the creaky latter to the top of the bus. He positions himself on his stomach, where he can safely hide behind the barricade of tires they had procured.

Ignoring the knots that cool in his stomach from the frightful thought, he begins his shift of lookout, eyes peeled for any sign of Dart.

Inside, the others rest wait patiently as for any signs of activity. Max has occupied one of the vacant bus seats, and she sits slouched, arms folded less than impressed with the outcome of the night. Bored, she watches Steve across the bus as he routinely flips and closes his lighter, his eyes trained on it in a weak attempt to combat boredom.

Anxious to pass the time, and her curiosity peaked as to why her high school stepbrothers rival was in on the charade, she attempts to make conversation.

"So you really fought one of these things before?"

He tears his eyes away from the small flame in his hands to meet her eye. He gives her a flat smile and nods silently before returning his attention to the lighter. With one swift hand movement, it clicks shut and he returns to his physical mantra of opening and closing the small device.

"And you're, like, totally, one hundred percent sure it wasn't a bear?"

Steve is surprised to find a weak and breathless chuckle escape him. Dustin - who had been nervously pacing the bus - stopped suddenly, turning tp her with his voice raised.

"Shit. Don't be an idiot. Okay? It wasn't a bear."

Max does a double-take, surprised at the kid's actions and it was enough to capture Steve's attention.

"Why are you even here if you don't believe us?" Dustin asks shortly. "Just go home."

Her eyebrows twitch up in surprise as she rises from her seat and heads for the latter.

"Geesh. Somebody's cranky. Past your bedtime?" She quips, before disappearing up the latter.

Steve watches in bemused shock, fighting the grin that twitches at his lips and his eyes fall to Dustin. The boy is still pacing, bow from stewing in anger that elicits several huffs from him.

"That's good." Steve praised. "Just show her you don't care."

Dustin stops suddenly, his voice flat but upset.

"I don't."

A sly grin forms on Steve's face, and he gives the boy a wink.

"Why are you winking?" Dustin asks, annoyed. "Steve? Stop."

With effort, Steve managed to put away the smirk and the two are soon cloaked in silence once more.

Up on the bus' roof, Max has joined Lucas's company and together, the two look out on the surrounding fog.

"It's kind of awesome." She says.

Lucas looks at her in surprise, his brows furrowing into a curious frown.

"Huh?"

"The fog, I mean." She says. "It looks like the ocean."

Lucas lowers the binoculars, his gaze turning to her.

"You miss it?"

"What?"

Lucas hoists himself up, bringing himself to a more comfortable sitting position. When he looks at her, it is not hard for him to notice the change in her. She gazes out at the landscape, her eyes occasionally flickering to his but most importantly he sees the forlorn look in them.

"The ocean," he says. "The waves? California?"

Max shrugs, her face melting into a weak frown and her attention shifts somewhere else. He smiles weakly.

"Hawkins seems pretty lame, I bet." He offered.

"No, no, no, it's not that." She says. "It's just..."

The words die on her tongue when she realizes who she is talking to, opening up to. What she is talking about. And yet, she doesn't let it stop her and she doesn't know why. Taking a deep breath, she lets the words spill out.

"My dad's still there. So..."

"Why?" Lucas asks sadly.

Her regular composure comes back in a fleeting moment, and she chuckles dryly.

"It's this legal term called "divorce." She quips. "See, when two married people don't love each other anymore..."

"Yeah." Lucas mumbles.

They share a weak smile, and reluctantly Max continues.

"My mom and my step-dad, they wanted a fresh start away from him. As if... As if he was the problem, which is total bull. And things... are just worse now."

Her saddened gaze hardens on the land below them, and Lucas can tell, in this moment, she is not all there.

"My step brother's always been a dick, but now he's just angry... all the time..." She sniffles, breaking her eyes away for a brief moment. "Well, he can't take it out on my mom, so..."

"So he takes it out on you?" Lucas asks, his heart aching.

She looks at him through the tears pooling in her eyes, and she looks just as surprised that she is sharing this. She shakes her head in hopes it will magically make everything better.

"I don't even know why I'm telling you this," Max says, the lump in her throat hardening as she struggles at what to say next. "It's just... I know that I can be a jerk like him sometimes, and I do not want to be like him. Ever. I guess I'm angry, too, and... I'm sorry."

Lucas says nothing, only staring at her in astonishment that she was opening up. The embarrassment grows in her and she angrily wipes away her tears once more.

She's embarrassed by the pitiful look in his eye, and her cheeks darken, already pink from crying. Angrily, she swipes at her cheek, catching her tears and laughs dryly at herself.

"Jesus! What is wrong with me?"

Lucas is snapped out of his daze and he sits up fully, leaning forward. When he speaks, his tone is soft and urgent. Reassuring.

"Hey, you're nothing like your brother, okay?"

Max listens, taken aback as he continues.

"You're cool and different. And you're super smart. And you're, like," he throws his hands up with a gesture, smirking. "totally tubular."

His antics crack a smile, and much to her surprise she feels a warmth spread in her chest. A warmth she hasn't felt in a long, long time.

"Nobody actually says that, you know."

"Well, I do now."

She nods, a sarcastic gleam in her eye.

"And it makes you seem really cool."

A thoughtful look crosses Lucas's face, and he tilts his head.

"I like talking with you, Mad Max."

"And I like talking with you, stalker." She smiles.

A wild growl echoes from the distance capturing everyone's attention. Down below, Steve and Dustin scurry to the nearest window, peering out into the fog. Hearts hammering in their chest, they scan the land for any signs of movement, their eyes peering through the grates window from behind the sheets of metal they had used to barricade the bus.

"You see him?" Dustin asks quietly.

"No."

Dustin turns, calling up to the roof.

"Lucas, what's going on?"

"Hold on!" He calls, binoculars aimed at junkyard entrance.

His view flies across the landscape in a hurry, Max watching anxiously beside him as she squints through the yard. Lucas tenses when he catches a soft and barely audible thump from the east entrance, and his binoculars land on a car in the distance he could have sworn moved.

"Shit." He breathes.

Max's gaze flickers to him for a brief moment before hastily scanning the fog once more.

"What? Did you see something?"

"I-I don't know-"

His thought is cut short by his own sudden gasp, the binoculars had found a four-legged figure stalking through the fog.

"I've got eyes!" He calls. "Ten o'clock. Ten o'clock!"

Sure enough, Steve and Dustin locked eyes on the dark figure making its way through the yard.

"There," Steve whispers, his heartbeat spiking.

"What's he doing?" Dustin asks.

"I don't know."

Lucas and Max study the horizon, and Max - who now holds the binoculars - spots a flurry legged creature hidden in the fog. She turns to Lucas, giving him a skeptical look.

"Wait. You sure that's not a dog?"

"What?"

A familiar chitter rings through the air, and everyone stiffens. A worried look crosses Steve's face when he sees Dart circling the bait.

"He's not taking the bait. Why's he not taking the bait?"

"Maybe he's not hungry?" Dustin offered.

"Maybe he's sick of cow,"

Steve backs away from the window, his heart hammering. He knows what he has to do, but he doesn't like it. Dustin looks at him worriedly, but Steve only nods before retrieving his bat and heading for the door.

"Steve? Steve, what are you doing? Steve?"

He turns, the moonlight pouring in from the roof hatch and illuminating his worried but determined features. He retrieves his lighter from his back pocket and holds it up.

"Just get ready." He says, tossing Dustin the lighter.

The bus doors open with a creak, and slowly Steve creeps outside, bat gripped tightly in hand. He takes a few cautious steps before the bus doors close with a creak. Slowly, he paces the grounds, twirling his bat in hands ready to strike. He whistles, hoping to draw Dart near but nothing happens.

"Come on, buddy."

Max climbs hastily down the ladder, joining Dustin by the window.

"What's he doing?"

"Expanding the menu."

"Come on, buddy," Steve repeats, his voice wavering. "Come on, buddy. Come on. Dinner time. Human tastes better than cat, I promise."

Max shakes her head in disbelief, unable to tear her eyes away from the scene.

Dustin only grins in a mix of pride and awe.

"He's awesome."

Catching a glimpse of movement, a darkness in the fog, Steve swings his bat back and forth, causing a rift in the sea of fog. Slowly it disperses, revealing a snarling and newly evolved Dart. Roughly the size of a small wolf, he now looked more like a demogorgan than ever.

Up above, Lucas spots two more figures closing in on Steve from behind.

"Steve, watch out!" He cries.

"A little busy here!" Steve snaps.

"Three o'clock! Three o'clock!"

Reluctantly, he turns and to his horror, he sees what Lucas was talking about. Scaling the surrounds vehicles, are two more Dart like creatures slowly advancing on him.

In the bus, Dustin jumps to action.

"Steve!" He rips the bus door open. "Steve! Abort! Abort!"

Dart lunges at Steve before he can make his escape. Steve is able to dodge the creature's attack, just barely, and manages to duck behind a car. He can hear rapidly approaching footsteps and he turns quickly, the sharp edges of the bat striking away another demogorgan mutant.

"Steve run!"

"Steve hurry!"

With his latest opponent still winded, it buys Steve enough time to make a break for the bus, another creature hot on his heels. He has to dive, but he just barely makes it. His toes cross the threshold as Dustin closes the door. A loud thump reverberates through the bus and it shakes violently upon impact. The mutant demogorgons efforts to get inside do not cease, the horrible sound of metal being clawed chills their ears and the bus door continues to move.

"Holy shit!"

"Are they rabid or something?" Max shrieks.

Steve grabs an extra sheet of metal from the windshield and places it against the bouncing door. He plants his feet against it, and the sheet begins to bounce just as so.

"They can't get in!" Lucas cries. "They can't!"

The bus takes several blows, and the whole bus rocks back and forth with it. The sound of metal hitting metal grabs their attention from the back of the bus. One of them had broken through a gap. Steve is there in seconds, with all his might he swings the bat at the slimy arm poking through.

Dustin grabs his headset, flipping it on screams into the mic.

"Is anyone there? Y/n? Mike? God! Anyone!"

Another break in the wall sends Max and Lucas across the bus, eliciting several horrified shrieks from each of them.

"We're at the old junkyard," Dustin continues. "and we are going to die!"

Another loud and heavy thump shakes the bus, turning Max's head. It had come from the back, but all she saw was Steve finishing off the first beach. Then another thump came, and that is when she noticed the ceiling of the bus bend under each thump.

One was on the bus, and it was heading straight for the roof hatch. It grew closer with every thump and slowly she looked up. For the briefest of seconds, all she saw was the night sky. Then slowly, a large slimy head came into view. Its grey, petal-liked head opened up as it snarled at her, revealing hundreds of its thorn shaped teeth and drool dribbled down the latter before her.

Her mouth opened, and her petrified screams hit her ears before she could even register she was screaming. Max stumbled back, and Steve's arm sweeping her aside assisting and he quickly took her place.

"Out of the way! Out of the way! You want some? Come get this!"

He has then spiked sat in the creature’s direction and it hunches down in an attack position. Its mouth opens once more, and it lets out awful roar. He grips the bat tighter, ready to swing when something catches its attention. Its guard lowers and looks off at the horizon in curiosity and Steve freezes.

The beast draws back in another snarl and in the blink of an eye, a thunderous boom echoes across the valley and sends it flying with a painful shriek. With it, a violent force rocks the bus that sends everyone in a mad scramble for balance. For a moment, Dustin fears in the midst of all the commotion, he had grown faint. A gust of warm wind accompanies the tremor that he first mistakes as hot flashes. But when his ears perk, they barely catch the fading echoes of stained scream.

Everyone has frozen, completely rooted in place in fear of another attack and Max is the only one brave enough to speak.

"What the hell was that?" She hissed.

More tremors shake the ground and several grunts and thumps are heard. Everyone scrambles to the window when they realize they are ni o longer the target. Dustin is the last to reach the window but he realizes exactly what it is before ever laying eyes on it.

"Stay back!" Cries a familiar voice. "Stay, the hell, back!"

Not single soul dares to blink, much too captivated by the change in events. Packed in against the windows, fighting for window space, they stare through the grated window in complete shock and awe as Y/n Henderson battles the mutants. They almost didn't recognize her. Besides the fact she was constantly moving - barely dodging their attacks - and the powerful bursts of energy emanating from her hands, she held herself differently.

She was also dressed in baggy, shoddy clothing. Ripped jeans two sizes too big that were buckled just above her waist, and several layered shirts Dustin nor Lucas had ever seen her wear. Everyone watched dumbfounded as she threw her hands up left and right, and with it, hot bursts of air blowing knocking back the creatures.

She bent over, grabbing her knees and they could see her swallowing as much air as she could, her knees wobbling. Before they could snap into action to help, she rose once more and held her hands out ready to strike once more.

"Steve! What the hell are we doing, we gotta go help her! Now!" Dustin hissed.

Steve nodded a bewildered look on his face still. Nevertheless, his feet finally began to respond to his brain’s signals and he headed for the door. The bus rattled with his movements and the Demogorgon's stilled, looking towards the bus. The kids' eyes widened and for a moment, Dustin feared they had been heard, further agitated the creatures. But much to everyone's surprise, one by one they retreated.

They circled Y/n, looking ready to pounce and several even snarled at her, but they kept moving. They ran straight for the bus and Y/n's eyes widened in fear, she ran after them, ready to strike again when she stopped.

The creatures had run around the bus, completely fleeing from the scene. When she was sure they were safe, she collapsed to her knees, panting heavily.

"What the fuck just happened?" Max exclaimed suddenly.

Her words snapped everyone out of their daze and hastily they fled the bus, pooling put onto the ground.

"Y/n! Oh, my God, what the shit!" Dustin cried, running to her figure and sliding across the grass to join her.

Y/n looked up from the ground, the color was drained from her face and branching put from her eyes and lips were a million tiny spider veins. She was still panting, gasping for breath but she was still very much aware of her surroundings.

"You're... welcome." She panted.

A squeaky, relieved laugh erupted from Dustin's throat and he tackled her in a hug, nearly sending her to the ground. Smiling, she reciprocated and after a moment the siblings parted.

She looked around at all the widened eyes, everyone was rendered speechless, waiting for her to speak. She licked her chapped lips and she hurriedly swiped away a drop of blood from her ears as it tickled her skin.

"I'll explain, I promise." She said, slowly regaining her composure. "But somebody better tell me why the everloving fuck are those back?"

"Are you kidding me? You can't just pull that shit and expect us to move on!" Lucas shouted.

"Shit," Max breathes, looking at Lucas in defeat. "So, like, you really weren't kidding. I owe you an apology."

Y/n blinked rapidly in surprise, her eyebrows shooting up. Her wild eyes flickered to Lucas questioningly. She had fully expected to have to explain herself to Max and Steve, but she never expected them to know.

"Lucas, you told her?" Y/n exclaims.

Lucas shifts uncomfortably on his feet, a sign of guilt despite his strong defense.

"I had to! Besides, she's been a big help and right now, we need a lot of that."

"Lucas," Y/n warns.

"What does it matter?" He snaps defensively. "You'd have to tell her anyway since she just saw all that!"

"Hey," Steve called.

"Well, she wouldn't be here if you hadn't involved her!" Y/n snapped back, the grass beginning to heat beneath her and Dustin.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey!"

Steve's voice rings out in the hearing, and finally everyone silences and looks to him meekly.

"Jesus, you shits never listen," He grumbles, running one hand through his hair. "Look, I don't know what the hell just happened, and I'd sure as hell love some answers, but we have a bigger problem on our hands. We've got a whole lot more of these things to deal with than we thought, and we need to know where they're headed so we can stop them."

"What are you talking about? Y/n scared them off," Dustin said.

Y/n shook her head, a quizzical look on her face.

"No. No, I don't think I did." She said in realization. "Sure I took by them by suprise, but I was vastly outnumbered. They could have put up a bigger fight, but..."

"But they just stopped." Max finished her voice grave.

Y/n nodded, lost in thought when Dustin rose to his feet, extending his hand for his sister. Grateful, she took it and wobbled to her feet, dusting off her palms and shins.

"Do you think they heard something?"

"I don't know," Steve mumbled, his bat coming to rest over his shoulder. "But whatever it is, it can't be good."

There was a pause as they each echoed around worriedly at one another. It was soon disturbed by Lucas, who exhaled sharply.

"Okay, seriously, I can't take it anymore!" Lucas huffed, crossing his arms. "Stop dodging the question, and tell us what the hell is going on!"

Y/n looked around at the curious faces and sighed.

"Christ! I will!" She said, eyes darting between Steve and Max. "But I at least have the right to know how and why they are here seeing as they're about to hear what I have to say."

"We're low on hands, seeing as you or Mike, or even Will haven't been answering," Dustin says, his gone slipping into a scold.

Y/n winces, taking in a sharp breath through her clenched teeth.

"About that..."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Several beams of light crawl across the murky ground. Apart from the soft crackling of their comms, the squelching sound of footsteps bounce around the tunnel.

"Almost there, ladies."

"Roger."

After several twists and turns, the men find themselves at their target location. The tunnels have led them to the hub, they scan the area for any disturbances but find none. Just several other entrances to the hub, and among the small space are several giant spores that move as if they're breathing.

"Stay frosty, boys." One orders.

With great caution, they step forward, but a sudden snap echoes off the walls and they stand aside to see several bones scatter amongst the damp earth.

From up above in the lab, Hopper takes note of the dots on the screen. His eyes widen in recognition and he urgently steps forward to examine the monitor further.

"Wait. That's where I was?"

"What?" Owens asks, turning.

"It's that damn graveyard." He says.

The soldiers slowly scatter across the grounds, several bones crush beneath their feet. The team's leader grips his weapon tighter and scans the area further as he speaks.

"Sir, there's nothing here."

The man at the controls turns his head to address Owens. His lips press into a firm line and he shrugs halfheartedly.

"Looks like your kid's full of shit, Doc."

Hopper and Owens wear a similar frown and share an uneasy glance. They both know something is amiss, but they say why. Suddenly, as if to answer their suspicions, another high pitched growl echoes through the soldiers' coms.

The men turn in circles, to their surprise, large clouds of fog begin to pool in from every tunnel surrounding them. It engulfs their feet and settles around their ankles, spiking their nerves as they hear the growling grow closer.

Elsewhere in the facility, Will lays stiffly in his hospitality bed. He has paled once more and his lip quivers, her heart clenched with guilt.

Finally, he gathers the courage and strength to speak. Speak as himself. Though it is still with great difficulty, the second presence inside him fighting to keep him quiet but.

"I-I'm sorry." He whimpers.

Joyce and the others perk up in confusion, and Joyce wastes no time in reassuring him. She gently rubs his arm, and her heart is gripped by fear as she recognizes the same in her son.

"What? What do you mean, sweetie?" She cooes.

His breathing grows labored as he fights a losing battle against the tears forming his eyes. He looks to his mother, and he can feel himself drowning in guilt and regret. He shudders at the thought of what he has done and weakly he speaks through the tears.

"He made me do it." He sniffles.

Joyce rises to her feet to comfort her son, unaware of the thoughtful glance on Mike's face.

"Who? Who made you do what?"

Will's darkened pupils look up at her in fear, and he speaks through choked cries, his body shaking like a leaf.

"I told you," He says. "They upset him. They shouldn't have done that. They shouldn't have upset him."

Before Joyce can question him further, Mike looks up at his friend, completely aghast. His stomach plunges in fear and his eyes widen in realization.

"The spy." He says fearfully, and he sees Will subtly shake his head. "The spy!"

Mike jumps to his feet, startling Bob and Joyce in the process and bolts through the door.

Above the tunnels in the observation room, a scientist monitoring the radar turns suddenly addressing the team.

"We've got movement." She informs.

The man grips the microphone tightly, one eye on the radar as he attempts to alert the team.

"You've got company, fellas."

Back in the hallway, Mike crashed into the guards stationed by the closed-off hallway. He fights and kicks with all his might, his voice elevated and frightened.

"I need to get through! It's a trap!"

The guards roughly push him back where he fell into Bob's arms, who had followed Mike into the hall. He attempts to pull him back but Mike continues to fight against him.

"It's a trap! I need to warn them. It's a trap!" He screams.

The fog has now engulfed the hub, and the team's vision is blurred. Several frightened and overlapping voices spill out into the air as they form a tight circle.

"I can't see shit! Where are they? Where are they?"

"They're right on you!" The tech urges, growing more frightened.

The radar has completely lit up, dozens of shots sprinkle the area and all they can do is watch, hoping their warning is enough. The cameras are fogged, the radar their only hope at saving them.

"Wait, what?"

"What was that?"

Several horrific screeches pierce the air, barely muffled through the coms. The radio channel is soon filled with gunfire and terrible shrieks of agony, and all they can do now is watch and listen in horror, knowing there is little to no hope of saving them now.

And in a frantic effort to understand, Joyce lightly shakes Will's shoulders as he cries. She is choking back tears of her own as she does so.

"Will, sweets, talk to me. You got to help me understand."

Will is crying freely now, and he shakes violently with sobs.

"It's too late."

The last thing the observation team sees is the only remaining soldier scurry for the camera when all goes to static. Everyone is shocked into silence, and they look around at one another fearfully. Hopper is the only one to move, he has taken sight of the nearest radar and his blood runs cold. Every dot on the map in near-perfect sync flees through one tunnel.

The tunnel the soldiers had come from.

"You should go." Will sobs, his eyes filled with fear.

Moments later, the silence in the observation room is disturbed by familiar shrill cries that echo out from where the elevator had disappeared.

Hopper turns to face the glass as do the others, and everyone is suddenly aware - all too late - that things were only getting worse. He races to window, and from there, all he can see is the bottomless looking pit, but the shrill cries only grow stronger.

"They're almost here," Will says.

A concerned frown forms on Hopper's face as he studies the cables cautiously. The elevator cables begin to move, twist and twirl, creating a reverberating his of metal curling before settling into small vibrations. And out of the depths of the pit, one by one, the mutated army of Demogorgans emerges.

__________

Sorry if this chapter basically assumed what you usually wear. I normally stay away from all that, so if you usually wear that sort of stuff [I do too so I get it lol]. I do my best to let you guys imagine what you wear cause I always enjoy that in a reader insert. The clothes will be explained next episode! I just picture Y/n Henderson in clothes like max’s in season 2, handmedowns and stuff since the Hendersons probably aren't the *richest* and it's just Claudia Henderson so yeah

Just an fyi for chapter ahead:

Y/h = your height [tall, short, etc.] H/l = hair length H/t = hair type [curly, straight, etc.] H/c = hair color S/c = skin color

On that note, for reference for next chapter, I know we don't all look like our moms, but for the sake of the plot she looks like you in this story if she doesn't already. Thank you!

+++

Tag List: @dickkwad​​​ @aimee-lucass​​​ @iblesstherainsdown-in-africa​​​   @miscellaneoustoasts​​​ @happyandlonely-blog​​​ @missmulti​​​ @youpi-chan​​​ @peeperparkour​​​ @ba-responds​​​ @bibliophilesquared​​​ @blogforhoes​​​ @witch-of-all-things-soft​​​ @shawni-h​​ @whothefuckstolemykeds​​ @mirdall @fandom-imagines-xxx​​ @daughter-of-pan12​​ @stranger-things4​

DM me if you want to be added!