#this went through so many revisions my brain hurts lol

[snezfics-n-shit]

Whumptober Day 25: Cranky

Fandom: Ace Attorney 

Characters: Miles Edgeworth, Phoenix Wright, Trucy Wright, Athena Cykes, Apollo Justice

Notes: Post-DD. Established married!Wrightworth because what else did you expect? Miles has been taking time out of his schedule to care for the employees of the Wright Anything Agency after a particularly brutal cold season. He’s been doing great, he’ll swear on his life. The patience of a saint, that’s Miles Edgeworth for you. He is totally not going to completely lose it. 

     He couldn’t believe it. For the first time this week, Miles didn’t have to scrape perfectly decent breakfast, breakfast he made, into the garbage. He could have sworn it was proper etiquette for guests he and his husband so graciously welcomed in their home to at least try to clean their plates. 

“They live alone, babe. It’ll do them good for us to extend some hospitality,” he remembered Phoenix saying. At first, Miles didn’t mind at all. He may not have been any Florence Nightingale, but he saw merit in caring for his husband’s colleagues while they were unwell. He didn’t even complain when the two infected his husband with a cold that reduced his voice to a hoarse crackle and kept Miles awake with hours of coughing and sneezing assaulting his ears. No, no. It was no trouble at all, really.

He could have sworn when he first welcomed Apollo and Athena as guests, he was up for anything they asked for. He could prepare soup with his eyes closed, and by the second day of Phoenix’s cold, Miles was very tempted to do so just so he could say he got something resembling sleep. As the number of hands helping him dwindled to zero, Miles’s energy was wearing a little thin. Just a little thin, though, not too much at all.

Then there was the texting. Since Miles was the only one in the house whose voice was audible, his cell phone was constantly blowing up with short, grammatically lacking text messages. Hardly any of them allowed him time to fulfill one person’s request without being bombarded with other unrelated tasks they expected of him. He could make tea and he could check pages of calculus homework, but not simultaneously; there was only one of him. He would do it again, though, really. Go ahead, ask him to care for ten sick people, and for a month this time. Just direct a hospital’s worth of patients to his house, why don’t you?

Oh, no, Miles wasn’t losing his patience at all. He was mature and collected, so he brought anything his family and guests asked for without a complaint. That was true, wasn’t it? Or did thoughts to himself about how tired he was getting from running around the house grabbing whatever anyone wanted count? He was doing so well the first three days of the arrangement, so surely at the tail end of the week his eyes shouldn’t be twitching from exhaustion he was most definitely not feeling.

“I’m really happy to finally taste your cooking, Mr. Edgeworth.” Athena’s recovered voice startled Miles. He had almost forgotten more people could speak than just him. “Trucy kept telling me you were a really good cook, and I’m definitely not disappointed.” Something about that felt underhanded, Miles was sure of it. She was doubting his skills as a cook, wasn’t she?

“You’ve been really good to us, Papa.” Trucy smiled. “Thank you so much!” Of course Trucy was the first to verbally thank him for his efforts. She was taught manners and was clearly not raised in a barn. And no, Apollo, emojis and ‘memes’ did not count.

“You’re very,” Miles heard his voice crack and cleared his throat, “you’re very welcome, Trucy.” 

“Yeah, thank you so much, hon.” Phoenix was the second person Miles could count on for gratitude. What Miles really wanted to hear, however, was an apology for all the sleep he lost thanks to Phoenix’s poor volume control late at night. There was always something, be it sniffling, sneezing, or coughing that would start just as Miles thought he finally had some peace and quiet.

“Thanks.” Apollo said nothing besides that and continued eating the last of his toast. What a wordsmith, wasn’t he? A real Shakespeare.

“You’re both quite welcome as well.” Miles’s nose twitched ever so slightly as he spoke. “Are you all finished? I’d like to,” he cleared his throat again, “clean the dishes soon.” He knew no one would bother helping him with the task. They all had much more important things to do like watch television or play games on their phones.

Just as he thought, all responses were a chorus of confirming they were finished eating and not a single offer to help. Despite the fact they were all clearly more than ready to be back on their feet, Miles was on his own in carrying the pile of dishes to the counter by the sink. None of the dishes were his. He wasn’t hungry, and the lord knew he wasn’t about to be a hypocrite by committing the horrid act of wasting food. He would never be so ungrateful, so wasteful, so--

“Oh, I’d actually like a refill of orange juice.” Apollo asked, just as he always did since he arrived last Thursday.

“Your legs aren’t broken.” Miles snapped without even thinking about what he had just said.

“Woah, where did that come from?” Athena was taken aback by Miles’s harsh tone.

“YEAH, SOMEONE’S CRANKY!” Widget blurted in its usual loud and robotic tone, further irritating Miles.

“Would you mind telling that thing to put a sock in it?” Miles clenched his teeth, becoming more frustrated when Phoenix stopped him from reaching for his dishwashing gloves.

“Hey, if something’s bothering you, just tell us.” Phoenix wanted to de-escalate as well as he could. “Did something happen at work?”

“I wouldn’t know, Phoenix. I haven’t been in the office all week!” Miles was so caught up in the outburst he failed to hear how hoarse he sounded. He hardly thought anything when the strain caused him to cough. 

“Oh, babe.” Phoenix’s expression softened. “You’re not feeling well, are you?” He kissed his husband’s forehead. “Mm, you’re warm, too.”

“Please, not in front of guests. Not to mention-- mention, hhh…” Miles turned away from Phoenix’s concerned gaze. “Hh’uurrssSHH” He sneezed in his elbow, leaving a damp spot on his pink pajama sleeve. He instinctively pressed a hand under his running nose, not doing anything to get Phoenix off his back. He wasn’t even done yet. “Hu’RRsshhooh! HH’RSSHOOH!” How disgusting.

“We can do the dishes, Papa!” Trucy offered. She looked at Apollo and Athena, who both nodded in agreement. “It’s only right to return the favor.” What a sweetheart she was, absolutely her father’s daughter.

“You’re going back to bed.” Phoenix put his head on Miles’s shoulder and embraced him from behind. “We’re not going to let you lift a finger.”

Miles found himself spacing out for the duration of Phoenix ushering him to bed. He really was out of sorts, wasn’t he? He couldn’t even remember stepping out of the kitchen. It was almost dreamlike to find himself bundled up in bed. 

“Are you okay?” Phoenix waved his hand in front of Miles’s face. “It was way too easy to get you into bed and you haven’t said anything since we were in the kitchen.” He gently took Miles’s glasses and set them aside.

“Of course I’b dot okay.” Miles grumbled, turning on his right side. “I haved’t slept ihd days, we have the worst house guests I’ve ever had the displeasure of beetig, ahd by owd husbahd wod’t eved let be wash the dishes.”

“You’re a real ray of sunshine this morning.” Phoenix brushed Miles’s hair with his fingers. “My poor sick grouch of a husband.” He cooed.

“I’b dot a grouch.” Miles frowned, hardly supporting his claim. 

“What would you call yourself, then?” Phoenix made a small hum. “With how you acted in the kitchen, I wouldn’t be surprised if you poked your head out of a trashcan and told us to scram.”  

“I wasd’t by best, was I?” Miles knew that was the understatement of the year. That tickle in his throat that pestered him, admittedly since he went to bed last night, finally became a full-fledged cough. “I feel awful.” He croaked.

“I know, babe.” Phoenix sighed. “It’s our turn to take care of you, now. You did so much all by yourself, we’re gonna show you how grateful we are. You’ll even have Apollo and Athena to-”

“Doh.” Miles said firmly. “They’re goi’g hobe. Today.”

“Alright, alright. Then it’ll be just me and Trucy.”

“That’s better.” 

Phoenix helped Miles sit up so he could fluff the pillow behind him. He gave a sympathetic smile as he listened to Miles’s thick, hardly effective sniffling. 

“You must be so tired.” Phoenix let Miles lie back down. “I’m sorry if I kept you up all night.”

“I ab ahd you did.” Miles confirmed flatly. 

Miles just closed his eyes for a moment, only to be disturbed by something poking into his mouth. He made a soft grunt, dismissing it until that horrible beeping had him opening his eyes again. He watched a blurry figure resembling Phoenix walk outside his field of vision, only for the figure to return a few moments later. He felt something cold and damp rest on his forehead and flinched from the dramatic contrast in temperature. 

“Is it too cold?” Phoenix’s voice was muffled by Miles’s congestion-affected hearing. When Miles shook his head in response, Phoenix gave a sympathetic smile and gently adjusted the cool compress in place. He looked over at the doorway and spotted Athena and Apollo watching from outside the room. He mouthed something along the lines of ‘he’s resting.’

“I should apologize.” Miles said groggily. “The way I acted was terribly rude.”

“Hey, hey.” Phoenix shushed his husband softly. “You weren’t feeling like yourself this morning. Athena and Apollo aren’t strangers, and Trucy and I definitely know you wouldn’t act like that on a regular basis.” He kissed his warm cheek. “You were just a little cranky, is all.”

“That’s dot ad excuse.” Miles closed his eyes again. “It was udcalled for.”

"Mr. Edgeworth?" Athena couldn't help but speak up. "We accept your apology, but the boss is right. We know you don't always act like that."

"You were pretty rude." Apollo muttered just before Athena gave him a light nudge with her elbow. "But, uh," he scratched the back of his head, "we probably deserved it." 

Miles refused to have a serious discussion sounding like he did, so he yanked about five or six tissues from the end table tissue box. The amount seemed to be just enough by the time he was done. He checked the remaining contents of the box before tossing the used tissues in the trash bin.

“No one deserved the harsh words I used.” What Miles’s voice lost in congestion was made up for in hoarseness. “It wasn’t right.”

“You can’t be on model behavior all the time, hon.” Phoenix massaged Miles’s hand with his thumb. He noticed Miles starting to look annoyed again. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re too nice about this.” Miles grumbled. His mood wasn’t completely improved. He would come up with more excuses to wallow in excess guilt if he wasn’t so, so very tired. 

The next thing the trio of lawyers heard from him was one of his ‘world famous’ snores, as Phoenix jokingly described them when Miles wasn’t in the room. Miles was completely out cold when Trucy tiptoed in, intending on telling him the dishes were clean and put away. 

“Papa’s asleep?” Trucy whispered and Phoenix answered with a nod. “Don’t worry,” she directed her assurance to Apollo and Athena, “he’ll be in a better mood when he wakes up, I promise.”

. . .

     It was two in the afternoon when Miles finally woke up. All built up grumpiness washed away in his sleep and with a clear head, he felt as if he were in good enough shape to climb out of bed and see if his family needed anything. Just as he reached for his glasses, he found an envelope that wasn’t there before. It wasn’t sealed, so the card inside slid out easily into his hand. 

The card was handmade, covered in variations of ‘Thank You’ written in different colored pencils. It was easy to tell whose message was whose, especially Athena’s multilingual expressions of gratitude and Phoenix’s barely legible handwriting. Miles felt himself tear up a little, not noticing Phoenix and Trucy standing by the bedroom doorway.

“We thought you’d appreciate that.” Phoenix was holding a steaming mug of tea, likely made just recently. He either had very strong husband intuition or just planned on waking Miles up when it was ready. He took a couple tissues from the box on the end table to use as a makeshift coaster to set the mug down on. “You should also know our guests left today as promised.”

“Before they left, we all made that card.” Trucy had her hands behind her back. “It was Polly’s idea!” 

So Apollo was grateful after all. No, no. Miles wasn’t going to let himself fall back into that sort of attitude.

“We were going to make you soup but we didn’t know for sure if you would be hungry.” Phoenix handed the mug over to Miles, who accepted it gratefully. He watched Miles take a moment to inhale the steam with that smile he always had whenever Phoenix made him tea. There was a quality in Phoenix’s brews that Miles could never replicate no matter how hard he tried. “I’m glad to see you smiling again.”

“I think tea will suffice, thank you.” Miles’s voice was in worse shape than before. If this was how he sounded the first day into this cold, he wasn’t at all looking forward to the upcoming days that would surely go downhill from here. “I would hate to waste any of your cooking.”

“Oh yeah,” Phoenix chuckled nervously, “sorry about all that food you had to throw out. While you were sleeping, Trucy and I realized that must have bothered you a lot.” Indeed it did, as ashamed as Miles now felt for letting it get to him. 

“I accept your apology,” Miles took a sip from the mug, “if only because you make a wonderful cup of tea.” He laughed briefly, causing a vibrating sensation in his chest that made him need to cough. 

“Oh! Right!” Trucy presented what she had been hiding behind her back: a brand new jar of vapor rub. “We picked this up today! Do you want to put this on yourself or should Daddy do it?” 

“I think I can do this myself.” Miles set down the mug so he could take the jar. He had just started dating Phoenix when he first experienced the substance’s decongestant properties. Phoenix applied it the first few times, but Miles was never a fan of how Phoenix knew exactly what parts of his chest were ticklish. He did, however, like how Phoenix was not at all judgmental about his unfamiliarity with the product. 

“I did say you wouldn’t be lifting a finger.” Phoenix ruffled his husband’s hair. “I’m kidding, of course. Just know if there’s anything you need, you say the word and we’ll get it for you.”

“And I would like you to know,” Miles kissed Phoenix’s cheek, “if I’m too demanding, just tell me.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen.” 

Phoenix was just going to pretend he didn’t see Miles’s devilish smirk just then.

[horrorslashergirl]

The Lurking One: A Shadow Horror Story

Authors Note: Decided to write a story for my newest Slasher OC, Shadow. People seem to really like him, despite him not having a face claim. lol

Warning: 18+ for horror, gore and torture, plus add in trauma

Words: 2.4k words

It was one of these late at night study sessions for the ones that slacked during the year and had to catch up with what they lost; Giula was one of them and she cursed herself for letting her time be filled with sorority activities and parties.

The Northeastern University campus was empty save for the security guard; Guila being the only student who was currently in the library catching up to a project that was due to tomorrow. She could have done it back at the sorority house, but she knew the girls would distract her and tempt her with other activities such as preparing for a college festival that was in two weeks.

Her grades were more important than social activities that would print into her status, not to mention her parents who had a talk with her about the fact that college wasn't a gateway for drinking and hooking up with guys.

Guila sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose, checking the old antique clock of the library.

10:35 PM

Her gaze moved back to the tons of files and books on the wood desk she was sat at. She just finished the project, but she needed to revise it to make sure everything was perfectly done. The grade for this project was important and she wasn't looking for another discussion with her parents and the headmaster.

She will look it over in the morning; she needed to be fresh tomorrow for the presentation and looking like a crackhead in front of the judges wasn't a pro in the book. Putting everything back into her bag neatly, she pulled her hair out of the tight ponytail, letting her auburn locks fall freely down her back, almost to the hips.

Walking out of the library and locking the door; thank God the old library lady was a sweetheart and left the keys for her to close. She walked down the hallways and taking the old victorian ascensor to the low floor. Before she could exit the building she stopped by the cubicle of the security guard, handing him the keys.

"All done for tonight, dear?" Arthur asked, taking the keys and setting them on his desk.

"Well, finally so. I will have to own Mrs. Hariot for leading me the keys to the library." Giula told the old man with a smile.

"Ahhh...She's an angel among here. Trust me, it was her pleasure." he old the girl, sitting back down at his desk, a copy of  Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen was on the desk.

"Have a good night without incidents, Sir." Giula told the gentleman guard who nodded.

"Nothing ever happens around here. Kids nowadays don't read books anymore, so I don't think someone will try to break into the library." Arthur joked, making Giulia giggle and nod, although feeling a little by what he said.

"I suppose so. Good night." the girl waved off, stalking towards the exit.

"Likewise, dear!" Arthur called after her, going back to the classic novel.

As she opened the door, a chilly air hit Giulia in the face, making her wrap her arms around herself. It was definitely colder than when she got in the morning here. It was earlier spring, the days warm, but the nights reminding that the winter just recently moved away.

She was wearing a white button-down with dark blue jeans and some ballet flats that made her legs all shaky; her light brown cardigan not helping at all. She couldn't wait to get back to the sorority house and bask in the warmness of her bed and away from the coldness of the night.

It was just a 20 minutes long time walk to the house, but it seemed like much more to her now that she was all alone and shivering like a hairless cat.

Mentally, she cursed her parents for not letting her drive, always scolding her that she wasn't ready. Overly protective parents and their old school mentality always made Giulia feel like she was still a baby. She was 22 and in the second year of college for Christ's sake.

She couldn't wait to finish college and get a job; Oh the dream of having her own apartment and not having to deal with doll-like girls who owned Porches all because of their wealthy daddies. Now thinking more about it, she was the only one who didn't have an overly rich family; maybe the girls kept her because she was the only one who was first to clean a mess, make breakfast when the others were hungover.

The streets were all deserted, none was outside, most people here being locals since birth or college students who basked in cheap beer and gossips at this hour.

This neighbor that gave off hostel-like vibes made her skin be covered in goosebumps, smelling a faint scent of weed, beer and hearing the music blasting from the apartments above. The police wouldn't come to stop the noise, since there was none to be bothered by the hypnotic beat.

Guila could feel eyes on her, but every time she turned around to take a look there was none, just the slight wet streets and alleyways that adored this place. Each time she passed one, she would halt her walking, afraid two big clawed hands will brisk her away into darkness.

She rolled her eyes as a guy from above cat-called her, probably drunk off his ass, and his girlfriend a few feet away from him at the window making out with his best friend.

Boston really was filled up with these types of students, getting great opportunities and throwing said blessing out the window because of blinding hormones, and the idea of being young means I'm indestructible.

'Just 10 more minutes and you will be home.' Giulia thought to herself, but it quickly went off the window as pain shot through her scalp, before she knew it she was dragged into the darkness of an alleyway.

One strong arm wrapped around the middle section of her waist, but the other moved to her neck, feeling the prickle of something cold against her neck; a blade, a knife, something that was indeed sharp.

"Scream and you can say arrivederci to your precious vocal cords." the person that held her spoke, voice raspy and very eerie, definitely a male.

"P-Please...Don't kill me." Giulia whispered, afraid that if she raises her voice too much, he won't keep on his promises.

"Shush now. I heard that line all too many times and it gets very monotonous." the man spoke right by her ear, running what she assumed was a scalpel over her cut, not slitting her throat, but surely making a small cut to show that he wasn't playing games.

She was panicking, her breathing getting more on the hysterical edge, then she did the first thing she could think of. She kicked him in one of his shins, making him groan, but he didn't back off. He did throw her in the opposite direction of the alleyway against the brick wall. Giulia grunted and whimpered as she hit the ground right into a puddle.

Her hazel eyes looked up and she felt terror strick her as he stalked over to her wet and bruised form, like a panther ready to pounce on its prey. She could scream, but the music from the apartments above was so loud she wouldn't have a chance in someone hearing her.

One cold leather-gloved hand wrapped around her neck and he slammed her back into the wall, showing so much strength that got her the image of him snapping her tiny neck like a twig.

"That was some dirty move you put up there, little wench. Although I am a very patient man." he whispered, and now that he was in front of her, she could make out what he looked like.

He was wearing all black, probably a very expensive tailored suit with a scarlet red tie, not even a glimpse of skin was shown. What really caught her attention was his vintage-looking fedora and the creepy raven like a mask. 

A doctor purge mask? She heard of them from her brother who was very into history.

"W-Who are you?" Giulia choked, his hand tightening around her throat at the question.

He hummed like he was deep in thought.

"I think the public eye has birthed me as the Shadow." he answered her question.

It took only a few seconds for Giulias eyes to widen and her body to tremble. She heard on the news about him; the unknown brutal killer, never seen, none to survive to tell the story and how they described his murderers on television.

The killer known now as Shadow chuckled at her horrified face.

"Ahhhh....So you heard of me. Good. I hate to explain information to someone who cannot even work their brain enough to avoid someone dangerous." he mused, making the young woman whimper and cry, then she began to swing her legs in an attempt to hurt him.

Only for her head to be slammed multiple times against the brick wall until her vision blacked and she fell on the dirty ground by the pristine black Oxfords he was sporting.

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

The lightbulb above flickered to life and Giulia opened her eyes, looking around like a desperate animal caged, or more like chained by her neck, a metal collar digging into the skin of her neck and creating red and purple marks.

Her doe-like eyes looking around and stopped on the black-clad figure.

The Shadow.

"Ahh...I'm glad you're awake. I might think I hit your head too many times on the brick wall. I usually prefer drugging my victims, but you were acting like too much of a mindless animal." he began to spoke so fluently, calm, like everything that was going on was a normal occurrence for him; like discussing the weather over a few drinks.

The man was laying some tools neatly on a metal table; surgical tools, like scalpels, forceps, scissors, retractors, and clamps. Giulia felt a bile form in her throat, starting to tug on the heavy chain that was bounded against the concrete wall; no luck.

"Let m go, you fucker!" she screamed and in an instant, her back meet the cold wall, gloved hand grasping her jaw tightly as the leather beak of the mask brushed against her face.

"You smell putrid, although there is that faint strawberry scent of your perfume." he commented, fingertips digging more into her jaw and making her whimper and sob.

In his free hand, he held a pair of surgical retractors and her eyes widened when he forced her mouth open, one finger pulling her upper lip to expose her pearly white teeth and pink gums.

"You have a nice set of teeth there. I adore your canines especially." he whispered, then he grasped one of her canines with the retractor, tugging on it and forcing a pain-filled scream from Giulia; the next twin teeth following. 

Her tears filled eyes looking as he held both canines between black covered fingers.

"Very impeccable indeed." he murmured, going back to the table.

The metallic taste of blood and sterisol filled her mouth, scarlet dripping down her chin.

She knew this was far from over as his thumb run over the shiny scalpel.

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

Giulia didn't know how much time has flown; one month, maybe two? She hadn't seen the light of the day in so long and she wished dead would overcome her.

She was in so much pain; the things Shadow did to her. First the canines, then her fingernails went off and when she spat on his mask she thought she was going to die as he poured acidic fluid down her scalp; her beautiful long hair was just a burned memory.

Dead was supposed to come, but the sadist treated her wounds like an expert at the hospital, only to remind her that death was far away from her.

Then the begging, telling him what she will do anything, even getting on her knees and possibly giving him new ideas. His words were absolute humiliation.

"I know what you're implying, ignorant wench." he told her as his gloved hands were running down her naked hips, then he left her.

"I'm not a rapist, darling. Never found any fascination with taking someone against their own will in that way. I prefer my slave to be willing, but you're not. So I advise next time you keep these sick fantasies to yourself." he told her, mocking and making her feel even more stupid.

She caught glimpses of him doing awful things to the other girls; one of them skinned alive and every muscle on full display.

"You're just too perfect, aren't you?" he told Giulia, making her a confused mess.

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

She did manage to trick him when he was busy piercing her earlobes multiple types, having to bite her tongue as she stole the keys to her chains.

Then when he found her moving down the hallways; she almost got her leg blown off when he used a shotgun after her. She had opened the door to the exit and was meet with the night. Running through the forest, looking behind her over and over.

Her luck was finally getting to the principal road and a car passed by, getting in, and again she was in danger. The old man tried to rape her, but she was brave enough to jump out of the car when they were in town.

After 30 minutes of limping around the streets, she finally spotted a police car that was patrolling.

Interrogations followed, but she always spoke the same words, too traumatized by the events.

'He is tall and in all black. He doesn't seem human. No human could do this. He pulled all her skin off like she was a rabbit. His voice, makes me wanna throw up, it's so raspy it makes me wanna be deaf so I cannot hear it anymore in my head. What he did to the other girls...I cannot describe. He said that I'm perfect. What was that supposed to mean?'

Her parents were devasted when they found out about everything that happened and her mother fell on her knees crying over and over when she finally saw Giulia face to face.

The worst was that she could no longer be let on her own; nightmares, voices, aggressive outbursts, and feeling like she was constantly followed. She was scared of her own shadow.

When the police found the whereabouts of where Giulia was held everything was gone, not even a spot of blood like there was none there in the first place.

Why clean it all up if Shadow wanted the bodies to be found in the first place?

Needless to say...Nights in Boston weren't safe anymore.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hey Steph! I absolutely love your page! Do you have any PTSD related fluff? like Johns having nightmares so Sherlock goes to comfort him and they both know but don’t mention it?

Anonymous said to inevitably-johnlocked: I was wondering if you knew of a johnlock fanfic which has john having PTSD or other war-related problems, and sherlock either helps him get through it or john comes to sherlock in the middle of the night like a child asking if he can sleep with (not that kind) sherlock so the nightmares will stop. If you do, great. If not, that’s fine too :)

Hi Nonnies!!

I don’t know if you’re the same Nonny or not, but since they’re both the same-ish, I’m putting them on the same ask, LOL!

So I HAVE done a list in the past for PTSD, and because I have a few new fics, I’m gonna make a part 2 list! Hopefully you’ll find something you’re looking for on one of the two lists I have!

NIGHTMARES, PTSD, PANIC ATTACKS, & MENTAL or EMOTIONAL TURMOIL (Pt. 2)

See also: Nightmares, PTSD, Panic Attack, & Mental / Emotional Turmoil

Better Late Than Never by sussexbound (NR (T), 3,021 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4 / TFP Doesn’t Exist, Sherlock POV, Love Confessions, Drunk Sherlock / Sober John, John Takes Care of Sherlock, First Kiss, Jealous Sherlock, Emotional Turmoil) – He suddenly wants John Watson out of his bedroom, out of his flat, out of his life, because he has been lying to himself these last few months, he realises. He doesn’t want John here, not with the way things are. He doesn’t want 221b Baker Street to be nothing more than rest stop John returns to on his journeys between women. He doesn’t want to play co-parent if Rosie is going to be snatched away from him and placed in the arms of whatever nameless woman du jour John lands on next. He doesn’t want to keep being so careful, so generous, so, so…

Welcome Home, John by slashscribe (G, 5,504 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S3, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Awkwardness, Stabbed Sherlock, Protective Sherlock, Panic Attack (Sherlock), Self Esteem Issues, Love Confessions, First Kiss) – When John moves back to 221B, he thinks he’s the broken one, but after a while, it becomes clear that he might not be correct.

What Did I Do Wrong? by Starlight05 (T, 7,880 w., 5 Ch. || Hurt Comfort, Angst, John Whump, Hospitalization, Worried Sherlock, Emotional Turmoil, Nightmares, Sherlock Being Dumb) - After John almost dies on a case, Sherlock disappears. So John is left to figure out what he can do to get his best friend back. Meanwhile Sherlock, guilt-ridden and willingly alone, is doing everything he can to stay away.

London Gods by a_different_equation (E, 11,092 w., 5 Ch. || American Gods Fusion || Magical Realism, Sex Magic, True Love, PTSD John, First Kiss/Time, Marathon Sex, Sensuality, Genie Sherlock, Human John, Internalized Homophobia, Star-Crossed Lovers, Soul Mates) – Sherlock Holmes is a jinn who does not grant wishes. However, when Dr. John H. Watson, recently returned from the war in Afghanistan, gets into his cab by “accident”, it might not even need magic to grant both men their deepest wish: love.

The Palmyra Atoll by elwinglyre (E, 16,609 w., 3 Ch. || TSo3 Divergence / Episode Fix-It, Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapped John Watson, John Whump, Evil Mary, Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Toplock, Limited 3rd John POV) – As John’s preparing for the wedding, Sherlock is preparing to have his heart broken, and Mary is prepared to do the unthinkable. Intervention required. Enter Sherlock. Set before Sign of Three with a far different outcome. John is drugged, kidnapped, and left on an island, but not just any old island.

Silhouettes by allonsys_girl (E, 28,585 w., 7 Ch. || Canon Compliant, POV John, Heavy Drinking, Sad/Depressed John, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Reunion, Foot Jobs, Blow Jobs, Infidelity, Cheating, Drug Use/Abuse, Anal, Switchlock, Rimming, Parentlock) – Sherlock and John find comfort in each other’s arms, but as ever with these two, it’s not your typical relationship. It’s fluffy at the beginning, gets deeply angsty in the middle, gets porny at the end.

To Mend Icarus by AlessNox (T, 29,186 w., 14 Ch. || Post-TRF, Friendship, Drama, BAMF!John, Emotional Turmoil, Introspection, Harry is in this Fic, Angry John, Happy Ending, Queerplatonic Relationship) – After a case lands John Watson in court, he tells Sherlock that he is leaving. Not understanding why, Sherlock decides that the only way to learn the truth is to investigate his flatmate, Dr. John Watson. A revision of the story Mending Icarus.

Only To Be With You by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (M, 40,768 w., 4 Ch. || Black Mirror / Future AU || Character Death, Future Technology, Sickness/Cancer/Illness, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending, First Person POV John, Pining John, Heart-Wrenching Angst) – I tell myself that next time I’ll come near this same place again. Wait around for the mysterious stranger in his coat to dash past me, hot on the heels of a new criminal in black. I think this all the way back to my Exit, planning where I’ll wait and what I’ll say when I see him. Scheming on how to get his name. It’s only once I reach the Exit Point door that I realize two hours and forty-five minutes have passed, and I realize that this won’t be the last time I Visit. It won’t be the last time at all.

A Hundred Crimson Sols by elldotsee (E, 55,536 w., 16 Ch. || Astronauts AU || Mars Exploration / Space Travel, Slow Burn, Shy Sherlock, Scientist Sherlock / Biomed Engineer John, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, UST, Angst with Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Suicidal Ideation, Zero-G Sex) – Will Holmes is a chemical researcher recognized widely for his contributions to the new Mars exploration program. Thanks to his ground-breaking developments, the IMMC (International Mars Mission Corporation) is one step closer to Martian colonization. Will and his team of scientists are headed out on the first of three manned missions before the first group of settlers arrive. Three days before launch, one of the crew has to be replaced. Will panics because…new people. The replacement is of course one John Watson, biomedical engineer and space hottie who was pretty sure he had retired from actual space exploration and was now content to work in the nice, quiet research lab. Can the crew survive this TOTALLY ROUTINE trip? Will they be able to endure each other for the looooooong trip in close quarters? Gonna be a wild ride… prepare for blast off. Part 1 of the SpaceBois go to Space series

The Thing Is by TSylvestris (E, 56,743 w., 21 Ch. || Case Fic, Dev. Rel., Anal/Oral, Blow Jobs, Meddling Mycroft, Drama, Romance, Humour, Casual Encounters, Pining Idiots, Possessive Sherlock, Orgasm Delay, Rough / Alley Sex, Public Sex, John Whump, Drugged John, Emotional Love Making, Awkward Relationship, Marriage of Convenience, Switchlock, BAMF John) – The problem with living with Sherlock, John thought, was that you never, never, ever knew the significance of anything. Like your flatmate’s nose buried in your hair. Whilst you’re in bed. Part 1 of Nitroglycerine

The Burning by SrebrnaFH (M, 60,658 w., 24 Ch. || Reverse Reichenbach, Suicide, Depression, Hurt Sherlock / John, Separation, BAMF John, Good Big Brother Mycroft, Angst, Implied/Referenced Torture, Fake Character Death, Rescue Mission, Reconciliation / Reunion, Hospitalization, Marriage Proposal, Illnesses, Physical Therapy, Happily Ever After) – Something went very, very wrong. John had seemed, if not happy, then reasonably content with his life. Sherlock had never predicted something like THIS might have happened. Not in his worst nightmares. He was the lousiest friend ever, apparently. At least Mycroft found him something to occupy his mind with, so that he didn’t have to go back to 221B and stare at the walls and the chair, where John Watson would never sit again.

Being John Watson-ish by elwinglyre (E, 69,902 w., 17 Ch. || Bodysnatcher AU || Author John, Cranky Sherlock, Angst, Sexual Tension, First Kiss / Time, Falling in Love, BAMF John, Past Soldier John, Feelings, Inside Someone’s Brain, Shy Sherlock, Sherlock Loves John, POV Sherlock, Switchlock, Slow Burn, Internal Dialogue, Mental Turmoil) – When consulting detective Sherlock Holmes steps on one toe too many at a crime scene, he’s consigned to a desk job in an archaic office on the seventh-and-a-half floor of the New Scotland Yard. It’s in this bleak office that Sherlock discovers a portal into the mind of renowned author John Watson. Grander than his mind palace, this new wonderland affords Sherlock new vistas of experimentation. To learn more about the mystery behind the portal, Sherlock seeks out and befriends Watson. But then it all goes wrong when others find the secret portal door—including the man whose brain he visits.

The Vapor Variant by 88thParallel (CanadaHolm) (M, 72,684 w., 18 Ch. || Post-THoB, John Whump, Protective Sherlock, Guilty Sherlock, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD John, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Suspense, Virus, Sickfic, Big Brother Mycroft) – They stood face to face in the middle of a clearing. The dim light of the moon barely allowed Sherlock to see the glassy terror in John’s eyes and the sweat that glistened off his forehead. His nose was bleeding again, blood dripping in a slow stream from his right nostril. They were both gasping for air, John’s eyes locked on Sherlock’s. There was no recognition there, just wild animal fear. Time stood still for an eternal few seconds, and Sherlock took a shaky breath. “John—”Spell broken, John spun and bolted back into the woods. Still heaving for air, Sherlock took off after him.

The Cost of a Wish by slashscribe (E, 102,493 w., 12 Ch. || xxxHolic Fusion || Spirits / Ghosts and Magic, Love Confessions, Slow Burn, Soul Mates / Fated Lovers, Adventure, Immortal Sherlock, Powerful John, POV John, Frottage, Wish Granting, Angst with Happy Ending, Nightmares) – John has been plagued by a secret his entire life that has made him feel hopeless until he meets a mysterious, seemingly omniscient man named Sherlock Holmes who owns a wish-granting shop. Their meeting sets off a series of inevitable events that will change the course of both of their lives forever.

Two Two One Bravo Baker by abundantlyqueer (E, 114,574 w., 27 Ch. || Military AU || Afghanistan, War Story, Thriller) – Captain John Watson of 40 Commando, the Royal Marines, is assigned to protect and assist Sherlock Holmes as he investigates what appears to be a simple war atrocity in Afghanistan. An intense attraction ignites between the two men as they uncover a conspiracy that threatens everything they’ve ever known, but Sherlock is as much hunted as hunter, and everyone close to him is in deadly danger. Can he solve the case in time to save himself and John? Part 1 of Two Two One Bravo Baker Universe

The Adventure of the Silver Scars by tangledblue (NR [M], 142,458 w., 41 Ch. || S3 Fix-It, Post-HLV/ Post-TAB / Canon Compliant, Case Fic, No Baby, Angst, Humour, UST, Slow Burn, Angry John, Reconciliation, Not Nice Mary / Leaving Mary, Dependent Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Caretaker John, Fist Fights, It’s An Experiment, Virgin Sherlock, Dancing, Drugging, John Whump, Pet Names, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Scars) – It’s been thirteen months since Mary shot Sherlock and John finds he’s still pissed off about it. Sherlock had thought everything was settled: John and Mary, domestic bliss. But when John turns up at Baker Street with suitcases, the world’s only consulting detective might not be prepared for the consequences. A new case. Some old scores to settle. Certain danger. Concertos, waltzes, and whisky.

[inakua]

Late Night Wanderings

Request: Oneshot for Percy Weasley x Oliver Wood?? Recently discovered this ship, but there’s not a lot written about it :’( Don’t really have any specific plot ideas but could you do something set while they are still at Hogwarts, about them getting together?? AND LOTS OF FLUFF - @me-just-pretending-to-know 

Warnings: n/a(I will always try and tag as many warnings as I can think of for each writing, if you read through and find something that I haven’t listed which may be a trigger for someone please send me an ask or message me so that I can add it to this list, thanks!)

Pairings: Percy Weasley x Oliver Wood

Words: 1617

Fandom: Harry Potter

A/N: Okay, so for this my basic plot idea is that Percy likes to sneak out at night and go sit in the Quidditch stands, him and Oliver see each other start chatting and bam they like each other lol … also I realise that this request was literally sent in like over a year ago oops … so sorry I’ve been sooo inactive! Enjoy :)

REQUEST A ONESHOT

I suppose you could say that Percy Weasley was the odd one out. His whole family were different in there own unique ways, but him, he was completely different to all of them. He was known as the stuck-up, sensible, snobbish Weasley, the one who couldn’t have fun, the one who couldn’t take a joke.

Sometimes he just had to take a break from all of it, he only acted the way he did because he wanted to do well. He wanted to get a good, respected job in the Ministry, he wanted to provide financially for his future family in the way that his family couldn’t now. He loved his family, each and every one of them, although he didn’t show it every often, and he honestly wouldn’t trade them for the world, sometimes they just got on his nerves a bit; as all families do. They knew most of the things that went on in his life, whether he’d told them directly or they found out because the twins had gone snooping. However, there were two things that they didn’t know and he certainly never wanted them to find out, at least not until he was ready.

Firstly, Percy was gay. 

Secondly, Percy spent almost every night down at the Quidditch pitch, it was his sanctuary in the dark, the place that he went to let his thoughts roam free and true feelings run around.

Tonight was that same as any other, Percy wandered down to the Quidditch Pitch, his robes pulled tightly around him, protecting him from the chill of the February night.

Only, as much as it was the same, it was also extremely different. 

As usual, he walked down to the pitch, sat in at the very top of the stands, squished in a corner, a book clutched in his hand as if he were meaning to read it; yet he never did. 

He’d been there not even 5 minutes when a figure in the distance caught his eye. Sinking lower into his seat he prayed they weren’t making there way into the pitch, aka the only place at Hogwarts in this part of the castle.

“Shit,” Percy whispered, practically on the floor in an attempt to hide himself, book clutched tightly to his chest and glasses fogging up.

As the figure came closer, finally making it’s way onto the pitch, Percy wished he could’ve cursed louder.

Oliver Woods.

Roommate, captain of the quidditch team and possibly the hottest guy Percy had ever laid eyes on.

Percy watched as Oliver placed his broom on the ground, eyes scanning the stalls. If possible Percy sank even lower in his seat, praying that he wouldn’t be seen.

…

Oliver scanned the pitch, looking for any signs of movement. He hadn’t been out to practice on the pitch in the past couple of days, revision for NEWTs taking over his life, or that’s the excuse he told himself.

You see the thing is he was only in the library for one reason, and one reason only - Percy Weasley.

He’d be lying of he said that he hadn’t noticed the boy, almost everyday for the past week Oliver had been ‘revising’ at the table opposite from Percy Weasley. He always made sure to sit behind him so the boy in question wouldn’t notice, but he couldn’t help himself from watching as he studied.

The revision causing his eyebrows to furrow cutely in concentration, and the innocent way he chewed on his quill when he’d get stuck on something drove him crazy.

He wished he’d have the courage to actually talk to him, but he never seemed to get the chance.

Sighing, Oliver mounted his broom, shaking his head to try and clear the thoughts of Percy from his mind.

Before his obsession with ‘revising’, he’d been trying to perfect the Wronski feint, hoping to use it and surprise the Slytherins in their upcoming match.

“Come on Wood, time to concentrate,” he muttered to himself, willing his mind to focus. As he flew up into the air a glimpse of red caught his eye. Swinging around to see if his eyes were playing tricks in him, he spotted a mop if red hair lying in amongst the stands.

“Uh … hello?” Oliver called, flying over.

“Shit,” Percy cursed, scrambling to get up off the floor, hitting his head on a seat in the process, “ Um … I dropped my book?”

“Percy?! Uh hi, what - er what are you doing here?” Oliver asked in surprise, making a mental note of how cute Percy looked when he blushed.

“Just studying,” He squeaked, his face going even redder, “ya know for NEWTs and everything.”

“Yeah, well I was just gonna practise for the next match, you’re welcome to watch,” Oliver offered, hoping he’d accept.

Percy just sat there in shock, his brain scrambling for anything to say, had the Oliver Woods just asked him to watch him train?

“I mean you don’t have to or anything, I was just - I,”

“No!” Percy practically screamed, blush reaching down to his neck now, “I’d love to watch you train,”

“Really?” Oliver asked, stunned.

Percy rubbed the back of his neck, nervous all of a sudden, “Um yeah, really.”

“I - great! I’ll get started then,” Oliver replied, his body bouncing as he was filled with excitement and adrenaline, “you know you’re cute when you blush,” and with that he flew off into the sky.

Meanwhile, Percy’s brain was moving at a mile a minute, trying to process what the hell had just gone on.

“C - cute?” Percy mumbled, a smile creeping onto his face as he looked up and watched Oliver flying around the pitch.

They must’ve been down at the pitch for at least an hour before Oliver stared to warm down, realising what he was doing Percy jumped up from his seat and made his way down onto the pitch just as Oliver got off the broom.

“So? What you think?”

“I think you’re gonna beat Slytherin on Sunday,” Percy replied shyly, clutching his book to his chest.

“Yeah? I hope so, I’d really love it if we could win the cup our final year, ya know? Go out with a bang.”

Percy simply nodded, unsure what to reply as Quidditch wasn’t really his forte.

“You should probably head back up to the castle, curfew was a few hours ago and I need to shower in the changing rooms,” Oliver said, picking his broom up off the floor.

“Oh yeah, of course … I’ll see you around then?” Percy asked, shuffling nervously on his feet.

“Yeah see you around Perce,” Oliver replied, turning around to make his way to the changing rooms, mentally kicking himself for not being able to ask him out.

“Oliver!” Percy called, not being able to believe what he was about to do.

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re cute too!”

Oliver grinned as he watched Percy blush a bright red, before spinning around and practically running back towards the castle.

…

Two days later Oliver walked into the library, intent on getting what he wanted … Percy Weasley.

Thankfully, he was there, sat at his usual desk, a quill already in between his teeth and brow furrowed.

Unlike in the past, Oliver didn’t sit at the table opposite him bit marched straight up to his table, pulling out the chair opposite him.

“Hi Perce,”

“Oliver?” Percy asked, head cocked in confusion.

“Yep.”

Only just realising who it was that was sitting in front of him, Percy immediately sprang up in his chair, face quickly turning red, almost toppling over onto the floor.

“Woah, don’t wanna hurt yourself there Perce,” Oliver grinned, clutching onto Percy’s arm to keep him steady.

“Right. Yeah, sorry,” Percy mumbled, looking up at Oliver from his precarious position half off his chair.

“So um, about the other night,” Oliver began, moving his hand down Percy’s arm until it rested on his hand that clutched the edge of the table. “I just wanted to ask -”

“Willyougotohogsmeadewithme?” Percy suddenly blurted, his mind working on autopilot, as his eyes popped open wide.

“What?”

“Shit … um - I. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that I didn’t really know what I was thinking, I mean why would you want to go out with someone like me? I don’t even know if you like guys, but there was the other night and now your hand and I just -”

Oliver smiled at Percy as he continued to rant, unbelieving that he’d just asked him to Hogsmeade. Before he knew what he was doing he cupped Percy’s face with his hands, immediately shutting him up.

Staring into his eyes Oliver grinned, the shocked expression and doe eyes looking up at him making him melt inside, “I like you too.”

Pulling him closer Oliver rested their foreheads together, not wanting to take advantage or pressure Percy into anything.

“Just kiss me already,” Percy muttered breathlessly. Oliver did just that, pressing their lips together as they clung to each other in the corner of the library, unaware of the two pairs of eyes watching from the bookcase behind them.

“Good thing we told Oliver to go out and practise that nice Georgie.”

“Yeah, didn’t know Perfect Percy had it in him.”

[clove-teasdale]

survival of the fittest

*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

A/N: not a challenge but has background, some detective clove and rp~ Sorry for any mistakes in writing or typos, I was done with revisions and probs missed some stuff lol. there are mulan and batman (and slight marvel) references. italics section in the end is past. word count around 3k. enjoy! ft. rp with @maya-edwards  & little wilson

[edit--some slight changes were made/added in the last section]

*:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧ *:･ﾟ✧

One earbud in, I tapped the pen against my notebook. 6 Twos in the last Selection. Gradually less than our current 10.

I’d found the list of old Selected in a magazine published over two decades ago. I doubted ripping off the page was allowed considering it was from the library, but it wasn’t an actual book so I sneaked it out anyway. The possibility of someone noticing was extremely low after all.

I kept the page folded and clipped in the back cover of my notebook in case I needed it later, but had already made my own version of the list on a fresh page. I wanted to work through it even with other people around, so I knew I had to make it visually confusing. For once my love for complicated plans came in handy. 

The list consisted of name abbreviations. Carmen Zoraya becoming C.Z and so on. Next, to each name, I added caste number and week of elimination. 

C.Z-3-W8.  R.D.J.-2-W12 B.M-5-W3

Getting the information had taken me hours of reading in the library, but I’d managed. I went through different magazines, hidden between some pillars and a bookshelf to avoid being spotted by other girls that frequented the area. Organizing the old issues by their dates had probably been the biggest challenge–sitting on the carpeted floor, my back to the bookshelf and dozens of magazines on my lap.

I focused mostly on reading eliminations to get the crucial information out, but I hoped to go back later in the week to read about the dramas that had ensued during those months. Maybe that would give some extra insight otherwise dismissed when looking only at the bigger picture.

I wasn’t sure why I was still working on this. A gut feeling? Many psychologists debated there was always information and data our right brain was taking in, no matter if our left brain was busy on something else. The body registers the information even when your mind stays unaware. If that were true, what had I noticed besides the already obvious? I couldn’t tell, but it didn’t matter. I had enough spare time to work on it.

Running through the names again, I added strikes under Threes. I was in the eighth strike when I caught a girl approaching from the corner of my eye. She was the embodiment of nervousness, eyes searching the room as she clutched a book to her chest. There was an empty spot next to me, but she hadn’t noticed it yet when Victoria walked behind her. The TV sensation hadn’t even batted an eye in her direction, but the girl with the short afro was startled nonetheless.

The book was soon in the air as she juggled it around in an attempt to catch it. She wasn’t as swift as a coursing river though and it fell to the ground pretty quickly. 

She sighed, shoulders slumping in disappointment. I stared in silence, making sure others hadn’t paid much attention to the event before stating, “I think you dropped something.”

She was startled once more, but this time by my voice, a groan leaving her lips as she realized the spectacle had had an audience. “You saw all that, didn’t you…”

“Does it make it any better if I say no?”

She reached for the book and once standing, nodded a little, a worried frown as she said, “A-actually yes…”

I raised an eyebrow at her fear, unsure of the reason behind it, but settled with an “Okay,” and went back to my notes. I knew the best thing was not to make any further comments.

“Can I, uh- Can I sit here?” She asked after a moment.

I stopped in the middle of adding another strike to the number of Threes and considered the question. Staring at my notes without context made no sense as expected, so I figured it wasn’t a problem. “The seat is open to the public, you may sit.”

Whether she understood my slightly joking tone or not was hard to tell, but she cleared her throat and sat down either way. “Thanks…”

I’d seen her around before. Maya was her name if I remembered correctly. Sometimes she seemed kind of lost. Not like she didn’t know what was happening, but more like she wasn’t sure why she was there or what her plan was. A combination of shy and awkward was very likely.

Easy targets tend to know what they are. Wilson’s face crossed my mind at the thought. I took the single earbud I was wearing off, then went back to counting Threes. “No need to thank me. You didn’t need my permission to sit there.”

“Uh, well…Maybe you didn’t want company or- maybe it was taken?”

“Whether I want company or not should not scare you away from taking a seat that is there to be used by you.”

She frowned, considering my words. “I suppose not?” A moment of silence. “Sorry?”

I paused my count. So one of those people. Looking up, I raised an eyebrow at her. “Why sorry?”

Her own logic caught up with mine as she stuttered, “Uh-well- I don’t know…” 

Trying to run away from embarrassment, she quickly opened her book and pretended to read. Too bad she wasn’t good at pretending. 

I smirked down at my notes and said, “I see you have the ability of reading upside down.”

Her blush was unmistakable as she closed her eyes, realizing she was holding the book incorrectly. She tried to fix it, turning it over quickly. “No-Yes, yes, very entertaining, I can tell you.” She cleared her throat at the end and my smirk didn’t leave.

“Mhmm, I bet so. What did you think about the love interest killing his sister?”

“It really uh, turned the story ‘upside down’…”

I snorted at the pun. “Of course… you do realize that doesn’t happen though?” Taking the book from her and reading the page at the bottom I pointed out, “Page 56. The love interest isn’t introduced yet.” Also, there was no sister. Closing the book, I handed it back with a smug smile. Her smile in return was awkward.

“Well, it was worth a try? Sor– I mean, eh the book is nice then? Haven’t read it yet.”

“I figured as much, but yes, it’s a decent one. What made you pick it up?”

“I dropped it? So… Then I picked it up again?” She frowned and a head tilt followed. I frowned too, not getting what she was talking about at first, but then laughing at the mistake.

Once she realized what I meant she was quick to explain she hoped to get some knowledge on palace rules and etiquette considering the setting of the book. In theory, it sounded like something good, but it wasn’t going to be enough and she actually had access to books about the subject in the library. I suggested those for later. She pointed out they were boring in a small voice and I couldn’t disagree. I did tell her a novel wouldn’t help much, however.

“I know, I know…” She pouted, but soon curiosity took over her features. “What are you doing though?”

I stared at my barely understandable handwriting. I had the potential to make it neat if I bothered to try, but half the time I didn’t and especially not now. “A… personal project I guess.” I shrugged it off as I closed the notebook. “Nothing too important.”

“O-of course! I didn’t mean to uh–…” She vaguely gestured with her hands in the air when I waited for her to continue. “You know, to be rude.”

“It’s alright, not that big a deal, just something I don’t think I’d be able to explain.“ A partial lie. I didn’t want to start havoc just because I’d run a couple of numbers that could technically still be coincidental. Thankfully, I usually pulled off keeping things to myself pretty well. “You’re Maya, right?”

“Yes! And you’re Clove.” She smiled, taking another second to remember to offer a hand for me to shake. 

I nodded at the name and accepted the handshake. It wasn’t a soft grip, but slightly wary. She could use a little confidence. “You know, you shouldn’t be so frightened by them. They won’t bite you.”

I hadn’t mentioned Victoria’s name, but she got what I meant, biting her lip and trying to joke to dismiss my comment. I wasn’t too impressed. “I mean it.” I opened my notebook, this time on a random page, and started doodling a spiral pattern out of habit. “They seem like they’ll hurt you but if anyone was that mean sabotage would already be happening.  Worse case scenario maybe one of them is that petty, but you’d have to piss them off for real to worry about it.”

Maya nodded. “It sounds logical… Thanks anyway.”

That smile was more convincing than the previously given, even if she changed the subject after it. 

It took a few seconds for Wilson to stop laughing. “Oh wait, you’re serious?”

Even if he couldn’t see it through the call, I rolled my eyes at him. “You talk as if I can’t make friends.”

“Well, I mean… you can, but you hate them most of the time.”

That got a snort from me. “I don’t hate them. I just don’t trust their intentions.”

“Same difference. Clove Teasdale doesn’t make friends.”

That was a partial truth. I had various friend groups during high school and middle school, but none of them stuck with me. I was that person people wanted to be friends with, but not for any good reasons. It was because we fitted or because it was expected. Other times it was just convenient. Sometimes I wondered if maybe it was me though. Maybe I didn’t know how to be a good friend. That or I had really bad luck.

People at Mt. Rainer High School always seemed to strike some drama no matter what the clique. More often than not, about something I couldn’t understand, but whenever I gave suggestions to make things less complicated I was ignored, an annoyance, or horrible for not supporting a side.

When groups fractured I took a step back. Better alone than in a mess. Wilson had never understood why I’d give it all up and move on so fast, but I didn’t blame him. He knew that it was a smart choice to avoid drama, yet wished he could have that choice himself. He didn’t. He wasn’t really liked around school and therefore had only one friend...Which wasn't that different from me except I could pretend more.

Students liked to say it was because he was kind of a nerd. He knew as much as I did that it was because of his previous Caste though, even if no one would admit so. It was kinda dumb. As dumb as the caste system itself–trying to set a number with the life you’ll get–forcing a talented artist to become a teacher and a physics genius to be Picasso.

Not everyone could pull off a Da Vinci and be good at whatever they were put in. Many people failed because of that. Others were like Wilson’s mother, giving up the life she was born in for a life as a Three with whom she fell in love with. That left Wilson as nothing but a Two by chance. Terrible, dreadful chance that he never even asked for and would probably give up to get his parents back.

I leaned against my chair and got back to our conversation. “Statistically speaking, most people that stay friends are from college so…”

He pretended to be offended. “Ouch.”

”You’re decent enough. But as I was saying, I’ll try to befriend some of the girls. This isn’t school.”

“Hmm, you’re right. Everyone here sucks.”

“Even Graciela?” I teased, remembering the name I’d gotten out of him a few days ago. He scoffed back at me.

“No, she hasn’t been corrupted yet.”

“Now you just have to actually talk to her.”

He laughed for the second time. I was silent. “Oh, you’re serious again.”

I shook my head. “You’re a lost cause, kid.”

It was the middle of freshman year when we met for the first time.

I was placing books in my backpack, my head making a list of the homework for the next day when Cooper pushed him into a set of lockers feet away. I turned my head in the direction of who would one day be the future varsity quarterback as he took care of the new wimpy kid. 

Cooper wasn’t really original, trying as hard as possible to go for the popular-jock-bully stereotype as soon as the school year started. Intimidating middle schoolers and stealing lunch money he didn’t even need. It was hard to ignore sometimes, but I did.

Pressing my lips together, I watched as he stepped away to laugh at the boy, inciting his two friends to join him on whatever joke he’d made. Obviously, they did. Cooper’s father was a high ranking officer in the military. He had everything he needed to be on a high pedestal in school one day, which was annoying. 

I was on the list of few who ever stood up to him since we’d once been friends. That is before he filled his head with air. The brief moment I got to look at his new prey was enough to recognize the black haired kid holding tightly onto the strap of his backpack with a clenched jaw. 

His eyes darted from Cooper to the floor around him, head hidden between his shoulders. I’d seen that face in a million pictures around Mrs. Grayson’s house after my chess classes with her. It was her grandson, the one she always referred to as little robin. Apparently, the kid ran around saying “holy cows, Batman” more than he should when he was seven.

She told my parents he would move in with her soon, being the legal guardian his parents’ had asked for. “Car accident,” she’d mentioned. I had already spotted him in our algebra class a few times that week. He seemed advanced enough to take it before high school which only made him a bigger target.

Cooper nudged him, “Come on, that was hilarious.” Little Robin didn’t seem to have the same spirit Mrs. Grayson always talked about now and only gulped, averting his gaze. Cooper didn’t leave him though. “Cat got your tongue or something? I’ve never heard you say anything in class.” He towered over him, making him press his back even closer to the lockers.

I narrowed my eyes at them and walked over. I hadn’t precisely told Mrs. Grayson I would keep an eye out for him, but I felt like I needed to on her behalf. Sometimes she’d served as a babysitter of sorts when my parents traveled together. She was good to me. 

I elbowed Cooper’s friends out of the way and they gave angry glares until they recognized me. They decided to step away instead so I stood behind Cooper and tapped his shoulder.

“What-” he paused mid-sentence as he turned around, eyes locking on me, annoyed for the split second he realized I wasn’t one of his friends. Jaw clenched, he stood up straighter and then mumbled my name between a gritted-teeth smile. “Anything I can help you with?”

“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked, flatly.

He offered a charming smile. “Oh, just asking the genius for some tutoring classes. You know how bad I’m at Algebra. I thought I might as well ask him to teach me some stuff. Right George?” He elbowed the kid for a sign of confirmation.

I was pretty sure his name wasn’t George, yet Little Robin didn’t correct him either as he spared me a glance himself. There was a pause long enough to tell Cooper was lying. And though I knew that much already, in the end, the boy thought it was wiser to agree halfheartedly to the lie. Survival of the fittest. He wouldn’t disagree after Cooper established himself as an authority so firmly.

I remained silent, thinking of how to turn the situation around. The kid was new, he didn’t know what to do. It was like a game of poker. Bluff even if you don’t have the upper hand.

“He can’t tutor you,” I stated, earning a confused frown from both.

“And why is that?” Cooper crossed his arms, puffing out his chest. Good thing this wasn’t a matter of physical strength, and if it were, a strategy could give leverage either way.

“Because I asked him to tutor me already.” My turn to lie.

The boy blinked, trying to read between the lines of our conversation while Cooper narrowed his eyes at me. “I didn’t think you needed help with math, Clove.”

“Well, I do, and he promised to help me out.” I looked at the boy. “Right kid?”

Again he only blinked. 

Your turn to join the game Robin, don’t disappoint. It took him another second, but his eyes lit up with understanding and he stood up straighter. “Yeah, I um…I did.” 

Cooper glared at him and the kid broke eye contact, however, didn’t slump against the lockers anymore. Then the glowering was at me. 

I only raised my eyebrows in response, inciting a move from Cooper. His lip twitched, jaw set as I stared up at him. He knew better than to make a scene. I’d tied his hands. He couldn’t force Wilson to tutor him if I claimed he’d agreed to tutor me first. Bringing in a teacher to ��settle the situation’ was possible if I wanted too. There was no way for him to win.

Knowing how to pick his battles, he turned around to leave but I stopped him. “Wait.”

“What?” he groaned.

I crossed my arms. “Did you take any money from him?”

His eyes flashed as he swiveled around. I waited. He let out a breath through his nose before placing a grin on his face to hide unwillingness. If there was something Cooper hated was letting others know someone had been able to push his buttons.

He turned to the boy, taking a few bills out of his pocket, and forced his voice to sound friendly. “Hey, thanks for lending me the money kid, but turns out I might not need it anymore.” 

The boy stared at the money like it was on fire, but accepted its returns when he noticed my head gesture and the jock’s angry gaze. 

“Happy now,” Cooper muttered afterward. I shrugged and he stormed off as soon as he could, followed by the other two jerks. Once they were gone I looked back at him.

“You okay?”

His head snapped back in my direction. “What just..”

I didn’t let him finish the question and simply announced, “He lost the game.” 

His mouth opened to reply. Nothing came out and I glanced at my watch. If I didn’t get moving I’d have no chance to eat. “Stay out of his way and you’ll be fine.”

“Um… y-yeah, alright. Thanks.”

I nodded. “Clove Teasdale.”

“Geordi Wilson.”

George would have been better… I sized him up. His uniform was in pristine form: shirt tucked in, vest ironed to perfection, hair combed neatly and shoes as shiny as they could be. Not bad by any means, but definitely like he was trying too hard. He would need some help to survive around here.

I turned around to leave. “Stick with Wilson, kid.”