#with which I can only do about four worms at a time

[elrielbaby]

What do you think of the Gwynriels being too confident in their ship? Are you sure Az has feelings for Gwyn and is always looking for her and stuff? And what are they matte?

I have tried, really really tried, to see where they’re coming from. I’ve re read the books multiple times to ensure I’m not missing any context, I’ve looked at it through every angle possible and I still cannot fathom why they are so confident.

I have a couple of theories as to why they’re so confident and I’m feeling a little spicy today, so I’ll share. I could go in to heavy detail, but I’ll try keep it brief anon.

1. They hate Elain and so are looking for any other option. Literally anyone. G*yn happens to be in the bonus chapter and so they go with that, without really thinking about it* (I will circle back to this).

2. They blindly follow the word of one or two people online.They don’t like Elain, or they love L*cien (and they totally miss all the clues that say L*cien doesn’t actually want Elain but that’s a whole other can of worms) and so they accept other people’s interpretations - which those people very intentionally present as fact, and use them as a jumping off point, so when they go back to the books they have that other persons narrative in their head that far better suits their ideals and so they’re looking, twisting, turning any and all of the narrative to fit that. They are gaslighting themselves, basically.

3. They don’t re read the books and they don’t open themselves up to any other possibility. I can say for myself that before I started posting online about elriel, I had heard about G*riel after reading the books and re read them to be sure. I’m nearly positive a lot of them don’t do that, and either never re read or re read as per the second point.

As to the second part of this question, I don’t believe he’s got feelings for G*yn, nor do I think he’s always looking for her - so, I’m very sure of that. If you meant Elain, it’s pretty obviously laid out in the text, without SJM having Azriel and Elain say ‘I’M IN LOVE WITH HIM/HER AND I DONT CARE WHO KNOWS IT’ - because how does that make any sense when they haven’t had their book? If they had, I’d be less sure of their endgame.

As for the last part, I’m going to assume you’re asking if I think either G*yn or Elain are mated to Azriel. I do not believe G*yn is Azriels mate. At all. There are a few signs that Az & Elain could be, but it truly doesn’t matter to me if they are or not. I think SJM has been metaphorically winking at us with some of the things she’s said about them but it could go a number of ways, in terms of wether they’re mates or not.

One things for certain though - they’re endgame ❤️

* to circle back to them not really thinking about it, as I didn’t want to bog down the main text with this, they don’t seem to consider a number of different things.

They don’t consider that it’s a limited bonus chapter that was only available for one specific book store. It is not available in the copies of ACOSF you can buy now, nor was it available in a huge number of copies you could buy at its initial release.

They don’t seem to consider that if you remove the bonus chapter, we still have four books that include build up for them. It literally makes no odds as to wether the bonus matters or not. For them though? Most of their argument relies on that bonus chapter.

They don’t seem to consider any other reason as to why G would be in that bonus chapter. None whatsoever. The Elain part was explicitly romantic and if you look at G’s part there is no romanticism in sight. The ‘spark’ happened after a conversation with Clotho, not even when G was present. Almost like G didn’t actually have anything to do with it at all. If you connect the dots to the main text, at least for my interpretation, you have Elain & Az, who very clearly have feelings for one another. You have G, who has a powerful affect on Nesta, and Clotho who also has, to a smaller extent, a powerful affect on Nesta.

And those are just the few things off the top of my head that I have the bandwidth to come up with right now. ❤️

[gestippeldedieseltreinworm]

I knew today was gonna be a shit day when I realized I didn’t have any clean boxers left

[unopenablebox]

Holy God This Is All So Boring

i am taking microscope images of the cells i'm studying. the cells were grown on a glass plate before i fixed them (killed & chemically preserved), so by default a microscope image of them is taken from a camera below them, looking up through the glass. they're stained with fluorescent dyes for four different proteins, so every single picture has to be repeated four times with a different laser light illuminating the cells (imagine taking a photo with a red filter, a blue filter, and a green filter, and then composing them all together to get the full picture. it's actually almost exactly the opposite of that, but that's close enough).

i care mostly about how the cells are shaped in three dimensions, and i'm using a laser which is specially shaped so it can collect only a very thin slice of the cells in the Z-direction, without interference from the parts of the cells just above or just below what i'm taking pictures of. as a result, i need to take lots of pictures at different depths in the cells, so i can get slices that i can stack on top of each other and get back a 3D shape. also, because i am using a tiny concentrated beam of light to achieve the above effects, it has to scan across the image to collect each picture, like a scanner; it can't just be collected in a single snapshot like a photo.

the distance between one slice and the next is less than a quarter of a micrometer. i'm using a 63x magnified magnifying lens to magnify the image, and the light detector that picks up the light is specially made to allow the images to be processed even further, so i can resolve structures that are less than 200 nanometers, which is the Abbé limit and is the technical resolution limit of light microscopy (don't worry about this). i care about things that are the size of, like, three proteins stuck together, and therefore maybe 10nm wide, so this is important to me.

all of this is, you know, scientifically great, very useful to me, i'm getting some very interesting results that i am genuinely looking forward to thinking about more, except the upshot of all of this is that just getting a single picture of two cells from the bottom to top of the cells involves 80-100 slices and takes like 27 minutes per image to collect, and i need at least six pictures tonight, and certain bastards in certain other labs habitually pre-book the microscope so i can't use it except at 5-9pm on a friday. no one else is here in the lab and my mother is busy with elder care and my girlfriend is busy with like, groceries, so i can't call either of them even if i weren't too irritable to be good company, and oh my god, i am so bored, i am so so bored, i am bored enough even to type out this whole explanation even though none of you could possibly care because it took most of my current round of waiting for 27 minutes to do

[textmel8r]

[ SMAU + DRABBLE ] 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ! ( sixth installment ) in which you are forced to plan a corporate event with your office enemy .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.

୨୧˚ incl; kento nanami

୨୧˚ cw; profanity , mentions of sex

୨୧˚ an; so sorry if anyone asked to be tagged recently and you didn’t get tagged!! tumblr is being screwy again and i can’t see any of my comments😭😭 also apology time from nanami woo hoo!!!

Nanami stole yet another glance at the expensive watch wrapping around his wrist. Your promptness was certainly an issue; how does she show up nearly thirty minutes late to a meeting she called?

And then he scoffs at himself, giving a little shake of the head. Meeting? There he goes again, speaking in corporate tongue.

But finally, you do show up. Bursting through the entrance of the quiet café, making an embarrassing show of noisiness with your heaving breaths and wheezes. Not that it had been much of a disturbance to anyone else—only two other patrons resided in the small establishment; one too engrossed in her book to care, and the other scrolling mindlessly through his cellphone with a pastry in his free hand. Even so, you bashfully clapped two hands together as you peeked around the room. “Sorry!”

The older woman behind the counter nods in appreciation. Nanami can’t help but exhale roughly through his nose in sort of an almost-chuckle. God, you were a mess, weren’t you?

“Sorry, I’m so late!” You approached the table he resumed, one near the front window like you’d asked for. Your heels clopping against the grainy tile, knee-length dress flowing like water around your legs. He stands, walking to the opposite side of the tiny, rectangular table and pulling out the chair for you.

“Impressively late,” Nanami derides, but it’s not full of any malice. Truth be told, he did have the patience of a saint when situations like these were called to question. He didn’t mind waiting, because despite your utter tardiness, he trusted that you'd show up eventually, rather than ditching him altogether and leaving him to sulk in the humiliation of being stood up over a cup of black coffee. You were scatterbrained at times, yes, but dependable? Always.

Nanami returns to his side of the table after pushing your seat in. It wasn't meant to come across as a romantic gesture; Nanami had made it a habit of serving the women in his life nothing but a respectful demeanor. Whether it be lovers, colleagues, friends, and anyone in between. Though admittedly, his behavior towards you these past couple of months has been anything but respectful. It’s too late to start making amends to things, but the least Nanami can do now is try.

You shudder. Flustered, maybe? “Y’didn’t have to do that,” you tell him, placing your phone and clutch bag onto the table.

Nonsense. “My mother would have my head if she knew I let a lady pull out her own seat.” While true—his mother, bless her heart, raised him to be the gentleman his is today—he also just… wanted to do it. It felt right to serve you a seat.

Your elbow slams rudely on the table, finger reaching across to wag in his face. “Sounds like a good woman!” You laugh, and Nanami gingerly swats your hand away. He’s about to say something, but you beat him to the next sentence. “Hey, what gives? I thought this was supposed to be a day of relaxation?”

He worms under the scrutinized glare you wave up and down from his face to neck to chest to abdomen, finally peeking under the table to gawk at his shoes. Nanami curls his toes, a feeble attempt to shrink away from the judgement casted in your eyes. “What? Stop looking at me like that.”

“You’re dressed in fancy-man clothes.” At that, he takes it upon himself to look down at his wear; an ironed dress shirt clung to his chest, tie resting flat and perfectly centered between his pectorals. His slacks were ashy grey and devoid of any wrinkles, cut and hemmed around his ankles just above those stiff, leather shoes snug on his feet. The matching suit jacket was slung neatly over the backrest of Nanami’s chair, sleeves tucked away into its pockets.

His least expensive suit, sure, but still far too pristine and tidy for a little coffee shop outing. "Is it so bad that I like to remain presentable?" Nanami offers the question while he busies his hands, plucking open the pearlescent buttons at his wrists and rolling back the sleeves off the off-white button down.

"Presentability and discomfort don't always go hand in hand, you know. I mean, look at me," your voice echoes the mocking tone of cockiness, clearly a joke but also not at the same time. With a gesture towards yourself, you beam and shimmy in the simple, breezy dress. It had a floral pattern, Nanami notices. "Cute, stylish, and comfortable."

He isn't jumping to disagree with that. "Sorry, all my sun dresses were in the wash." He surprises himself with the jest, but it has you splitting an unladylike snort, so he doesn't come to regret it.

The toe of a thick, wedged heel jabs into his sock-clad ankle. "You business men are all so sassy." Nanami glowers at the adjective chosen to describe him, but doesn't refute. You sigh. "It's fine, I guess. Nothing we can do about it now. Wear some sweats next time though, would you?"

Next time. There’d be a repeat of this?

“Sure.”

“Great.” Your toothy grin beams over your clutch purse, of which is now wrangled in your grabby hands. Rifling through its unorganized contents, dumping out tubes of chapstick, loose change, and sticks of gum onto the table before fishing out a wallet. “Right, I’m starved. Did you look over the menu any?”

Nanami looked it over five times during the wait, if not for anything other than something to pass time. “Not really. Tell me what you recommend.”

You bite. Rambling about the array of pastries and baked goods that have been worthy enough to be placed in the category of y/n’s favorites. Nanami soaks in your excited, leaning in ever so slightly with open ears a you passionately ramble about cake.

“I take it you come here often?”

The question has you nodding. “Like, all the time man. This is my spot, you should be so grateful that I’m not a gatekeeper.” You look back at the menu once more before verbally deciding: “I want pistachio cheesecake and peppermint tea.”

The man poorly stifles his chuckle, rising from his seat. "Alright then, stay here. I'll go order."

"Oh, okay thanks." You shove your wallet into the wall of Nanami's chest, "take my card with you."

He is bewildered that you would even think he'd let you pay for your own meal. "I've got it," Nanami tells you, gently pushing the leather thing back to you.

"Nanami, stop."

"Stop what?"

"Take my fucking wallet," you gnarr, and he thinks you look much like a soaked kitten in this state of agitation. "Don't make me slap you."

It's an unserious threat, but Nanami plays a long. He raises two thick, blonde eyebrows. "Jesus, okay, you win. Just please keep your hands to yourself.” He revels in your little smirk of satisfaction, snatching your wallet back before making his way to the front counter.

Nanami kindly asked for two slices of pistachio cheese cake and two drinks; for you, peppermint tea, and him a coffee, black. Of course, everything was charged to his card. You didn’t need to know that, though.

You scarfed your portion down with swiftness, slinging spoonfuls of chartreuse custard into your mouth with such savagery that Nanami feared you might choke. He was a much more serene sight, preferring to savor each bite between slow swigs of piping coffee. The dark roast complimented the nutty pistachio flavor stunningly. For such a nameless little eatery, the food was exquisite. He takes another calculated bite of cake.

“You like?” The question was garbled behind a mouthful, cheesecake clinging to your milky teeth as you smiled brightly. A childlike excitement radiated warmly off you, clouding across the table to heat him up, too. It was sweet how wired you were, hopeful that he’d, too, enjoy your choice of confection.

Nanami huffs, amused. “Swallow before you choke.” You make a show of swallowing, a big hearty gulp with your eyes squeezed shut. “And yes, I like it a lot. Your tastes are surprisingly refined.”

“Surprisingly?” You gape, offended.

Nanami wants to crack a quip, something referring to your sub-par taste in men, but this little get together was nice. Yeah, it was really nice, actually. So he refrained from ruining it like the asshole he’d been lately, and drowned the snide remark with another toss of coffee. “Sorry, sorry.”

The remainder of the evening was cushy; you both fell into easy conversation about the randomest of topics. Discussions that never breached corporate subject matter, and he was eternally grateful for that. You spoke in tangents, whistling appreciation for a new movie you caught recently, to describing a long list of bands you enjoy, to lamenting about the headache that your minty iced tea sprang upon you: “Ah, brainfreeze!” Nanami doesn’t add much to the conversation, but he is content to listen and provide little hums of encouragement to urge you to keep talking. His eyes, inquisitive honey-colored things, found your lips and stayed there. Despite the uncouth display in which you carry yourself ( Nanami had been itching to tell you to close your legs, what with the way you sit spread-thighed in your seat donning that dress. So careless and unabashed. If the cafe had been a little more crowded, had a little more men around, and he might’ve slipped his foot over the imaginary boundary line to your side underneath the table and nudged them shut himself ) there was an elegance in the way you spoke about topics of interest. Passion flourished from the little curve of your lips, teeth bared in a great smile because you really were just that happy. Nanami feels envious when he watches you.

“I’m shocked at how well this is going.” You grin cheekily, licking cream from the pad of your thumb. “Kind of makes me sad that we didn’t get off on the right foot, you know? I think we could've been good friends.”

“Is it too late for atonement?” Nanami bites back a frown. “I understand if you can never see me as anything other than an asshole. But I never got to formally apologize for my behavior these past few months, Y/n. And I’d like to, if you’ll let me.” Why was this humiliating? It was a seldom occurrence when Nanami was in the wrong, but he was never one to let his faults drift by unaddressed. You deserve an apology—a proper one, not over measly text messages. Still, he miscalculated how awkward this would be. 

You flail. “A formal apology? Nanami please, a simple ‘I’m sorry’ will work. It doesn’t have to be a whole thing, I’m mostly over it anyway.” But that was a lie and an obvious one, at that. You weren’t over it, he could see it in your eyes.

The blonde clears his throat and rubs his hands together mindlessly. “No, please. It’s long overdue, and if we’re going to be working in alliance, then you deserve to feel secure with me.” Though Nanami’s hands wrench restlessly, his gaze never detracts from yours. He bares his sincerity in the intense eye contact, offering a peek into his soul. Vulnerability. “I’ve been nothing but rude and ignorant and vulgar towards you, ever since…”

“That night.” You finish for him. “It really upset you, huh?” 

“Yeah, I guess it did.”

“Why? Do you have a revulsion to sex or something?”

“What? Wh—I—No, t-that’s not…” Nanami sputtered, his ears growing warm from your accusation. “I don’t… mind sex?”

You play with the dainty straw flouncing around your drink, seemingly oblivious to Nanami’s flummoxed reaction. “You seem to have a strong opinion of whores, though.”

He groans, embarrassed with himself, and drags a palm down his pallor face. “Who you choose to sleep with does not make you a whore. It never did, I was just being petty and grasping at straws for anything that would get a reaction out of you.” Nanami runs his tongue over the roof of his mouth, inwardly wishing that the mug of coffee before him would turn to water so he could cure the dryness that ached in his throat.

“Why go through the trouble?”

Nanami opens his mouth, then closes it. Then opens again, “I don’t know.”

A piss poor attempt at playing the fool. Surely there was a reason for his unabashed cruelty towards you, but what the fuck was it? “Well, when you figure it out, let me know?” To his utter surprise, your expression doesn’t hold an ounce of animosity; you’re smiling at him. Finding humor in any situation had to be your special talent. Nanami nods dumbly. “In the meantime, you’ll just have to start making it up to me. You were a dick, big time.”

“I know,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“Hmmm,” you make a comical show of humming, touching your index to the point of your chin, and now Nanami knows you’re fucking with him. “Hmmm, hmmm, hmmm. I guess I can start the forgiving process if…” A pause for dramatic effect? The man raises his brows expectantly. “You and I make this,” you gesture between both bodies at the table, “a weekly thing.”

Nanami was expecting a punishment, but this suggestion was anything but. “I’ll need to take a look at my schedule first.”

“Listen, man, do what you gotta do. But I’m telling you, we are getting together at least once a weekend.” You scrub the corners of your lips with a napkin before crumpling it into a tight ball and discarding it on your empty plate. Nanami looks down at his own to see a healthy portion of his cake left. Wordlessly, he slides his plate across the table, and you accept the offering with open arms. “Oh shit, thanks! Like I was saying, this is fun, what we’re doing here. You’re having a good time, right?”

Sitting in a desolate coffee shop and listening to you prattle on has been the most fun he’s had in a devastatingly long time. “Yes, I am.”

“Good. You look fun-deprived.”

Fuck, I am. “I’m not.”

“Keep lying, I see through them all.” You scoop the last bite of Nanami’s cheesecake into your mouth, sighing with satisfaction and rubbing over your full tummy. “Anyway, I think hanging out would be good for us. Healthy, you know? Besides, I’ve been dying to know what off-duty Nanami looks like.”

He cracks a chuckle. “He’s nothing special.”

Your finger snaps in his face, invading his bubble of personal space, but this time he doesn’t shoo you off. “Another lie!”

likes and reblogs are appreciated !

tags . • @justbelljust @amnmich @ti-mame @silkija @maddietries @vyntagei @ebrysteria @aesukuni @lololooolleonnaaa @nanamiswife22 @r0ckst4rjk @mizzfizz @saiki-enthusiast @taelattecookie @enchantingkitty @kindadolly @reinam00n @hqtoge @syamamas @numblytemporary @xxravenxstarxx-blog @bloomedintome @guacam011y @jameinfrau @luvvmae @kazisupreme @nowhoremones @https-tank @venjrnjrbhrr19 @ya9amicide @darkstarlight82

[jasmines-library]

Would it be too much to request a batsis oneshot, about her knowing how to cook😆 like whenever Alfred is not available he leaves her in charge to help ensure the other family members are eating without buring down the house🤭 also a lil thing u could add is she often visits the manor just to cook cuz Alfred always keeps the kitchen fully stocked with ingredients which means she can cook pretty much anything she desires💜 I just thought it'd be cute to have Bruce be envious of his daughters cooking skills whereas he lacks them🤭

Kitchen Antics

Thanks for requesting! This was cute to write!

Word Count: 1k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

“I still don’t think this is very fair.” Bruce pouted as you slid the plate in front of him.

“Hm?”

“This.” He gestured to the plate that you had served to him, piled to the brim. It had taken you hours to prepare, especially without Alfred’s help, but it was well worth it. “How come Alfred lets you cook and not me. I’m a fully grown adult. I should be allowed to cook a meal for my family.”

“Maybe it’s because you can’t actually cook.” You threw over your shoulder with a smug grin. 

That earnt a snort from Damian which he hid poorly behind a hand. Bruce shot him an unamused look. 

“Can too.” Bruce said. This time you raised a brow as you slid into your seat.

“Oh yeah, because the last time you cooked it turned out great.” Jason rolled his eyes. 

You remember it distinctly. It was one of the first times Alfred was away and had reluctantly let Bruce use the kitchen. He had regretted it the moment he returned because his kitchen was hardly recognisable. And the food Bruce had cooked was less so. If you could even count it as food. It was the furthest thing from edible. Somehow undercooked and burnt to a crisp around the edges at the same time. Even Alfred wasn’t sure how he managed to do that, and he had seen almost everything when baking with the rest of your brothers. It was safe to say that Bruce was no longer allowed in the kitchen after that. So, the responsibility turned to you. 

Alfred had always said you had a natural talent for cooking, though you swore it was because you had the best teacher: You had spent countless hours helping him when you were younger and you were the only person he didn’t seem to physically wince at when you walked into the kitchen. So, naturally when he announced he was leaving this week he entrusted you to make sure the family were fed without the entire manor being burnt down, or being filled with takeout boxes.

Your brothers had tried countless times to worm their way into the kitchen, but you ushered them out every time. They were just as bad as Bruce when it came to cooking. There was one time Damian and Dick had tried to bake a cake to surprise Bruce on his birthday. And it did…when the fire they had started nearly set the whole kitchen alight. Luckily Alfred had smelt it before any real damage could happen, but the pair of adults were far from happy. Jason had never shown much interest in cooking. He would usually just grab himself a snack from one of the cupboards instead of actually cooking himself something, so he had never really been an issue to keep out. Though, often he would try to sabotage your work just to wind you up. As for Tim, he was the best out of the four boys. By no means a master at work, it was often slightly bland but he was the only one who hadn’t tried to kill everyone with his cooking so he got bonus points for that. 

“That was one time.” Bruce turned his head away, pouting like a small child.

“Tt. Father, I think you’ve tried to poison us every time you’ve gone near the kitchen.” Damian jested through a mouthful of food. “Perhaps you should ask Joker to try it. Might take a villain off of our hands.”

Tim stifled a laugh. “This is lovely, Y/N. Thank you.”

You smiled. “Thank you.”

The six of you fell into a comfortable silence as you ate, before Bruce finally spoke up again. Cutting through the sound of cutlery scraping against china plates.

“Is my cooking really that bad?”

He was answered with silence. And a lot of smirks.

“...Are you jealous of Y/N, Father?” Dick grinned.

“Psh…No.”

Bruce was a terrible liar. 

~

“Do you need any assistance, Miss Y/N?” Alfred poked his head around the kitchen door. He had returned from his trip not too long ago, glad to see that everyone had been well fed and that the house was still in one piece. 

Glancing up from the bowl of ingredients you were whisking, you met Alfred’s proud glance. “No thank you, Alfred. You already have everything I need.”

Alfred smiled up at you. It was nice for you to stop by once in a while to see them. He enjoyed seeing you cook. Better yet he enjoyed tasting your new creations each week so he kept everything stocked, even if he knew he wouldn’t need it himself. The shelves were lined with all sorts of spices, flours, sugars and ingredients for you to create something new so that if you ever decided to stop by (which you liked to do at least once a week) he would have everything  you could ever need.

Your brothers loved it when you would bring over food to them too. Most of it would be gone in minutes and they would turn to you asking for more. Bruce would do the same too, although he would still have that look of teasing jealousy on his face. But he was proud really. And glad that at least one of his children had enough common sense to not set the entire manor alight when baking a cake. 

BATFAM TAGLIST:

@aestheticdaisies

@hell-o-kittys

@xxrougefangxx

@mamapucket

@hearts4robs

@harleycao

[wileys-russo]

before the void (fresa's version 2.0) II a.putellas

before the void one two II filling the void one two three four five six you can all say thanks to @girlgenius1111 for filling my head with this idea xx

before the void (fresa's version 2.0) II a.putellas

though you were incredibly outspoken now and for the most part a rather fearless teenager, there was once a time that the thought of public speaking made your stomach churn.

you remember where it all started, when you were just six years old.

you'd been given a task in class to write a short fictional story, and even at that young of an age your work was admirable, to the point your teacher after reading it had kept you back in class.

a very flustered eli had sought you out once she'd been informed of your whereabouts by the front office after being unable to find you during pick up.

rushing toward your classroom panic coursed through her at what might have happened for you to be held after class, memories of things your sisters had done over the years to get in trouble never leaving her mind.

though it was sheer relief and overwhelming pride that replaced it shortly after she'd joined you and been asked to read your story.

your teacher then informed that she'd like you to read it aloud at the upcoming end of year performance for the school at the end of the week, and without so much as a look in your direction your mami agreed.

now you were already set to perform, the kindergarten classes all teaming up for an adorable christmas themed group dance number. and initially you hadn't been worried about that, you were with your friends and everything in rehearsals had been kept very light and fun.

you didn't quite understand what your teacher meant when she explained before eli arrived what she wanted you to do, instead just blushing red in embarrassment with the praise about your story, immediately seeking out comfort in your mami's arms once she arrived.

it wasn't until you returned home and it was explained to you properly that you really understood what had been agreed for you to do.

you'd been told time and time again all afternoon by both your sisters and your mami how proud everyone was, your story passed around and read over and over, but the bomb about you performing eli had waited until dinner to drop.

"like all by herself, her own special moment? fres! that is so cool hermana." alba grinned as you frowned, confused by what she meant. "hey what did we say about pulling ugly faces nena." alexia teased, reaching over to smooth out your eyebrows as you pushed her hand away.

"by myself?" you questioned, frowning again and directing the question toward eli who nodded. "sí hija, you will stand up on the stage in front of everyone and read your story!" eli beamed happily but your frown only deepened.

"lots of people?" you questioned again but it was missed as your family all started to plan who they would invite, alexia already having planned on bringing jenni and now eli readying to extend the invitation to almost your whole family.

"do i have to?" you spoke up again, this time not ignored but rather shrinking a little under the three sets of eyes that turned to you, dropping your own gaze to your plate of food, pushing it around rather than eating it.

"sí. you made a commitment to your teacher fresa, but this will be exciting! like alba said, a very special moment all about you." eli smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face as you nodded.

"you're done?" alexia asked in shock as you pushed your plate away, food barely touched despite your normal seemingly endless appetite, a running joke in the family you had a worm in your stomach which ate all your food.

"no! i trained all day, i get it. you didn't do anything alba you don't even walk to school!" your sisters immediately began to argue over your leftovers as eli tried to play peacemaker before it turned physical.

in any other instance your silence might be noted as odd. you were a boisterous kid by nature, with two outspoken older sisters to compete with for attention you knew how to stand up for yourself and assert yourself despite your age.

but you were caught up in how strange you suddenly felt.

your stomach was twisted up like a knotted rope, your hands a little wet and clammy, chest felt all tight like when you got the flu and couldn't stop coughing, the back of your neck felt very itchy and strange, and suddenly your clothes didn't feel like they fit you properly as you fidgeted and tugged at them in your seat.

"hey!" you were snapped out of it by a hand tugging at your hair, glaring up at alexia who stood beside your chair.

"i'm on dishes which means you're helping me dry hermanita, or else i'll have to drown you in the sink!" your nerves disappeared as suddenly you were hanging upside down over her shoulder, giggles filling the air and your performance now pushed to the back of your mind where it belonged.

but it all surfaced once again the next day at school when instead of returning to class with your friends after dance class you had to stay back to practice reading your story.

"now see all these chairs fresa? on friday night they will be filled with people! your mami reserved a lot of tickets so your whole family must be coming to cheer you on, i am sure they are very very proud of you." your teacher smiled kindly, squatted down beside you as you stood up on stage.

there wasn't more than a hundred chairs, after all you didn't go to a huge school, most of the grades only had about thirty to forty kids. but to you it may as well have been a million chairs, and suddenly the room felt both huge and tiny at the same time.

"no." was all you managed out, that weird feeling from last night returning as you gripped your story in your hands. "no? why would they not be proud!" your teacher laughed, misunderstanding as she stood.

"now when you read fresa we have to make sure we speak loudly and clearly and-" your teacher started as you shook your head furiously. "no!" you repeated, scrunching your story up and dropping it to the ground, running off the stage.

you were held back again after that outburst, assured softly by your teacher that if you were too nervous she wouldn't make you read your story, leaving the decision up to you.

nervous, a new word and a new feeling.

but though it seemed the decision was up to you, and your teacher might have said that, alexia thought otherwise.

it was her turn to pick you up from school that day, already running late having left training to collect you before returning as she always did on wednesdays. so to have to be held up again by coming to meet your teacher she was flustered on arrival.

"fres? vamos nena you're coming to training with me." the older girl appeared in the doorway, nearly knocked off her feet with the force in which you hurtled yourself into her legs, a grunt leaving her mouth as she grabbed the doorframe and steadied herself.

"hey hey hermana what has happened? why are you upset huh?" her demeanor instantly shifted, squatting down and hugging you properly as she caught the eye of your teacher who gave an empathetic smile.

"fresa is a little nervous about reading her story on friday." the older woman explained as alexia stood, a hand on your head as your body sagged into hers with a sigh too deep for someone only six years of age, but that was missed by your sister.

"nervous? by friday she will be fine, we will help her practice at home." alexia assured confidently, your teacher frowning a little. "if she does not want to do it she-" the woman started as alexia cut her off with a wave, moving your hair out of your face.

"she will be fine, gracias. now if that is all?" alexia raised an eyebrow as your teacher stammered for a moment before nodding, taken aback by the abrupt confidence of the ninteen year old in front of her who smiled and thanked her again before guiding you away.

"what was all that about, you are nervous?" alexia asked after you were securely buckled into your seat and she was back behind the drivers wheel, catching your eye for a moment in the rear view mirror as you shrugged, not really knowing what that meant.

"standing up there, i felt weird." you struggled to answer your sister who hummed. "nerves are normal pequeña, they are healthy. it means that you care, that you are excited!" alexia smiled in an attempt to reassure you, something which did nothing to move the frown from your feature.

"i don't want to read my story." you answered firmly, crossing your arms with a huff. "well you will be reading it hermana, you made a commitment. putellas women do not go back on our commitments!" alexia reminded, catching your eye again as she stopped at a red light, almost to the training facility.

"no." "sí." "no." "sí." "no! i'm not doing it, my teacher said i didn't have to." you raised your voice right as alexia pulled into her parking spot, turning around properly now the car was shut off.

"fresa. mami has invited the family, jenni is coming, alba and i will be there, and everyone is very excited and very proud. do you want to let them down? make them sad that they do not get to hear your story?" alexia questioned raising an eyebrow, not understanding what was even making you nervous, you didn't get nervous.

"no." you mumbled, dropping your gaze and kicking your feet out, that strange feeling having been bugging you ever since rehearsal as you pulled at the collar of your shirt.

the door beside you opened, alexia unbuckling you and grabbing your school bag as you slipped out of the car. "hey, stop that." your sister knelt down, tugging your hands away from where you fidgeted and pulled at your clothes.

"do i really have to read it out in front of everybody?" you asked, hitting alexia with your best puppy dog eyes making her chuckle. "sí, but we will all be there to support you. vale?" your sister smiled in satisfaction as you nodded, taking her hand and following after her into the building.

normally you were beyond excited whenever you accompanied her to training, sprinting off to greet all the staff and warned time and time again by your sister not to run ahead where she couldn't see you.

but today there was none of that, you clung tightly to alexia and barely gave the staff a smile as everyone said their hello's and the pair of you headed for the locker room.

your sister hoped changing you out of your school clothes and into something you could run around in might perk you up but it didn't work, and as each of her teammates tried to greet you again you barely acknowledged anyone.

alexia just chalked it up to you being tired knowing majority of today you'd been in dance rehearsals, a letter of warning having been sent home earlier in the week that the end of year concert meant less actual scholastic work would be done in the days leading up to it, eli needing to sign her permission for you to engage with this.

and though your sister might not have picked up on your strange mood being a little more than that, someone did.

"hola chiqui." jenni knelt down in front of you where you sat by alexia's cubby, knees tucked to your chest. "hi." you mumbled quietly, sending her the tiniest of smiles as your sisters girlfriend frowned at the out of character behaviour.

"hey your sister told me about your story! thats very exciting." jenni tried with a big grin, poking at you as you only shrugged. "are you coming to see?" you asked, shuffling around and pulling uncomfortably at your top, wiping your hands on your knees.

"of course pequeña!" jenni beamed proudly, but that faded seeing the look on your face at her answer. "do you not want me to come?" jenni asked softly, moving to take a seat beside you.

"i don't want anyone to come." you muttered, glaring at the ground, alexia catching jenni's eye and sending a curious look which the tattooed footballer waved off, hanging back with you for a moment as the rest of the girls filed out for the afternoon session.

"vale. it is just you and me now fresa, why are you upset?" jenni tugged you to sit on her knee, tensing up for a second as you didn't hesitate to bury your face in her shoulder, gripping tightly to her jersey.

"hey hey hey, whats wrong fresita? do you want me to get alexia?" jenni asked worriedly feeling your small body start to tremble as she hugged you tightly, knowing that was always the best way to soothe you. she was even more surprised at the way your head shook firmly side to side at the mention of your sister.

"i don't want to do it!" you pulled your head away and looked up at her pleadingly, the older girl wiping the stray tears from the corner of your eye as she melted. "don't want to do what? hey fresa, in and out por favor." jenni reminded soothingly as you started to hyperventilate a little, copying her breathing as your body calmed a little.

"now, using your words pequeña. why are you upset?" jenni asked softly, lifting your chin up as your head flopped to look at the ground. "i don't want to read my story." you spoke clearer this time, though not offering any explanation even when jenni gently prompted you for one.

"everyone says i have to, but i don't want to. i can't jenni!" you started to become upset again as jenni quickly stood, holding you on her hip like when you were younger, making her way slowly out of the change rooms hoping some sun might help your mood.

"vale. how about i talk to your sister about your story, and you go sit with andre to help him like you always do. sí?" jenni placed you back down, nodding to one of the assistant defensive coaches who was waiting for you, knowing you came with alexia every wednesday and always finding little things for you to do to help pass the time.

"hey! not so fast." jenni grabbed the back of your shirt as you went to race off. "i did not get a proper hello." your sisters girlfriend pretended to be offended, softening as finally a smile returned to your face and you launched at her in a hug.

"fresa hugs are the best hugs, gracias." jenni sighed, shaking you for a moment and rewarded with a small giggle for her efforts. "ah! beso?" she tapped her cheek as you tried to run off again, amused at the way your eyes rolled and you quickly kissed her cheek.

"no eye rolling! more and more like alexia every single day." jenni groaned playfully, rolling her own eyes as you gasped. "you just did it!" you accused, pushing her shoulder.

"i am allowed to, vamos baby putellas. go help andre!" jenni pushed you back by the forehead, dodging the way your tiny arm swung at her with a huff. "i am six now jenni, i am not a baby." you warned before marching off to andre.

"yeah jenni, she is six now!" the girl turned around at the familiar voice, standing up and pushing at her girlfriend who grinned. "you are a bad influence on her amor, so much atttiude in such a small body." jenni tutted as the two of them wandered back to the team.

"don't look at me, that attitude is pure alba!" alexia laughed in defense as jenni rolled her eyes and hummed. "hey-" the tattooed forward stopped for a moment. "about the story, she really does not want to do it ale." jenni warned quietly, surprised at the way your sister seemed to brush it off.

"sí, she is a little nervous. thats normal! healthy, we will help her be ready." alexia shrugged as jenni shook her off. "no, alexia. she was really upset, i have not seen-" jenni was cut off by the blow of the whistle, alexia jogging off toward the rest of the team before her girlfriend followed after her with a sigh.

by the end of training your mood was back to normal, the strange feeling from earlier going away again as you were kept too busy to even give your story a thought.

but after dinner that night, everything changed.

you'd finished getting ready for bed changed into warm pyjamas from the dryer with your bear in hand, knowing you had another half hour until you really had to go to bed and intending to con one of your sisters into letting you control the tv until then.

but you were stumped to see that on your return to the living room it was changed dramatically.

the entire room had been rearranged, the dining room chairs moved to be stacked in rows and one right at the head of them, the couches pushed to the side.

"alexia are you really sure this is-" alba asked again with a concerned frown, jenni having messaged her about your odd behaviour since it didn't seem your eldest sister was taking it seriously.

"hermana!" alexia cheered seeing you, hurrying over as alba sighed but plastered a smile on her face. "why are the chairs here?" you asked with a frown, alexia handing you your story as suddenly the strange feeling returned.

"well since you are nervous pequeña, we are going to practice so you are not nervous!" alexia answered, grabbing under your arms and carrying you over to the chair at the front and standing you up on it. "red." you frowned as your sister took her from your grip.

"you can't have it on stage with you nena, this is supposed to be like the real thing." alexia explained as you deflated a little but nodded.

"pretend we are at your concert. i will be sat here, alba there, and jenni and mami and all the family will be sat watching you, and all your friends families too!" alexia smiled in a way that was supposed to be reassuring but it just made you feel worse.

"but hermana if-" alba started, noticing right away that you'd suddenly gone a shade more pale and seemed to be fidgeting in a way that wasn't normal, tugging at your clothes and rubbing your free hand against your leg.

"alba." alexia cut her off with a warning glare, the two having been bickering back and forth since the topic was raised, disagreeing on how to go about dealing with it, eli out for dinner with some work friends.

"now. remember what your teacher said fres, speak loud and clear so everyone can hear! because there will be lots of people all the way to the back of the hall and we want all of them to hear you." alexia waved for you to start reading as she and alba settled into their chairs, several of your toys filling the other ones which was alba's doing in her own attempt to try and calm you.

you nodded and swallowed hard, holding up your story and all but burying your face in it, mumbling along. "no no no, not like that." alexia shook her head and stood as alba sighed and dragged a hand down her face.

"when you read for people you have to look at them, so they know you are speaking to them." alexia took your story and stood beside you.

"you read a sentence, remember it, and then look up and say it. then you look at the page again, read it, remember it, look up and say it. vale?" alexia explained as you nodded slowly and she handed you your story back.

"you are overwhelming her, she's six alexia!" alba hissed quietly, dismissed with a wave as alexia sat back down. "go fresa. nice and loud!" your sister encouraged, your knees shaking slightly as your face felt hot and you shifted.

just like before the strange feeling returned as you felt your sisters eyes pierce into you, imagining what it would be like with hundreds more as you stammered through the first few words of your story.

"eyes up fresa! remember, read and look up. read and look up!" alexia coached, not meaning to come off as strict as she did but not realising she was only making you feel worse.

"speak clearly fresa!" "remember, you want everyone to hear." "no hermana, look up more!" "we will all be here watching you, supporting you." "you don't want anyone to be disappointed, no?"

her words echoed around your head until they were all you could hear and the strange feelings intensified. your stomach was twisted and churning, hands wet and clammy, chest all tight like you couldn't breathe properly, back of your neck itchy, and your clothes didn't feel like they fit you properly.

then, then came the nausea, followed by the contents of your stomach all over the floor.

"fresa!" alexia hadn't meant to shout, she really hadn't. but she was shocked at what had just happened and thinking she was mad at you you took off, dropping your story and sprinting away.

"nice alexia." alba snapped, standing up and shoving at the older girls shoulders before sprinting off after you.

with another bath and a new set of pyjamas, both of your sisters put aside their argument to promise you weren't in any trouble and tuck you into bed, alexia quite sure you'd only end up in hers later on anyway.

but the bickering resumed the moment you were asleep and your door clicked shut, eli returning home and frowning at the sound of the hushed argument, the vomit cleaned up and living room put back to how it normally was.

"hey!" your mami's voice was firm and commanding as she placed her bag down, both of your sisters falling silent and looking over guiltily, eli raising her eyebrow silently asking for an explanation.

"fresa cannot read her story." "fresa is a little nervous."

both girls glared at one another at the conflicting sentences, at eli's request taking turns to give their sides of the story about tonight.

"she was sick?" eli frowned, sat at the table now with a concerned frown. "sí. it is more than nerves mami, she is terrified!" alba stuck up for you as alexia made a dismissive noise.

"she probably ate her dinner too fast, you know how she gets. she will be fine mami! she just needs to practice." alexia spoke, shooting her younger sister a dirty look who rolled her eyes, both girls awaiting eli's verdict.

"vale, i will speak with your hermanita tomorrow."

but tomorrow, things got even worse.

your nerves now taking over entirely you'd refused to even participate in the dance you'd spent weeks learning, faking a stomach ache and being sent to the nurses office, but your teacher saw right through you.

"hola mi hija." you looked up from the bed you were sat on in the nurses office, a sick bag and a bottle of water untouched beside you, your feet hitting the floor and your body ramming into eli's legs as she sighed.

she'd already spoken with your teacher who'd called, raising concerns for your odd behavior and just like she had with alexia promising there was no pressure for you to read your story, or participate in the dance if that was too much.

eli promised to speak with you tonight about everything, and that was still her intention but she knew you'd be more comfortable having the conversation not at school.

so pulled out early you headed home, uncharacteristically silent in the back seat the entire way there, your mami not pushing you to say more than the few words it seemed you were able to.

"hija. your teacher told me you do not want to read your story, can you tell me why?" eli asked softly, having made you a snack and allowed you some time to settle down before she raised the topic again, not missing the way you immediately began to fidget.

but all she got was a shrug, and not for any malicious reason, you really weren't sure why you were feeling this way about reading the story, and so you weren't able to actually verbalize it.

"vale. well, if you do not want to fresa, you do not have to." eli promised as you looked up with wide eyes. "really?" you questioned as your mami nodded. "no. it would be good if you could try, but if you cannot, then that is okay too." eli assured as you frowned and nodded, the older woman dropping the topic for now and leaving you in front of the tv.

you seemed back to your normal self by the evening, racing around playing a game entertaining yourself as alba was locked away studying for something and alexia was yet to return home from training, dinner almost ready.

"fresa!" alexia groaned as she'd barely stepped foot inside before you were zooming through her legs, almost taking her down to the ground as alba snickered in amusement helping eli to set the table.

"it is a new game she made up, be nice." eli warned, alexia rolling her eyes as alba stood and you raced through her legs too, counting along with the points system nobody but you understood.

having showered at training your eldest sister dumped her things in her room, returning to the table right as dinner was served, all four of you chattering away as usual and you again seemed back to your normal self.

but again, everything changed after dinner.

once more alexia had told you to practice, alba had voiced her argument and eli had silenced both of them. handing you your story and curious to see if you displayed the same behaviors alba had reported the night before and alexia had dismissed.

"remember fresa. read, look up, speak. loud and clear, vale?" alexia coached, ignoring the way alba's eyes bore daggers into the side of her head, the room at least not set up like it was last night but still you were stood on a chair in front of the three of them.

just like last night and every time before, the strange feelings burst forth from where they'd been laid in hiding, biding their time and waiting for the right time to resurface.

your stomach twisted and churning, hands wet and clammy, chest all tight like you couldn't breathe properly, back of your neck itchy, and clothes didn't feel like they fit you properly, your spare hand tugging and pulling as you shifted on your feet.

"vamos fresa." alexia clicked, eli sat between both her daughters really the only barrier to alba knocking some sense into her older sister, grateful for eli nudging her eldest and subtly shaking her head.

"i can't." you shook your head after opening and closing your mouth a few times, trying to read but the words wouldn't come out, stuck in the back of your throat.

"you can." alexia argued, waving for you to. "no." you shook your head, knees trembling as alba frowned. "go fresa. read, you are fine!" alexia spoke a little more sternly, much like her coaches would to her on the pitch, misreading the situation all together.

"alexia." eli warned quietly, but it fell on deaf ears. "mami said i didn't have to, miss luisa said i didn't have to. i'm not reading it!" your own tone of voice raised, nerves bubbling over into frustration as to why your sister wouldn't listen to you.

"you are being silly fresa. read it!" alexia ordered, her own patience running thin. "no!" you yelled now, spare hand balling into a fist. "alexia-" eli began again but your sister was already up to her feet.

"you made a commitment, putellas women do not give up on commitments. you will read your story here, and you will read your story tomorrow. you are fine fresa, so read it, now!" alexia warned, and then it all bubbled over and you snapped.

"i hate you!" you screamed, ripping up the piece of paper with your story on it in half, jumping down from the chair and sprinting off to your room, throwing your door closed as hard as you should as it slammed shut.

a string of angry spanish curses filled the room as alba lunged at alexia, the two bickering quickly and aggresively, shoving one another around before eli yelled for them to stop and pushed her way in the middle.

"you are so selfish and stupid and stubborn and-" alba started, becoming too frustrated to even get her words out. "as much as you think she is alexia she is not just like you. she is normal! she gets nervous! but that, that is more than nervous-" alba growled, yelling now over eli's head who was still attempting to diffuse things.

"she is terrified and you just push and you push and you push, and you made it worse! imbécil testarudo." alba spat, wrenching her arm away and storming off after you, alexia scoffing at the dramatics with a roll of her eyes.

"sit." eli ordered sternly, the taller brunette giving her a look which quickly withered away at the one she got in return, sitting down in defeat as alba knocked at your door.

"hola hermanita, it is just me. can i come in?" alba called out softly, taking your silence as a yes as she pushed open the door. but she frowned closing it again and unable to see you anywhere, calling out your name.

finally, a noise in your wardrobe which was firmly shut.

"are you going to come out hermana?" alba asked gently, taking a seat by the wardrobe door, hearing a faint no echo out from inside. "vale, we will just talk like this then." your sister promised, nothing sounding in return.

"or i can talk, and you just knock on the door. two for yes, three for no." two knocks sounded making alba smile and tuck her knees up to her chest.

"do you want to read your story tomorrow pequeña?" three knocks sounded. "it makes you feel...bad to read your story in front of people?" two knocks. "you think you will let everyone down, make them sad, if you do not read your story?" two knocks again. "but you really don't want to read it?" three knocks one more time.

"okay, then you will not have to read it hermanita. i promise i will speak to mami, and to alexia." a slight creak sounded, the door opening just a sliver.

"can you come out? i need a fresa hug." alba cooed encouragingly, knocking on the door but not making a move to open it herself not wanting to push you.

"i can't." "why not?" "i'm stuck."

"stuck? is the door jammed?" alba frowned, reaching over and pushing it a little as it easily slid, a small hand sneaking out and slapping hers away from inside.

"promise me...no laughing!" you warned, voice muffled as alba frowned and agreed. but as the door opened properly and you emerged, a hand had to be slapped over her mouth to stop the sixteeen year old collapsing into laughter.

"oh fresita..." alba trailed off clearly amused as you sat in your wardrobe, head stuffed into one of your papi's old motorcycle helmets, arms crossed against your chest.

"ven aquí idiota." alba chuckled, offering you her hand which you took and allowed her to pull you from the wardrobe, now stood in front of her. "where did you even find this nena?" alba asked with a smile, fiddling with the clasp which was indeed stuck.

"garage. helps me think!" you huffed, stomping your foot impatiently as finally with a few little wiggles your sister pulled the clasp free, carefully tugging the helmet off and placing it down on your floor.

"there, much better." alba smiled, opening her arms as you collapsed into them, body sagging into hers and a very deep sigh exhaled into her shoulder as she rubbed your back.

"promise i don't have to read my story?" you mumbled, arms locked around her neck. "pinky promise." your sister poked you gently, holding up her hand as you locked your pinky with hers, each kissing the others hand.

you both sat in silence for a little while, your sister playing with your hair and rubbing your back feeling the tension in your body slowly dissapate.

"hey fres?" finally she spoke, your head pulled away as now you both sat cross legged on your floor facing each other. "when you have to read, does your stomach feel a little funny?" you nodded at that.

"your face gets a little hot?" nodding again. "your clothes don't feel right? a little itchy? tight?" nodding again.

"and my hands get all wet!" you piped up, alba now nodding in understanding. "guess what?" she questioned as you looked on cluelessly. "i feel like that too, when i have to take a test at school." your sister revealed honestly, pulling a face and successfully getting a smile from you.

"really?" "really."

"you know what helps me?" alba asked as you shook your head. "hand out." your sister motioned as you frowned but did as she asked, eyes widening at the small woven bracelet she slipped onto your wrist, tying it up so it sat loosely but not enough to move much up and down your arm.

"whenever i feel like that, i play with one of my bracelets, and it helps me feel better!" your sister promised, holding out her own hand where several other bracelets sat.

"so you don't have to read your story hermanita, i promise. but if you ever feel like that, you can always talk to me about it, or you can play with my bracelet and think of something happy. take your mind off whatever is making you feel icky, like reading the story." again you nodded, a proper smile on your face now as you launched at the older girl in a hug.

catching eli's eye who was hovering in the doorway alba gave a small thumbs up, the older woman nodding in understanding and leaving the two of you to it.

a knock sounded shortly after, though as alba looked up this time her eyes narrowed as alexia shifted from foot to foot in the doorway. "fresa?" she called out hopefully, your head peering around to look at her.

"can we talk please?" alexia asked softly, a hopeful look in her eyes as you stood and began to make your way over. "no." you answered firmly, pushing at her legs until she was out of the doorway, slamming it shut again as your eldest sisters eyes widened in shock.

"alexia." her name sounded as her hand was on the doorknob, ready to push it open and try again, looking over her shoulder as eli sent her a look.

"try again tomorrow hija, give her a little space."

but as friday rolled around, your attitude toward her only worsened.

of a morning alexia was always the one who helped you get ready for school. she would help you pack your bag, check you had everything, do your hair for you, help you pick what to wear and sit with you at breakfast normally coloring something in together.

but this morning, you wanted nothing to do with her.

eli packed your bag, alba did your hair and helped you get ready, you sat with alba at breakfast and anytime alexia tried to speak to you all she got was a frown and your body turned the other way, each action like a punch to the gut.

she watched on helplessly as you hugged and kissed alba goodbye, ignoring her once again before you raced out the door, eli sending her eldest a sympathetic look before following after you to the car.

alba also opted for the silent treatment with alexia before she left for school herself, not having been given any sort of apology from her sister she wasn't going to be the one to extend the olive branch given she was right.

that day at school for you was the same as the last, you refused to participate in rehearsals, sitting out to the side by yourself and watching your friends all giggle and run around.

a note in your pocket from your mami handed to your teacher earlier that morning explaining you wouldn't be able to read, your teacher promising she understood and giving you a few small tasks to try and keep you engaged throughout the day.

when you returned home that afternoon it took a little convincing but you agreed to still attend the concert, eli gently explaining it wasn't kind not to go and watch your friends which you'd agreed with, grateful that only your sisters, jenni and mami were coming, the rest of your family coming over for a barbecue on sunday instead after alexias game.

alba taking you to go and wish your friends good luck alexia purposefully kept the seat between her and jenni free, hopeful that you might choose to sit there even if it was just to be closer to jenni and not her.

but when you returned you blanked her entirely, opting to sit wedged in the same seat as alba, jenni rubbing her girlfriends back in comfort as the lights dimmed and she deflated, at a loss for how to make things up to you for once.

for alexia this was uncharted territory. she had always been your favourite, she was always the one you sought out for comfort, she was who you'd sit with anytime you could, she was who you went to when you had a problem.

but now, just trying her best in her own to help you overcome something she didn't want plaguing you for years to come, she'd gone about everything all wrong and the barcelona midfielder was miserable at the results.

after the concert things only got worse. it was late, you were tired, and you were even more clingy than normal.

normally when in these overstimulated moods you'd find yourself spending the night in alexia's bed, curled up with your sister who would trace shapes on your back until you fell asleep and braid your hair so that it would be all wavy in the morning when she took it out.

and that was the comfort you sought out, but with alba, and not with alexia.

the entire weekend in fact you avoided her like she had a disease, out of the house most of saturday at a birthday party removed any chance of alexia trying to fix things, and then not even going to her game on sunday given you'd spent the night at your abuela and abuelo's.

finally, sunday afternoon rolled around and coming off of a 7-0 win alexia was in an invigorated mood to make things better with you, your entire family gathering together meaning you were in the best mood you'd been in all week.

so much so, alba was surprised when you'd tugged at her pants, pulling her out of conversation with one of your cousins.

"i want to read my story." you announced when it was just the two of you alone in your room, alba all but dragged there the moment she'd excused herself. "really?" your sister asked in surprise, taking a seat beside you on your bed.

"sí, i have your magic bracelet to help me now. but will you help me?" you asked hopefully, a small smile coming across the older girls face as you fidgeted with her bracelet on your wrist. "of course pequeña. what do you need me to do?" alba asked gently as you jumped down from your bed.

"fix this." you held up the two halves of paper containing your story with a frown, alba hesitating for a moment as things ticked over in her head. "mm i am not very good at fixing stories fresa. but you know who is?" you shook your head, lowering the two halves with a sigh.

"alexia." alba promised, not missing the conflicted look which crossed your features. "ven aquí." the girl lifted you back up and onto your bed. "i know ale upset you. but she is very very sorry, and i know she misses you." alba continued softly as you shook your head.

"no she doesn't, she's mad at me." you sighed again, pulling at the bracelet and refusing to look up. "mad at you? why would she be mad at you hermana?" alba asked confused as to where this was coming from.

"i didn't do my commitment." you mumbled as alba exhaled, suddenly now putting the pieces together now of why you'd been avoiding your eldest sister like the plague.

"hey, fresa look at me." you did as she asked. "alexia would never ever be mad at you for that. she loves you very very much, maybe even more than me." alba added on teasingly, poking your side as you gave a little giggle and pushed away her hand.

"really?" "prometo. so why don't you go and ask her to fix your story, and then both of us can stand with you while you read it to everyone. would that help?" alba asked gently as you nodded.

"vamos!" alba motioned to the door, chuckling as you took off right away, zooming through and around the family members littering the house, avoiding every cheek pinch and hair ruffle you could.

alexia was sat with a few of your tio's discussing the match, jenni's own parents in town meant she wasn't there to indulge her pity party so she'd opted for the other thing which always made her feel better, talking about football.

but all of that came to a screaming halt as suddenly you appeared, tapping her knee and holding up the two halves of paper. "can you fix this for me please?" you asked hopefully, alexia catching alba's eye across the yard who sent her a nod.

"of course." alexia promised taking the paper off of you, standing and cautiously offering you her hand, almost melting in relief when finally you accepted, pulling her into the house.

a few pieces of tape and a ruler later and the story was whole enough for you to read again, alba quickly texting alexia the contents of your conversation so she knew the real reason you'd seemed so upset with her.

sat up on the desk in your sisters room as she'd worked you thanked her as she handed you the now mended story, alexia taking a seat in the chair by your feet.

"fresa." she'd called for your attention as your eyes scanned over your story, mumbling under your breath. "i am very proud of you." the older girl started softly as you frowned, confused. "why?"

"well, because even though it took me a little longer to see it, you expressed your feelings and your needs and you stood up for what was best for you." alexia started, absentmindedly drumming her fingers against your shoes.

"nena i am very very sorry that i did not listen to you. sometimes i think that i am always right, and that i know what is best for everyone, but you knew what was best for you. you told us that, and that makes me very very proud of you fresa." your sister promised, grunting as suddenly you swung yourself off the desk and into her lap, arms wrapping around her neck.

"i missed your hugs, fresa hugs are the best hugs." your sister mumbled affectionately, kissing the top of your head and squeezing you tightly.

"sorry i said i hate you. i promise i don't hate you, and i am proud of you!" alexia couldn't help but grin as your small hands fell to her cheeks and you frowned up at her as seriously as you could muster.

"gracias pequeña. i love you very very much!" alexia promised, her own hands falling to your cheeks and smooshing them together as you whined and pushed them away.

"more than alba?" you asked, a cheeky grin on your face as alexia shook her head with an amusement smile. "maybe. but don't you tell her that diablillo!" alexia warned, pinching your cheeks again and helping you down.

"its okay...she already knows!"

[ranticore]

you mentioned wyrms retract the human-ish head to eat, do you have an idea of how that works, anatomically? I'm trying to imagine a cross section of those necks with separate tubes for air, food, the head and the spine. does the head get packed tight in some kind of sleeve? It would be really cool to see that cross section

(also would love to know more about the time Rev spent as a disembodied head, that must have been really weird)

well i was meaning to draw it anyway

the "human" portion (referred to as the head yes all of it) has its own heart, lungs, and accessory oesophagus, though it doesn't have its own stomach. there's a little crop which is the remains of the human stomach, kind of like an appendix now really. the accessory oesophagus (green) connects to the main crop in the chest area, running parallel to the dragon oesophagus but not attaching to it. when the head is out, the dragon mouth is occupied anyway so it doesn't need to eat and the oesophagus is a squishy tube that is collapsed when not in use (unlike the trachea) so there's no issues with space here, it's fine.

the lungs in the head area are only minorly used for gas exchange - they provide very little oxygen, really, but enough to keep that human part running in a very hypoxic state in the case of decapitation. Mostly they're just used to draw air over the vocal chords. If the lungs in the main body were compromised somehow, the wyrm would straight up cease to function (not death. but comatose), while if the head lungs broke, eh nbd it just means no voice until they heal. there is a syrinx inside the chest cavity which provides additional vocals - deep infrasound rumbles. the main lungs are gigantic and in larger wyrms will extend further into the body. in the case of multiple heads, there are multiple syrinxes where the tracheas connect to the lungs and that means they can produce polyphonic rumbles :) breathing is done through the dragon nostrils, there's a sizeable cavity there for their good sense of smell. in case you are wondering how they sync up their breaths when there's multiple heads, the lungs are birdlike in that it's a series of air sacs and a passive inhalation, and an active exhalation governed by different lobes of the lung at once (using the air sacs). each head has its own lobe. so the wyrm is in a constant state of inhaling and exhaling at different rates (if there's multiple heads)

the dragon oesophagus is the main one and it leads to a crop, which is where the wyrm denatures the powerful toxins of their prey and forms a pellet out of the inedible mandibles and spicules found within a crawling beast. this is spat up later and buried (no longer poisonous so nbd). edible portions go to the stomach. the liver is very big and very strong, it's almost impossible to poison a wyrm in any way (including drugs, alcohol, etc)

so the thing about the wyrms is that the number of legs is variable, Revelation obviously has two, Onozar has four. But the two that Revelation has are actually its forelegs! The torso extends quite a bit into what we would consider the Tail area, it's rather snakelike.

as a disembodied head, Rev had no heart, no functioning lungs, and was also completely paralysed because of the severed nerve cord in its (human) neck. literally from the jaw down it couldn't move, which is what made it such a convincing corpse. life was very underwhelming for it since it was essentially running on extreme battery saver mode, always watching and sensing the world but never truly perceiving what it saw and heard and felt. animals made nests in its chest cavity, and it was infested with scavenging worms for a while, but its own flesh is distasteful to other living beings and nothing did enough damage to actually cause decomposition. just some nasty wounds.

Rev needed Wildfire to literally rip up a crawler and put the meat in its mouth before any attempts at healing could be made. when it finally got its lungs working again it found they were full of detritus - dust, spores, roots, random stuff. growing back the lower body would have taken decades more if it continued at the same pace, so it used a little bit of magic and Wildfire's other tiercels' flesh to construct the most basic shape of its lower body, and once it had those bits intact it could start properly gaining strength and growing.

[janeyseymour]

Won't You Be... My Neighbor?- pt 4

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

super quick installment because @schemmentis wants the torture to drag on despite her claiming none of this is her fault

Summary: Joe shows up.

WC: 1.1k

(this gif is exactly what mel wishes she would've done to joe but doesnt)

Your eyes jump open at the woman’s earpiercing scream. And when they open, Joe is standing over top of the two of you.

“What the fuck?!” he screams as he winds up his bat again. Melissa raises her arms in self-defense, but its futile when the metal bat still comes into contact with her body and she yelps out in pain again. She falls to the floor, and before you can get up, the bat is hitting you too. You refuse to show any signs of pain or weakness though.

“You divorce me for fucking around with the babysitter, only for me to find you fucking your lawyer the day our divorce is finalized?!” he slurs out. His bat comes down on her a few more times while you’re still hissing in pain, and you swear you can hear her ribs crack as he delivers the final blow to her body.

Melissa lays there, clutching at her ribs and gasping out for air. And then he’s swinging at you again.

In reality, the two of you should be able to fend him off. Being snuck up on and jolted out of your dreaming state though makes it much harder as you try to blink away the sleep in your eyes while also trying to defend yourself and hissing out in pain from the first strike.

“G-get JJ,” Melissa croaks out, not even bothering to fight the pain at this point as she cries freely.

Almost in an instant, your eyes and Joe’s go wide, and you both race for the bedrooms. You’re faster than him, of course you are. He’s drunk, and you are stone cold sober and running on adrenaline at the mention of the innocent little boy hopefully still sleeping peacefully (although you’re not sure how he could possibly still be sleeping with his mother’s loud cries). Speed doesn’t matter though. Even with you trying to wrestle the bat out of his hands as you enter the hall, he’s able to strike you- once in the side, and once in the knee. At the blow to the knee, you stumble and fall. 

He’s able to get ahead of you, and he violently whips the door to his son’s bedroom open. He snatches the little boy from his bed harshly enough that JJ wakes up with a small cry.

“Shut the fuck up,” the grown man seethes. “Shut the fuck up!”

He stumbles out into the hallway, where you’ve just managed to pick yourself up off the ground. At the sight of that sweet little boy that has wormed his way into your heart, you see red. You never understood those stories that you would hear about adrenaline taking over and being able to do things that shouldn’t be possible, but here you are. There’s a fire in your eyes as you wrestle JJ out of the arms of a man who is easily double your size and cradle him as closely to your chest as you possibly can. You’re able to stumble your way into the bathroom and lock the door before Joe can get to you again.

“Y/N,” JJ cries as he clings to you, absolutely terrified. “Is this a nightmare? Why can’t I wake up?!”

“It’s real life, honey,” you whisper as you lean against the door. “But I have you, and you’re going to be okay, and your father can’t-” There’s a force against the door, and it shakes you where you stand pressed up against the piece of wood. “He can’t get to us,” you say quickly. You glance at the window. You’re on the second floor, and if it were just you, you would fly through it and deal with the injuries later. But with JJ? You don’t know if you can do that. You don’t know which option is safer at this point- flying through a second story window with a four year old cradled to your chest, or facing the wrath of a drunk and belligerent man hellbent on getting his son back.

Before you can decide though, he comes crashing through the door. Apparently his adrenaline is flowing now too in the haste to get to his son. You fight with him tooth and nail to keep that little boy in your arms, but when Joe throws a mean right hook that collides with your jaw, your grip loosens just enough for the man to grab JJ. Unfortunately, the little boy still has his arms clasped tightly around your neck, and when Joe pries him off, you can see the way that his shoulder pops out of its socket. The blood curdling scream that the youngest Schemmenti lets out is forever embedded in your head. The man is able to throw another punch at you, successfully temporarily stopping you from fighting with all your might just enough to get a head start on you. And then, Joe is off.

With the absolute searing pain now very apparent in your leg, you do your best to run after him, but by the time you make your way out the front door, you see his car peeling away with that little boy inside.

Defeated, you hobble your way back into the apartment complex. You wonder how no one on your floor had woken at the commotion. When you get back to Melissa’s her door is wide open, and she’s still laying there on the floor clutching at where Joe had struck her. Despite the pain rippling through your body, you kneel down next to her.

“Please,” she whispers through tears. “Please tell me you got JJ.”

You shake your head. “Joe has him. But I’m going to call 9-1-1, I’m going to tell them he broke and entered, we need an ambulance for you, and that an amber alert needs to go out on JJ.”

“I- I’m going to kill him,” Melissa hisses as she tries to sit up.

You gently push her back down to the floor. “You need to stay down while I make calls.”

It doesn’t take long for you to rattle off the necessary information to the call center, and when you come back, Melissa is still lying there gripping at her side.

“They’re coming,” you whisper as you sit down next to her. “They already have cops combing the area for him. He’s not going to get away with this.”

“He might,” the redhead groans out. “The motherfucker knows his way around.”

“He isn’t getting away with it this time,” you promise her. “And when they catch him, he’s never coming back.”

TAGS, and let me know if you want to be added! : @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson

[momotonescreaming]

Teenage Dream - Part 5

AKA - the Jeff and Eddie have crushes on jocks series Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

“Jeff!” Eddie shouted, voice raised over the roar of the cars entering the student car park. Jeff whipped his head to look over at his friend, waving his arm from the other side of the car park, hanging out of the side of the van. “Dude!”

Vinnie gave him a look, raising a judgemental eyebrow in such a way that only middle schoolers could, as Eddie hollered for his attention. He was in no position to judge, Jeff’s met his friends.

Jeff sneered back, gently shoving at his brother’s shoulder, pushing him in the general direction of the middle school. “Move it, squirt, or you’ll be late.”

“As if,” Vinnie huffed, rolling his eyes, but walking off anyway. Brothers.

By the time Vinnie had left, Eddie was across the car park, leaning on the roof of Jeff’s old Ford. Keys in his hand, jingling against his rings. “He giving you shit?”

“When is he not?” Jeff replied, swinging his bag over his shoulder as he locked his car. Falling into step with Eddie, the pair walking in tandem towards the doors to Hawkins High. He found himself scanning the crowds, looking for Frank, or Gareth, or any of the Hellfire freshies. He found himself scanning for strawberry blonde hair, for blue eyes, for the familiar green of the cheerleader uniforms.

“He giving you shit about Chrissy,” Eddie sing songs, biting his lip and smiling as he nudges his shoulder against Jeff’s. He’s not shouting it from the rooftops, which is nice, but man, Eddie could stand to be a lot quieter. If anyone heard, Jeff was going to give Eddie a wedgie.

“Oh shut up,” Jeff replies, although he laughs as he shoves at Eddie back. “He doesn’t know and he’s not gonna.”

“Boo.” Eddie says, fake pouting. “That’s no fun.”

“You’re just saying that because you have no siblings,” Jeff replies, pushing open the doors and heading into the halls of Hawkins High. “Would you want someone in your house constantly giving you shit? I’m not giving them both any ammunition to be more annoying than they already are.”

“I mean,” Eddie starts, dragging out the word. “I have Wayne.”

“You told Uncle Wayne?” Jeff asks, brow furrowed as they manoeuvre through the halls to Eddie’s locker. He knew Eddie was out to Wayne — that it was part of the reason he was staying with Wayne and not his father (before he got shipped off to prison. But he didn’t think Eddie would openly admit his crush on Harrington to him like that. It would open a whole can of worms. Imply that there was something more. Something serious. If he was telling Wayne about it. It’s basically one step removed from meeting the parents. “About you and you-know-who?”

“Well no,” Eddie admits with a tilt of his head, swerving out of the way of a gaggle of sophomores, taking up the entire width of the hall. “But the old man can read me like a book. He knows things, I’m sure of it.”

Jeff snorts, leaning against the lockers as they stop at Eddie’s. Watching as he unlocks it, and sifts through the piles of shit he’s got in there. “You always say that about him, though. What makes this different?”

“He’s giving me looks, you know?” Eddie says into his locker, pulling out a ragged notebook and a stray textbook, before turning back to Jeff. “He’s figuring things out and he's going to be insufferable about it.”

Jeff snorts as Eddie shuts his locker, books in hand, as they head towards Jeff’s. They’ve still got time for once, normally Jeff heads to his locker alone, and Eddie arrives in a flurry later — speeding into the parking lot with a screech of his tyres. “Because your uncle has nothing better to do than speculate about your secret love life?”

“Exactly,” Eddie jokes, grinning back at Jeff. “But enough about me. Do you think you’ll meet her in your free period again?”

And thank god Eddie didn’t say her name, not here, surrounded by the teenage sharks of Hawkins. Any glimpse of vulnerability, something to exploit, the bottom feeders getting too big for their station — it was brutal.

“I’m not that lucky,” Jeff laughs, nudging Eddie’s side with his elbow.

“Wanna bet?” Eddie jokes, nudging Jeff’s side with his elbow. He’s biting his tongue to hold back his laughter.

“One’s enough thanks,” He replies. “And I am winning that one, by the way.”

“Oh eat shit Jeff,” Eddie laughs, before sobering dramatically, whirling around to face him. Continuing to walk down the hall at an angle, not looking where he’s going, Eddie continues. “But anyway, you can tell me how you wrong you are about you-know-who at band practice tonight.”

Jeff just rolls his eyes again, smiling, and heads to class.

—

There’s a buzzing, an itch, an anticipation, the second the bell rings and it’s Jeff’s free period. It bubbles up underneath his skin, threatening to break through, and nothing will quell it. Nothing except seeing her, or perhaps the confirmed absence of her presence.

He packs up his things, leaves the classroom, and heads towards the library. He has all his things — he can’t procrastinate by getting something from his locker. Plus, someone will absolutely try and steal his table if he does.

That’s his table, dammit.

So Jeff sighs — quietly, under his breath — and weaves through the halls to the library, hitching his bag further onto his shoulder. Eyes down, walking fast, avoiding the eye of any jock or jerk who might be lingering in the halls. It’s easier, when Hellfire is all together, a united force. It’s also easier with Eddie, acting larger than life, scary and dramatic — to scare the jocks away. Also helps that he’s the high school’s only dealer. If he cuts them off — and he will — then they’re fucked.

So he makes it to the library without incident — nodding a silent greeting to the librarian — before he weaves through the stacks to the shelf he needs. There’s a book he needs to check through for his English essay, and he’s reached the point where he’s stuck without it.

Bag hanging off one shoulder, weighing him down, making him feel more off kilter than normal — Jeff tilts his head as he reads through the spines of the books. Gently tabbing through them, pushing them aside with his fingers, trying desperately to ignore the swooping of his stomach. His wandering mind.

He’s not alone in the library, there are others wandering the shelves, claiming the tables, and Jeff absently watches them out of the corner of his eye. He doesn’t see any strawberry blonde hair, no cheerleader uniform, so he averts his gaze back to the stacks. Swallows his tongue.

Sighing — he tries to be quiet about it, so people don’t glare at him, so the librarian doesn’t shush him — and eventually finds his book. Slides it out of the shelf, tucks it under one arms, and weaves his way back to his table. Off to the side, near the back of the library, nice and quiet. Undisturbed, not like the tables in the centre, right by the librarians desk. There’s always chatter, always people, always large study groups. It was peaceful at his table, no one else usually came by, but Jeff couldn’t help but wish for company this time.

And it was like he had jinxed it.

Rounding the corner, Jeff looks over to find someone sitting at his table. Jolting in place, eyes wide, he finds a pair of clear blue eyes looking at his.

Chrissy shrugs, almost shrinking into herself as she gives him a little wave. Smiling shyly, cheeks flushing, as she looks at him from over the table. Sat in her seat from last time, leaving Jeff’s usual seat free, her books and papers spread out on her half of the table. Hair curled out of her face, pinned back with pale green pins. Her eyeshadow matches, because of course it does. It’s cute. She’s cute, as usual.

“Funny seeing you here,” Jeff jokes, smiling shyly back at Chrissy, heading closer so he can take his usual seat. Puts his book on the table, places his bag down at his feet, and slides into the chair.

“Hey Jeff,” She says, voice light, almost a giggle as she watches him from over the table. He likes the way his name sounds in her mouth, the way her tongue forms around it, shaping the sounds. Lips curling around the letters, pink and pert,  and shining with gloss. “Hope it’s okay I’m at your table. I was a little worried you weren’t gonna show up in time and wanted to save it for you.”

“That’s okay,” Jeff replies, smiling, feeling his heart flutter in his chest and butterflies swoop in his stomach. Was Chrissy waiting for him? Did she sit at his table so she could see him? Was he someone she wanted to take the time to see? He felt a little giddy, lost in the feeling, the delusion of it. The fantasy of being someone Chrissy wanted to see. “Thanks for saving it for me.”

“It was no worries,” Chrissy giggles, and he tries not to look at the subtle flush across her cheeks. “As long as you don’t mind a little company?”

“’Course not,” Jeff replies, trying to smother his own smile, not look too obvious. “It’s nice to have you.”

He watches as she bites her bottom lip, looks down at her notes, and then back up at Jeff, looking through her lashes. Coy, almost shy, tentative. Looks away himself, dragging his gaze away from hers, reaching down to get the rest of his things out of his bag. His notebook and pens, a worn copy of the book they’re supposed to be writing an essay on, dog-eared and sun-faded. Places it on the table next to the book from the stacks — from the same author, so he can do some fancy compare and contrasting that he knows the teacher is a sucker for.

Opens his notebook, finds his essay draft, and tries not to let his mind wander. To let his gaze find its way back to her like a magnet, pulled together inevitably. To find himself doodling love hearts on the page. So he finds his place, and tries to write. To let the ideas flow through him, seeping into the page along with the ink of his pen.

He lets the ticking of the clock fade into the background, with the hum of students going out their business, and the scratch of his pen on the page. The sound of Chrissy’s pen on the page. Actually gets some writing done, makes a solid dent in his English essay.

And so he lets himself drift for a second, sneak a glance at Chrissy — only to find her looking back. She curls into herself — shy, embarrassed, giggling — with a hand over her mouth to smother the sound. But she can’t stop looking at him. And he can’t stop looking at her back. Maybe he’s imagining it, but it feels like there’s something there. And if that something is only friendship, a fleeting crush — he’ll take it. He won’t push her for more than she’s willing to give. He’s lucky to get this much. Her sitting at his table, remembering his name, waiting for him.

He ducks his head, huffs out a laugh that’s more an exhale of air than anything else, and looks back up at Chrissy. She’s still looking at him.

“Sorry,” she says through her hand. “I’m staring like a total weirdo.”

“I like weird,” Jeff says, feeling like he’s melting and sounding entirely too sincere about it. “If you couldn’t tell.”

“Well in that case, thanks.” She laughs, moving her hand away so he can see how much she’s smiling. She looks down and bites her lips, pausing, considering — before looking back up at him. Locking eyes.

“We share all the same free period’s right?” Chrissy continues. “Would you want to meet here tomorrow, like, officially. Be study buddies.”

Oh fuck, Jeff thinks. She’s so cute. She wants to meet him again. Eddie is going to be absolutely insufferable about this. Because of course he is. Jeff’s glad he didn’t take that bet.

Something swells in his chest, expanding his lungs, covering his insides with something as sweet and sticky as honey. He smiles at her, letting that sweetness seep out of him. “I’d like that.”

Tag List: @goosesister @scarlet-malfoy @mavernanche @manda-panda-monium @yoriposts @grtwdsmwhr @panicatthediaz @m-owo-n @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaosgremlinmunson @thespaceantwhowrites @perseus-notjackson @eyesofshinigami @hotluncheddie @novacorpsrecruit @nburkhardt @pansexuality-activated @silentiumdelirium @steaddie-on @steddie-as-they-go @redfreckledwolf @lavender248 @actualwakingnightmare

[coolbeesbro]

TGOFC Leshy Facts (Chapter 6 Spoilers)

There's so much that goes into each character in my au, and the last chapter I dropped had a bunch of lore for Leshy's character, and I just felt like compiling the minute facts that might be overlooked in light of the story that genuinely bring me joy.

Unlike the other siblings, Leshy was just a regular chaser worm who was evolved into something more human (even though humans aren't a thing in this universe, I can't think of a term that would convey the same thing here) through the power of the Green Crown. The others were like regular people already capable of complex thinking, bipedal etc., who came to find their crown one way or another (I'll go into them more in their own posts), so in comparison Leshy is more unpredictable and overall feral in his actions and mannerisms. He also still has a strong connection with the worms and can communicate with them perfectly fine, giving him an advantage over prior gods of Chaos who couldn't control them at all.

Some examples of him being more animalistic is the fact that he's being prone to biting just because, and still having urges like burrowing underground being more comfortable for him than sleeping in an actual bed, and randomly making strange little noises. He also thinks nothing about eating through and ripping up the floorboards in his house, and has Heket bring him spare lumber to store as a "little snack" when he's too lazy to get up and go to the dining hall and raid the kitchen. Every sibling's homes are reflective of their personalities, and where Heket, Kallamar, Narinder and Shamura have furniture and decor, Leshy's home, though normal looking from the outside, is literally just an empty room with the majority of the floorboards ripped up or gnawed through, looking like a storm ripped through the inside of his home. He has no furniture or decor outside of a few potted plants gifted to him by Tebryn (au yellow cat).

Another thing, and this might be controversial, is that he's actually terrible when it comes to taking care of plants. Almost every plant he owns is either dead, or on the brink of death, but he doesn't really know it since he can't see for himself that they are. He use to be good at it, but that ended up being 100% the Green Crown's power. Having not been capable of thinking past basic animal instincts prior to becoming a god, he can't fathom that he might not actually know what he's doing. Tebryn teases him lightly about it, but also doesn't have the heart to tell him that the plants in his window died months ago. There's one plant that's hanging on by a thread, an overwatered camellia bonsai that's now really just a stick in dirt with 3 leaves, and it only stays alive because Tebryn repots and tends to it when Leshy isn't paying attention. That doesn't stop Leshy from attempting to unintentionally over-trim the tree, much to Tebryn's dismay.

When he was still just a baby up until his toddler years, he would often just run around naked (only covered by leaves) and Heket would struggle to just get him to keep at least his cloak on (there'll be a flashback to a scene like that later on). One second he would be fully clothed, she would look away for just a moment, then look back to see Leshy running away on all fours with his clothes in a trail behind him. Now, if not for the fact that he'd get a lecture from the others on why he needs to stay clothed out in public, he would probably be in the nude 24/7.

As a product of his rapid evolution, his appearance from what chaser worms are in present day is drastically different; since while they evolved over time, he was like a preservation of their past. Like how he burrows into dirt, where they no longer have to due to evolution giving them large horns and a larger/tougher build for protection. Instinctually, he still attaches sticks to his head, which was both a defense mechanism of sorts along with helping with hunting. Being partly burrowed in the ground helped him feel vibrations of things walking near him; and with his head sticking up past the dirt, he looked more shrub-like so predators wouldn't go after him, and also prey would be more inclined to walk near him or use him as shelter, making for easier meals.

I also decided to make him a trans man, because why does Shamura get to be the only trans one (also as a youngest child who's a trans man I decided that my comfort character WILL be trans as well.)? With the help of Kallamar he's able to transition with HRT and other surgeries. Nobody but his siblings know he's trans, and is 100% passing as cis to everyone else. He's also the shortest of all the siblings, followed by Shamura, then Narinder, Heket and Kallamar.

There's definitely more than this, but my god I realized just how long this was getting so I'll end it here unless people want me to make a continuation.

[milolovesbmc]

Thinking about Bowtie Productions Falsettos, and I see no one talking about it, so here's a fun little thing I noticed!!

During March of the Falsettos, the men are wearing baseball uniforms, i think it's interesting how in this specific production, the mens childishness is shown by (their love for) sports. As in, in the bit in MOTF where they're muttering and talking at the very start they're muttering "baseball" and sport related stuff, which I think is a really interesting way of portraying this immaturity.

Anyways, where I'm getting with this is, their baseball (MOTF) uniforms say Falsettos at the front, which I think is really funny, because that means this literally is the march of the Falsettos, they're LITERALLY the Falsettos. In the back, they each have a different number, like you would have in any baseball uniform, and THAT'S what I want to focus on. I think this is really well done because MOTF is all about how Trina views the men, as childish and immature, but also about how she views each of them:

Starting off with the most obvious one, Whizzer's says 69, which wildly known to be the number of/the number that represents sex, this is because Trina views him as lustful, this could tie back to the view/belief that existed at the time around gay men being overly sexual and perverted, but that's a whole other can of worms I could get into some other time.

Marvin's says 01, which very obviously is tied with being the first, the one on the top, the best, basically. This is tied to his need to control everything and everyone, of "wanting it all", he needs to be at the top so that everyone will do as he says.

Moving on, Jason's number is 13. In Judaism, 13 signifies the age at which one becomes a man, due to this being the age at which a Jewish child has his Bar Mitzvah. Obviously, in MOTF, Jason isn't 13 yet, he's somewhere around the age of 10 or 11 years old, and we actually get to see him get Bar Mitzvah'd during the end act 2. This could signify how, even though he's not literally a man yet according to Judaism, Trina views him as one. Jason's portrayed as the most mature of the four men, seeing as he is the only one who isn't singing in Falsetto (in a high voice), this is how Trina thinks of him.

Finally, the one I'm most interested by, Mendel's says 42. Funnily enough, I first thought this was a reference to 420 (since they couldn't put a 3 digit number) and they were somehow implying Mendel smoked weed or something, I don't know why but that was what I first thought of. However, 42 is apparently the number gives as the answer by a supercomputer to “the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything.” in a novel by Douglas Adams, making this number signify the answer to the ultimate question (the meaning of the universe, everything, to put it simply). Was this intentional? Most probably not, but I think it's really fascinating that Mendel has this specific number, it could signify how during Trina's song (previous to MOTF) Trina treats marrying Mendel as the thing that'll change her life, the thing that will (supposedly) finally make her happy, she sees (her upcoming marriage with) Mendel as the answer to everything.

[atearyamallari]

Bath, Bed, and Late Night Phone Calls

This is another entry for @tmnt-write-fight. Get attacked, @untitled-tmnt-blog! This was the prompt I had answered:

New dad Splinter is very unprepared but is trying the best he can.

Not a parent, but having worked closely with children, I can tell you that parenting is hard. Hope you all enjoy the story! (and if you're reading this, I recommend having tissues nearby)

Words: 3669

Rating: Gen

Tags: Fluff, Family Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Minor Character Death, Bubble Bath, Sad Ending, Bittersweet Ending, Bittersweet.

Iteration: Rise of the TMNT

You can also check out the fic here on AO3!

Enjoy!

\\

Splinter looked at his sons as they cuddled on the couch together, watching one of his films. Admittedly, it wasn’t the best thing to show to children – violence toned down was still violence, after all – but he didn’t have any other movies for them. Besides, putting something on the TV was one of the only ways he could get all four of them to calm down and be quiet for longer than ten minutes. And the boys seemed to really enjoy this movie in particular; their jaws were slack, and their eyes twinkled with awe as they watched Lou Jitsu beat up a dozen bad guys on screen.

Little did they know that Lou Jitsu was standing nearby, and that he was going to pull the rug out from under them. He snatched up the remote with his tail and turned the TV off. “Alright, boys! It’s time for your bath!” he said.

The room grew to a near-deafening volume as all four of them started complaining at once. “But Papa, I don’t wanna take a bath!” Leo whined.

“No baths!” Mikey said.

“Yeah, we already had one,” Raph said. “We’re all clean.”

“No baths!”

“That was two days ago. You need to take another one today,” Splinter said.

“But we want to watch the movie!” Donnie said.

“No baths!”

Splinter’s sanity was slipping from him, like a balloon slipping from a child’s fingers and floating out of reach. “How about we take baths one at a time, and when you’re not being washed you can watch the movie?” he said, trying his best to refrain from yelling. “Does that sound good?”

Bargaining seemed to do the trick. “Yay! Movie time!” they yelled happily.

He turned the TV back on, and the projector hummed with life as it displayed their favorite movie once more. “Red, you will go first,” he said, setting the remote down.

“What? No fair!” he said. “Why do I have to go first?”

“Because I said so.” He grabbed his son by the wrist and tried to gently coax him off the couch.

“I don’t wanna take a bath!” Raph said. “I wanna stay here with my brothers!” He wormed his arm out of Splinter’s grasp, then retreated his head and limbs into his shell.

Normally, that level of stubbornness would have caused Splinter a headache, but thankfully, his son wasn’t smart enough to realize that hiding in his shell only made him easier to carry. Splinter picked him up off the couch and was immediately surprised by how heavy his Raph was. Five-year-olds were supposed to grow a lot, but it should have been illegal for him to grow this much. As he lugged Raphael away into the bathroom, he wondered how much longer he would be able to carry him before he grew too big.

Their bathroom was barely larger than a closet, but it was the only room in the sewer drainage junction that they had come to call home which had spigots to draw water from. A wooden barrel that had been sawed in half functioned as their bathtub, and Splinter had added shelves to the walls to hold soap and towels. As he gently set Raph down into the tub, he realized that his son was almost too big for it now. Another reason why it should have been illegal for him to grow as fast as he did.

Splinter connected a garden hose to a faucet in the walls and turned the valve handle. Water gushed out, brown and murky at first, but eventually it ran clear. Splinter aimed the hose into the bathtub and began filling it. Curious, little Raph peeked his head out from his shell, then his legs, then his arms. A smile slowly crept onto his face as he began to splash around.

“Are you having fun?” Splinter asked, amused.

“Yeah!” Raph said. He slammed his arms into the water, making giant splashes.

“Careful! You’re gonna get water everywhere,” Splinter said. He turned off the faucet, grabbed some liquid soap from one of the shelves and began pouring it into the bath. Mountains of bubbles grew in the tub, much to Raph’s delight.

“Look, Daddy!” Raph said, scooping bubbles with his hands and smearing them on top of his head. “I’m Lou Jitsu!”

Laughing, Splinter took off his red bandana, then scooped up some more bubbles and added them to his son’s head. “You look just like him!” he said.

He spent the next couple of minutes scrubbing him down with a sponge. Halfway through the bath, Raph had managed to splash all the water out of the tub, forcing Splinter to fill it up again. But before long, he had Raph wrapped up in a fuzzy red towel. “Daddy’s gonna get you all dried up,” he said.

Somewhere in another room, glass shattered. Splinter’s heart dropped as soon as he heard the sound. “Never mind. You’re old enough to do this yourself, right?” he said to Raph. Then he bolted out of the bathroom.

Leo and Mikey were standing in the middle of the TV room, looking down at the mess they had made. Between the two of them was a football, a lamp shade, and a pile of broken ceramic. “Did you two just break our brand-new lamp?” Splinter said, aghast.

The boys pointed their fingers at each other. “He did it!” they said simultaneously.

Like the rest of their furniture, the lamp had been salvaged from a dumpster, but it was one of the nicer appliances that Splinter had added to their home. “That’s it! Leonardo, Michelangelo, you’re both in trouble,” he yelled. “No more playing football in the lair.”

“Sorry, Daddy,” Leo mumbled.

“S-sorry, P-papa” Mikey said, bursting into tears.

Seeing his son crying caused his chest to tighten with pity. Still, pity wasn’t going to clean up the mess. Splinter picked up the football and carefully plucked out the ceramic shards before placing it on the very top of the do-not-touch cabinet he had in the TV room. Then he carefully swept up the broken pieces before his sons could cut their toes on them. By the time he was done, Mikey had stopped crying but was still sulking where he stood.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” Splinter said, picking him up. “But I need you to be careful. I don’t want you getting hurt. Now, let’s get you back on the couch.” He fluffed up the cushions with one hand before setting him down, then turned to Leo. “Come, Blue. It’s time for your bath now.”

“Okay,” Leo said in a whiny tone.

Taking his hand, Splinter led him to the bathroom. All the while, a nagging feeling ate away at him, telling him that something was wrong. It wasn’t until they had nearly left the TV room that he realized what it was. “Where’s Purple?” he asked Leo. He asked as calmly as possible, but his heart only pounded faster when he remembered that he hadn’t seen Donnie since he took Raph’s bath.

Leo silently pointed behind him. Splinter turned to find Donnie standing just a few feet away, dragging a bucket by the handle. “I’m right here, Papa,” he said.

Crisis averted. Splinter let out a giant sigh of relief. “Donatello, go watch the movie with your brother,” he said.

“Actually, I want to take a bath now,” Donnie said.

“But Daddy said that it’s my turn for bathtime,” Leo said.

“You boys can have a bath at the same time,” Splinter suggested. Thankfully, the two of them were small enough that they could both fit in the tub.

Leo took Donnie’s free hand and together they walked into the bathroom. Raph was standing where Splinter had left him, swaddled in the towel. It was obvious that he hadn’t done anything to dry himself off, however, since water was still dripping from his shell, and he was now shivering. Splinter helped Leo and Donnie into the bathtub, then finished drying Raph off while the bath filled with water. Eventually, he let Raph scamper back into the TV room and turned his attention back to Leo and Donnie.

Donnie was floating his bucket in the bathtub. Lately, he had picked up the habit of walking everywhere with it and often filled it with little trinkets he found around the house. “What do you have in your bucket, Purple?” Splinter asked as he gently took off his bandana.

Silently, Donnie reached into the bucket and pulled out a spoon, then let it drop into the water. Then he drew a second spoon from the bucket, and a third, dropping each of them into the bath. Although this probably wasn’t normal behavior for a child, this didn’t surprise Splinter at all. Donnie, for some reason, had an interest in shiny metal objects. What did surprise him, however, was the next few items that Donnie pulled out from his bucket. They were metal rods shaped like the letter C, and for some reason Splinter had the feeling that he had seen them somewhere before. It wasn’t until Donnie had dropped the fourth one into the bathtub that he realized that they were the handles of the kitchen drawers. “What –? How did you get the handles off?” he asked incredulously.

“With a screwdriver,” Donnie said, beaming.

If any of his other sons had done this, Splinter would have been concerned. But Donnie had always been a little too smart for his own good. Splinter tiredly dragged one of his hands over his face. Considering that his four-year-old son was able to remove the handles, it should be easy for him to place them back on. “What else do you have in the bucket?” he asked.

“A toaster!” he said, pulling one out.

“No no no no no!” Splinter said, catching the toaster before his son could toss it into the bath like the rest of his trinkets. He set the toaster on one of the shelves, away from the water, then took the bucket out of the bathtub. “Let’s play with this later, okay?”

Like with Raph, Splinter scrubbed Donnie and Leo down with a sponge. It took a little longer than normal because whenever Donnie was distracted, he took the opportunity to reach into the bathtub and pull out the spoons and drawer handles. In a few minutes, however, he had them clean and swaddled in their favorite purple and blue towels. Once they had both dried off, he led them both to the TV room. “Orange, it’s your turn,” he called.

Raph sat on the couch watching the movie, but Mikey wasn’t with him. “Red, where is your brother?” he asked.

He shrugged. “I dunno. I’ve just been watching the movie.”

Splinter looked down at Donnie and Leo, as if they would have the answers, but they only shrugged in reply as well. This was just great. He should have known that it was getting too quiet around the lair. That’s what he got for teaching them basic ninja skills.

Leaving the rest of the boys in the TV room, Splinter walked around and called Mikey’s name. The longer time dragged on without a response, the more panic dug its claws into his chest. All the doors leading out of the sewers were child-proof, so there was no way Mikey could have left – but if he had managed to break through, then Splinter could only hope that his chubby toddler legs didn’t take him very far.

After calling his name for what felt like the hundredth time, Splinter finally heard a response. “Hi, Daddy!” came Mikey’s voice, bouncing across the walls of the atrium.

Splinter spun around wildly, trying to pinpoint where the sound had come from. Finally, his eyes rested on the sight of a little box turtle hanging from a pipe suspended ten feet off the ground. “Mikey!” he said, horrified. “Get down from there!”

“Okay!” Mikey said. He let go of the pipe.

“That’s not what I meant!” Splinter screamed. Adrenaline pumped through his body as his instincts took over. With a giant leap, he stretched out his hands and caught his son as he plummeted to the ground. He landed expertly, still holding onto Mikey.

“Yay! Do it again!” his son said.

“Nope! Not again!” Splinter said, nearly crying from sheer terror. “Bathtime only.”

Splinter gave Mikey his bath, and by the time he was done, exhaustion weighed down every bone in his body. He wasn’t the only one; little Mikey started nodding his head as Splinter dried him off and he seemed to struggle to keep his eyes open. It was a little early in the evening – but it was never too early for bedtime. Splinter picked up his son and carried him to his bedroom. Mikey was sound asleep before his head hit his pillow. Chuckling softly, Splinter knelt over him and kissed the top of his head before returning to the TV room.

Raph, Donnie, and Leo were all sound asleep, cuddled close together on the couch. Splinter grabbed the remote and lowered the volume to the movie, which still droned on in the background. One by one, he picked up Raph, then Donnie, and carried them to their beds, before tucking them in and kissing them good night. As he brought Leo to his bed, however, he began to stir. “Papa,” Leo murmured sleepily as Splinter lay him gently down on his pillow. “Can you tell me a bedtime story?”

“No, it’s time for you to sleep,” Splinter said.

“Please?”

Leo’s sleepy little eyes were simply too adorable to resist. “Okay,” Splinter said, sitting on the edge of his son’s bed. He racked his mind for a bedtime story until at last he remembered an old fairy tale from his childhood.

“Once upon a time there was a young fisherman named Urashima Tarō,” he began. “He lived with his mother and father in a humble village on the coast of a small island, and he was a good son who ate all his vegetables and didn’t complain about bathtime. One day, when he was walking along the beach, he came across a group of children. As he drew closer, he saw that they were torturing a baby sea turtle who was stranded in the sand dunes. Feeling pity for the turtle, he drove the children away, then he carefully watched over it as it found its way to the surf and disappeared into the waves.”

“Those were some mean kids,” Leo mumbled.

“Yes, yes,” Splinter said. “Now don’t interrupt. Two days later, when he was fishing on his boat, a giant sea turtle swam up to him. It was no ordinary sea turtle, for it was the same one that he had rescued. And it could talk! The turtle thanked him for saving its life and offered to take him to Ryūgū-jō, the underwater palace of the Dragon God. Since Tarō was a human and could not breathe underwater, the turtle magically gave him gills, and since he was not a strong swimmer, the turtle let him ride on its shell until they came to a beautiful palace made of pearls at the bottom of the ocean.”

“Saving the turtle had made Tarō the hot-shot of the ocean. He got to meet all of the important people in Ryūgū-jō, like the emperor, and his princess daughter, Otohime. But as the days went by, he became homesick. He wanted to go back to the island to see his mother and father. Otohime was sad to see him go, but she gave him permission to return home and gave him a special box, a tamatebako, to keep him safe from harm. However, she gave him instructions to never open the box. Tarō took it with him and rode on the back of his sea turtle friend until he made it home.”

“When he came to his island home, he found that everything had changed. He couldn’t recognize any of the people there, and he couldn’t find his parents. Just when he thought he had traveled to the wrong island, some of the villagers told him that they knew where his mother and father were. They took him to a pair of graves at the edge of the village – his parent’s graves. Three hundred years had passed since he had disappeared at sea, and his parents were long gone. Distracted by the grief, Tarō opened the lid of the tamatebako. White smoke poured out, turning his hair silver and forming wrinkles in his skin. It was too late by the time that he realized that the box had held his old age.”

Leo’s eyes were closed, and his breathing was soft and even. Splinter gently cupped his son’s face in his hands, stroking the edge of his bright red stripes with his thumb, and leaned over to kiss the top of his head. Then he quietly got up and walked out of his room.

Now that his sons were asleep, the lair was completely still, but despite the peace and quiet Splinter found himself unable to relax. Today marked the third anniversary of their collective mutation – the boys mutating into giant sentient turtles, himself mutating into an ugly, oversized rat. His fur stood on end as horrible memories wormed their way into his mind. The glow of bright green ooze. The acrid stench of chemical fires burning in a crumbling lab. The ache in his bones as he transformed. The horrible, churning feeling in his gut when he realized that Draxum intended to turn innocent baby turtles into weapons of war.

After three years, that gut-churning feeling never really went away. He felt when he and his sons were on the run, living in the streets. He felt it the one time someone had caught a glimpse of him and his boys and screeched in horror. Even when their lives weren’t in immediate danger, he couldn’t ignore the feeling that he was doing this parenting stuff all wrong. He had rescued the boys from a soldier’s life, only to deliver them to a life in the sewers.

He couldn’t do this anymore – not alone, anyway. It was time to ask for some help, or at least some parenting advice. Splinter tip-toed to his room, grabbed an oversized hoodie, and slipped it on. Then he lifted his mattress and snatched up the loose change that he had hidden underneath. He counted the quarters, adding them up until he had nearly thirteen dollars. Enough to make an international call.

Quietly, he tiptoed out of his room and into one of the sewer tunnels that led to a maintenance shaft. He turned the door handle and heaved the giant vault-like door open before slipping through and shutting it behind him. When he reached the top of the maintenance shaft, he lifted the manhole cover and crawled out onto the street. Pulling his hood over his head, he headed east.

Two blocks later, he reached a row of payphones on the side of the road. He lifted one of the phones from its hook and inserted quarters into the coin slot before dialing the number. Although it had been over thirteen years since he had talked to his grandfather, he still remembered the number to his landline.

Splinter nervously twist the phone cord in between his fingers as the phone rang in his ear. Would his grandfather be happy to hear his voice, or disappointed that it took over thirteen years to reach out to him again? Would his grandfather even remember him? Was his Japanese still good enough to carry a conversation? Part of him was tempted to save himself the shame and hang up so that he could get his money back. Clutching the phone tighter, he forced himself to stay on the line. This was for his sons, he reminded himself.

The line clicked as someone picked up the phone on the other end. “Jiji! It’s me, Yoshi,” Splinter said. “I’m sorry I haven’t called you sooner. I need help –”

“I’m sorry, who did you say you were?”

“Yoshi. Hamato Yoshi,” he answered. His stomach twisted when he realized he didn’t recognize the voice on the other end.

“I think you have the wrong number.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to bother you. I was just trying to call my grandpa, Hamato Sho.”

“Hamato Sho,” repeated the stranger on the other end. “I recognize that name. I think he was the previous occupant of the house I am living in now.”

If the stranger knew his grandfather, then he still had hope of reaching him. “Do you know where he lives now? Or what his new phone number is?”

The stranger paused. “Listen, I know this won’t be what you wanted to hear but… Hamato Sho passed away five years ago.”

A tear slipped down Splinter’s face. “Oh,” he choked out.

“Yeah. I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

His chest tightened as a sob threatened to escape his throat. “It’s okay,” he said. “Thank you for your time.” With shaky hands, he put the phone back up on the hook.

Splinter’s legs felt heavy the entire walk back to the sewers. Tears streaked down his face now as he allowed himself to cry. His jiji was long gone, and he never got the chance to properly say goodbye. He never even apologized for the way he had left things between them. There was no one left of his family now.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Splinter had four sons now – four rambunctious, troublemaking, sweet turtle sons. When he returned to the lair, it was still quiet and peaceful. In the morning, it would be loud and chaotic as they woke up. But for now, they were asleep in their rooms, perhaps having pleasant dreams about what the next day would bring. Splinter crawled into bed, still wondering if he was raising his sons right. But no matter what, he was going to try.

[baldurs-gape]

True Freedom

Tadpole or not, 200 years of habit was hard to break. The fact Cazador had offered to ally himself with the party in exchage for Astarion had been sickening. Even worse was that the answer wasn't an immediate "no" or "fuck off" which Astarion had really been needing to hear. Instead they had reached a stalemate of sorts that was to be resolved over a glass or two of wine and blood. If only Astarion hadn't been pulled aside into a lavish room and told to make himself presentable; which meant finery, demurely revealing clothes and a complete wrapping up of the personality Astarion had managed to tease out during his freedom.

While Astarion was sorting himself out, Cazador glided back to the rest of the party with a small, almost apologetic smile.

"You'll have to excuse the boy, he's been acting under my orders."

"Your orders mean nothing, not when a tadpole has ousted you," Gale replied, finger raised and wagging to drive his point home. "Astarion's been free for the first time in so long."

Something akin to pity made Cazador's face twist into a mockery of emotion. "My dear, you are too young to understand such things. I didn't want to hurt you, but allow me to prove my point. Astarion, as always, has been loyal to me and only me."

Even Halsin looked a little put off by that, face scrunching up in concerned disagreement.

"Are you saying he feigned being in love?"

Laughing lightly, Cazador shook his head. "I am so sorry if he has hurt your feelings. Astarion has always been a bit on the greedy side when it came to feeding his ego. But the only thing that boy loves is himself."

"I refuse to believe that!" Gale stood up, helpless to do anything in the face of such words. No spell could refute the words, make them fall on deaf ears.

"Very well. Allow me to prove my point. If you'd be kind enough to make yourselves invisible, I'll permit you to be present while I talk to the boy."

Exchanging glances, the group nodded to each other. Vials of potions of invisibility were distributed and murmurs for scrolls and spells filled the air. Eventually, they were all invisible and headed to the room where Astarion was veritably lounging, a goblet of something deep red in his hand. He looked comfortable and cocky in a way he hadn't been at camp. In fact, he looked right at home.

"Tell me, my boy, how have you ingratiated yourself with the be-wormed group?" After a beat, Cazador added, "Tell me like you'd tell Petras, be concise and clear so he could easily understand."

"Master-" Astarion swirled the liquid in the goblet before setting it aside, "-even Petras could do it with ease. As long as he can remember who is who."

"And who, exactly, is who?"

"The group is made up of six core members, they each have their weaknesses. Take Wyll for example, a desperate boy at heart in need of feeling like he could be a hero and his daddy would approve of him at long last. Simper about monsters to him, present one bigger than yourself and he'll be eager to become the shining night to your damsel in distress."

"Good. Who else?"

"Lae'zel, all that's needed to win her over is to give her a decent fight. I've calculated that a 60-40 ration of losses to wins is enough to keep her at peak attention. Let her win 60% of the time so she's not disheartened but grind her to dust the other 40% of the time. Give her a hard fight plus a hard fuck and she'll do all the fighting for you."

"That's two, what about the other four?" Through it all, Cazador stayed impassive, watching Astarion who seemed hesitant for a moment until Cazador pressed, "Tell me, little one."

"Shadowheart is a mean bitch. A bottle of wine and some barbed comments and she's your new best friend. Meanwhile, Karlach is the opposite in a way. She wants a friend, she craves touch since her engine has been contained. A friendly shove, a pat on the back with some praise and she's putty."

"That leaves Halsin and Gale, am I right?"

"As you always are." Astarion smiled though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Pitiful really. A tree hugger who likes sex almost more than nature. Bend over in a field of flowers for him, let him be as animalistic as he wants and he'll be like a pathetic puppy, ready to roll over and do as told." Swallowing, Astarion looked away from Cazador who stood, waiting and immobile. "Then there's Gale. Discarded and demoted. Marvel at his silly little cantrips, praise him for any spell and give him a bit of good old mortal romance. All he needs is some admiration to wrap him around your little finger."

Cazador nodded. "I see. That will be all for now. Be good and stay quiet until Godey comes to fetch you."

Like that, Cazador marched out and the invisible group followed like disillusioned ducklings. Back in the room Cazador had set aside, they all slowly turned visible again.

"As you can see, he has always been working for me. He needed your protection and needed to bring you to me. Initially you were to be a meal but I see now your value in fighting against The Absolute." Looking them all in the eye in turn, Cazador spoke, "Drop the foolish endeavour of keeping him 'safe' and being his 'friend'. Allow him to return to my side and I'll offer assistance in the fight to come with some of the bravest and best spawn. They'll make you forget Astarion and the heartbreak he's wrought."

Anger and disappointment made for a bitter mix. Without having to really even discuss it, the group trailed out, Halsin's arm around Gale. The soft "but I loved him" was met with "I know, me too", voices drenched in heartbreak.

With the group out of the way, Cazador sent for Godey to fetch Astarion. His wayward spawn was harshly shoved to his knees even as he glanecd around desperately for the others.

"What have you done to them? Where are they?" Panic clawed at Astaion's throat.

"Left. They weighed up your worth against mine and made the obvious choice. Did you really think you could win against me in any race, little one?"

Face falling, Astarion snarled. "You monster! I hate you!"

Staring impassively down at him, Cazador watched. "When you're quite done." He waited a beat but Astarion remained silent. "If you're so miserable here then I release you. No more compulsions. Go if that's what you desire. I have no need of you."

For a moment Astarion didn't move. Then he was scrambling to his feet and staggering towards the door, eyes wild at the prospect of escape.

"That's it," Cazador sneered. "Run if you want to. I've already replaced you, no doubt so has your little party of so-called friends. You'll be crawling back here in no time, you'll see."

"Never." The word was near enough spat as Astarion turned and scurried towards freedom. He had to find the rest of the group, give them a piece of his mind about being left behind. But he could maybe forgive them because, deep down, Astarion knew his help was worth less than Cazador's. Maybe, if he hadn't given his cold dead heart to two people in the group, he'd have chosen the same.

It was only back at the Elfsong that Astarion caught up with his friends. Near enough tumbling through the door in desperation to get home and share the news of his freedom, he clattered through the door. Icy silence greeted him and cold eyes stared.

"Well," he huffed, trying to break the strange mood, "an apology would be a nice start."

"I don't think my father would approve of me apologising to a monster," Wyll called, eyes narrowed to a glare.

"If you want an apology, I'll need to start winning our sparring sessions under my own merit." Walking closer, Lae'zel had her sword in hand in a rather unfriendly merit. "Even if by some miracle our ratios swap."

Gulping, Astarion tried to place the words and the hostility. He eyed as Halsin approached, looking more heartbroken than angry. "I would have helped protect you without you needing to trample my heart. Gale's heart. You could have always said no to my advances, especially if my wildshape caused you more harm than pleasure."

Helpless, Astarion glanced towards Karlach who snorted. "Don't look at me. Even your gaze repulses me now, let alone your touch."

"I had to say all that!" Astarion's voice buckled. "What did he tell you?"

"Nothing." Gale stepped next to Halsin, eyes red rimmed and puffy. "You did all the talking. Were we ever worth anything to you?"

"Just take what's yours and leave," Shadowheart butted in. "You're not welcome here but it seems I'm the only bitch mean enough to say it. Gather your belongings, you have a minute."

The group parted and Astarion hesitantly walked past, head turning to keep an eye on Lae'zel and her sword. Once past them, he darted for his bed where he kept things stashed. Except, truth be told, none of it was his, not really. Everything was stolen, borrowed with no intention of returning. There was only one thing that was his and only his. Grabbing the flimsy, moth eaten blanket he'd taken from Cazador's palace, he had one more thing to do. Dressed in his old clothes, the only ones he could truly call his, he headed for the door.

"I didn't mean any of it. You don't understand, if I didn't say what he wanted to hear, how he wanted to hear it, he'd have killed me! Now he's set me free." His words went ignored as the group sat on the couches, turned away from him. Desperate, Astarion threw one more thing out, wanting Halsin and Gale to look at him, to maybe see the truth in his eyes. "I love you!"

Shadowheart approached and gave him a flat look. "Your silver tongue isn't going to get you anywhere. Go running back to your master, little spawn. You already took more than your fair share from us. There's nothing left for you here."

Just like that, Astarion trudged out of the Elfsong. He looked back over his shoulder and watched as Shadowheart closed the door in his face with a finality that made something ache with terror in his chest. The whole world was his oyster yet the only place he wanted to be was now forever denied to him.

In the tavern, the mood was somber. Nobody quite knew what to say and Gale intermittently sniffled as his broken heart's jagged edges caught on hiw raw emotions. It was safe to say they were all in various states of shock, the betrayal of their companion sat heavily upon them. They stayed up late into the night, half expecting Astarion to try and sneak back in. Instead there was a knock on the door.

"Do you think it's him?" Gale whispered to Halsin.

It was a blessing yet a curse to find Dalyria on their doorstep. She looked behind Wyll, as if searching for someone. Shifting to block her view, Wyll tried to be kind. "Can we help?"

"Please. I don't know how you did it. He was always the favourite. But if Cazador has let him go, maybe he'll let the rest of us free too."

Nostrils flaring in annoyance, Wyll shook his head. "We did nothing. Astarion returned to his master as he wanted, of his own volition."

A small laugh escaped Dalyria. "No. Astarion would never return by himself. He was always plotting his escape, even when he could barely move, he promised me he'd get out and he'd try and take us with him. Promised through a broken jaw and barely intact throat."

"If he set you up to this, please, just leave. We know what he thinks of us, heard it right from his mouth. You'll need to take up the matter of your freedom with Cazador, that's not something we can do for you."

Dalyria's face fell. "I don't know what you heard. But I had to help him get ready for his meeting with Cazador. He said that if anyone can help it would be you. Even if you didn't think him worthy enough not to trade away for more firepower. I've never seen him so hopeful. Or healthy."

Uncertainty took root in Wyll. As much as he didn't want to believe Darylia, wanted to stick to his own truth that Astarion had used them, it just didn't feel so true now that the harsh burn of hurt had ebbed away.

"Stupid istik!" Lae'zel's words snapped Wyll to attention and he turned to find her. The others were also migrating towards the other side of the large room where she was sifting through what Astarion had left behind. Or rather, all of Astarion's belongings. There were pouches filled with insignificant magic trinkets and the emroidery on the canvas simply read 'snacks' in a rich purple. In another bag were healing potions, scrolls, alchemical ingredients. Not to mention the armour and weaponry that Astarion had been so fond of. "The she'lak only took what was literally his."

"What does that mean?" Gale looked helpless, hands fisted in his robes so he didn't clutch the snacks bag to his chest in place of where he wanted to hold Astarion.

Eyes closed, Halsin took a deep breath. He was beaten to speaking by Karlach.

"I think it means we made a real mess of things, soldier. Astarion always said Cazador was a master manipulator."

"We need to find him," Halsin said softly. "We have connected some dots but missed the picture as a whole."

It was easier said than done. Baldur's Gate was sprawling with ample places for Astarion to hide, especially given his knack for getting into places he shouldn't.

"He used to spend time in the graveyard," Darylia offered. "He probably went there."

An odd place for a vampire to want to spend time. There were a few other places to search first, taverns and houses they'd gained access through via not quite rightful means. Astarion wasn't in any of them. Reluctant to believe Darylia, Halsin and Gale made their way to the graveyard. Shadowheart was already there, searching with Wyll.

"Over there!" Karlach called as quietly as her excitement allowed. "By my parents' graves!"

Sure enough, a lone figure was huddled by the headstone of a grave near Karlach's parents. He didn't move when the others stood around him.

"Astarion? What are you doing here?" Halsin asked. Slowly, he sank to his knees within reaching distance but he held back from reaching out.

Slowly, Astarion turned to look at him and eyed all the others.

"Come to do what I couldn't?"

"Which is?"

A stake clattered on the ground by Halsin's knee.

"No! Little star, never!"

Gale joined Halsin on the cold ground but he didn't hold back from extending a hand and squeezing Astarion's shoulder. "What were you going to do instead?"

"Go to the palace." The words were nothing more than a whisper. "He said I'd go crawling back and he's always right. It's the only place where my presence is accepted in this world."

Swallowing thickly, Gale had to hold back his tears. "But all those horrible things you said?"

"It was what he needed to hear. I didn't want-" Astarion cut himself off, eyes squeezed shut. "I didn't want you to see what he could reduce me to. And you needed him for the fight. Between him and I, we all know who has more value."

"You do," Halsin rumbled. He copied Gale and reached for Astarion. Rather than just touch, he tugged and ended up with a lapful of cold, shivering vampire.

"I have nowhere else to go. Just wanted to see one last sunrise. He'll take it from me, no doubt. Wanted to see my grave in the light just once."

Sure enough, it was Astarion's grave they were sitting by. Something made Gale's throat tighten but he pushed through it.

"Come home. Come back to us."

"I'm not welcome there anymore."

Various murmurs of disagreement went up as the others tried to reassure Astarion that he was actually very much welcome there.

"You left most of your shit at the tavern," Shadowheart grumbled. "I'm not cleaning up after you."

Something akin to a wet laugh bubbled out of Astarion. They had a long way to go yet before things were fixed again, nothing was resolved yet. But there was hope and that had to be good enough for now.

[autisticlancemcclain]

wip tease number god knows, truly

The phone doesn’t ring for more than two seconds. Which is crazy, because New Altea is an unfathomably huge number of lightyears away and also Lance’s phone signal is perpetually garbage.

“Ahoy,” greets Allura when the line connects, because she is strange.

“Ahoy,” Lance greets back, because he loves her.

They sit in silence. He can hear, vaguely, the clicking sounds of compacts being opened and closed, and the particular humming noise she always makes when she’s putting on eyeliner.

It occurs to Lance, for the first time, that they have known each other so long and so closely that to the outsider, their relationship might be quite strange. The thought makes him smile widely.

“So,” he says.

Allura hums again. Deliberately, this time.

Lance takes another long time to answer, digging the toe of his boots into the ground. He spies a worm wiggling in the newly churned dirt and bends down to pluck it, writhing, out of its hovel. He quickly snaps a picture and sends it to Pidge with the caption, ‘didn’t know you were on Earth today.’ She responds with a grotesquely realistic custom clown emoji.

“There is a possibility. Perhaps. That I do not actually want to be a farmer.”

“No shit,” replies the Queen of New Altea And Also Lots Of Other Things Lance Can’t Remember, blithely.

Lance sniffs haughtily. “This is quite the revelation, you know. I’ve had four panic attacks about it.”

“You have an anxiety disorder. You had a panic attack about malevolent gut bacteria last week.”

“…This is true.”

“Also, whenever I feel you need to be humbled, I ask your mother to send me stuff from your childhood. There’s a video in particular I enjoy of you sobbing about the prospect of being anything but an astronaut. You looked at a cornfield and threw up. You were four, I believe.”

Lance does, actually, vaguely remember that. Well, he remembers Luis writhing on the floor, weeping with laughter, and kicking him in the shins. He also remembers the cornfield, if only because he distinctly remembers lobbing a piece of corn at Luis’ head, also.

He was a very expressive child. Also, Luis is a turd.

“I am entitled to a period of self-reflection,” Lance says primly.

“It has been an Entire Year, knobhead.”

“I needed time to collect my thoughts in peace and on Earth. I died, you know.”

“Oh, did you,” says Allura drily. “I wonder how that went.”

Lance’s smile widens. He lets her have this one. “Fuck farming, okay. I’m bored. I love my family to pieces but I need to be closer to drama. Give me a job.”

“That is a garbage application, Leandro.” He hears the distinct sound of a nail polish bottle being shaken. “I should hire someone more qualified.”

“How about you hire deez nuts.”

“Hm,” she says, and he can hear her grinning. “On the other hand, I need a second in command who is unafraid to challenge me. You know, in case I grow corrupt with power.”

She pretends to deliberate for a moment.

“You’re hired. I’ll send someone to come pick you up tomorrow.”

“Is that someone going to be a hot, tall Altean in a slutty outfit?” Lance asks hopefully.

She can’t help a laugh. Lance grins triumphantly. “You’re fired.”

“Is that a yes?”

“I’ll think about it.”

She hangs up.

[topazy]

Teen spirit

Pairing: Carl Grimes × reader, Maggie Greene × sister reader

Warnings: Swearing

Chapter: 5.05

Your eyes sting as more tears fall from them. You wipe them away with the back of your hand, then pull your knees up to your chest. You let out a shaky breath. Three weeks had passed since Beth died in Atlanta, and since then the group had tragically lost another member, Tyreese. He died when part of the group split off to see if Noah’s hometown of Shirewilt was liveable, and now your group was heading in the direction of DC.

The town was unlivable and full of nothing but rotten corpses.

Most of the group of survivors you were part of were sitting in the middle of the road, but a few of you had gone off to try and search for water and food in the woods. Since your group had hardly any left, everyone was becoming dangerously dehydrated. The group's mood was at an all-time low, and you had barely spoken in three weeks, only when necessary.

You jump, feeling a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, hey, it’s just me,” Daryl says. “I just wanted to make sure you ate something.”

If you weren’t still in so much pain from grieving, you would have found the humor in Daryl offering you a handful of worms as a meal. A few years ago, you would have run away screaming if a bug even touched your skin, and now you were getting ready to eat the slimy insects without a second thought. You let him place a few worms in your hand. “Thanks.”

“Beth, never shut up about you.”

You say nothing, and you continue to eat in silence.

—

When you returned to meet up with the others along with Daryl, you found out that someone had left bottles of water further up the road with a note saying ‘from a friend’ but nobody drank out of the bottles in case they were poisoned.

You scrunch your nose up at the smell of burning food. Four hungry dogs had run out from the tree line and onto the road, but before they could attack or run away, Sasha shot all of them, which resulted in the animals being skinned and cooked as a meal. Everyone ate aside from you and Noah.

Noah seemed to be too consumed by guilt to eat, and the thought of eating your favorite animal turned your stomach.

You sit the furthest away from the group by yourself until Carl sits down beside you on a dry patch of grass. He nudges your knee with his elbow. “Hey, I got something for you.”

You look at him through tired eyes and say, “Yeah?”

Carl pulls two bracelets made of yarn out of his pocket; they were covered in dirt, but you could still make out the bracelets were a mixture of blue and purple. “I found these while looking for water in abandoned cars a few days ago; I was just waiting for the best time to give it to you. I remember you saying, you used to make friendship bracelets with your mom for the church fundraiser.”

Your eyes become glossy at the memory of sitting on your bedroom floor hours after your bedtime, making them with brightly colored threads and sparkly beads. You hold the wrist out, and Carl puts the bracelet on before tying the ends into tight knots. “They are really pretty,” you say quietly. “Thank you.”

Once yours is securely on, Carl holds up his wrist for you to do the same. “No matter where we end up or how alone we feel, we can just look at these and remember that we will always have someone who has our back.”

For the first time in weeks, you smile.

—

Noticing Daryl going off on his own again, you get to your feet and follow him into the woods, being careful not to step on any of the skeletons on the forest floor. Suddenly he stops walking and says, “Not now, kid, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I know.”

Beth’s death hadn’t just taken a toll on you and Maggie; everyone else in the group who knew her felt her death too, just in different ways. You walk up behind Daryl and wrap your arms around his waist. At first, you think he’s going to shove you off, but he places his hands on top of yours. Daryl was tough, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t fragile like the rest of you.

“When we... after the prison... I’m glad Beth was with you.”

Despite his best efforts to hold it together, a heartbroken sob passes his lips.

You stay like that until you feel the first drop of rain hitting your skin. You let go of Daryl and ran back to the highway. Empty bottles were being placed down to collect the rainwater.

A sense of relief hit you; everyone aside from Maggie and Sasha looked happy. You smile watching as Carl takes off his hat and uses it to shield Judith from the rain; she was crying because her clothes had gotten soaked.

Hearing a loud crackle in the sky, you look up and notice the oncoming storm. “Oh shit.”

Daryl points back the way and says, “I saw a barn; let’s go.”

—

Once the barn was cleared by Rick, Michonne, and Maggie, they gave the rest of you the go-ahead to go in. It didn’t take long for a small to be made and any supplies sought out.

“Hey!” Maggie comes over to you, tucking stands of damp hair behind your ear. “It’s been tough, but we’ve made it this far.”

“I know.”

She kisses the crown of your bed and says, “Try and get some sleep.”

It doesn’t take you long to fall asleep. You and Carl chose to sleep on top of some hay, with Judith safely nestled between you. Most of the adults sit around the fire till late into the night until they fall asleep one by one.

Feeling a chill If you sit upright, it takes your eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness. Everyone else was asleep aside from Judith, who was wiggling on her back. You make sure she’s tucked up close enough to her brother that she won’t roll away and get hurt.

You approach the barn doors held together by a metal chain. You weren’t surprised it was cold with the rain still lashing down. You step closer to the doors to look out and see what damage the heavy rainfall caused, and between the flashes of lighting, you see walkers coming your way.

Stumbling back, you struggled to form a sentence but managed to scream one word, “Rick!”

When the barn door starts to move, you press yourself against it. Seconds later, Daryl is beside you, then Maggie, then Rick. Soon everyone was pushing their full body weight against the doors, waiting for the storm to pass.

[r0mantic-f00l]

more dad regulus 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

this one is def inspired by that one scene in uncle buck, love that movie so much 😭

A Father's Love

Rain patters down gently across the windshield as you gaze out the window; trees, people and buildings merely being a blur in your vision as your husband drives.

Adelia is in the backseat, strapped securely to her child car seat as her little legs kick the air, her head bopping to the beat of her favourite song which she begged to be played on repeat.

You glance over at your husband and snicker to yourself as he is clearly tired of the song by now, with his shoulders slumped and his mouth in a permanent straight line. Yet he always gives in to his daughter's insistence and makes himself suffer for it.

You are on your way to your daughter's nursery, which she joined only four months ago, so you were slightly concerned when you reviewed a call from the school asking you to come in for a 'conversation', as they worded it. Yet you know that's code for 'your daughter is so troublesome that we need to know what the hell you're teaching her at home'.

Yes, Adelia can be a handful at times, but you don't believe that her behaviour can be that bad.

Regulus pulls into the empty car park by the nursery and sighs as he unbuckles his seat belt.

"I'll go in." He murmurs, turning the engine off as well as the radio.

"Okay." You hum happily, no protest escaping your lips as you desperately prayed on the way over that you didn't have to talk to the bitter old teacher in charge.

"Daddy, turn the radio on." Adelia whines from the back, and Regulus groans, turning the radio back on, the hellish song repeating as Adelia sings along.

"Love you, good luck!" You call out as Regulus exits the car.

"Love you too." He responds before closing the car door and walking over to the entrance of the nursery.

He opens the glass doors and states his name to the receptionist, who tells him to wait outside the headmistress' office.

He takes a seat, waiting for five minutes as he glances at the table beside him.

Where's Wally, and the newspaper appears to be his only options of entertainment, to which he chooses neither.

Finally, the headmistress steps out of her office and beckons him in with a frown on her face.

Regulus enters the room, flinching when the headmistress slams the door.

"Take a seat." She commands as she sits down in her cushioned chair by her desk.

Regulus sits opposite her, and glances at her nameplate placed straightly at the very front of the desk.

Ms Worm.

He shouldn't think that is funny, but he does. He fears that his daughter is rubbing off on him, or perhaps his brother.

"Mr Black," Ms Worm begins, her frown still pressed onto her face as her beady eyes glare into his.

"I am quite busy today, as I have meeting after meeting after meeting, so I will be quite blunt," She clears her throat before sitting up straight in her chair with her nose pointed up high.

"I have been an educator for 35 years, and I have seen many bad children. And your daughter is one of them."

Regulus furrows his eyebrows and opens his mouth to protest, but before he can utter out a single letter, Ms Worm beats him to it.

"She is rude, she is aggressive, she is nothing but trouble to this school. Just the other day, she pushed a boy to the ground and smiled when he began crying!"

"..Why did she shove the boy?" Regulus asks, knowing that his daughter would never act that way unless she is provoked.

"Well, when I asked her, it was because the boy had been simply calling her names and pulling her hair."

"So she was defending herself?"

"No, she was not! That's not an excuse! It does not matter if the boy was doing that to her, she shouldn't have responded in such a rude, unladylike way!" Ms Worm begins yelling, pointing her finger repeatedly at Regulus as anger brews inside of him.

"Unladylike? She's three years old, she knows nothing about being a 'lady'," Regulus leans closer to the desk, his cold eyes glaring daggers into the older woman as she pretends to act as if she is not intimidated.

"Besides, the way I see it, she did nothing wrong. A boy was bullying her, so she defended herself. That's not being rude, it's being smart. But let me ask you this, did you talk to the boy's parents about his behaviour? Or is it just my daughter that is the 'problem'?"

Ms Worm swallows as she prepares her answer, her nose still pointed up to the ceiling as she attempts to grasp any remaining power she had.

"I-I don't see why I should. After all, boys will be boys."

Regulus scoffs and stands up from his seat, his hands planning themselves on either side of the desk as he stares the woman down.

"So you're telling me that whilst my daughter gets in trouble for defending herself, that boy, that bully, walks away without any punishments? Are you serious?" His voice slightly raises the woman as she attempts to stutter out an answer, but it seems that Regulus' love over his daughter beats the woman's bitter heart.

"You should be severely punishing that boy! You should be shouting at his parents instead of me about how they're raising a spoilt brat! And most of all, you should be proud of my daughter for protecting herself instead of being weak and letting it just happen without any consequence."

Ms Worm gazes at him with her eyes wide open in shock, her mouth agape as Regulus only continues in his rampage against the woman.

"I don't know what happened in your miserable life to make you such a bitter old worm, but you should be ashamed of yourself for calling a three year old unladylike simply because she pushed a stupid little boy. I'm proud that she did, because that means that she's learnt something from me, which is to never let bullies like you get away with bad actions." Regulus stands up straight, feeling triumph in Ms Worm's shocked and afraid state, her head no longer held high, but rather dropped in embarrassment.

"You're lucky that I'm not pulling my daughter out of this nursery. But if I ever hear of another child bullying my daughter, if I ever hear an insult aimed towards her, I'm coming to you and I'll make sure this nursery shuts down for good."

Ms Worm nods in acknowledgement, clasping her hands over her heart as Regulus walks towards the door.

"Have a lovely day, Ms Worm." He says as if he didn't threaten her just ten seconds prior, yet with slight snark in his tone, then opens the door, leaving the old woman afraid and weak.

He walks into the car park and rushes towards the car to avoid the rain.

When Regulus opens the car door, the sound of you and Adelia singing together enters his ears and leaves him with a bright smile on his face.

"Everything OK?" You ask once Regulus sits in the driver's seat.

"Yes, everything's good." He answers with a grin that tells you he's hiding something, but you'll ask later, perhaps when your daughter isn't around you.

Regulus turns around to Adelia and rubs her knee.

"How about we go and get some cake?"

Adelia gasps and nods, cheering as Regulus chuckles and turns on the engine once again, whilst you smile at Adelia's excitement.

"We better be quick though, we did leave our baby in the care of my man-child brother." Your husband mutters, making you laugh.