#sorry i need ed to post this but i got bored and tried reading something i am not a big fanfiction guy but sometimes Iget bored and its fu

[nfnfnfnfndnfkfjfndksjsndnxjsojsn]

[norcumii]

The Alpha 17 Supplemental

We all deserve something a little nice. So here’s a rough draft preview of the Star to Steer By Alpha 17 supplemental. (Please note, this is unbetaed, subject to change, etc.)

I hope y’all have a good day. <3

~~~~

Alpha 17 was a good soldier. He knew from a very early age that he was good at combat, loved it, and he pushed himself to be the best that the GAR could produce.

He knew some of his brothers thought that made him a bit simple, limited, unambitious.

He didn’t care.

The trainers worried, concerned that he didn’t seem to pick up outside hobbies or interests. He could practically hear ‘there’s more to life than fighting!’ every time he got that look, the doubt screaming in their eyes. He knew that meant another psych eval was in his near future, and it was frustrating because they didn’t get it.

He liked fighting. He liked the simple math, how goal plus obstacle equaled a straightforward picture. He could break that down, take it apart and rearrange the bits for more carnage, less causalities, different outcomes depending on the goal. Some brothers liked painting, or reading, or whatever. Alpha 17 liked taking a battlefield to pieces, and the addition of life’s chaos and unpredictability just made it exciting.

It got worse as he got older, signing up for the ARC program the literal minute he was able to. His batchmates only rolled their eyes a little – they at least didn’t poke at him about it – but everyone else? The whispers just got more annoying.

ARC training was serious business, was he sure he wanted to? ARC training meant learning the ropes for hosting - like that would ever matter - and that didn’t seem to be the kind of thing he’d like. ARC training had a ridiculous wash-out rate, required a steady temperament, often led to a much shorter lifespan, blah blah blah.

ARCs got into the middle of the most interesting shit, were given command and solo missions in equal measure. They didn’t stick to any one thing, historically they were the ones getting shit done, and if there was trouble, they were liable to be at ground zero.

Of course Alpha 17 wanted in on that. So he did something else he was very good at: he kept his head down and worked his shebs off.

Didn’t stop the occasional complaints. He brushed off the ones that he could, went through all the usual psych evals (and the bonus ones too), and kept learning what he could. He trained, he excelled, he fought.

The attitude didn’t stop coming either, but that was no surprise. He might be stubborn, but so was the rest of the GAR. Came with the job description. Not that he took more than he had to, of course. After one instructor complained about excessive casualties, the next exercise he took an absurdly round-about approach which resulted in record low casualties for the sim exercise.

The next day he handed in a complaint against himself about incompetence, excessive caution, and an evaluation about how taking that fucking long would have resulted in a campaign that was far too high in cost, time, and resources.

The instructor quit bitching after that.

Alpha 17 started his ARC training as the youngest in his class. ARC trooper Alpha 17 went into his cryo stint as top graduate of his class, having already had a successful and noteworthy acclimation stint all around the mid- to outer-rim.

*****

Three years after his thaw, Alpha 17 returned from a mission totally-not-exploding some wildly unpleasant slavers’ headquarters to find the usual stack of correspondence waiting for him. He kept his holo-mail down to a screaming minimum as much as possible, because everyone and their classified dog preferred to send secured intel via datapads or datasticks or whatever data-things they could secure to biometrics and ident scans. He grabbed the box for incoming shit and hauled it off to his quarters, because it’d been almost four months away and even he would admit to needing a real godsdamned shower in his own fucking apartment.

He might’ve ignored the pile long enough for a decent meal from the commissary and a few hours of rack time out of sheer spite. When 17 finally sat down to sort it, he wasn’t too surprised that almost a quarter of the pads had the glossy red endcaps indicating highest priority. It took a second glance to register that one of those had further detailing, the Jedi Order’s symbol embossed on the center of the red caps.

That was different. 17 set down the two pads he’d grabbed at random to pick it up instead. The metal shell wasn’t new, but it held few of the dings and scratches any correspondence gained traveling through the courier system. Recently made or rarely used.

“The hell?” he muttered, powering it up. Official Order business of some sort, but what kind of mission could –

17’s brain stalled out as he finally read the simple, clear message.

Simple, clear, and about as unlikely as him sprouting wings and flying to Corellia without a ship. “Potential host.” Nope, sounded even crazier out loud. “Like hell.” He tossed the pad down and slumped back in his chair, staring at the datapad in confusion. How the fuck was he a potential host? What kind of Jedi could he possibly have a match with?

In some kind of vain hope that the message would change to something that made sense given enough time, 17 mechanically went through the rest of his mail. Several innocuous messages regarding hazard pay; five potential missions, two of which had a time window long past; one message rescinding one of the other potential missions; one airworthiness directive and recall about a jetpack model he hated anyways; somehow even more questions about his deposition for the fucking Cato Neimoidia cluster because lawyers were never truly done.

All the usual bullshit, really.

Didn’t change the potential host message, though.

*****

Alpha 17 answered the call, of course. He sent a reply message off, confirmed the trip to Coruscant via the usual GAR channels, and then he tried to lose himself in post-mission paperwork.

It didn’t help that if anything was less likely to occupy his attention, it was paperwork. Even the usual joys of finding new and ridiculous euphemisms for ‘killed a bunch of assholes’ and ‘blew up a lot of shit’ were empty and useless.

The question of what kind of Jedi could possibly consider him a match dogged him all the way to Coruscant, and only got worse when he walked into the changing room with the other two candidates. One was a quiet, well-dressed Zeltron who was the most unassuming being 17 had ever laid eyes on. Short red hair, heading towards middle-age, and 100% unremarkable – he wouldn’t call them “bland,” but he wouldn’t argue the point if someone else did. The other one was an older Wookiee who sauntered in with all the trappings of an AgriCorp member, cheerfully growling observations about everything with an air of nervous excitement.

Sure, he knew the matching was probably on different quadrants, but what the hells could he have in common with these two?

The Jedi deposited on the fourth side of the table was a bit on the small side – maybe fully grown, maybe just younger but with their mature coloring. It was hard to tell with Jedi, even for someone who was good at that kind of thing.

That was not in 17’s skillset.

It was no help whatsoever that the Jedi turned towards 17 first. He felt ridiculous, stretching out his hand like he was inviting someone’s pet to take a whiff, but somehow this was worse than in training. Training meant everyone had to be there, and was going through the motions, but this –

This was the real deal. What the fuck was 17 doing, really applying to be a host?

The Jedi curled around his wrist, warmer than expected. He could feel the faint buzz in his mind of the Jedi’s mental probe – nothing that could be strong enough to read actual thoughts, but enough to give them a decent impression of 17. He had to stifle down a snicker, imagining what it might be like to feel his mind. I like fighting, blowing shit up, and doing my job. Sorry to waste your time, Jedi.

The pulse of amusement – real, and not his – was a bucket of ice down his spine. Shit. Shiiiit, he hoped that hadn’t been somehow broadcast. It probably hadn’t, but that was awkward. Meanwhile, the Jedi let out a quiet hiss, sharing some kind of emotional nudge to pass them along.

It was hard not rubbing at his wrist where the Jedi had been as the other two host-potentials went through the ritual. 17 was sure that some of the discomfort was due to being out of armor, but a quiet part of him wondered about the strange reaction anyways.

Hosting wasn’t a thing. He’d never given the faintest shit about hosting, he just wanted to be an ARC.

He was paying enough attention to do all the bowing and whatever that was called for, but it took the amused chuffing of a Wookiee to pull 17 all the way back to the matter at hand.

Literally at hand; the Jedi was back near his wrist, looking up at him with those four bright eyes and a body posture that might indicate concern.

Wait, WHAT? 17’s head jerked up, and he looked at the other two in the room. The Wookiee was grinning, while the Zeltron was hiding their amusement almost well enough that they just looked a little bored. He couldn’t help but feel that it was intentional that he could read the body language at all. 17 looked back down at the Jedi, who weh-ed at him.

“What are you doing?” 17 asked right back, because there was no way this could be happening. The Jedi scooted a little closer to him, making another hissing noise. With the continued sensation that this could not really be happening, 17 held his hand out to the Jedi.

They sauntered right onto his palm, still giving him that look. Another glance at the other host-potentials confirmed the impossible, but 17 was still slow enough lifting the Jedi that there was plenty of time for someone to declare that this was some ridiculous mistake, or prank, or something.

Nobody said anything as 17 opened his mouth and let the Jedi in. There was that feeling of movement that wasn’t (except it really was), then there was a new voice in 17’s mind.

#Hello there,# the Jedi declared. They sounded male, young, good natured. Not at all like what 17 would have expected. #I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi.#

#Well that’s a mouthful,# 17 couldn’t help but think, bemused and not quite sure what the hell was going on.

There was a sound of muffled laughter, accompanied by something not-really-a-flash to how that was a pun given how the Jedi – Kenobi – had just entered. #From a certain perspective, yes.#

17 smirked, enjoying the feel of a fellow sapient in spite of himself. #Alpha 17. ARC-17017.#

*****

It was always easy to tell the difference between Qui-Gon and Tahl. She moved with thoughtful purpose, feet planted solid on the ground and shoulders aggressively square. Jinn flowed more, confident and feline, certain of himself in a sometimes arrogant way that could piss off even the most serene being, let alone Alpha 17.

He liked and respected them both, more than he or Obi-Wan figured most people understood. He hadn’t expected that, when he’d first met the Jedi and host that were to be Obi-Wan’s – and his, in a sense – primary trainers. He’d resented that at first, not that he’d admit it. He was no youngling, for all that Obi-Wan was a shiny. Obi-Wan also had inherited memories, and since 17 was a well-trained and skilled soldier, they should be good to go in short order.

Then they had their first training session with Obi-Wan’s brand new lightsaber.

The less said about that fiasco, the better.

It took time to learn how everything fit together; 17’s blaster and fighting skills, Obi-Wan’s genuine talent for the lightsaber and acrobatics that thanks to the Force were well outside the normal bounds for a clone, and how the Force integrated with it all.

The first time 17 dodged away from a sparring partner only to reach and yank their legs out from under them, dumping them to the floor several meters away, he’d been stunned. It was one thing to know Jedi – and thus their hosts – could use the Force, it was totally another to see it in action, and it was a far different beast to do that impossibility himself.

He liked it, though. It was interesting to find there was a whole new area and styles of fighting he could apply himself to, and as always he did so with excessive diligence.

With the comforting glee inside his head of a Jedi just as eager to learn, and to fight, he no longer questioned why the hell he’d been the one to host Obi-Wan.

~end section

[angstyaches]

Meet Shayne and Charlie

So, this is my first post with my shiny new OCs, Shayne (a demon eater) and Charlie (a half-demon). I’m still developing my world, but feel free to message me with suggestions/questions/prompts. 

Mild emeto warning!

Swallow the World, Prologue: Part.1

“Hey. Hey, Shayne?”

I looked up from my desk, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. The new kid, Charlie, was leaning on the edge of his desk, his head propped by the heel of his hand. I hadn’t even noticed class had come to an end. The geometry lesson and the heavy ache in my belly had put me right to sleep, considering I’d gotten so little the night before.

“What?” I growled.

“Are you okay?”

I lifted my hand from my stomach, reckoning he’d seen me holding it during class. I used to get away with nursing stomach aches like that, because ever since Lucy had taken off, nobody had taken any notice of me. Those days seemed to be over, and I realised I hadn’t basked enough in the bliss of invisibility.

“I’m fine.” That was what people said, right? When they wanted the attention on them to go away?

“You don’t look fine. Are you sick again?”

I felt my face flush. I’d missed a day of school at the start of the week. This guy didn’t miss a beat, did he?

“No,” I mumbled. “It’s just a stomach ache. I get them all the time, they’re just –”

I caught myself, shaking my head. This was none of his business, and even if it had been, it was too boring to make conversation with. Especially when I didn’t want to be making conversation at all.

Especially especially when I didn’t want to be talking to this random, if slightly overbearing, guy about the fact I attended co-ed public school by day, and swallowed demons whole by night.

“Stress-related, maybe,” he said.

I tried not to glare at him, though my resolve broke down, and I let my cheek rest on top of books. My hand trailed back over my stomach, gently trying to quell the writhing movements inside.

“I’ll come wait with you at the office, if you want to call your parents.”

I shook my head, letting Charlie’s assumption that I had parents just wash over me. It was easy, after spending so long around these people.

“Mum won’t believe me,” I mumbled, almost choking on the word. “Lately, unless I’ve got a fever or I’m throwing up, she thinks I’m faking.”

I couldn’t believe how many words had fallen out of my mouth. The boy was looking a little sympathetic now, as if what I’d said made perfect sense. He drummed his fingers on his arm.

“I’ve got a tonne of paracetamol in my bag, if you think it would help with the pain.”

I awkwardly met his gaze, though when I tried to find anything to say back to him, my throat closed over. Human medicine had never occurred to me before, even though I’d seen people – particularly girls – sucking them down like candy. He seemed to read what I was thinking, because he started reaching for his bag.

“Two?” he asked.

I nodded and lifted my head, despite the heat gathering around my face. He produced a blister pack, and leaned across to push two tablets into my hand. I swallowed them with a mouthful of water from my bottle.

“Thank you,” I mumbled.

“You’re welcome.” He smiled as he zipped up his bag and pushed it back under his desk. “But you should probably go to a doctor. Get checked for an ulcer or something.”

I hummed in agreement, even though going to a human doctor would be as useful as asking a common pigeon for help. Nothing was physically wrong with me, so nothing existed for doctors to find.

“Or, you know, you could talk about whatever’s bothering you,” Charlie shrugged. “With your family, or – or, like, a friend.”

I laughed as I put my head back down. “I’d need to have friends for that.”

He made a low sound, and my stomach turned over, this time with guilt. I folded my arms against it, resisting the urge to curse under my breath. Why was I feeling bad for this guy? He’d done nothing but cause me headaches since he’d arrived. What had it even been; two months? Hadn’t he made friends with anybody else in that time?

“This is me – kind of – asking you if you want to hang out sometime,” he said, scratching at his head. “I think. I mean, that’s what I was going for.”

I tightened my arms over my aching stomach, a crawling sensation in the back of my throat. I noted the feeling, and tried to box it away. I was definitely not in the mood for this.

“Look, I mean – ” He gave a slow shrug. “You’re clearly going through something. Honestly, I’ve been having a shit time too. Maybe it’d suck a bit less if we were going through our stuff together. I don’t know.”

I frowned and lifted my head up again, my eyes devouring every inch of him now. Shit. My heart dropped at the tinge of grey that slid along his skin, right where he’d been scratching at the side of his neck.

“What?” he asked, his eyes widening. He was starting to look as pissed off as I’d felt moments before. “Look, I’m – I’m sorry I got a little intense, but it’s nothing like that. I know I give off a certain vibe, but I don’t –”

“What house did you move into?” I demanded.

He blinked, leaning back in his seat as though to put some extra space between us. “Uh, it’s on Mulberry. Not far from the golf course.”

“Number 68?”

“Yeah.” Charlie frowned. “How’d you know that?”

That crawling feeling made itself known at the back of my throat again, tickling at my tongue. My mouth felt far too wet, and all I could say was “Shit.”

“Shit?” he squeaked. “What? Did someone die there or something?”

“Or something,” I muttered. My chest felt like it was going to collapse as I started to get up from my desk. My legs felt like they were made of water vapours.

 He found me retching the remnants of breakfast over a sink in the boys’ bathroom, and I wanted to break the mirror when his reflection came into view. His hair was a deep shade of gold, and his skin was like porcelain. I should have seen it sooner. He was far too good-looking to be in a place like this. He glistened with the same energy that was behind classical music. I’d let his kind advances towards me to render me clueless, vulnerable.

And now he was going to kill me, and my guts were aching far too much for me to do anything about it.

“You’re going to be late for class,” I spat, ducking my head and clenching my teeth against a powerful cramp, “demon.”

“Demon?” he chuckled.

I winced as I looked up again. He was standing next to me, holding out a paper towel to wipe my face with. I despised my hands for trembling as I reached out and took it.

“What are you talking about?”

I met his blue-eyed gaze in the mirror. He was genuinely confused, probably wondering if I had a fever and was hallucinating. The grey tinge around his neck was barely visible anymore, and I suddenly wasn’t feeling too harsh with myself for letting him sit under my nose for so long. I’d never heard of a demon who could blend so seamlessly into society, let alone a school.

Unless he had no idea himself.

My insides twisted, deep down where I expected my most recent encounter was about to rip through the fabric of existence and vanish. I ducked my head again, letting out a low groan, as though nothing of the sort was happening.

“Hey, you’re okay.”

The hand that rested on my shoulder was gentle, yet firm. It sent shivers over my skin, made my muscles clench even harder than they already were.

“At least your mum might believe you’re sick now.”

I sighed weakly. “Always with the silver linings, huh?”

“Always,” he agreed, flashing a smile. “What do you think? Calling home sick?”

I rinsed my mouth out at the sink, wishing my hands would stop shaking. Actually, I mainly wished he wasn’t there, seeing them shake. I wished he wasn’t there at all.

“Nah, I’m not sick,” I mumbled, though my voice was thick with nausea and he probably noticed. “Just – like you said. I’m - I’m going through a thing.”

[gothfoxx]

Miraculous Ladybug, Male! Marinette x Lila, They were partnered up with in a project but they hated each other. They have settled their differences or they would fail the project.

(I’m using @virgil-is-a-cutie ‘s male!Marinette name for this)

When Ms Bustier said they would do the project in pairs Marin could feel the eyes of everyone in class glance hungrily in his direction. There was sure to be a fight for an easy grade. “Partners will be assigned at the end of the lesson so please pay attention!” The teacher informed them. ‘Ha!’ Marin thought as all the greedy vultures groaned and moaned about their lost meal ticket.

“That leaves Alya and Juleka as the last girl team and Lila and Marin as our last co Ed team!” Ms Bustier said way too cheerfully for someone that just sent a guy down the river. “Remember I want to see effort from both of you in your project for this lesson, think of it as your idea child. Raise it together with love and care!” The woman added a happy little half clap to emphasize her giddiness at the prospect.

Marin held back an eye roll that he was sure several other students could share. At least it was a subject he liked so if he had to do all the work he wouldn’t be struggling. The plopping down of a bag jars the bluenett out of his musings huh Alya left already and when he looks up he sees his nightmare hasn’t ended yet, “Hey~ Marin. So I guess we’re working together huh?” Lila asks feigning innocence and dripping artificial sweetness. When he doesn’t address her right away she tilts her head and pouts, if he didn’t know it was all an act he might have been swayed into being sorry.

He heaved a sigh to rivial a tiny god’s and puts on his ‘customer service’ smile, “Guess so. So do you have an idea for what we should do? I’m all ears!” Might as well jump to it and prepare for the worst. She surprises him by pulling out a piece of paper with some sloppy writing on it. “I might have one idea.” She beams, ew she can fake that too is that healthy?. “Oh cool.” Came his less than enthusiastic reply as he tried to read the paper, “So what IS the idea?” He finally asks after getting nowhere trying to read from the paper. Lila grinned and this time if was the kind her was used to, the sly cruel smile of a Predator on the hunt.

“I’m glad you ask Marin! It just so happens that my grandpapa’s work involved research of this area. We have some of his old journals at home. We practically have this done!” She boasted, and for a lie this one seemed rather...dumb to say the least. How was she going to get out of something so plainly’put up or shut up’? “So I guess we’re doing it at your place?” He remarks as he looks back at his notes for the list of suggested topics. A sound like a strangled cat catches his attention back to the brunette, she was red in the face and sputtering, “excuse me? Come again?” She wheezes between two steadying breaths. He’s confused at to what set her off but he repeats himself, “Are we doing the project at your house? Where the journals are?” And by golly she goes from looking mad to being embarrassed. “Oh, sure” comes the oddly soft response.

After school Marin texted his parents that he’d be home for dinner and prayed that if this was some kind of murder plot that they would at least start the search for his body quickly. The awkward silence dragged on until it got to be too much for the boy so he asks, “So what did your grandpa do?” After a few steps Lila answers with a grand sweep of her hand towards a front door. “You’ll just have to see, welcome to the Castello Rossi!” For all the grand showmanship it’s a very plain looking house, well kept but plain. “How nice, I like your plants.” Marin comments trying to be civil since they still have work to do.

As Lila opens the door with another grand gesture Marin is shocked to see how empty and impersonal it feels. Most of the front room looks unlived in with just two picture frames sitting on the mantle. “Mama won’t be home till later so let’s go to the office and get as much done as we can.” She states, beckoning him to follow. The office is a stark contrast to the room earlier, stacks of important looking paper tower on the dark wooden desk, Knick-nacks and books fill the shelves, and family phones are scattered along the walls. While Marin is taking it all in Lila goes to a shelf in the corner and pulls out two worn out sketch books.

As it turns out Lila’s grandpa was part of a team of anthropologists that studied post World War I art and his books were a mix of notes on the how the war changed how the art had changed and sketches of people he had interviewed. It was all so fascinating and emotional. Marcelo Rossi had a way with words, Marin felt like he could hear the man’s voice narrate as he read entry after entry. They easily got most of their project done, the impact of WWI in everyday life, all they needed was a second source and they would be finished. All in all it was a not horrible experience, maybe if Lila could shape up they could really be friends like everyone wanted.

Ending 1: not so bad

Marin was surprised that in the week and a half that they had been working together to discover the Rossi family were well known in nitch circles of the anthropology and archaeological sciences. He had seen a picture of her great aunt recording the dying language of the Tihan people of Tiahana, gotten to read the musings of the eccentric late great-great-uncle Sal who studied prehistoric plants. They were amazing people who changed their fields, it was a wonder Lila depended on lies to get attention. When the day of the presentation came up Marin was excited to share what they had written, Lila even brought scans of the sketch books to pass around. Everyone else’s reports were pretty standard in comparison so when it was their turn they knocked it out of the park!

After class Marin walked out with Lila like he had done everyday for a week when to realized that he didn’t need to follow her anymore. It caught him off guard at how sad that made him, he liked seeing the real Lila under all the lies and faux confidence. Did they really have to pop their little bubble just because they didn’t share a goal anymore? “Aren’t you coming?” Lila asked tugging on Marin’s sleeve, “We need to celebrate, that report was definitely an A. We deserve a treat!” She declares, dragging the less than reluctant boy along with her. They announced their relationship a few days later to the cheers of the class.

Ending 2: how did it end up like this

Marin had gotten to know the real Lila over the week and a half they worked together. He had really gotten through to her as he assured her that what her family did was interesting and there was no need to hide behind her web of lie. She agreed to come clean to the class with Marin to vouch for her after the project. He was really proud of her and was planning on asking her to lunch together later that day.

Strangely when they walked in that morning in prep for the report Marin felt the burning feeling of eyes boring into the back of his head. Ms Bustier met them at the bottom of the steps, “Lila is it really a good idea for you to come in today with everything that you’ve done?” The teacher inquired with a grit of her teeth. A murmur rippled through the room as Marin realized the glares weren’t aimed at his mmm for a change. Lila paled and looked around the class before focusing back on Ms Bustier, “What’s going on? What do you mean by what ‘I’ve done’?” The brunette asks a bit nervously.

It was Alya that stood up and pointed an accusing finger at Lila. “You lied about everything, you made me think you were going to help me with my career! You just strung us along like puppets!” She roared, Juleka had to hold the journalist back from rush the Italian. “Alya sit down! I will handle this!” Barked Ms Bustier, looking very run down and already very tired for the time of day. If Marin though Lila was pale before then she looked ghostly now, her eyes looked huge on her face as she looked at the struggling Alya. “As you can see. It would be best if you spent the day with the principal. Your mother should be here soon” the teacher growled.

Just then Juleka lost her grip and Alya rushed forward making Lila bolt out the door. Marin braced his body, the same way he did when Manon tries to escape to cling to her mom, and grabbed Alya around the middle and kept her from chasing his friend. “Why are you stopping me! She lied, you know she lied!” Raved the girl trying to wrestle her way out of his grip. “She played us!” She snarled. “She played you like the cheap kazoo you are!” Marin responded in kind. “I told you before it was a problem that she was lying but none of you would hear me out, you asked for proof, you called me envious! But it’s now that I like her and she promised to come clean that you choose to see the truth!? Fuck you guys!” He yells, dropping Alya on her ass and running after Lila.

He finds her crying in the hall that leads to the principal’s office. Her eyes are red and puffy, it breaks his heart to see her scrubbing her face in an effort to make the tears stop. Kneeling down next to her Matin holds his arm out so she can curl up into his side. “Don’t worry about them. They never knew the real you. After all the talk they spout about friendship and loyalty and giving chances they never even tried to get to know who was under all the celebrity stories. They all dropped you without asking questions or giving you a chance. So don’t worry about them. You have me.” He promises, rubbing her back soothingly. They wait there a long time before Mrs Rossi arrives, Marin stays for the meeting holding Lila’s hand through the whole ordeal. With compromises on both sides Lila is allowed to stay in the school but she will be switching classes and seeing a councilor. After Marin walks Lila and her mom back to their car, it might not be the best time but he’s not sure when he’ll get the chance again, “Once you’re not grounded anymore will you go out for coffee with me? Or a movie, I don’t even know if you like coffee.” He rambles get stopped in their tracks when Lila leans over and places a peck on his cheek. “I’d love to” she smiles, eyes still a bit wet, before having to close the car door and drive away.

[grisdidthis]

CHAPTER ONE: FIRST SIGHT

AKA, blessed fucknuggets, why do these fools feel the need to put themselves through high school, my sources tell me that the US school system isn’t all that to begin with, what gives?

PREVIOUS ENTRIES

(Warning: this got long. Looooong. Hence, cut, so that I don’t murder your dash like Edward doesn’t murder Bella in this chapter.)

Welcome to the first entry of a live-read that no one asked for, in which I’ll go through the first chapter of Midnight Sun, i.e. a retelling of the first Twilight book from Edward Cullen’s POV. Not to be confused with Grey, a retelling of the first volume of a Twilight fanfic with the serial numbers filed off, or the Life and Death edition, a retelling of the first Twilight book in which Bella Swan is genderbent into a dude called Beau, who utters the immortal line “I knew I must look like a gorilla on a greyhound.” Which still tickles my humerus to this day.

I’ve waited for this novel to drop so long that at some point I’d stopped waiting. If by some freaky turn of chance you stumbled on this without knowing about the hoopla surrounding the publication, here’s a Wikipedia link. The gist is that the first few chapters of the WIP got leaked, the author got upset, the book got shelved until ??? and no further information about it was forthcoming until a while ago, when out of the blue arrive the news that it’s getting released in August.

My first thought was “Oh, yay, something actually NICE is happening this year!”

My second thought was “Please let it be good, so that I can laugh outrageously at [name redacted] for mocking my enjoyment of this series!” And. Look. I know what’s said about Twilight with regards to its literary merit and Stephenie Meyer’s abilities as a writer. A lot of it is admittedly accurate. However, the metrics by which I measure the value of a book are a) did it entertain me? and b) did I gain anything by having read it? And yeah, those are personal and subjective items, but objectivity is a lie, Jesus enjoys using toasters to take selfies, and if ten years ago I hadn’t been looking for a place to post my 50k+ epic Renesmee-centric fanfic, I wouldn’t have met the people who are currently my best friends.

Which is to say: I’m too attached to this series to give a fig what color the prose is. Deal.

And yet. Me hoping that Midnight Sun would be good, in a way that people who don’t have my level of emotional investment might acknowledge, wasn’t… that farfetched?  Because the last book Meyer released before this one, The Chemist? Is an improvement on all her previous work. A huge improvement! It’s competently written! The characters read like they were intended to be flawed, messy people.

The main romance isn’t the kind of fucked up that Bella and Edward’s is, where you can pen treatises on why they’re omg so unhealthy. It’s the kind of fucked up where five seconds after meeting her love interest, the protagonist drugs him unconscious, kidnaps him, sticks a urinary catheter up his ding dong, straps him to a table and tortures him for information until the guy’s ex-CIA identical twin drops a plane on the barn they’re in and crashes through the ceiling all “HANDS OFF MY BABY BROTHER YOU DISCOUNT MATA HARI!”

Then they all make friends and go on a road trip together because a shady government organization is after them.

That’s not a fucked-up relationship that you write an essay analyzing the fucked-up-ness of. It’s something you stare at, stunned and, if you’re me, torn between thinking “Holy shit, this is so my brand of heroine!!!” and “How much crack was Auntie Steph on when she wrote this?” And it’s beautiful. I want ten more like it. So my hopes for Midnight Sun are tempered by the knowledge that, being a retelling of an established narrative, it can’t go all-out with the batshit. But I’m still optimistic that some part of it will give me that warm “Awww, you’ve come a long way from where we first met, author! Good on you!” feeling.

Now let’s (finally!) get started on the chapter proper.

…oh wait there’s an author’s note.

…uhm. Yeah. My dreams. About those. *fixed stare at faraway bonfire* Actually, let’s not talk about those and just move on to Edward Not Liking High School, thank you. Yeah. That’s good.

Edward Cullen doesn’t like high school. Edward doesn’t like that people think. Edward doesn’t like that the human student body is beside itself with the arrival of some new chick. Edward thinks his adopted siblings are super basic. (Rosalie = shallow, Emmett = simple, Jasper = psycho two seconds away from jumping off his chair and going on a rampage.) We don’t get to hear his utterly unbiased assessment of Alice, because she butts in and starts a one-sided telepathic convo about how Jasper is two seconds away from jumping off his chair and going on a rampage. You know. Normal sibling stuff.

WHY DO YOU PUT YOURSELF THROUGH THIS HASSLE, WHY!

(Let me take this opportunity to share my pet crack theory that Carlisle Cullen is secretly the most twisted, evil vampire in all of vampiredom, and that the sending the young ones to high school bit is something he does solely because he gets his evil fix by feasting on the emotional toil it inflicts on them. Also why he’s a doctor; he can ignore the call of blood, because being surrounded by the pain of patients and their loved ones already keeps him fed. I mean. He was chilling with the Volturi way back when, and Aro gives off a handsy vibe. No way he didn’t get his mind read in every which way, and if that happened - if he were reaaaalllyyyyy that nice, why would he still ping them as a threat of any kind?)

(This has holes in it, I know. And clashes with my other pet crack theory, which posits that the whole immortal child/Let’s Catch Them All: Cullen Edition was in fact the fallout of a Very Bad Italian Breakup, with Aro being the pissy ex who wants sole custody of the kids.)

Whatever. It still makes more sense than them going through “the inert state between active periods” when. My dudes! College is right there. Some places you can even sit out 90% of lectures and still get your diploma if you don’t feel like faking one, so Jasper would be all set! And you can pick different subjects! Diversify! Why must it always be med school rehashes, there are other worthy professions! And whole fields that are useless for getting-a-job purposes, but still interesting and enriching for those who have the luxury to pursue them. Let Emmett do Viking Studies, for fuck’s sake!

This amuses me much more than it rightfully should. I’m a child.

The Cullen clan tries to pep talk Jasper into not getting his murder on. Jasper is like OMG WILL YOU GUYS LAY OFF, while Edward is busy doing his judgy Edward thing and thinking to himself that Jasper should accept his limitations, that it’s a bad idea to have him at school at all, blah blah bleh, and you know what, I’m with you there, Ed.

Although we all know that this is just setup for the irony that will ensue as soon as Bella the Delicious klutzes her way into his line of smell.

Oh yah! Enter Bella. Edward can’t hear her thoughts. Jessica Stanley is a b-word. Edward wonders whether not being able to butt into the new girl’s head may be a red flag for vampire Alzheimer. Biology class next! The teacher is a man “of no more than average intellect” and, lord. It’s lucky that Edward is the mind reader in the family, because imagine if it were one of the others and they had to put up with listening to him bitch about the world at large, nonstop, at all hours of the day. And night, since these guys don’t sleep. Angela Webber is the only soul in the whole school whose thoughts have the Edward Cullen seal of approval. I feel sorry for her. I also feel this weird sense of hey, this all seems familiar in senses other than being a retelling, have I been here before?

Wait.

WAAAIIIIIITEEEEE.

*googles for the old version*

*runs first chapters through copyleaks*

*kubrick stare* MEYER, YOU LAZY SO AND SO, HOW COULD YOU!

*slams head on desk*

Well. At least I know what I’m in for. HONESTLY! It’s been. It’s been THIS MANY YEARS since the leaked version appeared, and that was a first draft, how in the… she’s way better than this, now! Was this novel produced in a terminal state of $#%CARING#NOT?&FOUND?! Is half of it just going to be the same old thing with a thin veneer of polish? I’m.

*sigh* You know what, I’m okay. We’re just going to call this first part a re-read. It’s been ten years, so I remember not a whole lot of the specifics, so at least I won’t be bored. BUT COME CHAPTER 13 I EXPECT TO BE SWEPT OFF MY FEET, DO YOU HEAR ME?!

Biology. Bella walks in right past a fan and gives Edward a throbbing throat boner. How awkward. Then she goes and sits right next to him and saucily tosses her hair around like he’s not actively plotting her murder and that of the rest of the class. The cheek of the thing!

Fortunately, Bella’s tasty ass is momentarily saved by a stiff breeze.

…I think we may have found the solution to Jasper’s control issues. The Cullens just need to start carrying air freshener around and spray the murder out of him every time he starts looking peckish. It would look weird if anyone else did it, but since they’re all pretty and rich, it’s more likely that the trend will catch on and cause Febreze sales to skyrocket.

Anyway. We’re not done victim-blaming Bella for…

…at least another couple of pages, but at least Edward gets his head out of his ass long enough to recall that hey, vampire! Oxygen is optional! But he still spends another lot of words grumbling about what a hassle it is to be forced to hold his breath in order to dampen his murderous urges. This is why you are a virgin, Edward. No, I don’t mean the planning the assassination a classmate’s assassination, plenty of serial killers still manage to get laid heaps, consensually, even! It’s the fact that you’re this much of a buzzkill that’s the issue.

Live, laugh, love, you dumbass disco ball!

Yep, he’s still on about how he’s going to kill her, totes kill her, he feral dangerous vampire, rawr. The miracle of adequate indoor airflow only got him to railroad a quartet of brain cells into thinking up smarter ways of snuffing Bella out. Now he wants to lure her to the forest. No, he’s going to kill her at home! He hates her! No, he hates himself and is projecting!

So he flees to his car, plays some calming music, breathes in and out and thinks about his family and how disappointed they’d be in him if he were to help himself to a Swan shake. Well, I’m nobody to shit talk anyone’s self-soothing routine. I’d probably throw in a truck of food + a bath, but he’s had 100+ years to figure out what coping mechanisms work for him, so let’s just let him do his-

Edward.

EDWARD.

…do you actually think this is an appropriate time to start a ginger-off with some random desk lady? Yes, we know you’re the One True Redhead To Rule Them All. (Though Kvothe from Name of the Wind may beg to differ, and I don’t know who would win that fight.) I mean, really? You pull this crap when you just barely talked yourself out of a murder? And then you call her eyes flat! What!

One of my favorite comic book series, Y the Last Man, features a scene where two characters discuss what it is that truly binds people together. One of them presents the argument that stronger bonds are formed not by shared love, but by shared hates. By which they mean not a kiss-kiss-slap-slap, enemies-to-lovers relationship dynamic, but like… you, being someone who really hates coleslaw, having a partner who likewise hates coleslaw, with whom you can indulge in tireless verbal roastings of coleslaw and who will never get tired of your complaining, because the fire of their loathing burns every bit as hot as yours.

I’ve always felt that this concept resonated with me deeply. And if you apply it to Bella and Edward, by its standards, they have the real deal. Go through the namesake chapter in Twilight-the-book, and you find Bella thinking similarly judgy thoughts, being irked by the same shit that no one normal would bat an eye to, going “Ugh!” and “Gah!” at everything that makes Edward wince internally. So their love will be eternal for sure. Perhaps not in an epic way. They’ll live boringly ever after, until they’re ancient and onion-skinned and lurking at passerby humans through the geraniums on their windowsill, exchanging “Holy crow, I can’t believe she bought a hydrogen engine car just to show off!” / “Awful! She should know that thinning the deer population so that they produce less flatulence is the most sound way of controlling toxic emissions!” And then probably gazing at one another like idiots for an ice age or two.

Edward wants to be moved out of Biology class. Goes back and forth with the desk lady, who obviously wants to tap that, because of course she does. Every hot-blooded woman within spitting distance must crave his alluring icicle, even as he mentally eviscerates every minuscule detail of their appearance.

Except Bella, because she’s soft, translucent, deep-eyed and edible. And, I mean. You can complain all you want about “you’re different from anyone else I’ve ever met, you’re SPECIAL, better, more beautiful, more everything!” being a dead horse of a trope so old and beaten that by all rights it should have turned to smelly glue, but. That pony is still kicking. And by kicking, I mean selling. And it sells because being made to feel special, even if it’s happening by proxy while you’re immersed into the thoughts of a fictional character, is nice. Readers enjoying that experience and seeking out fiction that provides it shouldn’t be considered so… mock-worthy as I’ve seen it be, in discussion of works that feature the trope prominently.

Which doesn’t mean that it wouldn’t be nicer if Edward’s narration were focused solely on elevating Bella, instead of also viciously kicking down everyone in the vicinity. Man, we get the message, okay? You don’t need to act like you’ve swallowed a Simon Cowell before coming in for school.

I swear, it’s almost a relief when Bella interrupts, heralding the triumphant return of the throat boner. Edward’s thoughts about the people around him are actually LESS gratuitously bitchy when he’s contemplating how to best murder them.

At least this time he is able to extract himself from the situation and flee speedily. (Which… in Biology, what exactly was preventing him from asking for a bathroom break? Or just saying he was feeling poorly and getting the fuck out of there?)

He meets the sibs. Only Alice has any clue of what is going on because visions, and she doesn’t explain anything to the others, who just stand there baffled while Edward decides to get his shiny ass in his shiny Volvo and run off to Alaska. Probably because it would ruin the serious mood of the scene if she told them and Jasper started doing happy cartwheels at the prospect of no longer being the only fuckup in the family.

END CHAPTER. Same time tomorrow, hopefully, and I’ll TRY to be less longwinded. Try. 

[queenieroselove]

sprace story

Anthony felt like an idiot… this was going to be a difficult semester… and it was only his second semester. Last semester was difficult too. Would every semester be like this? Was  he really actually going to be able to handle college? Or should he drop out now? For now, he would drown his sorrows in his coffee… or not. He had an assignment to turn in in twenty minutes, even if he failed his first friday quiz of the semester.

He dutifully completed the assignment, with a few minutes to spare. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to an hour of algebra. What to do with his down time…. Rest.

Anthony laid his head down on the table, absentmindedly scribbling on a napkin. He had a habit of just scribbling and jotting thoughts down without thinking about it. Absentmindedly he left the written on napkin on the table before getting up and heading to class.

Sean was tired. That would be the least of it. Why in the hell had he taken a fucking english class at eight A.M.? He couldn’t have chosen something more boring, but it was on the list of gen ed courses required to graduate and he just wanted to get it over with. Coffee. That would help. He had two hours before his next class. And he enjoyed his routine of just spending those two hours in the campus coffee shop, working. He could start the outline of the paper Dr. Brenton spent an hour talking  about. He also needed to review his notes for the biology lecture and do his daily spanish. Sean wasn’t exactly the most book smark, but he needed to keep this scholarship, that meant work.

His usual table was open, and coffee in hand (black, medium roast) he got to work. He couldn’t help but sneer in disgust when he saw the last person left a napkin. Rude. The barista wasn’t paid enough to clean up after the rich snobs who came to school here. Then he noticed the writing. “Here lies my GPA - Official COD: College Algebra.” He scoffed, but it secretly made him laugh in his head. College Algebra was pretty easy for him, but he’d heard a lot of the people in his class were worried.

He couldn’t help himself as he left a note on a sticky note and taped it down. Maybe the person would be back later. Why  the hell not? “That class isn’t too bad if you study instead of leaving notes everywhere.” Alright, now it was time for him to work.

The next day Anthony returned to his table. This time with a friend, who promptly noticed the post it note taped to the table. “Hey, what’s this?” Albert wondered allowed, pulling the note up. “Someone leave you a note? Secret admirer.” He teased, raising his eyebrows when Anthony took the post it from his hand.

“None of your business, Al.” Anthony defensively said, even though it really seemed like nothing at this point, just some better than you remark from one of the stuck up upperclassman most likely. Just in case though, He crossed off the remark, and wrote a quick reply before taping it down again.

“So you think your smart? - A”

The next day there was a reply: “I know I’m smart - S”

The notes continued like that, back and forth every weekday for the next few weeks. Slowly they began getting more personal. Nothing to identify either boy, but smaller details, such as:

“Froo Froo drinks are for fools. Try coffee. - S”

“Bold of you to assume I am not a fool. Root beer runs through my veins and Caramel Frappes are my soul. I’ll sooner have a root canal then give up good drinks.- A”

“With all that sugar the root canal may be coming soon. - S”

Despite the generally serious nature of the notes, Anthony couldn’t help but imagine S as a secretly playful person. Someone to joke with back and forth on the matter but would still  sneak a frappe when no one’s looking. Anothony also began to wonder, who S actually was.

Sean wouldn’t admit it, but he was curious too. He wanted to know who A was, despite his friends snickers and jokes. The problem was… this was Sean’s final semester. His time was running short. He did have an idea that it was someone who left the coffee shop just before he got there. How else would the note be so reliable. Surely someone else would have thrown the paper away.  

He couldn’t ask his friends to watch for him though, that would lead to never-ending jokes. Sean would just have to skip class this week. He hadn’t missed this class yet this semester. He could reasonably miss one day.

That is why Sean found himself at a different table than usual, skipping his first class of the day. He had to admit it did feel good to not listen to a dull speech from an overpaid, overpraised professor. Sean tried to be discreet as he watched from across the room. Today, no one came to the table. Disappointment filled him as he left the shop. No more notes came after that. Sean couldn’t figure out what he had done to upset A, and his friends no longer found it a topic to joke about.

Anthony felt guilty. He truly did. He saw Sean sitting there, watching the table, he suspected, and everything fell into place. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Sean. Actually it was the opposite. Sean caught Anthony’s eye ages ago, but, he wasn’t the type of person Sean would like. He knew that, why bother going in to have his heart broken?

So he stopped. From then on he made do with the shitty coffee in the cafeteria. He studied in the library. “That is what it’s for, right?,” Anthony explained when Albert questioned him. “Besides, I’m running short on cash.” The coffee shop was generally the first luxury students were forced to give up when the cash ran low. No one would question it.

But then he felt regret on top of the guilt because what if he made a mistake and Sean was actual his fairy tale prince? So what if he wasn’t the type of guy Sean probably wanted, someone smart, handsome, stylish. They had been trading notes for weeks, and Sean had to tell he wasn’t that bright from the very start. So, Anthony decided to do something. He would be brave, he promised himself.

He was still telling himself that when he got dressed for coffee the next morning. Not just for coffee though. He decided to skip his usual sweat pants. Jeans would look better. And maybe not a ratty tshirt from some athletic event he attended over the years. He had collected some nicer clothes for job interviews, scholarship interviews, and things like that. He chose a plain blue sweater. Albert said it looked good on him in the store.

Anthony reminded himself to brave again as he walked across campus to the coffee house. He would stay late today, he promised himself, and if things went badly he could hurry off to class. Sean wouldn’t be there yet, but he was sure that Sean wouldn’t have stopped coming to the shop. Then he remembered he stopped going to the shop.

So that’s where Anthony stayed, looking up and around the shop every five minutes or so. He ordered a caramel frappe, his favorite, but he couldn’t seem to drink it. Or focus on the work infront of him.

After what felt like five nervous hours Sean finally came into the shop. He ordered his plain black coffee, and without even looking at the table Sean sat down across from Anthony tiredly. It only took him a second to realize he wasn’t alone, and when Sean did he quickly and politely apologized and got up.

“Wait!”Anthony quickly spoke up. “Don’t leave” Sean eyed him suspiciously and Anthony remembered Sean had no clue that he left the notes. “Those notes, they were from me.” Anthony admitted quieter.

Sean looked over him again, this time closer, as he sat down. This was him? He was an underclassman Sean had seen around before. Tall, lanky, hung out with some of the jocks and always seemed to have a joke to make instead of actually work. But… he had to admit when he was around Sean usually laughed at the jokes. Actually looking him over Sean decided the boy wasn’t bad looking.

“So,” Anthony started. “Sorry I quit leaving them. I saw you here one day when I was on my way in and figured you wouldn’t want anything to do with me. It wasn’t anything personal or nothing, just… sorta what was going through my head. You seemed smart in the notes. And, I’m not. Oh, sorry, my name is Anthony. Guess we never did get to that.”

“So you made the choice for me,” Sean probed further, seeing the nervous energy run through Anthony. Anthony shook his head, but Sean realized he can be intimidating, and probably was then. He reached out his hand to shake Anthony’s, which Anthony took. “I’m Sean…. If I said let’s get dinner tomorrow would you ghost me?” It wasn’t the best, but it was his attempt at a joke. He had been hit by another fleeting moment of why the hell not mentality.

Anthony actually laughed, although Sean wasn’t sure if it was out of politeness or because the joke was actually funny.

Sean did however, notice a note taped to the table then. With a quiet smirk he picked up the note and read the words “Dinner instead of coffee this time? - A” Sean laughed this time, holding up the note, “Guess we’re on the same thought process.”

Anthony, gaining courage back, promised himself to be brave one more time as he calmly took the letter from Sean’s hand and wrote on it once more: “Kiss me” . He passed it back to Sean, who raised an eyebrow and laughed as he got up and put on his coat. “Maybe if you show up tonight, lover boy. Six. Right here.”

Anthony, beet red merely shook his head in agreement. He had been brave. Perhaps it didn’t end with the kiss, but at least he got the boy.

i hope enjoyed this story. thank you to @ askmidtownnewsies  for helping me write it  i really appreciate it  thank you so much 

my giftee is for @ k-woodsies

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Ft. Lauderdale- tryst- part 5- a Halene fantasy!

So every time Helene posts a pic like this- it birthes fic- smutty smutty fic!!

 I have zero idea where this was taken- but it looks sunny- sooo- South Florida it is!

"What're you doing?"

The hula hoop dropped to the floor. She knew this was Harry's room. Would be where he set up his gypsy sanctuary for the day, but her hula hoop had wound up in here, lord knew how, and when she had found it, because somebody had seen it and thought it weird too, she'd noticed the light.

Helene figures that always noticing the light was an occupational hazard. It was really bright in here, lovely, and her hoop was here, and she just hadn't had time to practice in ages, tour was either really busy or entirely boring, and it flipped on a dime, she liked to be ready. But, in effect, she had not hooped or filmed it for her insta in forever. It would make a good addition to her story.

His room wasn't set up, and she thought she had heard a rumor that the boss man, big man, was volunteering or doing something with or for March for our Lives. She had the room to her self.

The movement is familiar and Helene finds that so many things are like riding a bike. Muscle memory turns on, and you go with the motion, and all the rust falls off and bam.

She took a few turns, found her rhythm and her sass and decided she needed a song to make it better.  The scan through her phone found her in the Harry section. Wild Thoughts would be perfect, Harry's version, with that riff to turn to off Mitch's guitar, but there was only the video. She couldn't film and listen to it. Maybe just as a warm up.

His voice, it made her warm all over. Her first poetical rabbit trail was that it was a warm bath. But that was way to relaxing of a comparison. Harry's voice did not relax her, though it did raise her temperature. Maybe that was a better comparisons. It was like a chemical reaction- exothermic. Like making caramel, he was sweet to taste.

Hearing his voice, asking her if she wanted to see him naked was like lighter fluid on the flame of her libido. He was incendiary.

It would make for quite the swivel in her hooping video. Too bad she could only listen and not film.

She had just settled for Shawn Mendez, Particular Taste, and cued up her set up, shook off Harry's deep, depth plumbing question, and found her rhythm when his real voice startled her enough to drop her groove.

Her hoop was weighted, so it didn't make a jingle, more of a thud when it hit the ground.

"What're you doing?" When she turned around he was just inside the door and he walked with a wide stride with a hand at the waist of, was that a towel?

Was he wearing a towel?

"What?" Her gaze hadn't made it to his face yet, she was never higher than his shoulder level, looking at him gave her a crick in her neck most times, and now she was starting from the floor and working her way up. Socks, the high white ones he wore when he worked out. And then his pigeon toed legs and his mole on his thigh. It was just below the hem of the towel, definitely a big towel, a thick one. His hand was at the knot, his fingers down over a suspicious bulge, but he often had one of those, he was a shower..

A grower too if the crystal clear memory she tried to dim wouldn't shut up. It hadn't been that long since, they slept together, but long enough. A couple continents at least. Lots of pictures, too many songs.

"Um, I was, well. The light was good and my hoop wound up in here. And I haven't done a video in a while. I'm rusty." She shrugged. "Sorry, I didn't think you would mind."

"I don't." He hit the t like he was singing it, clear with emphasis. "But I've just never seen you do it. It's really cool." He shook himself a little. "Can we look at the photos from the other night? Since i have your here all to myself."

Deadly dimples, damn.

"Yeah, hold on. I have to boot up."  Helene put her bag down and slipped her computer from its sheath, flipped open the lid. Was glad her habit was to upload everything while she was sleeping after a show. So she had something to show him. Helene felt a little shaky, like she'd been caught out, and ever since their....repeated whatever, She vibes off him. She was never sure if she was reading him for real. Like he was turned on by her or if it was just wishful thinking.

Just because smelling him was enough to ruin her panties didn't mean her effect was as strong on him. If it was, he would probably be sleeping with her more than once and occasionally again.

He must know her attentions were available always.

Helene focused on her iBook, and not how close he was standing to her. Harry had no concept of personal space. It drove her crazy, she loved it.

"last night." She looked over her shoulder at his over sized Head. This was a thing she had noticed about celebrities, their heads seemed oversized, literally. Sometimes, in the worst cases, figuratively, thankfully not with her current employer.

She wondered if it somehow looked better in film.

Harry was tapping at his favorite photos, transferring them to another folder, like she had taught him, wordlessly, and she was bent over to grab her cord.

She swore she could feel his eyes on the back of her legs. Gooseflesh rising up to meet the gaze.

When she looked back, her temperature was up, but his eyes were down, focused on her laptop and the photos. Her job. Why she was here. She wanted to shake herself. Those few nights with him had ruined her. It was one thing to want a taste, it was another to crave the flavor.

She sighed and he looked up.

"You alright?" He asked, a gentle smile.

She assumed this was the American question, not the British. "Qui. I just slept funny last night."

"Doesn't help we have vampire schedules on tour. Are you a morning person or night owl?" He had a lovely friendly smile too.

"I guess I'm more of a night owl. Unlike you, I think by the time I'm up and drinking matcha you have written, checked emails, run..." she rolled her eyes at his productivity, but you had to admire his work ethic. "What are you looking for?" He was rifling around.

"The cord, to get the ones I picked to my phone." He gestured at both phone and laptop and she nodded and got it for him. This time she more than felt his eyes.

He touched the back of her leg. Right beneath the hem of her skirt.

Helene looked over her shoulder at him.

He smirked at her, "you had some lint!" He lifted his hands up by his shoulders. The picture of innocence.

Except she knew better.

Damn him.

She gave him the cord and they flicked through the pictures together.

"Harry, can you give me just a little bit of space! I can feel your breath on my neck." It was so distracting. If he was gonna just tease.

"Sorry," his smile was audible, "I was just trying to see the background on that one, it's hard on the little screen. Hey! Did you notice we match!" God he was such a cute kid sometimes. They did coordinate.

"We do!" She smiled over her shoulder.

"Let's take a picture!" He glee-ed.

It turned out good. She'd keep that one for herself.

"That one picture, can I see it on your laptop again?" He asked, over her shoulder again.

"Yeah, let me," and she sat the computer down and opened his folder, checked the timing again. "Here."

This time, he stood right behind her. Put his hands on her hips to look over them. "I don't like that you can see my dirty clothes in that one, but it's a shame, I really like the picture." He started rocking her hips back and forth against him.

"Harry?"

"I really liked watching you hoop. Your hips move...." he rocked her a little wider. "Is it like this?"

Helene was about to swallow her tongue. "Um, no, that's too much, too big a motion." She contracted the circle, moved just like she would to keep the hoop aloft. "Then you just have to keep the rhythm." She could feel him through his towel, it was a towel, she didn't know if he had boxers on under it.

"Well, we know how well you can keep a rhythm." His mouth found the sliver of skin between her hoodie and hair. His hands were at her hips, under her skirt. Fingers between the cotton and her skin.

"Do I have more lint?" She was a little breathless, but could hear her own grin too.

"Haha!" He bit her jawline. "There was no lint." He caught her mouth and licked her bottom lip, and she felt her panties fall from her knees. "I just wanted to see your skin get all excited again." Then he really kissed her and Helene day down her phone and her laptop to get her hand into his hair over her shoulder.

"So, I heard a term the other day." He murmured between kisses, "a spinner." He lifted her hand and danced her to face him, held her to him, got his hands on her ass. Under her skirt. "Ever heard that?"

"Non," Helene leaned up on her toes to kiss him, save his neck, and felt for the knot on his towel. He did have boxers, she started working on getting those down. Filling up her hands with him. He was hard as a rock.

"It's a term for a petite woman, so small you can spin her on your cock. I couldn't help but think of you....." he groaned at the place she was biting on his neck.

"Yeah, me?" She smiled like his nameplace cat. "I am pretty small. Ughh!" His hands were on the low part of her ass cheeks now, fingers extended between her thighs. His long finger quickly slipped up to his second knuckle inside her. A second finger joined it before she had gotten used to the first.

"Can I try it?" Helene pulled back. Course he could try it, she liked all of the things he'd done to her. He rarely asked, once she'd consented, he went for things, took her places. What did he have in mind?

"Will it hurt?" She bit his lip a little.

"I don't think so, maybe me if I bend my dick wrong." They both laughed a little, that was one of those uncomfortable unsexy things that happened during a fuck. Like queefs.

"Sure, I might like it if it hurts just a little."

"Yeah, I like that about you." He leaned into kiss her and she screamed when he missed her mouth and removed his fingers and grabbed her hips quick to flip her upside down. It was disorienting for a second. A rush of blood to the head. She felt his tongue move through her now exposed folds a second later. It brought her back to reality. Though gravity was still suspended. "Put your thighs on my shoulders." Harry groaned, and when she bore some of her own weight, it was better. He kept licking her top to tail. She was moaning and the uncomfortable blood rush feeling disappeared. But not the rush. Helene could hear herself moaning. This was out of body. He sucked her clit in.

"Fuck!"

He shook his head with the folds of her in his mouth, brought them in against his teeth harder, released with a pop. "Helene, Suck my dick."

Oh, his hard length was bobbing in front of her. She just been really distracted, by being upside down, and his mouth full of her pussy. She licked the tip, the pearly liquid that had collected there. She was lucky it hadn't smeared on her forehead in this position. She may have laughed at that, if Harry's moan at Her follwojng his directions wasn't so encouraging.

She got her mouth around him and moved up and down, made her neck work. She braced one hand on his thigh, to steady herself. She was glad he was so strong and had his arms banded around her hips to keep her up.

This was hot, though she always found 69 very distracting. But Harry ate pussy better than any other lover she'd ever had. And before long, she was having to use her free hand to stroke over him, because she needed her mouth free. "Fuck, Harry, I'm gonna come."

It was the fingers that slid inside her at that moment that did it. She clenched down on the filling digits and he sucked harder until she was squirming. There was nowhere for her to go. He had her powerless in this position. She'd fall if she fought too hard to get the over stimulation to stop.

He didn't, stop, but he gentled his mouth, licked over where she was juicy while her thighs shook on his shoulders.

She grabbed his hips when he started walking. "Shit!"

"That worked." He sounded a bit stunned, she wondered if it was her weight or his erection. "Let's see if we can do the other thing I was thinking about. "Brace your arms out, Helene."

She did as he asked, and felt him rather than saw him sit on the edge of the couch. He picked her up then, at the waist and slid her down to his lower stomach. Helen caught the table in front of her when he brought her weight down.

"This is working nicely!" His voice had never been lower. "The view is....." she imagined he could see everything open and wet from her waist down. He moved her hips up and then her sodden place over his aching cock until she took up the rhythm. She could hear the condom wrapper and wondered where it had come from.

She decided she didn't care and only yelped a little when he used a hand to lift her hips up. "Help me."

She held his cock while he rolled down the sheath.

"There!" He groaned, and brought her hips back down, spread his hands out to open her. "Now, show me how you rock when you do that hooping bit again?"

"Did you like that?" It was more than obvious he did, she could feel the evidence, and hear his groan as she slid the first few inches of him into her. She was soaked, but it was never an easy fit, so she slid up to his tip and down again a couple of times to open herself up. The pop of his head and squish were musical accompaniment to the moans he was panting out.

"Yeah," he barely got the word out, and sucked in a breath before he spoke again. "think that's the first time I got hard over you" he rocked into her. "Was looking at your Instagram to see if I liked your eye, discovered I liked your ass. Which looks amazing all spread in front of me right now. Fuck!"

"You'd have better liked my photos!" She tried to sound stern, but mostly sounded turned out. If this looked like it felt.....

"Almost as much as your ass." He gripped her then, and bounced her up and down. His hand covered her from the bottom of her waist to where his thumb reached her crack. "Loved the way this looked, your little waist and flared hips. I love your ass." He grasped it then, almost a slap, except his huge hand wrapped around her flesh. His thumb landed near her seam again. And then drifted down to where his cock went in and out on the rhythm she had established. She was keeping them both suspended, like she did her hula hoop. He caressed where he was stretching her and both holes flexed. When the tip of his now wet thumb went in where she had been empty, the no man's land ended. Her body plunged into battle.

"Oh fuck Harry!" This was gonna make her come. Him bouncing her ass up and down his nearly too big cock while he fingered her ass.

"That's it, a little more Helene. Take a little more." His thumb went in deeper, but she lost her rhythm and had to grab his knees when her arms collapsed on the force of her climax.

Her awareness came back a second later when both his hands were sweeping up her back. She realized she was sobbing a little when she heard his shushing noises.

"Almost there baby." He stood up then, with her still on him and her legs came down on their own, her toes touching the floor. His knees bent and he pressed down at her neck until her forearms reached out to meet the table. "Relax. I got you."

And then he gripped both hips and took over the cadence until she had to hold the table with both hands.

She could hear herself babbling. God he was such a good fuck, and she felt so small and dainty and sexy. And powerful, taking every inch on him.

"Fuck, yes, fucking fucking me." That was in English.

He was increasing in volume too. And speed. She felt the contraction inside her and his nails dug in a little at her shoulder.

Again, she was coming again, at the bite of his nails, and groan of her nail, and pulse of his cock.

They were both breathing heavy a moment later. He sat down with her still in his lap and Helene realized that while her shirt was tucked up over her tits, they both still had their tops on. He brought her skirt down over her naked bottom half while he wilted inside of her.

"Well, if there was any doubt, I'd say you are a spinner."

"Nah," her brow was wet and she'd caught most of her breath, she looked up at him and bit her lip. "I'm just good at hula hooping."

[twdeadfanfic]

Life at the end of the world: Pt.4

Summary: Your life as a zombie apocalypse survivor. It starts with the Reader settling into the camp at the quarry, before s1 and then follows the show events and storyline, more or less, but with the Reader in it.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Slow burn, violence, language.

Author’s note: Fourth part of my first twd fanfic, I’ve been itching to write something like this for a long while and I write it for fun, I don’t claim to be a writer so if you find you dislike this fic, please be kind and just stop reading. English’s not my first language so maybe there’re some mistakes, I apologize in advance. For the same reason, I can’t write character’s accents and things like that. At any rate, I hope you enjoy it. There’d be several parts to this.

"There you go.”

You smiled to Sophia, trying to hide how worried you were, as you passed her a half-empty box of cereal bars you had taken from the CDC. It brought you memories from the first time you met the girl and shared your chocolate bars with her.

“Thank you, Y/N.” She took one of the bars and gave the other one to Carl.

Carol smiled to you gratefully and passed you a can of beans she was dining in. Food was scarce and you all were sharing a couple of cans with each other.

“We should have taken all the food that asshole had,” Daryl said grumpily. “Now it’s ashes.”

“It’s not like we had much time...” You had taken the box of cereal bars, the closer food item you saw when Rick had told you to grab your things before Dr. Jenner closed the doors. Wherever you went, you were sure to be short of food.

You were hiding in a rather small warehouse at the outside of Atlanta. It had been almost clean of walkers and seemed the only more or less safe hiding place you had seen since driving out the CDC earlier that day. You had chained the door but still, you were taking turns keeping watch. In this world, you couldn’t be too careful.

There had been some talk about what to do, although most of you were feeling so down and hopeless you didn’t care much. Shane’s idea of going to Fort Benning seemed the only chance you still might have, although after the CDC you didn’t feel very hopeful about it.

“We must have hope...” Rick had tried to lift the group spirits and you had to admire him for it.

It had been decided that you’d go to Fort Benning at first light. You didn’t have much gas so you’d take the fewer vehicles possible, splitting the remaining fuel. You were almost sure that you’d have to say goodbye to your tiny, old, second-handed car. Not the most practical for traveling, even back before the world ended.

After securing the warehouse, Glenn, Rick, and Daryl had gone on a run, trying to find supplies for your travel. You all worried sick watching them go but it had to be done. You couldn’t go to Fort Benning or wherever you ended without any food. They had come back with some cans of food and bottles of water but they hadn’t managed to find any fuel as they had hoped, hence they had taken the decision of splitting the fuel you already had.

After dinning on the canned beans you went to the door to keep watch, letting T-Dog who was currently there have some rest. You saw the others starting to spread their sleeping bags here and there, standing close to each other.

“Y/N.” You looked up when you heard your name and saw Daryl standing next to you. “I’d forgotten I found this but Sophia said they are your favorite.” He passed you some chocolate bars of your favorite brand.

“Thank you!” You were taken aback, having thought you’d never eat one of those anymore. Sure, canned beans were more useful and nutritious, but your mouth was watering at the chocolate. Still, you bit your lip thinking about the kids and how much they loved them too. “You know what, give them to Sophia and Carl, but tell them not to eat them all in one go.”

Daryl took them back but threw one of the bars to you anyway. You smiled at him, opened the bar and split it in half, giving one part to Daryl. He frowned as if confused but took it. You took a bite of chocolate and closed your eyes, smiling in delight.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate how lucky we are to have cans of food, but this...,” you said, mouth full. “This is another level.”

Daryl snorted quietly with laughter but nodded, eating the other half of the bar and leaving you to keep watch.

You huddled in the blanket Carol had given you more for comfort than for cold, the evening was warm, and got ready for the long, lonely hours until your turn finished.

Halfway through the night, Shane got up to take your post so you could have some sleep before the sun went up. You got up and turned your back without a word but he stopped you.

“Ey, Y/N, wait.” Shane went to grab your arm but stopped when he saw you were turning to face him. “I...um...I’m sorry I was like that at the CDC. I was too drunk.”

You nodded, accepting his apologies but said nothing, heading towards your sleeping bag. You weren’t upset anymore about how he had been with you but you felt uneasy thinking what might have happened between him and Lori. Still, Shane’d been one of your first friends in the group and you felt strange being strained with him, but you couldn’t help it. You hoped things would get better eventually, though.

Next morning you weren’t the only one saying goodbye to their car in order to save gasoline. Actually, the only car your group took was Carol’s Cherokee, Rick, Lori, Carol and the kids all going on it. Daryl left his pickup in favor of his brother’s bike, which needed less gas.

“You don’t think it’s dangerous to go like that?” You asked him, genuinely worried at the lack of helmet or anything between his body and the walkers you might find on your way. You weren’t even that safe inside cars.

Daryl scoffed at you. “I’ve been riding since forever, it’s fine.”

“At least you’ll be less cramped than the rest of us.” You pointed at Carol’s car, already full and then made your way into the RV.

There was no discussion about taking Dale’s old RV, no matter the risk of it breaking down. You needed the space and it had room for all your things, not to mention a bathroom and a real, big bed. Dale, Glenn, T-Dog, Shane, Andrea and you were all in it and it felt a bit too cramped but you weren’t going to complain.

  _______________________________________________________

You weren’t sure of how long you’d been travelling, you thought you weren’t even halfway but it was feeling eternal. The mood wasn’t the best, all mourning Jacquie, worried about what you’d discovered in the CDC and afraid of what you might find next.

You were bored out of your mind listening to Andrea and Shane’s talk about guns, you knew the basics already. You borrowed a book Glenn was reading but you weren’t even five pages into it when your group ran into trouble.

The road seemed to be blocked by cars and cars, but you didn’t have enough fuel to find a detour so Daryl zigzagged through the cars trying to find a way through. You watched him worriedly, hoping that there weren’t any walker inside a car that could grab him but as the RV followed him you only saw people really dead, seeming to have been like that for a long while, and you looked away quickly.

On top of everything, the RV decided to break down in such a moment, groaning as it halted into a stop, smoke rising from his hood.

“I said it, didn’t I say it...” Dale complained before starting to work on it.

The group decided to take advantage of such an eventful situation and you all went from car to car trying to scavenge something useful. Food, water, supplies, anything that you may need. You were short of everything.

The corpses inside the cars turned your stomach but you forced yourself to keep going, to be brave. By now you knew you needed it if you wanted to survive this world. You followed Carol and Lori, hand on the holster of your gun, scooping from car through car.

“Ed didn’t let me wear anything like this...” Carol said as she took a cute tank top from one of the cars. “We’re going to need clothes.” She excused herself when she saw the look Lori was giving her.

You felt a bit annoyed by Lori since you started your search she had been complaining about it. None of you wanted to do this but you had to, did she wanted you to go without food? And Carol was right, you barely had any spare clothes.

“It’ll look perfect on you, Carol, take it.” You gave her the brightest smile you could muster.

You all kept scavenging silently, finding some food items. Boxes of cereal bars and biscuits, cans and all the usual things like that, and you collected them next to the RV.

The gloomy mood of your group lifted a little when Shane found a truck full of big water containers.

“Were we short on water?” He announced before opening one and letting the water fall over his head.

You ran to the truck, laughing, and did the same, letting the fresh water pour over your hair and shaking your head, sending droplets everywhere.

“You look like a dog,” Shane told you, laughing.

You were smiling at him brightly before you knew what you were doing. You smiled faltered for a second but then returned to your face. You were glad the tension between you two was slowly ebbing away.

Of course, whenever something good happened to your group, something bad seemed to always have to happen too and Rick jumped off the RV roof to tell you walkers were getting close. You had barely any time to hide and you tried not to panic, not knowing what to do. You followed Rick and hid under a car, barely making it on time before walkers started to walk around.

You saw Carol and Lori under another and also Carl and Sophia, but you couldn’t see anyone else. You saw the legs of the walkers as they passed, more than you had ever seen together, like a true herd. Your heart was pounding so hard you were afraid the monsters were going to hear it, they were so close and you felt so exposed you felt you could just start crying, you were so scared...

Rick seemed to notice your panic because he gave you an encouraging look, nodding his head as if trying to say you everything was going to be alright. You nodded and closed your eyes, trying to breathe deep.

After what felt like an eternity the growls of the walkers seemed to go away, his footsteps walking away. You opened your eyes and looked around, you couldn’t see any rotten leg, it seemed all they had gone away but Rick held up his hand, telling you to wait.

Suddenly a walker appeared out of nowhere and you watched, terrified and helpless, as it fell down to the floor next to the car under which Sophia was hiding. The little girl cried out and tried to move away but the monsters crept under the car too.

Sophia got up and ran away from the car before any of you could do anything to help her, the monster being too close. You rolled out of under the car along with Rick in time to see her running towards the woods chased by two walkers, Rick jumping out off the road and running behind her, trying to get the walkers before they get her, all disappearing into the woods.

Carol tried to follow them, panicking but Lori held her in place exhorting her to wait for Rick to come back with Sophia.

“Ey, some help here!”

You heard Daryl’s voice and you turned around to see him making his way towards the RV, holding T-Dog’s forearm, which seemed to be bleeding.

“What happened?” You asked, walking to them and watching as Andrea and Glenn began cleaning T-Dog’s arm.

“Cut my forearm while trying to hide...” T-Dog grumbled weakly, grimacing.

“Ey, what’s going on?” Daryl frowned taking in your panicked face and seeing Carol crying at the side of the road, staring at the woods.

“Some walkers found Sophia and she ran to the woods.” You explained, following him as he quickly made his way towards where Carol and Lori were standing. “Rick had gone after them.”

“Shit...” He murmured.

“Rick’ll bring her back, we have to wait.” You said when he didn’t stop walking, afraid he was going to disappear into the woods too.

Daryl looked from the woods to you, then back to the woods, then to Carol and nodded, stopping, but soon he was anxiously pacing around. You were in anguish too but focused on comforting Carol.

When Rick came back Sophia wasn’t with him.

Carol began sobbing again, panic rushing through her but Rick began talking fast, trying to ease her fears. He had led the walkers away from Sophia and had let her hidden, telling her to ran back to the camp if he wasn’t back. If Sophia wasn’t there, then she must be still hidden.

This time, when Rick went back to look for Sophia, Daryl, Shane, and Glenn went with him, leaving you all there waiting anxiously. Shane and Glenn came back not much later, without Sophia.

“It’s fine, it’s fine people,” Shane told you before you started panicking. “Daryl and Rick can find Sophia without us so Glenn and I decided it was better to come back and start getting everything ready so we can leave as soon as they are back. Right, Glenn?”

Glenn nodded quickly but he seemed out of sorts and rushed towards the RV.

You knew Shane, knew he was trying to keep you busy so you wouldn’t panic about Sophia, so things wouldn’t get out of hand. Still, you welcomed the distraction and were eager to feel useful.

“Alright people, I want you to put together all the supplies we have found and try to see if you can find anything else,” Shane commanded. “Andrea, Y/N, I want you with me, we’re going to push those cars that have blocked the road.”

After you managed to unblock the road you went to check on Carol but heard Dale and Andrea having a heated argument. Apparently, Dale was refusing to give Andrea her gun back and when Andrea complained about it to Shane he agreed with Dale, taking you aback.

“I’m going to have to take yours too, Y/N.”

You gaped at him. You understood he didn’t want anyone without training to carry a gun, they could shoot in a bad moment and bring walkers to you when they heard the sound or they could even hurt one of your own, but you’d already proven you knew how to shoot. Maybe you couldn’t run and shoot at the same time, alright, but you’d shot down walkers back when they attacked the quarry!

Shane was begging you with his eyes not to cause a scene though, so you took the gun he had lent you, already feeling vulnerable and helpless and gave it to him harshly.

“Okay, it’s your anyway.” You grumbled, walking away, ignoring Shane when he called after you.

The sun was getting down when Rick and Daryl came back, once again without Sophia. Your heart was in your throat and you couldn’t imagine how Carol must be feeling, sobbing as she saw them approach without her daughter.

Rick explained that Sophia wasn’t where he left her but that they’d keep looking for her at first light, all you, trying to calm you all down without much success. Carol began panicking at the idea of Sophia staying the night alone in the woods. She was finding hard to breath and you held her, trying to help her stand up.

“There was no blood, lots of people get lost and they get back,” Daryl said, looking at Carol worriedly and trying to comfort her but Carol just began panicking more when she noticed the blood on his trousers.

None of you felt better when Rick and Daryl explained the blood was from a walker they cut open, making sure he hadn’t eaten Sophia. Your stomach turned but you tried your best to stay strong for Carol.

“How could just leave her out there to began with, how could you leave her.” Carol sobbed, blaming Rick. “She’s just a child...”

She ignored all Rick’s explanations and you couldn’t blame her. She was in shock, scared to death for her little girl who was alone in the woods at night, maybe with walkers out there. But still, you felt bad for Rick. He had done his best, had tried, was still trying, and you pat his shoulder when you walked past him as you all made your way back into the cars for the night.

There wasn’t much space to sleep inside the vehicles, so you were lucky you got to share the RV bed with Carol and Andrea.

Before getting into the RV you saw Daryl perched up on top of it, having taken the first turn of watch duty, and you made your way up.

“Ey...you really think Sophia is okay?” You asked as quietly as possible so the others wouldn’t hear you. “Please, be honest.” You begged, even though you were afraid of what he might say.

“Course she’s okay.” Daryl looked at you in disbelieve, seeming a bit annoyed. “Told Carol already, lots of people get lost and they get back.”

“Yeah...but the walkers...” You bit your lip hard, feeling dangerously close to tears.

“I saw no walkers but the one I cut open. The little girl is fine, we’ll find her.” Daryl insisted and he almost made you have hope. Maybe Sophia was alright, hidden somewhere. Maybe you’d find her tomorrow.

“Okay...okay, thanks.” You gave him a weak smile. “I’m gonna check on Carol.”

“Take care of her,” Dary whispered quietly, a worried frown on his face. You could see how much he actually cared about her and her little girl, more than you could have thought. It made you feel a bit better, somehow. Daryl would found Sophia.

“Yeah, she’s strong though, you told me right?” You replied, thinking he might be in need of some comfort too, even though for now he seemed to be the only one keeping the spirits high about the situation.

Once in bed, Carol kept crying and crying, unable to sleep and when Andrea got up, saying she needed some air, you saw she was crying too.

You stayed there though, you couldn’t get yourself to leave Carol like that, no matter how much her tears hurt you, how much it made you think about all the horrible things that could happen to Sophia, no matter Daryl’s words. You cuddled with Carol, letting her sob into your shoulder until she passed out, exhausted, a couple of hours before dawn, you falling asleep too almost immediately after her.

Next morning, while Daryl explained to the group the plan and route to follow in your search for Sophia, Shane gave you all weapons. No guns though. You got a decent sized knife, it wasn’t bad but you much preferred your gun. Still, it seemed Shane wasn’t going to give it to you back and if he did it’d probably just upset Andrea more.

She was still complaining about them having taken her gun and you could understand her but you didn’t want to start an argument about it, not now when you had a way more important task to focus on, so you took the knife without complaining.

All you were going to look for Sophia, besides Dale who stayed to repair the RV and T-Dog, whose wounded arm was being hard to heal and had left him weak.

Daryl guided you into the woods, at the head of your line and you all looked around anxiously, waiting for any trace of Sophia or any danger to show up.

For a while you found nothing but then you saw a tent standing a bit further ahead of the path. Getting closer, Carol called quietly for Sophia, but nothing happened. You all watched anxiously while Daryl got into the tent, but he exited it after less than a minute to announce there wasn’t any threat inside, neither any trace of Sophia. Only the corpse of someone who had ‘opted out’.

Suddenly the sound of bells filled the air and you all ran towards it until you reached a church. Shane pointed out the church didn’t have any steeple so the sound couldn’t come from it but Rick ignored him, running towards it, and you all followed him.

When you reached it, Rick opened the door of the building and you carefully stepped inside, discovering three walkers which were sitting down on the benches. They turned their evil faces towards you and got up, stumbling towards you, but Rick, Shane, and Daryl made quick work of them.

“Sophia! Sophia!” Rick called for her, refusing to accept she wasn’t there, but the little girl didn’t come.

“Ey, J.C” You heard Daryl murmur to the statue on the cross. “You taking requests?

You patted his arm in what you hoped was a reassuring gesture, trying not to show how disappointed you were at Sophia not been there, trying not to lose hope, and Daryl looked at you as if startled before relaxing and giving you a nod.

Shane was trying to explain to Rick again that the sound of the bells couldn’t come from there when suddenly the bells started ringing again. You all rushed outside, finding out that the sound came from some speakers and Glenn stopped it ripping off the wires.

It had been just a recording...

Carol went back inside the church, tears falling down her cheeks, the hope of Sophia having found refuge in the church gone.

“There can’t be many walkers out here, they’d have come following the sound,” Daryl told you before getting inside the church.

“That’s good...” You said weakly, following him inside.

No walkers had shown up so maybe there weren’t many around, maybe Sophia was safe and sound, hiding somewhere. You had to keep hoping.

You couldn’t help your tears hearing Carol talking quietly, blaming herself and begging god to get Sophia back to her safe.

“We have to find her...” You whispered to Daryl and he nodded quietly, chewing on his thumb.

Once outside the church, Shane and Rick seemed to be discussing something and Shane announced they had decided it was best to split, him and Rick, and also Carl who insisted on going with them, would keep searching for Sophia while you retreated, looking for her in the woods and then Daryl would lead you back to the road.

Rick felt uneasy about leaving Lori without a gun so he tried to give her his but she refused, not wanting to leave him defenseless, and you blinked in surprise when Daryl offered his own gun to Lori immediately.

Andrea scoffed and sure, it was not fair Lori had a gun and you couldn’t have yours but still, you were moved by Daryl gesture, it was something you hadn’t expected from the redneck you’d met at the quarry.

He seemed to be changing somehow since leaving that camp or maybe he was just starting to show his true self. You’d already caught glimpses of it in your talks, in his insistence on the search for Sophia, in how he cared for Carol and her little girl. Now you saw another as he selflessly lent his gun so Rick would stop worrying that much.

You followed Daryl as he guided you through the woods, looking for Sophia but finding nothing.

“So this is it, this is the whole thing...” Carol complained and you didn’t know what to say, how to comfort her. You understood he was frustrated and worried sick, but you were doing everything you could.

You let out a frustrated sigh when Andrea and Lori started to argue, you couldn’t lose time in things like that. Lori called Andrea out, offering the gun, saying she was tired of her dirty looks and then confronted Carol too, exhorting her to stop blaming Rick for everything when he was doing his best to find Sophia.

You understood both parts so you stepped away, not wanting to be caught in the middle of the argument. To your relief, they seemed to sort everything out quickly.

“Come on people,” Daryl rolled his eyes. “We still have a lot of ground to cover.”

You hadn’t gone far when you heard a gunshot and you all looked around startled, but it came from far away, from where Rick, Shane, and Carl had gone. Worry was clear in Loris’ eyes, it had been a single shot and they wouldn’t shot at a walker unless they had problems, but Daryl insisted you had to keep moving.

You walked behind Daryl but he stopped when he heard Andrea trying to comfort Carol.

“We’re all hoping with you, for all it’s worth.” The blonde was saying kindly to Carol.

“I tell you what’s worth, not a damn thing. It’s just a waste of time to be hoping and praying” Daryl interfered harshly. “We’re gonna locate that girl and she’s gonna be just fine. I’m the only one zen around here? Good lord.” He ended his rant, making you snort a laugh.

You all kept following him, trying to not lose hope as you kept finding no trace of the little girl.

“Let’s head back,” Lori said when the sun started to get down.

“We’ll pick it up again tomorrow?” Carol asked, eyes begging sadly.

“We’ll find her tomorrow.” Lori tried to reassure her.

You were so tired and so focused trying not to trip over any root or bump in the path that you didn’t notice Andrea had gone out of the path until you heard her screams. You all ran towards the screams, horrified when you find her struggling against a walker.

Daryl aimed his crossbow but before any of you could do anything a young woman in a horse appeared out of nowhere, knocking down the monster with a bat.

“Lori, Lori Grimes?” The woman asked, eyeing your group.

“I’m Lori.” Lori walked to her, looking as confused as all of you. Who was that girl, where did she come from, how did she knew Lori’s name?

“Rick sent me, you gotta come with me now!” The girl explained quickly.“There’s been an accident, Carl’s been shot. He’s still alive but you gotta come now!”

You gasped in horror and Lori went pale, rushing to the horse.

“Whoa, whoa, we don’t know this girl you can’t get on that horse!” Daryl exclaimed, trying to stop her but Lori ignored him and the two women rushed away on the horse before the young woman told you where to find her family farm.

You all stood there, too shocked to do anything for a moment but then Daryl rushed to help Andrea onto her feet.

“Shut up.” He growled at the walker, who was getting up again, shooting an arrow into his head.

As soon as you reached the road Dale rushed to you, bombarding you with questions and looking more and more shocked as Glenn told him about the girl who took Lori on her horse, saying Carl had been shot.

“And you let her?” Dale asked Daryl and you rolled your eyes. Daryl was your tracker and your leader on the search, nor your babysitter, Lori had taken her own decisions and besides, Daryl had tried to stop her.

“Get off my ass, old man.” He answered annoyed. “Rick sent her, she knew Lori’s name and Carl’s.”

You saw there was still palpable tension between Andrea and Dale as she ignored him while he asked her if it was her who he had heard screaming in the woods and getting flustered when Glenn explained she took down a walker.

“Andrea? You alright?” Dale insisted but she kept ignoring him, getting into the RV.

You sat down next to Carol and she rested her head on your shoulders, tears falling down her cheeks silently. Daryl looked at you both, frowning and biting his lip but said nothing. You were at loss of words too, not knowing how to comfort Carol, so you just rested your head against hers, trying to offer some silent comfort for a moment until you were forced to get up and make plans.

There was much to talk about and decisions to make.

@momc95 @jodiereedus22 @osweetdevilo @sapphire1727 @coffeebooksandfandom 

I never thought anyone’d like to be tag in any of my stories so thank you! It means the world! <3

I hope you like this new chapter.

[mxssxng-mx]

Ed's Sick Day

I remembered it's FMA day and decided to fill in a slot for my @badthingshappenbingo at the same time.

Slot filled; confined to bed rest

Edward was not usually sick. This was probably a good thing. He hated being sick. The sniffling, the fever, the feeling of pain in his chest every time he coughed...

And having to stay in bed. That was absolutely the worst part. But Al and Winry refused to let him get up until he wasn't sweating bullets and throwing up from the copious amounts of mucus in his stomach. The only consolation was that Win had promised to make some of her grandma's stew just for him.

So, for now, the famed Fullmetal Alchemist was confined to his bed, pouting and huffing as he tried to think of something to distract his mind. He'd gone over all of his notes already; what his mind didn't blur, he was tired of reading. He'd tried to make some sketches of Scar or that cat thing, but he was just reminded how bad of an artist he could be. He kind of wished he had something to transmute, to really hone his skills with the finer details.

If Den was in the room, maybe he could make the dog get Winry so he could ask for some scrap metal... He leaned over the bed, looking around the room and finding he was totally alone.

“Oh, COME ON!” he groaned, flopping so hard against the mattress the bed jumped. He heard footsteps as he laid back, the door creaking open after a few moments.

“What?” Winry huffed. Her forehead was already smeared in grease.

“I'm bored.”

She sighed, “Leave it to you, Ed... What do you want?”

He sat up, “Well, I was kinda hoping for some scrap metal or something. I wanna work with my transmutations, get all those finer details down, ya know?” he grinned, “Maybe I can make you something.”

“What, to thank me for the stew?”

“Well, it is my favorite meal...”

“Whatever. How much do you want? I have a pile sitting in my work room that I haven't found a use for.”

“I don't know, like... 2 Kilos?” Ed figured he could make some decent stuff with that. And once he was done he could reuse some of it again.

“Sure, give me a minute.” Winry disappeared. The sound of scraping metal and frustration as she tried to free metal from her pile.

“Al!! Come in here, I need your help!”

“Ah! Coming!” metallic feet thudded down the hall and Ed almost laughed. Winry must have really messed up in making the pile, usually she could just get it herself. He could hear the two trying to figure out how to get a piece off the pile, and straining as they tried to pull it out.

“Need help?!” he called before coughing.

“You stay in bed! You're still sick!” Winry yelled, “We've almost got it!”

Ed managed to stifle his coughs, “Ugh... You sure?”

“Ed, if I see you out of bed, not only will you not get stew, you won't get your scrap metal!” she yelled back

“Fine...” he crossed his arms and thudded his back against the headboard with a huff. A little transmutation and he could have what he wanted already...

Finally, after minutes, the door opened and Winry carried in a larger hunk of metal. Al must have transmuted a chunk off. She carried it over and let it fall on the bed, causing Ed to jump back before it hit his legs.

“Winry! You almost crushed my legs!!”

“Sorry. How's this though?”

“It's fine,” he turned it over, looking at the different metals in it, “I can work with it a lot,” he grinned, “Thanks.”

“As long as it keeps you quiet,” she sighed, going to the door, “Stew is cooking right now, I'll bring you some around lunchtime. Hopefully you'll hold it down.”

She didn't get a reply. Ed was already busy making different configurations of animals and decorations out of the lump of scrap. She shook her head with a smile and went back to work.

Al was the one to bring lunch around, carrying a tray holding a bowl and bit of bread, “Brother? Are you hungry?” He knocked at the door. There wasn't an answer.

“Brother..?” He opened the door slowly. Ed was fast asleep, leaned over a pile of figurines and gate posts he'd made. There was still a quarter of the original chunks left near him. Al set the tray down with a small sigh.

“Honestly, brother... One of these days you're going to end up with back problems the way you fall asleep.” He set the metal and figurines to one side, repositioning Ed so he was laying in a better position. The blankets were pulled up to his chest and then Al left the room. He'd warm the stew back up when his brother woke up again.

[yixingssheeps]

Untitled Part 2

Good day everybody. x Back again with part two. I don’t know how many people read the first part but I’m in a writing flow right now and I decided to post part 2 already. Please share with me what you think of this story and let me know if you like it.

Word count: 1146

Part 2

Jeannie POV

She just didn’t get it. She’s been working for hours on the assignment in her creative writing class and she just couldn’t work it out. She had to write a love story, but how can you write a love story if you’ve never really been In love. Jeannie knew she shouldn’t have chosen creative writing as her class she should have chosen something easy, something she was actually good at, but unfortunally she listened to her friend Jana who persuaded her for hours that she should chose creative writing so they had at least one lesson together, that’s what you get for going to college with your best friend. “I give up”, Jeannie sighed and closed her laptop who layed on her table who was full with mugs and other assignments she had for all of her classes, if she knew college was so much work she would have never chosen to go to college and would have just lived in basement of her parents house for the rest of her life and maybe married an old rich man so she never had to do crap like that. “Jana I don’t want to do this assignment can you do it for me? You’re so good at writing cringey romantic scenes”, Jeannie whined to her friend who gave her a ‘are you serious’ look over the rim of her glasses. “I’m just taking this class because of you the least you could to is help me”, Jeannie tried again but she knew there was no way of persuading her friend who was all for doing work themselves. “You know what I’m going to play some music do you mind? I need to get this assignment out of my head and relax”, she took of her glasses and went over to where she put her guitar. “Do you have a wish what I should play?”, she asked her friend who immediately smiled at her, Jeannie knew what song she should play. “Dive from Ed Sheeran”, Jana said enthusiastically and Jeannie lost no time and began to play. She loved playing guitar and singing at the same time, it helped her getting over stress, especially now that she was an adult and had to do adult stuff like paying taxes and so on. Jeannie played for a while until she thought it was enough and put her guitar away. “You Know what? I don’t want to do this assignment today I’m going to sleep”, seems like making music didn’t really put her mind off of homework. “Okay if you think doing the paper tomorrow when you know tomorrow evening is the deadline, is a good idea then you do you girl”, she said and gave her a thumbs up. To be honest Jeannie knew she better ideas in her life but she just didn’t feel like doing the paper on this day and sleep seemed like a far more better idea. “Thanks for the ted talk but I’m tired and tomorrow is a good day to write this essay I just feel it.”

The next morning, as Jeannie was packing her bag for class, she remembered the assignment and put her laptop in her bag so she could work on it during her breaks and boring classes. Which she was doing as soon as she got into professor Kims class. She just didn’t feel it that day and thought it was more important to work during his class. Everything went well until he suddenly stood behind her, cleared his throat and tipped her on her shoulder. “That doesn’t look like the assignment I gave you miss Jackson”, he said and gave her a look. “Meet me after class”, he said and walked back to his table, where he sat down on his chair and showed Jeannie with a hand sign that she should put her laptop away if she didn’t want to get into more trouble.

After her class she waited again until everyone left and made her way to professor Kims table where he sorted trough papers. “I’m sorry that I was working on something else professor, but I just really needed to finish that paper or I would have gotten a bad mark in my other class”, she tried to justify her actions but she knew there was no way he would believe her. “Okay. I understand that your marks are important but please try to at least pay attention in my class, I know you have had good grades in this class last year.” “I know I’m really sorry but it’s just I chose this creative writing class and I’m just not that good at it”, she tried to explain to him and he smiled at her. God was he cute when he smiled. “You know I can help you if you want. I understand a little bit of writing myself since I write my own songs and stuff like that. Why don’t you meet me in my office after you finished today’s classes”, he offered her and she almost couldn’t believe her ears. Was he really suggesting to help her with her class? The cutest professor on campus? “Oh, yeah of course, that would be great thank you”, she smiled at him. “Great meet me after class”, he dismissed her and she happily walked out of class, glad that she had someone who would help her.

Jeannie’s day finally ended and she made her way across campus to get to professor Kims office. After she arrived she knocked three times and let herself in.

“Thank you again so much for helping me”, she smiled at him and he said that there was no problem, that he liked helping his students out.

“So what is your essay about?”, he asked.

“It’s supposed to be a love story but I’m so bad at love stories”, she showed him what she had already written.

he read trough it quietly and added here and there a few changes.

“It’s not bad you just have to practice a lot, maybe write a few assignments on love and you have it. I’ve read far worse”, he said and smile at her, only then she realised that he had two dimples. He was getting cuter day by day.

They worked on her paper a for a while and she didn’t realise it was getting dark outside.

“I should probably head home now it’s getting dark”, she said and pointed at the window.

“Oh yeah sure I don’t want to keep you here. But don’t forget to mail your assignment first.”, he reminded her and she immediately  mailed it to her other professor so she wouldn’t forget and after that she packed her laptop back into her bag and closed it. She didn’t want to go, she really enjoyed working with him.

“Thanks again professor”, she said and left the room

[t0m0kii]

FANFIC: The Christmas Party [Edd/Eddy]

And here we are! This is a special Christmas fanfic I’ve been working on since late November, and now that I’ve finally finished it, I’m posting it here. Even though my writing skills are sub-par, I hope you enjoy! ((Read below)) 

It was a slightly chilly Winter morning in Peach Creek. Even though Christmas wasn't going to be until a few days from then, the holiday spirit was still quite prominent. The only thing missing was the snow, but that didn't really matter. Alas, even with all the holiday merriment going around, school still hadn't gotten out yet. We move our focus over to the Ed Boys, who were talking on their way to school.

“What's even the point of going to school the day before Winter Break?” Eddy put his hands in his pockets in an attempt to shelter them from the morning chill. Alongside him walked one of his best friends, Edd (or “Double D”), who looked as if he was preparing to give a lecture.

“You may not believe it now, Eddy, but school is a crucial part of-”

“Yeah, yeah, heard it all before. At least we get out a few hours early today!” He interrupted, grinning. He looked back at his other best friend, Ed, who was busy chasing a tree squirrel.

“Surrender, creature of the netherworld,” Ed shouted at the squirrel. “ For you are surrounded!” As you could guess, this didn't faze the squirrel at all.

Double D's eyes widened as he quickly walked over to him. “Refrain from terrorizing nature, Ed!”

The squirrel quickly scampered into a nearby tree, disappearing from view. Ed frowned, facing downwards. “But he took Sheldon Jr., Double D!”

Eddy walked over, looking up into the tree.“Ha! Good riddance!” The reminder of Ed's decaying piece of cheese made him shudder. The stench on that thing was the stench of nightmares. However, Ed still looked sad about the fate of his cheese pal. Eddy patted his friend on the back. “Aw, relax, we'll find ya another one.”

This seemed to cheer Ed up. Upon seeing this, Double D smiled warmly and said, “That was very sweet of you, Eddy.”

“Y-yeah, I guess...” Hearing his friend say this made the shorter boy blush. This had been happening more and more often. What was it about the sock-headed boy that made him feel this way? I mean, it's not like he liked him or anything...Right?

Nevertheless, the three began walking again, and before they knew it, they had arrived.

When they walked in, they were greeted by the other neighborhood kids. Ever since the whole thing with his brother, Eddy was on good terms with everyone, even Kevin. Although he still wasn't quite on his level, Eddy considered himself “cool”, and when you're cool, you get invited to stuff, which is exactly what happened here.

As the three boys entered the room, Nazz approached them with a stack of envelopes. “Hey, dudes! I've got something for you.”

She picked up three envelopes out of the stack and handed them to the Eds.

“Telegram!” exclaimed Ed, returning to his usual antics.

“Nah, it's just an envelope, Ed, but whatsit for?” Eddy examined the small, pink envelope. Whatever this thing is for, he thought, boy, does it look girly.

“It's an invitation to my Christmas party tonight! Go ahead and open it up.”

The three opened their envelopes.

Inside was a tiny blue slip of paper with all of the party info on it. From what he could gather from the paper, it was basically just explaining that it was a party at 6:30 to celebrate Christmas and Winter Break and all that, and there'd be music, gift exchanging, blah blah...

It sounded sappy and boring, but at least there was gonna be free stuff!

“Well, I guess I'll see you dudes there!” With that last sentence, Nazz smiled and walked away, presumably to distribute invitations to everyone else.

Eddy turned toward his friends, grinning. “You hear that, boys? A Christmas party! There's always free stuff galore at Christmas parties!”

Double D carefully inserted the slip of paper back into his envelope and tucked it safely into his messenger bag. “Precisely, but it's an exchanging of gifts, which means that you have to get someone something, too!”

“All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth, guys.” said Ed, pointing to his teeth.

Eddy gave him a confused look. “You've already got those!”

“Ed's in the right mindset, though,” said Double D. “Christmas presents should be something one could keep forever and ever. A keepsake, if you will.” As he spoke, he had a faraway look in his eyes, as if he had some sort of idea forming in that smart head of his.

The shorter boy observed him as he talked. He almost looked cute.

...He didn't really just think that, did he?

Suddenly, the talking ceased. “Goodness me! My rambling has made us nearly late to class! Quickly, gentlemen, we must hustle!”

The three hurried to their homeroom class.

Math class was always boring, no matter what day it was.

Eddy looked up at the clock constantly. It seemed that time moved the absolute slowest when you needed it to move quickly. He figured that he now had a lot of free time since he had finished his homework.

As he sat there, waiting for class to end, he considered this time a good opportunity to observe his surroundings.

He looked straight ahead to the seat in front of him. There he saw Ed, who had fallen asleep. Double D was turned around, desperately trying to wake him up, but it was no use. Ed was out like a light. He couldn't help but smile at this amusing scene.

However, he began to think about things.

Ed fell asleep, which would normally cause him to get in trouble (if the teacher wasn't out of the room, that is). Even when this happened, Double D tried to wake him up, also risking getting himself in trouble for talking, just because he's that good of a friend.

Even though he wouldn't admit it, Eddy didn't know what he would do without him sometimes. However, ever since their journey to the amusement park to meet his brother, he had been starting to feel a lot of weird feelings. He knew it wasn't the type of feelings his brother had told him about, though. It felt like something different, something more meaningful; The type of feeling he got when he and Double D would touch hands by accident, or when Ed would joke about them liking eachother, or even the short moments where their faces would be inches apart.

The feeling felt familiar, but he just couldn't put his finger on what it was...

All of a sudden, the loud noise of the bell pierced through his thoughts, bringing him back into reality. At that moment, he sort of wished class was longer.

“Incoming air strike!” exclaimed Ed, who had been startled awake by the bell.

Double D began one of his lectures. “Honestly, Ed, you should really try to stay awake! Of course, I had attempted to awaken you, but I didn't succeed...”

“Ya might as well had been trying to wake up a rock, Double D.” Eddy joked.

“Did I turn into a butterfly?” asked Ed, smiling.

Double D giggled. “Not quite, Ed.”

On that note, the three boys walked out of the room to their next class.

About an hour or two later, it was lunchtime.

The three had already eaten their heavily processed cafeteria food (which was unsurprisingly disgusting), so they had time left to talk. Their conversation eventually shifted toward the subject of the Christmas party.

“Do you think there's gonna be scary movies?” asked Ed, looking eager.

Eddy laughed. “You ever seen a scary movie at a Christmas party?”

“I dunno, the mushy ones are pretty scary!” he replied.

While the two had been talking, Double D had decided to tidy up the space around him. “I do believe that the party will be quite enjoyable, but thinking of what sort of gifts to get is going to be challenging.”

“Ah, don't worry about it,” said Eddy. “Besides, we've got 'till 5 five o'clock.”

“You have a point,” he said. “Well, I'd best go prepare for the next class.”

The sock-headed boy stood up and hurried out of the room. Eddy couldn't help but think that he was planning something. After all, there was still ten minutes left of lunch!

Shrugging the idea off, he turned to Ed, who was messing around with a spoon. “Uh...Ed, can I ask ya somethin' real quick?”

The taller boy turned to face him, putting the spoon down. “Wait, let me guess: You want to know what happens in the last issue of 'Robot Rebel Ranch: The Comic Mini Series'. Welp, sorry, Eddy, I can't tell you!”

His eyes narrowed. “No, that ain't it. Besides, I've read that issue already!”

Ed grinned, but still remained focused. “What is it, then?”

He looked around to see if anyone was listening. When he was sure the coast was clear, he spoke again. “It's about Double D. He, uh, makes me feel weird. Like, every time I look at the guy, I feel like I'm on a rollercoaster or somethin'.”

Ed thought for a moment. After a second or two, he said, “I don't get it.”

Eddy began to question if he really knew what he was talking about. “I mean like that feeling you get when you go up and shoot back down, and your stomach feels all funny.” He made a motion with his hands of a rollercoaster going down. “And every time I think about him, I just start smilin' like an idiot. I dunno what's goin' on, and it's freakin' me out! So, uh, I wanted to ask if you knew...”

Suddenly, the biggest smile appeared on his friend's face. “Ooh, I knew it! Eddy is a smitten kitten in mittens!” he exclaimed.

Oh. So that's what that feeling was. “Y-you mean I...Like him?” The shorter boy was confused for a second until he finally spoke again. “Yeah, I guess I do.” Then again, it wasn't that bad of a feeling. He wouldn't mind going out with Double D. In fact, it'd probably be fun.

You could tell from a mile away that Ed was absolutely overjoyed. “Double D and Eddy, sitting in a tree,” he chanted a bit too loudly. “K-I-”

“Pipe down!” Eddy's face turned red. “He can't know about it! I bet if I told him, he'd be so grossed out that he'd never wanna talk to me ever again.”

Ed gave him an encouraging smile. “But I think he likes you, too, Eddy.”

“You kiddin' me?! He's got a whole line of chicks waitin' to date him! Why the heck would he wanna get with me?” He faced the ground. “I dunno, maybe I'm just weird...”

For a second, Ed was deep in thought. Suddenly, he said, “Hey, I've got an idea! You should get him a present and tell him that way!”

His eyes widened when he heard this brilliant idea. “Of course! It's so incredibly sappy, it just might work!” However, he realized that this might be a challenge. “But how the heck am I gonna do I do that?”

His friend shrugged. “Make him a sandwich?”

“Since when has-” Right as he was about to launch into a sermon of how stupid he thought that suggestion was, he was interrupted by another moment of clarity. “Wait, that's it! I'll just make him somethin' and he'll like it so much that he'll have to like me back! Ed, you're a genius!”

“No, I am Ed.” It seemed he was back to his dim-witted self.

Suddenly, the bell rang. The two boys, leaving the cafeteria, met Double D at the door.

Eddy raised an eyebrow, smiling a little bit. “Have you been standin' there waitin' on us the whole time, Sockhead?”

“N-no, I just happened to be standing here when you arrived!” He looked away, blushing. “Oh, no matter. It's nearly time for our last class of the day! We'd best hurry along.”

And so they did. All the while, Eddy began to think about what type of present to get his friend. After a few minutes of thinking, he had the perfect idea.

After their last class, school was finally over! The Eds moved through the hallways, grabbed their bookbags and headed out of the door. As they walked home, the neighborhood kids followed behind them.

“Yo, Eddy!” said Kevin, raising his fist toward the boy. Eddy raised his fist in return, colliding the two in a fist bump. “You guys are goin' to the party, right?”

“You bet!” The shorter boy replied. “It's gonna be super cool!”

Shortly after Kevin approached, Rolf appeared. “Rolf would agree more had he not heard that the terrifying Kanker dames were going to be there!”

When the name “Kanker” was uttered, it silenced everyone. Eddy's eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

“He's right, man,” said Kevin. “We heard 'em talkin' about crashin' the party.”

This was the worst thing that could possibly happen. Of course, after the whole thing with Eddy's brother, the Kankers had stopped being so forceful with their affections, but they were still quite the bother sometimes.

“Oh, please,” said Double D. “If they did attend, heaven forbid, what's the worst trouble they could cause?”

“You think this is a game, brainy Ed-boy?” said Rolf, obviously highly distressed. “They are plotting as we speak!”

Kevin nodded. “Well, yeah, more or less. They didn't get into a whole lotta details, but they're definetely plannin' on doing something.” He shrugged. “I dunno, man, but if Nazz found out, she'd totally freak!”

“Ehh, they're probably makin' stuff up to scare us!” Eddy tried to act calmer than he actually was. “Don't sweat it, Kev. Everything'll be fine.”

“Because sweating is bad for your compulsion!” said Ed, raising his index finger in an attempt to act like Double D.

“Erm, I believe you mean 'complexion', Ed.” Double D replied.

Rolf looked somewhat calmer. “Anywho, I must be going now, as Wilfred has most likely gotten into the egg stash! Let us hope for the best, yes? Farewell!” He picked up his pace and walked briskly ahead.

“Hey, Rolf, wait up, man!” said Kevin. Before he went off, he looked back at the three Eds and said, “I'll see you guys later!” And with that final note, Kevin hopped on his bike and sped away.

Before they knew it, they had arrived back in the cul-de-sac.

Since Double D's house was the first house on the left, he was the first one to bid farewell. “I have a feeling this whole party endeavor is going to be quite thrilling!” he said as he walked toward his doorstep.

“Well, duh, Sockhead! It's a party! 'Course it's gonna be fun!” Eddy smiled to himself. His friend had no idea what he was planning. Speaking of the plan, it was almost time to follow through with it.

The two waved goodbye to their friend, and once he was out of earshot, Eddy explained his plan to Ed, who appeared to still be very happy about the whole situation.

“So I'm gonna need some cardboard,” he said, counting the items, “Some red paint, maybe a fancy lookin' ribbon or somethin', an' some scissors. You can get that stuff, right?” He looked up at his taller friend, who nodded enthusiastically in response. “Well, then, whaddya waitin' for? Get movin'!”

Ed sprung into action, and was hot on the trail in a flash. Eddy watched in awe as his friend scuttled around the cul-de-sac, scooping up each item he needed one by one. Say, where did he get all that stuff from, anyway? Oh, no matter. Once Ed was finally finished gathering all the items, he brought them back to his friend. “Special delivery!” he said, beaming. Upon looking at what he had brought, Eddy observed that it was, in fact, a pile of all of the things he had listed; a few pieces of cardboard, a bucket of red paint, a few strands of ribbon, and a green pair of scissors.

“Yeah, this oughta do it.” He looked down at the pile, quite pleased. “Well, I'm gonna bring it back to my place, take a nap and worry about it in a few hours.” he said, picking up the items. Although, he really didn't feel all that tired.

“Dream of cauliflourication, Eddy!” said Ed, clearly satisfied with himself for doing such a good job.

“It's californic-” He was about to correct him, but he realized that doing it would be pretty pointless. “Ah, whatever. See ya later, Ed.”

The two parted ways, and once the items reached his room, Eddy set the items down on his bed and quickly got busy.

He wasn't really certain what he was getting himself into, but he hoped that it would work.

We fast forward a few hours later.

The present was finally finished. Eddy took a second to sit back and admire his work. He was almost certain that Double D was going to love it. He looked down at his watch.

It was 6:28.

“Shoot!” He put the present in its small, painted cardboard box, sprung from his bed, grabbed his coat and rushed outside.

He was greeted by a gentle breeze, and, to his surprise, his friends. He hurriedly put the present in his coat and turned to face them.

Double D's eyes lit up when he saw him. “Goodness, Eddy, we've been waiting for you! I was beginning to ponder whether you were attending or not.” Eventually, his eyes moved down to the box in his hands. “Oh, what's that you have?”

Embarrassed, he put the box into his coat so it couldn't be seen. “Aw, forget about it, Sockhead. Anyways, let's get goin'! The party's gonna start soon!”

They walked down to Nazz's house and knocked on the door.

Once the door had opened, Nazz greeted them and let them inside.

Eddy observed the party. It seemed very Christmas-like, as the lights were turned slightly down low, and there was a tree and some lights, but the other kids talking and messing around drowned out the sound of the Christmas music playing in the background. There was a table with presents on it, and a table with assorted snack foods. There was even a bowl of gravy for Ed.

As his friends had their backs turned toward something in the distance, Eddy discreetly strolled over to the present table. He took the present out of his coat and placed it neatly on top of another box. It looked tiny compared to the others, but that didn't bother him. After setting the box down, he went back to where his friends were.

He smiled to himself. So far, things were going all according to plan. Not a Kanker in sight!

Until there was a noise coming from the entrance, catching the attention of everyone in the room. Crap, he thought. I jinxed it,

In walked the three Kankers, looking the same as they always did, most likely thinking of several ways to wreak havoc. The room emptied in an instant as the other kids escaped out of the back door, leaving only the Eds.

“Hey! Where the heck's everyone goin'?! Come back, guys!” Eddy attempted to bring everyone back, as the absolute last thing he needed was to be in a room with the Kankers in such an important time. Sadly, it was no use. Accepting defeat, he turned to face the three.

“Wow!” said May, perceiving the scene. “There's some sort of party goin' on!”

“No duh, stupid!” retorted Marie. “It's a Christmas party.”

“And we weren't even invited!” Upon these words being said, the most fearsome (to Eddy, at least) Kanker out of them all moved into view. He couldn't see her eyes, but he knew they were looking straight at him from the start. She flashed a smirk in his direction. “Well, well, well, look who it is, girls!” She looked at the other two sisters, who were practically exploding with glee at the sight of their “boyfriends”.

Ed moved behind Double D. Even he was frightened.

“Come on, let's get 'em! It ain't Christmas without a bit of love!” said Marie, giggling. The girls were just about to go running at the boys until they were halted by their oldest sister. “We ain't here for them, remember? We're nabbin' the presents and getting' the heck out! Right?”

The two girls nodded begrudingly, and they began a brisk walk over to the table.

Eddy's eyes darted toward the present table. Double D's gift was still sitting at the very top, and if he didn't figure out a way to get it, fast, it would be taken by the Kankers and most likely ruined.

There wasn't any time for an elaborate plan. He had to make up something quick.

Right as he was about to think of a plan, he turned back toward the table. The Kankers had already picked up all the presents and started to amble toward the exit. As May was following the others, one of the boxes she was carrying fell down.

As she was trying to pick it up, Marie looked back at her with narrowing eyes. “Just leave it, May. It's too tiny for it to have anything good inside of it.” At first, May looked disappointed by this, but in the end, she just left it.

“Thanks for the loot!” said Lee, launching the other two into a chorus of laughter. The laughter made an echo into the night sky as they got farther away.

Once they were gone, Eddy looked down to see which box May had dropped.

It was Double D's present, surprisingly still in good shape. He snatched it up and swiftly put it inside his jacket.

The back door opened, and the neighborhood kids returned. Upon seeing what the Kankers had done, Nazz burst into tears. Kevin was trying to comfort her, but it wasn't doing much. “I've been planning this party since late November, Kev! How could it have gone so wrong?” she said in-between sobs.

“Cool it, babe! It's not that bad. 'Least we still got the snacks.” Kevin pointed over to the before mentioned object, which was, thankfully, still intact.

She wiped her tears, sniffing occasionally. “Y-yeah, you're right. I guess it's not all totally wrecked.” She got up and got right back to merrymaking with the others. This went on for about another half hour.

The Eds, who had observed all of the previous mess, turned to eachother and began to talk.

“Poor Nazz,” said Double D. “It's so very unfortunate that such a thing would occur.”

“Yeah,” agreed Eddy. “At least the party's still goin'.” He saw this as his chance. He motioned for Ed to go somewhere else.

“Aye aye, captain!” said Ed, saluting and disappearing into the crowd. Once he was gone, Eddy and Double D were alone.

“Well...It is quite a nice party. Wouldn't you say so?” said the taller boy, looking down at his friend.

Eddy could barely hear him over the sound of his racing heart and the cheesy Christmas music. “Y-yeah, sure. It stinks about the gift exchange thing, though.”

Upon hearing this, the other sighed and said, “Ah, yes. It would've been nice to receive a Christmas gift. Mother and Father often forget, so I rarely get any.”

This was the time. He was going to make his big move. “Well, uh, I've got somethin' for ya.”

His friend perked up, his eyes glowing. “Really?”

“Yeah, but you've gotta shut your eyes, okay?”

A little bit of the glow in his eyes vanished as he glared at the shorter boy. “Oh, come now, Eddy.”

“Just shut 'em, Sockhead! And ya better not peek!”

Double D emitted a sigh of surrender, and brought his hands up to his eyes. Eddy looked up to make sure he was really shutting them, and when he thought the coast was clear, he brought the small box out of his coat.

“Alright, and...Open 'em!”

Double D lowered his hands to see a red and green box with the words “To: Double D, From: Eddy” painted sloppily onto it. He took the box into his hands, then looking at Eddy.

“Well, whaddya waitin' for, an invitation?” he said, blushing. “Take it outta the box!”

The lid of the box was removed, exposing the item inside.

It was a three-dimensional piece of cardboard in the shape of a heart. It was painted red and laced with a crimson ribbon, with the words “For Double D” on it written in permanent marker. Eddy watched anxiously as his friend's expression changed from a look of curiousity to a look of mild confusion.

“W-what is it?” said Double D, his voice quavering.

Eddy looked up at him humbly, gazing into his eyes. “It's my heart,” he said. “And it's yours now.”

It seemed like a wave of astonishment had washed over him. Since he wasn't speaking, Eddy decided it would be best if he went into detail.

“Look, uh, I like ya a lot. More than a friend should. Y'know, without ya, I probably would've stayed a dumb jerk forever. I really do owe a lot to ya. And...It feels like...Without ya, I probably wouldn't be anything.”

There was silence. He felt like Double D was waiting for him to say a certain thing.

“Alright, look, ya big egghead,” he began. “I've liked ya for a while. A long time, actually. I don't mean 'like' like friends, I mean 'like' like...Y'know! So I love ya and stuff! There, I said it! Sheesh...” He crossed his arms, then looked in another direction, blushing.

Double D was as still as a statue, holding Eddy's heart with shaking hands. There was nothing but silence until he finally smiled and said, “I've been waiting for you to say that.”

Eddy turned to face him. “D-does that mean that you like me back?”

He nodded. “Your feelings of love and affection are mutual!”

“If ya could say it in English, that would be nice.” said Eddy, totally confused by the boy's extensive vocabulary.

Double D sighed. “I mean to say that I love you as well.”

He smiled. “Oh. That's good.”

Suddenly, little white flakes appeared in the window. They seemed to be dropping slowly from the sky.

“Lookit, guys! It's snowing!” said Ed, reappearing.

The whole room erupted into a symphony of cheers. The kids rushed outside and began to frolic in the newly discovered snow.

Eddy looked at Double D. “Do ya wanna, um...Go out?”

“I suppose we should,” he replied, giggling. “Literally.”

And so, the two walked outside to join the others, hand in hand.

And that was the fic! I might post my writing stuff more often, so if you wanna see that, or if you liked this one, just let me know! 

[richie-rich-tozier]

all i got -- richie tozier x oc (pt1)

pairing: richie tozier x oc

warnings: swearing, smoking, domestic abuse, mentions of sexual things??

word count: 2238 (pretty long tbh but that’s just how i write i guess)

summary: CJ and her family moved from Phoenix to Maine, taking their belongings and secrets with them. CJ has little hope for the change until a certain Trashmouth introduces some potential.

a/n: basically, this is my first post-a-ma-jig of, like, actual content. i wrote this before i started this account which is why it’s the protagonist is an OC. if people don’t like that, i can rewrite this to make it  an x reader and write x readers in the future.

hope this doesn’t suck! xo

The clouds seemed to get darker and denser as I got closer and closer to what would soon be her new home. Derry, Maine was, from what she researched, a place quite unlike her hometown of Phoenix, Arizona. She was, unwillingly, trading crystal clear blue skies, golden sunshine, and closest friends for grey cloud-ridden skies, cold rain, and a bunch of small-town strangers.

The day she found out she was moving was a day she hated for more reasons than one. The first reason being, of course, that she had received the dreadful news that she was leaving Arizona. The second reason being that she told her boyfriend of a year that she didn’t love him. The third reason being she slept with Josh Herrin.

She also turned seventeen.

As she drove past a sign that announced her family had arrived in Derry, she tried her hardest to push these thoughts from her mind. She turned up the volume on her Walkman, she took in the town of Derry and what little it had to offer; not much. Pulling up at the traffic lights by a large statue of Paul Bunyan, she felt a light touch on her knee and looked from her window to see her mother with a small smile on her face.

“So, this is our new home, well, the surrounding area,” she grinned hopefully once I had removed my headphones. “What do you think?” I watched as her eyes flitted in the direction of my father and back again rapidly.

I chose my words carefully. “It’s nice,” I replied with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.

“Good, good...” my mother mumbled as she turned to sit properly in her seat once again. My father placed a hand on my mother’s thigh and she flinched. He didn’t stir, and she rested a feeble shaky hand on top of his. I resisted the urge to audibly wince.

The drive continued in silence as I decided to turn off my Walkman. We soon pulled up to a pale coloured home that looked too perfect to live in. It was eerily perfect against the dreary backdrop. As soon as my father stopped the car, my mother jumped out of the car and rushed to the door to unlock it, then hurried back to the trunk of the car before hastily grabbing a few bags and hustling it inside. I sighed before making my way outside of the vehicle.

“Hurry up, slow poke,” my father growled low as he walked past me. Shivers rolled my spine and I did as instructed, copying my mother.

I was sent upstairs after retrieving all the boxes from the trailer we had rented. I was instructed to unpack my room and the bathroom. I was relieved at the chance to escape my father’s eyes and rushed upstairs. I hadn’t taken much with me; partly because I wasn’t brought up to be the sentimental type and partly because I wasn’t allowed to. If I could’ve, I would’ve brought the Arizonan horizon with me. Instead, I brought a few photographs, a bed set, most of my clothes, my Walkman, my tapes and records, a record player, a boombox, and my makeup. I unpacked all of this fairly quickly, only taking two hours, and then set to work on the bathroom.

I had left the door open as I did so and could hear some commotion from downstairs as I unpacked the toiletries. It began with the shattering of a dish.

I heard my mother let out a shriek followed by the thundering of footsteps across the ground floor, a banging of cupboard doors, another shriek from mother and the sound of skin aggressively hitting skin.

“Now why would you do that?” I could hear my father spit. I snuck to the stairs and peered into the kitchen where I could see my mother cowered on the floor whilst my father hovered above her, a hand in her dark brown hair. She didn’t respond, she just whimpered and shook. “I said why!” he yelled.

My mother shakily sobbed. My father violently threw her head away from him, hitting her skull against the cabinet. He stomped towards the front door and I scurried up the stairs as he put on his boots and jacket.

“When I come back, this place better be unpacked and a cold beer waiting for me!” he announced before heading out the front door. I heard my mother’s sobs get louder as they escaped her fragile body. I was selfish and decided to save my self instead of helping her, fearful that my father may see me. I returned to unpacking the bathroom.

Once I had finished that, I returned to my room and sat down on my bed, staring out of the window. I could see the setting Derry sun and realised that it would be a long while until my father returned home. Mother’s crying had either stopped or quietened to a volume that CJ couldn’t hear. She proceeded to pull on her Chucks, throw her fake ID in her pocket with a handful of cash before going to find her mother downstairs. Tiffany Elizabeth Burlow was sitting at the dining room table, a glass of cloudy water in her pale hands, her posture impeccable and her expression unreadable. All CJ could read into her mother’s expression was that she would be passing out soon.

“Can I go to the pharmacy? I forgot to bring a toothbrush with me and I don’t want bad breath,” I nervously laughed.

My mother slowly moved her hazel eyes to my person, her expression dead and her dark circles aching. “Of course, sweetie, be safe,” she hummed, her lips twitching to a smile like a tick before returning to nothingness, her eyes settling on her drink.

I grabbed the keys to my mother’s car that had been waiting here for our arrival. Hopping into it, I took a deep breath before turning the keys in the admission and heading in the general direction of town, to where I recalled seeing the pharmacy earlier. It was a quiet drive with no traffic and little to see. Most residents seemed to be hidden away in their homes or elsewhere whilst a few kids and teenagers strolled between the diner and the movie theatre. I pulled up outside the pharmacy and headed inside to find it completely empty other than the cashier and myself.

I stood in the entrance for a moment meeting eyes with the boy behind the counter, clearing my throat before searching for a toothbrush, not that I had actually forgotten mine, but I needed the evidence that I had left the house to retrieve one. I also grabbed a packet of smokes when I was at the counter. The boy looked between me and the packet of Marlboro with and unconvinced expression. He priced up the toothbrush and then stopped.

“ID?” he asked, a small and outstretched towards me. The boy was just shorter than me with dark hair and a polo shirt. He didn’t seem very intimidating and so I felt confident. I pulled out my fake ID, batting my eyelashes at the boy who blushed lightly at the slight contact of my fingertips and his. He scanned the plastic, looking back up at me every now and then. “I’m sorry but—”

The boy was cut off as the doors of the pharmacy opened and another guy came strolling in, dark curly hair a mess around his pale and freckled face. I instantly spotted a purple mark on his neck and that he looked very dishevelled. “Eds!” the boy greeted loudly as he walked in, slightly out of breath.

“I told you not to call me that,” the boy at the counter sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Look, I’m not here to chit-chat, Eddie,” he said dismissively to the boy I now knew as Eddie. “I’m here on a mission.”

“A mission?” Eddie repeated.

“Condoms,” Richie stated. “Eds, I need condoms.”

Eddie sighed again. “Aisle 2,” was all he said before pricing up my cigarettes and handing them back to me. I shot him a small smile before reaching in my pocket for the cash.

The other customer, supposedly Eddie’s friend, approached the counter then, throwing a box of twelve condoms down with some money on top.

“No need to worry, doll. I got it,” he grinned as he leant against the counter beside me. He was rather close, too close.

I placed a finger on his chest and pushed him away lightly, taking my things and walking towards the doors. “Gee, thanks,” I mumbled sarcastically, loud enough for the tow boys to hear. Eddie sniggered, and the guy hit him on the chest.

I pulled a cigarette from the packet as soon as I exited the pharmacy, placing the butt between my lips and sparking it up. The smoke filled my lungs before I forced it out again. I leant against a brick wall just outside as I enjoyed my smoke. Soon enough, my time was disturbed.

“Forget something, Amanda Gould?” a voice asked from my right. I turned in the direction of the sound to see the tall and curly haired boy from before reading my fake ID as he approached me. He looked up when I didn’t reply and focused his chocolate brown eyes on my own. I noticed that he was very attractive, but he didn’t seem trustworthy.

“My name isn’t Amanda,” I replied once he was close enough for me to snatch the plastic away from him. I placed it in my pocket before taking another pull of my cigarette.

“I think Hot Stuff suits you better, anyways,” he joked, standing further away than he had inside the pharmacy. I didn’t react to his comment and looked away from him, disinterested. “This is the part where you laugh and tell me your actual name, sweetheart.”

“Oh really?” I said in a bored tone.

“I mean that’s usually how it goes.” Again, he was met with silence. “Well, if that’s how you’re gonna be, I’ve got better things to be doing.” The boy headed past me and slid into the driver’s seat of a car, a girl in the passenger seat giggling like a bimbo as the tow sped off. I scoffed, stomped out my cigarette, and headed towards my mother’s car.

Once I arrived home, I wasn’t surprised that my father’s car still hadn’t returned. What did surprise me was the car parked on the other side of the street. It was the car that belonged to the curl haired boy who needed condoms. I rolled my eyes at the sight, noticing that it was the only car at the residence and that the only light that was on was one on the second floor.

Inside my new home was quiet when I entered. I walked slowly around the downstairs to find it empty and walked upstairs to find my mother passed out on her bed. I sighed a quiet sigh before heading in to my room, getting washed and changed, and then crawling into bed having nothing else to do.

I was awoken by the slamming of the front door.

“Tiffany!” father bellowed, speech slurred. I soon heard my mother running from her bedroom down the stairs, then I heard some crashing. “You stupid bitch! You fell down the stairs!”

“I’ll get you a beer,” I heard her say, tears in her throat.

“You should’ve been waiting with one.”

I kept my eyes clenched tight together as I tried desperately to fall back to sleep.

“Here you go, John,” mother mumbled.

A moment of silence passed. “This is warm.” More silence, the sound of heavy footsteps moving slowly and clumsily against hardwood floors. “Was it not in the refrigerator?”

“I-I-I—” was all I heard my mother stutter before I heard my fathers hand connect to my mother skin.

“Stupid fucking bitch!” he yelled. I heard tin rattle against the floor. “CJ!”

My heart dropped and my pulse raced as I shot out of bed and sprinted to my father wordlessly. I stood on front of him with my head low. It seemed that he had thrown the can at my mother who was cowering against the wall, covered in beer with a handprint on her cheek and a bruise developing on her forehead.

I made the mistake of glancing up at my father. He snarled before pushing me hard against the front door, my face forced against the wood, Tears were flowing freely from my eyes as I supressed the sobs threatening to erupt from my throat.

“God forbid you turn out anything like your mother,” he spat lowly in my face. I could make out my mother quietly muttering to herself in the corner as she traced droplets of alcohol that ran down the wall, her fingers trembling, her body raked with tremors.

My father grabbed my cheeks in he meaty hand and turned my face towards him. Using his free hand, he brushed a dark strand of hair from my face and let the back of his fingers brush against my neck. I shivered against his touch and he smiled a small and terrifying smile before throwing me to the floor, my head smacking the floor causing me to pass out on the floor of the entryway to our brand-new home sweet home.

[redrobin-detective]

The Long Way Around 9 (real)

Distracted by the Vikings/Eagles game I nearly forgot to post (Come on Vikings! You can come back!). We get a look at some of the other departments here and also a certain big canon event that Izuku missed by being in Gen Ed. How ever will it end? I know but you all need to come back. Also I miss-labeled the last chapter (8) as 9, my bad! 

AO3/Fanfiction

Chapter Nine: Game On

As the first week at Yuuei came to a close, Midoriya Izuku's mornings fall into a predictable pattern. Every morning his alarm goes off at 4:30 am. Now most teenagers wouldn't even think of voluntarily setting an alarm so early, much less get up when it rang, but Izuku wasn't most people.

Sure he grumbles sometimes but he's always up and out of bed soon after. He can't slack in his training even though school had started. So he dutifully begins his normal morning exercise, a 25 minute run through his city to the nearby park where he could watch the sunrise while he ran through his stances and flexibility and even improvise some fighting moves before making the 25 minute journey home.

But of course there wasn't time to relax as he needs to quickly shower to make himself presentable. Usually by the time he's done, his mother is finishing up breakfast. He'd tried to tell her that she didn't need to bother getting up so early for him but it was a useless one as she would still be up every morning cooking.

That done, he'd have enough time to grab his bag, wave his mother goodbye and run down to the station to catch his train. The ride can be long or short depending on traffic or villain attacks so he always tries to catch the early train. He usually entertains himself by reading up on the latest hero reports as he no longer had the time to chase attacks all over the city. Izuku likes to keep his mind sharp by imagining how he would have fought in any given attack.

If there were no delays, he can get to Yuuei about 30 minutes before classes started. Izuku spends some time wandering the picturesque grounds or tries to spot any pro heroes (specifically All Might who he'd still yet to see). He then sits in his classroom and do a bit of study work until everyone else arrives. Izuku always makes sure there's time to chat his friends before homeroom.

Other times, if the train is late, he'd have to run to school, sprinting past the gate, through the halls and into his classroom, hopefully before Chiura-sensei gets there. He sits down heavily in his chair, panting over his run and still finds some time to make a few comments to his friends before homeroom begins.

Most days ended up like this, began before the sun rose and continued long after the sun had set as he trained, studied and read up on the latest heroes and quirks.

It was an exhausting schedule, one that catches up with him every once in a while and forces him to take a break but overall he charges on with determination everyday with that 4:30 am alarm. Because he isn't going to reach his goal by sleeping in, by spending his free time goofing off. He's going to get there because of all the hard work and heart he puts into everything he did.

XxX

"Penny for your thoughts?" Taketsu says Monday morning, pulling Izuku out of his head. Patrick, Korudo and now Shinsou are off to the side debating something or other. "Don't mind them, they're just mad cause the hero kids get to go on some fancy field trip today while we're stuck in class. I personally don't care, so what's got you up in the clouds?" She asks, propping her elbows up on her desk.

"I'm thinking about weapons," Izuku says quietly before his brain reasserts itself and he realizes how bad that sounds. "For training! If I'm going to be a quirkless hero, I'm going to need some tools to make up for my lack of quirk. My master spent a lot of time training me with a bō but those are made of wood and won't stand up to the combative quirks."

He leans back in his chair and sighs. "Besides all that, I need to think about how I'm going to sell myself in the first place. The Sports Festival is three weeks away and I need to make an impression if I'm going to transfer."

"Heavy stuff for a Monday," Taketsu says with a smile before her face scrunches up in concentration. "Sounds like you need to talk to people in Business and Support. I hear the support kids are always eager for projects to test their mettle and people in business pretty much spends all day thinking about how to market heroes. Our first student council session was Friday and there were kids from all departments there, I can probably see what connections I can pull for you. Find anyone who's interested."

"You're the nicest, most amazing person I have ever met," Izuku says, near tears as he grins at Taketsu. "That would be so helpful, you have no idea. I can pay you back this afternoon when we train; I have some moves I think will work well for you."

"Oh, right, is that today?" Takestu winces.

"Yeah, we talked about it on Saturday, remember? You were all for it then," Izuku reminds her.

"Yeah but that was Saturday and this is today and, well, exercise just isn't my thing," she whines.

"That's why we've got to get better," Izuku answers with a smile. "Come on, you were talking about how you wanted to be a hero, a hero needs to be more than just their quirk. Besides, working out together is a fun way to keep in shape."

"Alright, alright, I'll be there," Taketsu says, holding her hands up in defeat. "I'll get you in touch with some business and support people and you teach me how to do some sick ninja moves."

"It'll take time to build up strength and technique but I'm sure you'll- uh can I help you?" Izuku begins to explain before one of their classmates, Fukuyo? Fuyono? Appears beside them. He's a little taller than Izuku with slate grey eyes and hair pulled back into a small tail with a feminine looking face and a bored expression.

"Hey sorry, I couldn't help overhear you needed someone in Business. My twin sister is in that department and, believe me, she'd have a field day making you into a hero. I could introduce you to her if you're interested. Aneko could probably hook you up with someone in Support," the boy answers with a lazy droll.

"Oh that'd be real helpful uh," Izuku winces and trails off awkwardly. He can recite interviews with All Might by heart but he doesn't know his own classmate's name?

"Fukuyo Kyoudai, I usually pal around with Kamoto, Izumo and Inukai so we haven't had a lot of opportunity to talk. I uh," Fukuyo looks away. "I think it's great you're going for Heroics. My uncle is quirkless too and it sucks how people treat you guys. If me or Aneko can help, let me know." Fukuyo says before quickly glancing around and rushing back to his seat before anyone noticed he'd been talking to the kid without a quirk.

"Psst Midoriya!" Patrick whispers from behind him. "What was that all about?"

"Networking, you wouldn't understand," Taketsu responds and Patrick starts giggling despite the lack of a joke. Korudo looks annoyed at being interrupted mid-rant and Shinsou just looks vaguely confused.

"Are you guys always like this?" the purple haired boy asks.

"Ug, welcome to my world, pass Go and get your free headache," Korudo mutters and Patrick is still laughing by the time Chiura-sensei enters the classroom.

XxX

"Aneko says you can meet her for lunch," Fukuyo says, creeping up behind them in the hallway after morning classes let out. He seems nervous, looking around again to make sure none of his friends can see him. "She says she'll be sitting near the back, by the windows. Don't worry about finding her, she'll find you," He adds quickly. "I hope she's able to help. She said she's got someone in mind from Support who can get you whatever you need."

"Thanks Fukuyo, I really appreciate it," Izuku grins. "Why don't you sit with us, it would give us a chance to get to know you."

"Yeah, I'm going to have to pass," Fuyuko says with a wince. "Kamoto is expecting me and, besides, I never eat lunch with Aneko. Her thoughts drive me crazy, bad enough I have to live with her." He waves his hand when Patrick opens his mouth to ask, "I don't have time to explain, ask Aneko."

"I don't understand why you hang out with Kamoto," Taketsu pouts. "He's such a jerk."

"Yeah but he's funny y'know and he's got this sort of magnetism about him. I don't know, he's not so bad when you get to know him." Fuyuko shrugs but even he doesn't look very convinced. His phone buzzes and he checks it with a slight grimace. "I gotta go, good luck with Aneko. Don't let her push you around too much."

"So did he tell us how to find this girl or did I miss out on that?" Shinsou asks, coming up from behind with a bored expression. "What? You're not the only one who needs to think about marketing appeal."

"Yeah, and I know next to nothing about the business kids, it could be interesting," Korudo adds.

"Where you go, we go; we're with you 100% man!" Patrick grins, leaning over Korudo and Shinsou. So the five of them enter the cafeteria, searching for their mysterious contact in Business. Patrick, taller than all of them by far, stands on his toes to try and look around. "Fuyuko does know the entire school has lunch in here at once, right? There's no way we'll be able to find this girl in this crowd."

"Hey there, you must be Kyoudai's friends!" A chipper girl says skipping up to them. Izuku blinks in surprise as the girl before them looks to be the spitting image of Fuyuko except with longer hair. If he didn't know any better, he'd say the boy had simply changed clothes. His eyes look down briefly before rushing back up to her face with a blush; she didn't even have a girl's figure. If it weren't for the hair and skirt, he'd swear she was a boy.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Fuyuko Aneko but you can call me Aneko since you're my little brother's friends and that practically makes you my friends! Come on, I've got a table and I am so ready to pick your brains. I've been needing a project to sink my teeth into," she smiles as she flips her shoulder length hair and gestures for them to follow.

"It's like someone gave Fuyuko a wig and a semblance of a personality," Korudo mumbles.

"That's not very nice, Korudo. I think Fuyuko would make a pretty girl," Patrick murmurs back even as he has to repress a smile. Shinsou, however, makes no attempts to hide his grin. Taketsu hums angrily at the three of them.

"Find a seat anywhere there's room!" Aneko says as she guides them to a table piled high with books and magazines.

"So the floor?" Shinsou responds dryly, moving aside a few books to make room. Aneko throws back her head and laughs.

"I like you, you remind me of Kyoudai. Little bro still won't sit with me, huh? Well it's probably for the best. His thoughts are so dull and slow they wear me down sometimes." She examines their blank looks.

"Our quirk is sibling telepathy. Whenever we're within 30 meters of each other, we're able to hear each other's thoughts. Convenient when playing pictionary, not so much when you're trying to study and your brother has a stupid pop song stuck in his head. Anyway," she claps her hands together.

"Back to business. I need a project to impress my teachers for the Sports Festival and it sounds like you need some advice. Which one of you is the quirkess kid who wants to be a hero?" They all look at Izuku, "You? Really? Hmm not a lot to work with but if anyone can make you a star, it'll be me. Did Kyoudai tell you our Uncle Nashi is quirkless too? I have a soft spot for your plight."

"I'm not disabled you know," Izuku says sharply because this is starting to get old. "I'm not fragile or helpless or someone to be pitied. I'm just me and just because I happen to be quirkless doesn't make me any less capable or mean I need to be treated differently." Korudo and Patrick look a little sheepish but Aneko doesn't seem bothered.

"I was wondering if you had any steel in your spine, good, you're going to need it. Other kids in Class 1-J are analyzing the hero kids and you've got some stiff competition. Acid, Steel, Half Hot Half Cold; those kids have some impressive quirks. You'll need everything you've got just to keep up."

She folds her fingers together and gives him a predatory gaze. "So tell me what you've got going for you. Please don't be shy; modesty only works for clothing sizes and feminine products."

"O-oh, okay," Izuku stammers out.

So Izuku describes his greatest strengths: his martial arts, his analytical skills and his adaptability even as his friends chimed in with a few others he hadn't considered: his drive, his compassion, his resilience and his tendency to be underestimated by just about everyone. Aneko hums, alternating between talking, taking notes and typing furiously on her phone, appearing to have multiple conversations at once. It was dizzying just watching her, no wonder Fuyuko needed a break.

"Hmm, ok, I can make this work. Everyone likes a good underdog story, I'll put together a profile but here's my main advice for you, quirkless boy." She puts down her phone and leans forward with a serious expression.

"The number of transfers to Heroics is astronomically low and Yuuei just let quirkless students into the school a few years ago so if you're going to do this, you need to go all the way. You seem kind of shy which is cute and has its own appeal but it's not going to win you any medals, not when you're up against people with downright terrifying quirks. You need to make yourself stand out as much as possible and, more importantly, you need to win. Got it?"

"I got it, thanks," Izuku says thoughtfully. He'd thought as much but having it laid out so plainly really put things into focus. He's not really a flashy kind of person but he's sure he can come up with something.

"What do you need from Support?" Aneko asks, picking her phone back up and going right back to texting. "I'm assuming some equipment. Since the General, Support and Business aren't held to the same standards as Heroics, they're allowed to use their gear during the Sports Festival. That's less than a month away so you'll need to get your things together now."

"Y-yeah," Izuku nods, reaching into his bag and pulling out his notes. "I need a couple of things. I need a bō staff, like in martial arts but I need it to be durable enough to stand up against whatever quirks people can throw at me. Also I'll need some lightweight, flexible protection, mostly gloves and boots. At some point later, I'd love a belt of sorts to keep things like smoke bombs and other things in but I don't think I'll really need that right now. Maybe if I get into Heroics," he explains as he flips his notebook around and shows Aneko.

"Uh huh, I see," she says, briefly glancing at the page before looking back at her phone. "Ok, I know a girl in Support who might be able to help you out. She usually likes things with a little more flourish but she owes me 'cause I didn't rat on her when I caught her trying to uh improve the school's ventilation system," Aneko continues, still typing quickly. "I'm sending her your info to see if she's interested. Anyone else here want to be a hero? Don't be shy now."

"Uh," Korudo begins.

"I'm going to transfer to one of the hero classes," Shinsou begins. "I have a brainwashing quirk and I'm not afraid to do whatever is necessary to get there."

"Oh you're spunky, I like it, you and me are going to talk some more," Aneko grins at Shinsou. "And you, my dear," she adds, pointing to Izuku. "Are going to meet Hatsume Mei. I hope you got your fill of lunch 'cause you're going to be spending the rest of the period in the student workshop going over your blueprints. Try not to die."

"I'm sorry, what?" Izuku asks.

"Business Girl! Where's my victim? You said he was plain but they all look plain to me!" A busty pink haired girl says popping behind Aneko, pushing up some enormous goggles off her dirt stained face. She smells vaguely of smoke and it'ss similar enough to Kacchan that it puts Izuku a bit on edge. "I have a couple of projects going on now but I have 20 minutes with nothing to do so I might as take this on. It sounds a bit boring but, who knows, it might end up being interesting!" Izuku is beginning to wonder if this was a good idea.

"It's him," Taketsu says, gesturing to him and completely throwing him under the bus. "Have fun; bring him back in one piece. He's kind of the glue holding our little group together."

"Oh, you are so going to get it when we train this afternoon," Izuku whispers as he's bodily hauled out of his chair and dragged away.

"That's only if you come back," Taketsu says with a cheekily little wave. Patrick and Korudo give him a solemn look as if he were going off to a firing squad instead of a consult.

Working with Hatsume doesn't end up being as awful as he'd initially feared. Her workshop was chaotic and cluttered but she navigated around all the bits of junk and scrap with ease. It was clear she was very dedicated; someone who put everything she had into her work. Izuku found himself liking that about her and her natural enthusiasm for her craft made him more excited discussing his ideas.

He told her what he was looking for her, what kind of measurements and material, and she chimed in with some good points for improvement. Well, some of them were good. He doesn't care how cool they looked, he was not adding rocket thrusters to his boots. When the warning bell rang for afternoon classes, he was almost surprised at how fast the time had gone by. He leaves her with his phone number and the assurance that he'd get in contact with her if he had any other ideas.

Izuku jogs back to class feeling happy and light; this was just another step forward towards his goal. He slides into his desk just before the final bell rings. Talking to the others while their teacher got things ready, it seems the rest of lunch had gone well with Aneko. She was going to put together a profile for both him and Shinsou on how to improve their image for the Festival. The teacher clears their throat and class begins.

The majority of fifth period is spent having conversations via eyebrow with his friends. He feels a little bit bad for not paying attention but on the other hand, friends are still something of a novelty so he feels he's allowed to enjoy it. Besides, he's doing pretty well in history. Patrick, completely through facial expressions, manages to convey what he thinks about Korudo's latest comment when a cell phone rings loudly near the end of class.

"Excuse me class, I'm sorry, I should take this. Please be quiet, we'll resume in just a moment." The teacher flushes as she answers the phone. As soon as she turns, the entire class is laughing and talking with each other, Izuku and his friends included.

"Dude I am so pumped for this afternoon," Patrick says, throwing a few punches. "You were so awesome the other day in gym; I can't wait until I can do things like that."

"Things like that take time," Shinsou adds softly. "But I am interested in-"

"Will you be quiet," Their teacher hisses suddenly with startling severity that leaves everyone silent. "This is serious, I need to hear this." She turns her back again to the now silent classroom. "No, I can't believe that, on our campus? That's terrible, was anyone hurt? Oh my, okay. Yes, I'll take care of the students. Keep me informed."

She hangs up and spends an extra few seconds staring at her phone, as if she needs to insert the new information into her world view. "Class, I'm afraid something terrible has happened. I don't have all the details but it seems that villains have attacked the USJ facility where one of the hero classes and their teachers were training this afternoon. It looks like it was a deliberate attack. Your homeroom teacher is going to come back in to dismiss you all, the school is being evacuated."

Izuku feels like the floor has dropped out underneath him. Villains openly attacking Yuuei? It was unheard of but the implications are terrifying. Had anyone been hurt? He freezes, wait which hero class was at USJ today? Which class was Kacchan in?

He dives for his phone in his bag and quickly shoots off a message to Kacchan. He's had the same phone since they were in middle school so he's sure it's the same number. He'd do anything, anything, to get an angry text telling him to fuck off. Instead the lonely text sits there, with no indication of being read or responded to.

Chiura-sensei swiftly enters the classroom a few moments later, his face as grim and menacing as Izuku has ever seen it while their history professor rushes out.

"So you've all heard the news; USJ, one of our training facilities, was attacked this afternoon by a large group of villains. Most of the school's heroes are now on site processing the captured villains. As of right now, the situation is being contained. No word yet on who did this or if the leaders were able to be taken or not. As a measure of caution, we will be waiting until we have more some heroes back on campus before sending you all home."

"What class was attacked? Was anyone hurt?" Izuku demands, not even bothering to raise his hand.

"It was 1-A, the other hero class was scheduled to be there tomorrow but that's obviously not going to happen now. Right now, the only confirmed injuries are the pros who were there during the incident. They were injured severely enough to require care in a hospital." Sensei pauses, "as I said, we don't know a lot right now but it seems there were minor injuries among the students too." Izuku thinks he's going to be sick, he's pretty sure Kacchan was in 1-A.

"We have to do something, we can't just sit here," Izuku blurts out again. There's static under his skin and can feel himself begin to hyperventilate. He thinks of Kacchan being buried in sludge, of how afraid he'd looked as he suffocated. He thinks of his friend suffering like that again and, maybe this time, someone didn't get to him in time.

"Calm down, Midoriya," Sensei says so forcefully that Izuku's vision comes back into focus. "I respect your feelings but you are a student and it is our job to protect you, right here and right now. I understand this is very distressing for all of you but I need you to conduct yourself in a manner befitting Yuuei students."

Izuku's fists are shaking on his desk but he forces himself to keep quiet. "We're waiting for the heroes to come back and give us the all clear, then we'll be letting you go. All of you will go straight home and stay there. Please walk in pairs if you can," Sensei continues.

"What about tomorrow? Will there be class?" Motome asks.

"There's no official word yet but I'm betting school will be closed tomorrow, but don't use that as an excuse to slack off. Now more than ever, Japan needs to see Yuuei as a symbol of strength and resilience. It's up to all of you to represent the values of this institution." Chiura-sensei checks his phone. "Alright, grab your things and line up quietly. Looks like they're beginning evacuation procedures. We may run into some of the pros and hero students but please control your curiosity, they've been through hell today."

The walk through the hallways is silent and painfully tense. A couple of the other classes are making their own precession, just as sullen and silent. Yuuei is usually so loud and now it feels like a tomb. Izuku thinks he's going to explode with all the anxiety building up inside of him; he has his phone in one hand in the hopes that Kacchan will get back to him.

If the inside of Yuuei was like a tomb, the outside looked like a warzone. There are police and heroes everywhere. Izuku can't even keep track of them all as they bustle back and forth, dragging off villains and investigating the grounds. Above them, he can hear a helicopter or two circling the premises. If his mom is watching this on TV, she's got to be scared to death. Izuku needs to check in with her once he finds out about Kacchan.

He notes a few battered but ultimately unharmed hero kids sitting on the front lawn being looked over by Blood King. Kacchan isn't among them. Izuku checks his phone again, shoots off another message before shoving the device in his pocket.

"Keep back everyone, we're bringing in the injured," Present Mic screeches loudly. Izuku's heartrate picks up as he catches sight of a couple of stretchers being pulled out of an ambulance. "Take the kid to recovery room A, we also need someone to contact his parents. The other guy goes straight to Recovery Girl's office, he's uh a special patient." The Voice Hero continues on in a quieter tone.

The next few seconds seem to slow down to a crawl for Izuku. He's distracted, for a moment, by the hustle around him that he almost misses the boy being carried away on the stretcher. His breath catches in his throat as he catches sight of the prone figure. He may be bloodied and wearing a costume, but Izuku would recognize that spikey blond hair anywhere.

"Kacchan!" He shouts and, just like before, he runs toward his childhood friend without a second thought.

"Midoriya, back in line right now!" Sensei shouts in the background but Izuku's entire world has narrowed down to Kacchan's bruised and bloodied face, his expression almost soft in unconsciousness. There's a couple of hands trying to pull him back but Izuku struggles in the hold.

"Please sir, I know him!" Izuku shouts back, "He's a- we live near each other. I know his parents, I can contact them to let them know what happened, I can keep watch over him. Please, you can't make me leave him. I won't leave him!" Izuku says as he gives his teacher a look that says he'd need to be dragged back into line.

It's a dangerous game he's playing and yet he can't bring himself to care. "I don't care if I get punished but you can't let him be alone at a time like this," Izuku pleads.

"It's okay, Yamada, you can let him go," Chiura-sensei says quietly and Present Mic releases him, letting Izuku get closer to Kacchan's stretcher. He grabs the sides in case they tried to pull him away again.

"Be quiet and stay out of the way," Sensei hisses back in a way that promises there will be a reckoning later. "If I hear that you so much as breathed wrong, you are out of there and out of this school. Do you understand me, Midoriya?" The threat hangs heavy in the air but Izuku has no time to be concerned for himself when Kacchan could be dying right now.

"Yes Sensei," he nods back as he jogs to keep up with the medics, searching Kacchan's face for some sign that he'll be okay.

"You're a brave kid but I admire your spirit," Present Mic says. "Don't worry, your friend is going to be just fine. He's pretty banged up now but Recovery Girl is one of the best docs around." Izuku swallows the lump in his throat, his hand lightly gripping the side of the stretcher near his friend's face.

He's not sure what the world is coming to, where Yuuei of all places would be openly attacked in such a manner and Kacchan of all people could be hurt. Izuku closes his eyes and fights back tears, all he knows is whatever is coming in the future, he's going to face it head on and try to be prepared for whatever storm is coming.

[hihiyas]

Little of Your Love (Enjonine Fake Relationship AU)

Alternate Title:  5 Times Enjolras and Éponine pretended to be a couple (+1 time they did not have to)

For @textsfromumbridge on the occasion of her birthday last month. (I’m so late, sorry babe!)

Thanks to @lilyismilesaway, @astoryinred, and @kylorenvevo for letting me pick their brains while I wrote this!

Also posted in: AO3 & FF.NET

1. Enjolras

He blamed rom-coms and heteronormativity, to be honest. Why couldn’t two people of different genders hang out without people just assuming something was going on? So what if they were usually seen together? They were friends, of a sort. It just so happened that they inhabited intersecting friend groups, had some similar interests, and therefore spent a lot of time together.

And besides, he had Patria to pour his passions into, and she, well. Isn’t she still crushing on Pontmercy?

Seriously, he wouldn’t even be thinking about relationships if not for the incident with that chit who tried to flirt with him the other day.

He had been sitting alone at a jam-packed Cafe Musain, typing up a scathing response to an inane article about Syrian refugees. He was on a roll too, when someone sits on the opposite side of his table.

“Hi, Gab-”

“Enjolras. I go by Enjolras,” he interrupted.

“Oh! Sorry, Enjolras then. What are you working on?”

“It’s a rebuttal on this stupid op-ed about the Syrian refugee crisis,” he began to type again, missing the glazed look on the girl’s face.

“That’s, er, interesting?”

“Would you like to know more about the subject? We’re having a talk tomorrow at the student council lounge on how we can mobilize the student body to help the refugees. We even invited a resource person coming from Médecins Sans Frontières,” he says, finally tearing his eyes from his laptop to look her in the face.

“Oh, that’s nice. Are you also working on our class assignment in Contemporary History? Do you want to maybe work together?” she asked. She shyly tucked her hair behind an ear and leaned towards him.

He pulled back immediately. “Sorry, uh, I’m waiting for someone right now, uh, pardon, what was your name again?”

“Oh, it’s Marg-”

“Éponine! Here!” he loudly waved over the olive-skinned girl, who was holding a tray and an amused look.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

“This is a classmate of mine, Margaux,” he said, nodding to the smitten girl who was occupying his table and pleading with his eyes for Éponine to intercede.

So she did. By sitting on his lap.

That was not what Enjolras had in mind. At all.

(But then again, her lithe figure on his lap wasn’t that bad? He found the sensation more pleasant than disconcerting. Which was something to consult with Combeferre once he got here.)

“Actually, it’s Margaret,” his classmate corrected. She looked sheepish at the casual way Éponine lounged and his reddening cheeks. “I didn’t know you were with Éponine. I’m sorry for bothering you,” the girl squeaked and bade them a hasty goodbye.

The two observed the girl as she all but ran away from the Musain. A beat later, Éponine slid off his lap and sat on the vacated chair.

“…Did you just use me to scare off your fangirl?”

“I’ll buy you lunch everyday for a week if you promise not to tell the guys.”

“Deal.”

2. Éponine

“Did he break into hives?” Cosette wondered after Éponine finished talking. They had been spending Tuesday afternoon working on their respective homework when she had innocuously inquired, “So, what’s new with you?”

Obviously, Éponine’s “I sat on Enjolras’ lap and survived” quip warranted a longer explanation. Bored with school work, she complied and launched a retelling of her weirdest interaction yet with the so-called Marble Man. It was a welcome respite from math equations.

“He’s not exactly allergic to other humans, ya know.”

“True, he did shake my hands the day Marius introduced him to me.” A beat later, Cosette had a different question. “Did he, you know…” she trailed off and made a vaguely vulgar hand gesture.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD! WHAT?? NO!” Éponine couldn’t help yelp out loud at the suggestion.

“So why is he bribing you with food?”

“Because he’s embarrassed about needing help with his admirers? I dunno. I’m just happy to get free food,” she shrugged.

Cosette tilted her head, considering her friend’s reasoning. It was a fact that Enjolras was one of the more popular students in their university. He was handsome, smart, and charming. Usually unflappable too, except when flirted at, apparently.

The subject dropped, the two roommates continued working on their school work. They read and wrote in silence, only to be interrupted again when Marius Pontmercy came knocking on their door.

“Oh, hi Babe!” greeted Cosette as she let him in.

He smiled and chastely kissed his girlfriend on the cheek. “Hey, Babe. Missed you today. Done with your paper?”

Cosette’s dark blonde ponytail swished as she shook her hair. “Not yet,” she replied as she walked back to their dining area.

“Hey, ‘Ponine!” Marius nodded to the girl frowning at her book.

She barely waved in reply, engrossed with her homework but failing to figure it out. Math really wasn’t her forte.

He approached the dining table where the two had camped out with their books and laptops. “Anyway, I dropped by to ask you for a huge favor. Are you doing anything on Friday?”

“What’s happening on Friday? Are you bailing out on our date?” Cosette frowned.

“No! But, see, my cousin Theodule is coming to town for a few days. I kind of promised Grandfather I’d take care of him.”

“So you’re dumping your cousin on me,” Éponine guessed as she balled up another scratch paper.

“Not exactly? He kind of invited himself to our dinner. I was thinking maybe you could come with us so he’s not a third wheel? And maybe talk to him a little?”

Éponine didn’t even look up to shoot him down.“Sorry, busy that night.”

“I’m buying!” bargained Marius. “Just spend two hours with us. And I know you don’t have a shift on Friday at the Corinthe. I asked ‘Chetta.”

“Still busy.”

“Come on, ‘Ponine! Pleeease?”

“Can’t. Have prior plans before you arrived.”

“With??”

“I already have a date, okay!” she blurted the first excuse she could think of.

“With whom?” Marius asked, his tone a little too incredulous that Éponine was a bit offended. She’s not completely undateable, is she?

“She’s going out with Enjolras!” Cosette answered, saving Éponine the trouble of conjuring an imaginary boyfriend. At least, Enjolras was a live, human boy and was an actual friend (!) of Éponine. It’s just that the boyfriend part that was laughably untrue.

At least it wasn’t Montparnasse, right?

Marius, mind blown by Cosette’s declaration, just went, “Whaaaa?”

Éponine thought fast, “It’s new, okay? Barely started. So shut up about it.”

“Huh, and I thought it was just rumors about you guys.”

Rumors? Already? Éponine internally groaned. You sit on a guys lap once…

Marius continued, “I guess you really like him then, huh? Well, I’m happy for you guys! Do I get to do the shovel talk?”

“Babe, that’s so sexist and demeaning. And also: no,” Cosette interjected.

“Sorry. I’m just so excited for Éponine and Enjolras! It’s not an obvious pairing but I think you two would be good together.”

Éponine knitted her brows. “Really?”

“Well, you’re both passionate and outspoken, and when you care about something, you both show it. I guess all that tension when you two argue at the Amis’ meetings is actually attraction, huh?”

“Sure, let’s go with that,” she said before suggesting that maybe he could introduce Theodule to some of the more sociable Amis and ask them to distract his cousin on Friday instead.

Placated and distracted by a new idea with what to do with his cousin, Marius finally left her alone so she could continue with Trigonometry.

(Not that she could get his words out of her head long enough to concentrate.

Argh. Stupid Marius!)

3. Enjolras

By the end of the second week after the lap-sitting incident, the entire campus knew about it. Barely a month after that day, everyone knew that Enjolras was off-limits. What people took as fact and what was true, however, were two different things.

Not that Enjolras was about to clarify the nature of his relationship with one Éponine Thenardier. To his credit, he did attempt to, when Bossuet teased him about it. His friend just smirked and said, “Good friends? Uh huh, is that what you’re calling it now?”

Nevertheless, he figured it was better not to comment about it anymore. For one, it was embarrassing to even have to publicly dispel rumors about his personal life. Why did people care so much about who he dated? He didn’t understand it.

Secondly, he also thought that people might think badly about Éponine if he said it anything at this point. People might think she was a liar or a wanton slut who was trying to ensnare him or something. Like she wasn’t a smart, beautiful, independent woman who could date whoever she cared to.

Thirdly, it didn’t hurt that people had started to back off from flirting with him. He had never felt comfortable with it (and the accompanying fuss of turning down dates and dashing hopes) so it was such a relief not to have that kind of attention on him. He even got more things done now that people thought he’s dating Éponine.Prospective admirers apparently didn’t want to face his pseudo girlfriend’s infamous temper if they tried to catch his eye.

Speaking of her temper, he wondered why she hadn’t dispelled the rumors herself. What could she possibly benefit from effectively letting him using her as a ruse? Did she not care that people had assumed wrong about their friendship? In any case, he felt gratitude for her playing along and some guilt for reaping all the rewards of their fake relationship that he ended up treating her with food whenever they were together.

Like now.

They sat together in the usual Amis table at the cafe on a quiet Friday afternoon. He is reviewing his notes as he waited for Feuilly with their newly printed protest flyers while Éponine was working on equations Combeferre had left her as tutorial material. They shared a plateful of cookies as they worked silently on their separate projects. It was nice to just sit with someone and not talk, once in awhile. It’s peaceful.

Of course, that’s when Courfeyrac decided to disrupt the quiet.

“HELLO, LOVEBIRDS!”

Enjolras rolled his eyes at the epithet while Éponine, startled from her work, made a disgruntled face. “Seriously, Courfeyrac?”

“Please, you guys love me. Well, not in the way you two looooove each other, but you do,” he winked.

“No we don’t,” the couple in question declared in unison.

“Too soon?”

Enjolras, who had flushed red at the teasing, flatly said, “You’re hopeless.”

His friend childishly stuck his tongue out in reply. “Anyway, I’m here because you two suck at answering your phones. Are you going  tomorrow night or what?”

“To what again?” Éponine asked.

“The fundraiser dinner with my fraternity? Everybody else is busy but I need at least two other people to go with me. There’s a buffet and an open bar,” enticed Courfeyrac.

The two glanced at each other with identical expressions of distaste. A beat later, they replied, “Sorry, date night.”

“Come on, there will be lots of alumni coming and you can start building connections for law school, Enjolras!”

He considered this until he remembered something. “Does this mean Felix Tholomyes is going to be there? Isn’t that scumbag your fraternity’s alumni president?”

“Yes, but-”

He shook his head. “Then, no. I might just start a fight and ruin my good suit.”

“And besides, I can’t afford your fancy fundraiser tickets, Courfeyrac,” added Éponine.

“Enjolras can spring for you! Come on, guys, you’re my only hope. Everybody else won’t go with me! Cosette said she’s protesting her bio-dad’s presence, so of course, Marius won’t go too. Bossuet is leaving for a weekend trip with Joly and ‘Chetta tonight. Bahorel just laughed at my face,” their friend pleaded and pouted.

“Sorry, you’re on your own,” Éponine shrugged.

“Hmp, I need better friends,” Courfeyrac groused. He tried again to appeal to Enjolras but the other man shot him down. Desperate for someone, anyone really, to come with him to the fundraiser, he left the two to pester classmates and friends from his other school organizations.

Enjolras sighed and massaged his temples as Courfeyrac walked out while rapidly firing text messages. Sometimes, his friend’s exuberance gave him headaches. “Argh, sorry about that.”

Éponine merely rolled her eyes. “We both wanted an excuse. It’ll be alright. Courf’s just a  drama queen.”

“Did you have plans tomorrow?”

“Catching up on Game of Thrones.”

“But it’s such a problematic series!”

They ended up good-naturedly arguing all afternoon until Feuilly showed up.

4. Éponine

It was a slow night at the Corinthe, a fact that Éponine was grateful for. Sure, there were fewer tips, but a smaller crowd meant she won’t be dead tired for her 9 AM class the next day. She wiped down the bar for the nth time and glanced at the clock. Only 30 minutes left before she could go home and collapse on her bed.

The downside to a relatively quiet shift, however, was that it left Éponine alone enough for her mind to wander. And there was one blond pre-law student that seemed to occupy her thoughts more and more these days.

Enjolras. It was funny how their friendship had steadily become closer due to the misconception that they were together romantically. At first, it had been a quick excuse to get away from undesirable social engagements. By unspoken agreement, they had maintained the ruse in public: sitting next to each other all the time, eating meals together at least twice a week, and even texting each other their daily schedules just in case one of them needed to cover for the other. At this point, Éponine figured that if not for the lack of the more physical aspects of a romantic relationship, they were practically dating for real.

“Except, not really, Éponine. Don’t forget,” she muttered.

But sometimes, Enjolras made it hard to remember how this was all pretend. Once in awhile, he would say or do something really sweet, like casually draping his coat over her shoulders just because she felt a little chilly or walking her back to her apartment after a shift. Or he’d gaze at her with such an intensity that it took her breath away. Sometimes, Éponine could swear he really did like her. Maybe.

This whole situation was becoming even more confusing than trigonometric identities.

“So, you've moved on to the next one, huh?” a bitter voice derailed her train of thought.

“‘Parnasse.”

The dark-haired man nodded and ordered his usual, a rum and coke. “Heard you have a new boy, Enjolras, was it? Didn’t think you liked blonds.”

She turned her back on him as she fixed his drink. “What’s it to you?”

Montparnasse snorted inelegantly. “Come on, ‘Ponine. You used to make fun of him and his friends. Called them idealistic idiots, remember? And now you’re all over their leader? Why, is it because he’s fucking rich, is that it? You’re not so different from your old man.”

Éponine ignored the jab at her. “He might be an idealistic idiot but at least he actually tries to affect change. At least they’re all doing some good.”

“Wow, look at you defending his honor! You really like that Enjolras, huh? Wonder how you’d still like him if I cut Blondie’s pretty face.”

She glared and practically growled, “You even breathe wrong in his direction, I swear, ‘Parnasse, I’ll make you regret it.”

He stated, before laughing out loud. “Oh, you sweet little girl. I can’t believe I’ve seen the day.”

“What?” she demanded.

“You’re in love! Ha, you’re actually in love with this guy! That’s so funny.”

Montparnasse downed his drink and left a twenty to a stunned Éponine.

5. Enjolras

If the story of Enjolras and Éponine being a couple had spread like wildfire on campus, the rumor that they had broken up could be described as a flash flood. Devastating and utterly unexpected.

Hell, even Enjolras was caught unawares.

He couldn’t pinpoint what exactly happened but Éponine started to avoid him. Oh, she was still quick to laugh and talk to him when their friends are around, but the moment they were gone, she would make excuses and leave him as soon as humanly possible. She’d claim school work, or her job at the Corinthe for her suddenly very busy schedule.

Gone too were the emoji-filled text messages from her. It used to annoy him, the way she’d use emojis as punctuation. But now that all he got were late, sporadic and terse responses, he missed them.

He missed her.

Confused and upset, he showed up at Combeferre’s apartment.

“Okay, what’s wrong with you?”

“I think my fake girlfriend is ghosting me and I have no idea why.”

His best friend blinked slowly, before opening his door wide open. “I understood all those words individually, but you made no sense. At all.”

He lied down on Combeferre’s couch, clutching a throw pillow, and rambled for an hour. How Éponine had rescued him from a classmate’s flirtation and how that had somehow snowballed into a rumor that they were actually dating. How they both had taken advantage of the rumor to get out of social engagements, and how that joke turned their friendship deeper. Until two weeks ago.

“I’m pretty sure she’s avoiding to be alone with me like she can’t stand to be near me. I don’t understand at all! Did I do anything wrong? I cannot figure it out,” Enjolras said.

Combeferre rubbed his temple, and replied,“Seems to me that you two need to talk.”

“How does one talk to somebody who’s running away from you the moment she sees you though?”

“You got me there. I do have one question though.”

“What is it?”

“Is she really your fake girlfriend though? Because you two looked like the real thing to me.”

Enjolras distracted himself from the Éponine Situation. There was too much to do, after all than to pine for someone who hated him. Or something. Did she really hate him? Was he just overreacting because of his apparent feelings? He still didn’t know what to think about Éponine’s strange disappearing act.

In any case, there was the refugee fundraising to do. All the Amis were participating: Bahorel had his bake sale, Feuilly and Grantaire had a temporary tattoo and face paint booth, Joly and Bossuet manned a juice bar, and Jehan had his palm reading sessions. And the Amis’ triumvirate of leaders?

A stupid kissing booth.

It was, of course, Courfeyrac’s idea, but all three of them were to take 2-hour shifts at the booth. As head of the club (and mostly to get it over with), Enjolras went first. He was at the one hour mark of his shift and already the line of giggling girls and boys were snaking around the quad.

He sighed and thought about the 100 plus dollars he had already made kissing random strangers on the cheek. Even the other Amis joined in and fell in line to get a kiss from their Chief for a laugh. At least this endeavor was going to raise them a tidy sum.

“A dollar for a kiss?” A raspy voice interrupted his thoughts.

He blinked. Éponine Thenardier appeared before him like a vision in a black tee and ripped jeans. He cleared his throat. “Yes, it’s for a good cause.”

“You don’t look like you’re having fun,” she observed.

“But of course, I’m exactly the type who would enjoy this,” he deadpanned.

“Close your eyes and think of the refugees, I guess,” she quipped.

"Glad you’re laughing it all up at my expense.”

“It’s been fun,” she shrugged before plopping a crumpled fiver on the booth table and grabbing Enjolras by the hair.

He gasped and closed his eyes, all senses tingling at the pressure of Éponine’s mouth on his. She started to pull back but he chased her lips with a kiss of his own and held her close. He dimly heard a thrilled “aww!” and a chorus of disappointed noises in the background, but he couldn’t care less. The world has shrunk into this moment, into this kiss.

If not for the need for air, Enjolras thought he could stay there kissing Éponine forever. Alas, reality intruded and left them both breathing quite heavily.

“Um, hello,” he shyly greeted, cheeks pink and a smile blossoming on his lips.

“Damn, where did you learn to kiss like that?” the girl on his arms blurted out.

“I– That’s the first time I really kissed anyone?”

Éponine shot him an incredulous look, then flipped the On-Duty sign behind him.

“Sorry, guys, my boyfriend and I have to discuss something,” she announced to the line of gawking students, before motioning for Enjolras to follow her.

(+1. Éponine)

Éponine’s words rang inside her head as she and Enjolras walked away from the quadrangle to the Amis’ club room. Her boyfriend, she had called him. Not quite true, was It?

Except, it wasn’t exactly a lie either.

“Are you okay? You got me worried for the past few days,” he said the moment they reached the empty club room.

“Yes- Well, no. Not exactly,” she hesitated. See, I think I’m in love with you, she did not say.

“Anything I can do to help?”

This was the problem with falling in love with this man, wasn’t it? Here she was, ignoring and probably confusing the hell out of him, and still, he wanted to help her. “You’re entirely too good to be true,” she whispered.

“I’m not,” he protested. “If I was, you wouldn’t have spent two weeks avoiding me whenever possible. Which, by the way, did I do anything wrong?” he asked, earnest concern written plainly on his handsome face.

She looked down at her hands and shook her head. “No, no. It’s all me. I’m sorry I made you think you did something wrong. I had something I needed to figure out. You, you were perfect. Too perfect, even.”

“Oh.” He was silent for a while, obviously repeating her words in his head and trying to parse her meaning. “What do you mean, ‘too perfect?’” He sighed, “I swear if you’re gonna compare me to some Greek god–”

“No, no!” she interrupted. Éponine knew how much he hated those allusions about being cut from marble or being called ‘Apollo’ by Grantaire. “It’s just that you played your part so perfectly, I had to get away before I thought this was all real.”

Enjolras looked stunned at her admission. Oh, she knew this was a bad idea. That kiss, though. It made her hope. It made her think she wasn’t the only one in this, but, oh, she was reading into the situation again, wasn’t she?

“Shit, um, forget I said anything. I don’t want to lose our friendship, okay? We can, I dunno, stage a breakup and we’ll tell people we decided to just be friends. And we’ll never ever talk about this, okay?”

Enjolras blinked, and she sighed, heart breaking neatly in half. Great, she broke his brain.

“Okay, I’ll go now. Tomorrow, we can pretend this never happened, okay? Okay,” Éponine said. She turned around, willing her shoulders not to shake as she tried and failed to contain her tears. Damn, her rep’s all ruined now if someone saw her cry.

“W-wait,” he stammered, catching her arm and neatly spinning her into his embrace. “Please, don’t go again. You drove me crazy the last time you ran away.”

It was Éponine’s turn to be stunned silent by Enjolras’ admission. She hid her face, sobbing into her hands, while he spoke, running his hand over her tumbled hair.

“In all honesty, I don’t even know when it stopped feeling like we were just pretending. And then you started to pull away, and I didn’t know what I did wrong. I thought, did I go too far? Did this pretend relationship had gone too far?And I thought, why didn’t you tell me? And I felt so guilty that I’ve driven one of my best friends away. And then you just appeared and you kissed me and, God, Éponine, I don’t want to be just friends. And I’m so sick of playing pretend.” All his jumbled thoughts came tumbling down from his lips, and he could only hope she would understand what he was trying to say. He gently pulled her hands away from her face and dabbed her tears away with his handkerchief. “Please don’t cry, Éponine. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I love you, please stop crying.”

The declaration just made her cry louder as she embraced him. After a few minutes, her tears stopped and she hiccuped into his shoulder. “We’re a couple of morons, aren’t we?”

“But a couple, right?” he asked, half in hope, and half-jokingly as he continued to stroke her hair.

“Yeah, okay,” she agreed.

They remained embracing for a long time.

[femster]

Guys its that time of the year again. School *fireworks go off*. Well I went shopping people and your girl hit it good so lets begin. This is my first long post forgive an problems or inform me so I can edit.

Locker and my Bag

So this year I got a Hilfiger back at winners and it was only $25 and was big enough to hold all my supplies so that should be important when buying a school bag.

I also have a laptop back from Staples (buts its being shipped

Something I would recommend would be locker supplies;  magnetic mirror cups and whiteboards and such they’re like $2 each at dollarama 

I have a P.E (Phys Ed) which has gym clothes and extra clothes

General

4 folders~ Green for Day 1, Blue for day 2. I go to a non semestered school so 4 subjects on 1 day and 4 the next. I find this way easier to manage my workload instead of having everything in 1. 1 light green binder is for my homework which I take with to every class anything in that binder, needs to be done. 1 purple floppy binder for extra curricular activities and it has 2 sections 1 for clubs, the other for clubs.

8 college ruled 300 paged notebooks (which will hopefully last all year). 1 for every class.

I have 1 planner which totally helps everything i do because it has the written date for every event, test or assignment due. I use this because I never listen to my phone app.

I have 4 pencil cases actually. 1 for day 1 which has my math set and other things i’ll need for day 1 classes and the 2nd is for day 2 classes. Th 3rd has my high lighters and coloured pens and pencils, I take this to all my classes. The last is just for extra stuff and it stays in my locker.

400 sheets of extra paper which i split between all my folders.

Math set wasn’t cheap but necessary.

I bought a plastic wallets to put my notes in so my tears role off and doesn’t stain my hard work

Writing Utensils

Pack of 10 highlighters they were only $10 and they’re scented which which was way cheaper than the sharpie pack of 10 for $20

Pack of multi-coloured ballpoint pens~ notes

Pack of blue and black pens

Mechanical pencils and refills

Colouring pencils ~art

2 different packs of fine tipped markers (Both packs were very pretty and were calling me) ~notes

Pencils normal boring one i think i’ll paint them 

Extra stuff

rubber( erasers ), sharpener, small hole puncher and stapler.

I bought a pack of rainbow small and big paper clips and they are beautiful and were only $2 yyyyyaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyy.

Flash/ Index cards 4 colours in a set (total win)

I bought 2 sets of post its and they are amazing. The first 1 is like tags and they are coloured but see through so i can use it to cover important stuff in books I can’t highlight in. The 2nd is so precious it’s in a little folder and everything and is my new prized possession.

Correction fluid and tape will save you from embarrassing written mistakes. 

Tape and (multicoloured neon) Rubber bands. These 2 right here will be your savior, you have no idea how many ‘falling apart projects’ I’ve had and these 2 saved me.

Book-rings are really cool they are basically binder rings. I use them to collect random paper and to make booklets of stuff i need to study.

64GB flash drive, must I say more.

Something I would highly recommend  if you have different uniforms for different sports teams is to have a different bag per team; so swim team would have your towel, swim suit and googles e.g.

Thanks for reading

Sorry the pictures aren’t good I tried

[justaboywithaonemanshow]

My first Ed Sheeran Concert / Argentina / May 2017

I know nobody reads my blog and I’ve got literally 5 followers and this is going to be a long post but I really need to write this down ❤️

So last Saturday was my first ever Ed Sheeran show (and first ever proper concert experience) and I’ve got to say...IT WAS THE BEST FUCKING DAY OF MY ENTIRE LIFE!!! I’ve lived a pretty decent amount of years and had experienced some beautiful, unique things through out my time on earth but OH MY GOD THIS WAS SO AMAZING, I just can’t get over it, it’s been a week and I’m still super excited about it (I’m also a pain in the ass for everyone who knows me because I just can’t shut up, I’ve literally been talking about it non stop since Saturday) 

I arrived to La Plata at 10:30 am, I live in a small town 620 miles away from it, on the northeast of the country so I had to take a really really REALLY long 13 hour bus ride to get there. I rushed to the hotel, quickly changed my clothes and went to the stadium. My cousin/god-daughter was already queuing with her older brother who was saving my spot. All this madness actually started because of her, in September she’s turning 15 and when the tour dates were released I knew this was the most perfect present for her (she loves Ed). Long story short, at first I wasn’t going with her, her brother was (he’s not keen on Ed), I had to work plus I’m doing a master’s degree that should be finished by the end of may so things were complicated, but then I though fuck it, you only live once! and decided to join her. By the end of march I surprised her with the tickets (which I kept secret for a whole month) and our Ed Sheeran journey began.

I got to the stadium at 11:30am, we had general admision ticket (the front section) so we had to queue to get good spots, when I arrived there were like two blocks of people queuing, some of them arrived on Tuesday and were camping outside for 3 days! We started chatting with some girls who were next to us and spend the whole afternoon together, we were like 6 girls and a dad, laughing and having fun, talking about Ed and stuff, it was so nice to get to know them ❤️ We even heard Ed doing the soundcheck and started screaming like maniacs (Argentinean people scream a lot hahaha)

By 4pm the queue started moving and we were slowly entering the stadium in groups, we ran like crazy (while screaming, obviously) even though the guards kept telling us NO RUNNING! When I entered the stadium I was so shocked by how huge it was and how close we were to the stage! I had no hopes of being close since I was arriving on the date of the show, I even brought my glasses because I thought it would be so hard to see him but, to my surprise, we ended up like 6 or 10 people away from the barricade, we were so so happy we send a voice message to our family screaming in joy. 

And then the wait and torture began, we were literally compressed, I coudn’t even move my arms and sometimes it was really hard to breathe, my cousin ended up a little bit further away from me because I went to get merch when we arrived but I kept an eye on here most of the time. The first oppening show (a local singer) was pretty good, a bit boring. Then it was Antonio Lulic’s turn, he was super charismatic and fun but I was so uncomfortable I just wanted to go, there was a point where I though “this is awful, I’m never getting general admision tickets again” How wrong I was.

It was a really cold day, 9º and it rained a few times, by the time Antonio was done and we were waiting for Ed it started pouring heavily, but we where so hot and pushed together that it was a relief. At 20:30 exactly the screens were lit, we where like 40,000 people inside the stadium, and boom there he was, in all his ginger glory, playing Castle on the Hill with his small guitar sporting a red hoax t-shirt over a flannel (I was hysterical about the flannel lol I just missed them so much) and those lovely tight jeans. And at that moment I knew, everything was worth seeing him, the wait, the cold, the rain, the pain, the pushing, the hair of the girl in front of me in mouth, he was there, a few meters a away from me. It was surreal, seeing him there, I’ve watched so many videos, and I was seeing him live so clearly, he was incredibly beautiful, he had the warmest smile I’ve ever seen, his hair bright orange and the red suited him perfectly, his eyes bright and excited. 

As usual, when he arrived people screamed to the top of their lungs and the Ed Sheeran party began, we were so so loud, and he was so so impressed. After Castle on the Hill he said “Hello, this is amazing” and told us he was looking forward to coming back to Argentina because he remembered how loud we were, and dared us to be even louder than the whole european tour (we were).

The rest of the night was pure magic, I was still uncomfortable but it was so worthy, I kept moving from different spots because people literally dragged me, sometimes I was closer to the stage, sometimes not so much. I sang, jumped, cried and scream through the almost 2 hour show. Apart from being amazingly talented as always and his voice just as sweet, beautiful and powerful, he was super happy to be there. That was the best part, seeing him enjoying the experience as much as we were. 

He kept moving closer to the edge of the stage and I was swooning every time he did, you can literally hear me in the videos sighing “ahhh”.

He sang Castle on the Hill, Eraser, The A Team, Don’t / New man, Dive (which he asked us to sing the loudest while it was raining heavily), Bloodstream (one of my favourite to hear live, because of the energy that performance has and the heavy guitar action), Galway Girl, Feeling Good / I See Fire, Barcelona (every time he sang the lyrics in spanish he smirked, he knew we would scream even louder, Perfect, Happier (where he asked us to turn the lights on, the view was beautiful), Thinking out loud, Photograph (I cried through the whole song, you can hear me sobbing while singing in my video) and then something amazing happened. In between songs we, the people in the general admission area, started screaming “Give me love, give me love” to which he answered “Try next time”. After Photograph, he grabbed his guitar, looked at us while we kept screaming “Give me love” and asked Trevor to bring any guitar that was on tune and HE STARING SINGING GIVE ME LOVE, we were hysterical, we asked, he did it, it lasted nearly 9 minutes, it was breath taking, he even set up a chorus in the crowd, dividing us in Higher Harmony, Lower Harmony and asking to sing non-stop, no matter what happened while he sang and directed us like an orchestra (you must have seen the video by now) It was magnificent. Then came Nancy Mullingan (he asked us to sing the nanananana instrumental part) and Sing (we jumped and screamed like psychos, it was super fun and energetic). He then run to change and came back with the Argentinean football t-shirt, I have to admit I was one of those people who thought it was silly when singers do that, and I didn’t understand the excitement of it, but when he came back I nearly peed in my pants hahahahaha it suited him so nicely, bringing out the blue in his eyes 🎵 Shape of you began, we where all dancing and jumping, and for closure, You need me I don’t need you, where he got all excited moving and running trough the stage like crazy while waving an argentinean flag. (overly excited Ed in YNMIDNY is my favourite Ed) And then he was gone.

I took a few pictures, almost all of them awful (I’m really bad plus my phone is crap) and videos where you can hear the crowd (and me) more than you can hear Ed hahahaha I tried to enjoy the show through my eyes rather than my phone, and I’m so glad I did.

Since december I’ve been strugling with a lot, went through something I thought I’d never had to deal with that got me really really down. The person I loved the most, that I thought would never hurt me, crushed me into pieces and the last 6 months were awful. I was depressed, didn’t leave the house, didn’t showered, lost weight, cut contact with all my friends and family but then the latin american tour was announced and I bought tickets for my god daughter. By the end of march I made the decision to go with her and from that exact moment things got better, I was finally looking forward to something, dreaming about the experience, smiling once again.  Ed’s music lifted me up in a way I tought it was not possible. The moment I saw him my heart was pounding so much. He was there, he was real. People tell me “If you didn’t go you’d have regreted it so much”. Now, being aware of what this type of experience is, what it makes you feel, I would never forgive myself if I decided to stay. I literally never imagined it would be THIS GOOD. 

20.05.17 is, by far, the best day of my life, I’ll never forget it. Thank you singer songwriter Edward Christopher Sheeran. You’re a magical human being.

*Sorry for my english but as you might have guessed is not my first language.