#yes i did forget ted’s arm hair and yes i am very sorry about it

[enumchase]

old men office romance

[touyasdoll]

Complicated - Chapter Two

Chapter One: Here

Pairing: Dabi/Touya Todoroki x reader

Warnings: self-degradation/self-doubt

Word count: 2.2k

A/n: Gonna rework this and ditch the first person POV, jsyk.

A/n pt. 2: This story does contain spoilers for the show/manga. The dates/ages of characters are going to be shifted around a bit.

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

It's been two days. Is he gonna call? Text? Completely forget I exist?

I sigh, trying to expel the anxiety balled up in the pit of my stomach.

Why would he call? We talked for, what, five minutes? He seemed older too. You were in your damn school uniform, idiot. He's obviously got more important shit to do than chat up a schoolgirl who can't mind her own fucking business.

"Ugh," I groan to no one but myself in my apartment. "I'm really just the biggest fucking jackass, aren't I?"

Flopping down on my bed, I let out another weighty sigh and bury my face in the plethora of pillows piled beneath me.

Relax. Maybe he'll text. Maybe he won't. And if he doesn't he's just sparing you the embarrassment that you would inevitably bring upon yourself.

A yawn escapes my lips as I feel a wave of drowsiness wash over me. Glancing at the clock, I could see it was hardly 5 PM.

Fucked up sleep schedule, here I come.

The familiar comfort of my bed allows me to quiet my thoughts enough to fall into a shallow sleep, until I'm startled awake by a vibrating sensation coming from underneath my chin.

I blink against the harsh light emitting from my phone, squinting to see who was disturbing me.

What the--oh shit!

It was an unknown number. Recognizing that it could be him, I sit up faster than I have ever managed to after a nap and fumble the phone into my palm, eagerly sliding my thumb across the screen to accept the call.

"Hello?"

My breath hitches and I bite my lip in anticipation as I wait, eager to hear his deep, silky voice on the other end.

But the pause on the other side of the line seems just a little too long. Something is off.

Is this him? Is it..just some creep? A prank? What the hell?

"We've been trying to reach you about your car's extended warranty."

My eyes slam shut, a shake reverberating through my spine as a cocktail of anger and embarrassment wash over me.

That's it. Hope is off limits from now on.

"Fucking great."

I tap the end button, half ready to throw my phone out the window.

Instead, I decide to check and see if I missed anything else while I was out.

Hope is off limits.

I shake my head, trying to erase the little embers of hope that persist, praying that maybe he did reach out.

To my surprise, there's a text from an unrecognized number.

Unknown: You free tonight, doll?

Holy shit.

Looking above the message, I see: Today 6:58 PM. I wince as I dare to look at the clock, which mercifully reads 7:26 PM.

Tapping the text box, I don't give myself the chance to overthink this opportunity.

Me: For you? Sure thing.

Tossing my phone onto the bed, I nod my head, processing the sudden burst of confidence I seem to have found.

I'm not like this. What is it about this guy? He's just that--a guy. One that I don't know. And now I'm just gonna meet up with him?

He's literally a stranger. Who the hell do I think I am?? Is my vagina just running things now? Gonna run out and meet up with some strange dude, because he's pretty and charming?

You know who else was pretty and charming?? Ted Bundy.

That's right, you said it. This is dumb, logically. This is everything everyone’s ever warned you about.

My phone buzzes and my heart rate spikes in response, tearing me from my spiraling doubts.

Unknown: Our spot. 30 minutes. See you there.

A noise that I've certainly never made before eeks past my lips as I process his instructions.

Fuck it. The possibility of this guy being a serial killer has been assessed. I'm going, risks be damned.

You're an idiot. You're an idiot. You're an idiot.

I sigh for the umpteenth time today, waging war in my own mind.

I don't know what it is about him, but I have to see him again. Nothing bad is going to happen. It'll be fine.

That's what I tell myself as I exhale, until I catch my reflection.

My hair is disheveled, my mascara askew. I didn't even bother to take off my uniform before I passed out.

As if I weren't flustered enough, now I gotta make myself looking somewhere near presentable and get down there in time.

Here goes nothing.

Fifteen minutes fly by and I think I've managed it as I step back to look myself over in the mirror once more.

The shortest pair of high-waisted shorts I own, paired with a low-cut black crop top and my favorite slip-ons. My make-up doesn't look perfect and there's not much of it, but it's touched up, and my hair is at least brushed.

Okay, no turning back now.

Grabbing my keys, I tuck my phone in my back pocket and make my way to the meeting place.

+++++++++++++++

Our spot. The man is smooth and I think that he knows it.

I re-read the last message he sent for probably the thirteenth time in the past five minutes.

The clock in the corner of the screen reads 8:02.

Maybe he won’t show. Maybe this is a joke. He and his buddies with come around a corner and laugh as they speed off.

Damn, can I chill? No. He’s going to be here. And I’m going to act like a human fucking being. A normal girl. Someone he could like; I’m capable of that.

Aren’t I?

Scanning my surroundings yet again, I take in the scenery. I never really get out at night, but the city looks so pretty this way. There’s not too much traffic, especially considering that it’s a Friday night, but there are some people milling about up and down the sidewalk. Some look like they’re on their way home. Some look like they’re on their way out for a night on the town.

“Hey there.”

My eyes are quick to follow the sound of his voice. I look up and he’s strolling up to the bench where I’m seated, the same one where I bandaged his arm the other day.

His hands are shoved in his front pockets, thumbs pushed through the belt loops of the tight, black jeans he’s sporting. His white t-shirt dangles off of his frame in a way that suits him, offering a glimpse of his muscular chest. A black coat completes his ensemble and he certainly looks the part of the typical bad boy.

But, damn, does it look so good on him.

“Hey, there. How’s the arm?”

I scoot over a bit, allowing for ample space between us if he were to take a seat. To my surprise, he sits towards the middle of the bench, so that his thigh brushes against mine as he settles.

I tuck my hair behind my ear, glancing down and covering the noise I want to make with a quiet clearing of my throat.

“It’s good. You do make a pretty decent nurse, sweetheart.”

He grins and pulls his coat sleeve back, revealing the still bandaged wound.

“Wait, have you changed that?”

You’re such a mom. You better hope he’s into MILFs, because otherwise this ain’t gonna get you where you wanna go, girl.

His brow furrows in an expression that tells me all I need to know before he even speaks.

“What do you mean? Changed what?”

A quiet sigh leaves my lungs as I hold out my hand.

“May I?”

His puzzled expression doesn’t falter, but he shrugs and offers his forearm up for inspection.

Carefully, I pull back the tape holding the bandages together and slowly begin to unwrap them.

That is, until the smell hits me. I barely catch of glimpse of the reddened skin before my nostrils detect the scent of burned flesh and excess viscera.

“Oh, dear. Have you even unwrapped this thing?”

Trying not to agitate anything further, I delicately wrap the bandages back around his arm, taping them down once again.

“No, should I have?”

I look up and my gaze meets his, a sense of true ignorance evident in his expression; I try not to laugh. I really try, but a soft giggle escapes nonetheless.

“Yes! I mean, if it doesn’t hurt, I’m sure it’s not that bad right now, but you should be cleaning and redressing a wound like that once every 12 hours at the very least. It’s been what, like, at least 50 at this point?”

His good arm reaches for the back of his neck, scratching at it as he dons an apologetic half smile.

“Sorry, I’m not exactly nurturing by nature, doll. I don’t know the first fucking thing about this kind shit.”

I cock a sympathetic smile as I look at him, sitting there looking almost helpless. I guess he is, in a sense. It’s actually kinda cute how he doesn’t seem to have an inkling of how to properly care for himself.

Because that’s absolutely what you want in a potential relationship. Someone to fix, how fun! Why not open up a shop for broken boys? Girl, when will you learnnn??

“Well, I don’t have anything on me right now, but if you don’t mind coming back to my place, I could clean it up there? And I’ll teach you how to keep up with it this time.”

I guess not today, motherfucker.

“Coming to my rescue again. You must be in a hero course, huh, doll?”

His smile is so naturally disarming as he stands and offers his hand out before me.

“I don’t mind, if you’re sure you don’t. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable and I don’t wanna be a burden. I didn’t ask you out tonight for you to have to play doctor on me again.”

He seems so sweet, so genuine. Maybe he is broken, but everyone deserves kindness. He looks like he hasn’t seen much of that. And as cliché as it is, maybe I can help him. Maybe he can help me.

I slip my hand in his, smiling as flirtatiously as I can manage as he pulls me to my feet.

“I don’t mind. I was kind of hoping I might get to play doctor on you again anyway. Maybe you could even return the favor.”

I brush my fingers against his as our hands disconnect, taking a page from his own book and watching his expression as my skin glides against his.

Or maybe we could just do this. This works too. No muss, no fuss. But oh my goodness what if what I just did was weird and he’s not even interested??

His eyebrows rise for just a moment as he chuckles and glances down, still grinning as he puts his hands in his coat pockets.

“Well, sweetheart, I don’t know much about medicine, but I do know how to give a pretty thorough physical exam.”

Something twitched deep inside my belly as my breath caught in my throat and I damn near tripped over my own two feet as we started walking.

Thankfully, his reflexes were quicker than my inate ability to fuck things up and his good arm reached out to steady my frame as he stepped in front of me.

The delicious scent of his cologne mingling with remnant cigarette smoke nearly made me dizzy as my hands connected with his chest, now completely unable to ignore the muscles just beneath his thin shirt.

“You all right there, doll?”

Long, slender fingers find their way under my chin. His thumb just barely brushing the edge of my bottom lip as he strokes it over my chin.

His eyes are practically piercing mine as he carefully lifts my face to his. Who knew being in such close proximity to someone so beautiful could be this paralyzing.

Holy fuck. Forget fixing me. He can break me and I’ll probably thank him for it.

The strong hand on the small of my back threatens to rob me of my breath all over again and I have to fight to keep any semblance of composure in his arms.

“Yeah.” I tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear and will myself to break eye contact. “You always have girls falling for you this quickly?”

I pity laugh at my own joke, wishing my quirk was something that would allow me to disappear.

But then he’s chuckling too. It’s melodious at first, but then it morphs into a deep reverberation that sends all the right chills down my spine as I level my eyes with his again.

He looks like an enigma personified. His eyes look so gentle and warm, but his smile reads so sad. The words that leave his lips sound like both a warning and an invitation to my flushe red ears.

“Trust me, princess. You don’t wanna fall for me. I’m no good for you.”

Oh, but it’s too late for that.

[flowerfan2]

Let Me Whisper In Your Ear

Please enjoy this fluffy bit of ridiculousness, brought to you by that friend who when I said “gee, I doubt there’s a Ted/Trent tentacle fic yet” said they wanted to read it.  🐙. Title from the Beatles’ song “Do You Want To Know A Secret.”

Ted/Trent (aka Tent), 1800 words, M, A03

Ted is sitting on a bench near Richmond Bridge, nursing his cup of coffee.  It’s a few weeks after the catastrophic Man City game, and he finally feels like the team is putting it behind them.  

When he woke up this morning, Ted considered checking something off the long list of tourist activities he had assigned himself back when he first got to London.  But in the end he decided that taking it easy was more to his liking.

It's a pretty spot, here by the Thames.  There’s a good bakery nearby, tucked into a converted arch near the bridge, and the server didn’t seem to mind putting good old cow’s milk into his cup.  He’s considering going back for another coffee, or maybe even a cupcake, when someone sits down next to him.

He looks over and breaks into a smile, pleased despite himself.  “Well, if it isn’t Trent Crimm, of the Independent.”

Trent rolls his eyes.  “I think at this point you can just call me Trent.”

“Now, where would the fun be in that?”  Ted leans in and presses a quick kiss to Trent’s cheek, hardly more than a greeting between friends.  Trent blushes ever so prettily, and it sends a rush of affection through his chest.  “It’s nice to see you this fine morning.”

“As if I’d be anywhere else on your day off.”

Now it’s Ted’s turn to blush.  This is new between them, and he’s not used to being someone’s priority, not like this, anyway.  His schedule is demanding, but it turns out that a journalist of Trent’s caliber has quite a bit of flexibility schedule-wise, and who knows, maybe in other ways as well.

Ted focuses himself back on handsome fellow next to him.  “This here’s a right nice place to sit,” he says.  “And not too crowded.  I’m glad you suggested it.”

Trent hums to himself and looks around.  “Gets busier on the weekend.  Still, you might want to be careful.”  He gives Ted a knowing look.  “It’s not exactly private.”

They sit in comfortable silence together for a little while, Trent drinking his tea and Ted finishing off his coffee.  There’s music coming from somewhere, a busker playing a fiddle, and the breeze is soft and almost warm.  Ted knows that he’s not ready for public displays of affection yet, he hasn’t even told Rebecca or Keeley about this, but he’s confident he’ll be ready soon.  

There’s a shout behind them, and Ted turns to see a few kids kicking a ball around.  

“Don’t worry, I don’t think they’ve seen you,” Trent says.  “Your secret’s still safe.”

“What, that this football coach prefers coffee to tea?  I don’t think that’s much of secret.”

Trent laughs, soft and low, and Ted wants to hear it again.  “What do you say we go back to my place, see if we can get into some trouble of our own?  Or yours, I’m easy.”

It works, as Trent chuckles in amusement, and they stand up.  Ted wants to take Trent’s hand, but he stops himself in time, instead bumping their shoulders together.  

They’re walking down the road, hands shoved in their pockets after depositing their coffee cups in the trash, when Trent’s posture shifts.  “Ted.  You’re not the only one with a secret.”

Ted glances at Trent.  “I know.  I get that you have to be careful too.  But you haven’t been reporting on Richmond-”

“No, I don’t mean about us.”

Ted comes up blank.  “Okay.”

They continue walking, and then Trent stops and turns to Ted.  “Aren’t you going to ask me what it is?  What my secret is?”

Ted catches Trent’s eyes.  “Now, that’s the beautiful thing about a secret, isn’t it?  You don’t have to share it.  It’s not for public consumption.”  He doesn’t know what’s troubling Trent, but Ted does know a thing or two about privacy, and wanting to keep certain things to himself.  It’s not always a good idea, but then again it’s not always a bad idea, either.

“You are not exactly the public,” Trent says, mildly affronted.

“Fine, I appreciate that.  And I’m mighty glad.  But you still don’t have to tell me.”

*****

A few weeks go by, and Ted doesn’t dwell on what kind of secret Trent might be keeping.  He trusts him, and he figures that whatever it is, Trent will tell him when he’s ready.  

They’re on Trent’s couch, engaging in what Ted is chuffed to call snogging (he’s quite pleased at the way his British-isms are coming along, he’s even starting to think in British), and it’s getting rather hot and heavy.  Ted is halfway in Trent’s lap, and Trent’s hands have wandered under Ted’s shirt, his palms stroking tantalizingly up and down Ted’s back.

Trent is making encouraging noises as Ted kisses the life out of him, and Ted wants to get his hands on Trent too.  He shifts, tugging a little at the worn t-shirt Trent has on, his jacket long since tossed aside.  Trent strips his shirt off, and before long they’re down to their respective underwear, Ted’s boring boxers and Trent’s delectably snug black briefs.

Trent gasps against Ted’s neck as they grind together, and then has the sense to drag Ted up and off the couch.  “Bedroom?” he asks, and Ted nods, too worked up to even wonder why he hadn’t thought of it sooner.

Trent’s bed is huge, and he sprawls across it, pulling Ted after him.  “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he breathes into Ted’s skin, and then proceeds to suck kisses down his neck.  Ted leans his head back against the pillows, tangling his hands in Trent’s hair.  This is the first time they’ve gone this far, and Ted has a feeling he isn’t going to last, so he wants to savor every part of it.

Trent finds his way down Ted’s chest, giving an experimental lick to a nipple, and Ted hisses in response. “Good?”  Trent asks, his finger circling it now.

“Yes, yes, very good.”

Trent returns to his task, licking and sucking, and then gives the other one some attention.  Ted is on fire, and he needs to have his mouth on Trent.  He tugs him back up and they kiss, fiercer than ever before, their legs wrapping tight around each other as they find delicious friction.

Trent is cupping Ted’s head with one hand, the other gripping his waist, and Ted is doing much the same.  He angles his hips, feeling Trent hard against him, and shifts, trying to press them together.  Then he feels Trent push his boxers away and take him in hand, and he groans, sensation overtaking him and fireworks exploding behind his eyes.

Trent comes soon after him, letting out a low moan that might be the sexiest thing Ted has ever heard.  They’re both panting as they come down, Trent stroking soothingly along Ted’s flank.

Ted tilts his head and kisses at Trent’s palm, loving the feeling of Trent’s hands along his face.

His hands, plural, along his face.

Ted runs his fingers along Trent’s arms, around his elbows and to his hands, and holds still.  Yup, hands are all present and accounted for.  So what, exactly, is rubbing soothing circles into his side?

“Trent?”

“Mmm?”  Trent blinks at him, and Ted is momentarily sidetracked.  Sex-sleepy Trent is adorable.

“A little while back, you told me you had something to tell me…”

A beat, and then Trent goes rigid.  “Oh my god.”  The soft caress on Ted’s hip disappears, and Trent’s eyes go wide.  “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I can’t believe-”

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Ted says, his hands on Trent’s shoulders.  “It’s okay, whatever it is, it’s okay.”

“You can’t possibly mean that, you don’t know-”

“But you’re gonna tell me now, I imagine, and then it will be okay.”  Ted is pointedly keeping his eyes focused on Trent’s face.  

“This is not how I planned on telling you.  I was - you distracted me - not that it’s your fault-”  

“I guess we did get carried away, and I’m sorry ‘bout that.”  Ted says.  “I mean, I’m not altogether sorry about it, because it was amazing, truly amazing, but I’m sorry for whatever has upset you.”

Trent buries his face in Ted’s shoulder for a long moment, and then seems to come to a decision.  “Right, then.  Just please keep in mind that I’ve not had to share this with someone new for a long time, and while I am generally very good with words-”

“And humble, don’t forget humble.”

“I think it’s best if I just show you.”  Trent lays close to Ted and takes a deep breath.  One hand is on Ted’s cheek, and the other finds Ted’s hand and claps it between them.  And then Ted feels it again, a gentle touch skimming its way across his hip, up his side, to his shoulder.

“I’m fairly certain that there are only two of us in this bed,” Ted says quickly, his nerves kicking in, “right?”

“Right,” Trent says, “No one else here.  that’s just me.”  He pulls back so that Ted can see.  Ted is trying really hard to be respectful and understanding, he really is, but he thinks he lets out a squeak.  “Is that, is that a…?”

“It’s a tentacle,” Trent says, haughty and tense.  “I don’t know why I have it, it’s very rare, I’m not an alien, and it won’t bite.”

Ted draws in a deep breath and squeezes Trent’s hand.  Whatever else is going on, this is still Trent here with him, exposed and vulnerable.  “Well, that last one’s a shame, because given how helpful it was with our recent shenanigans, that particular ability might have been interesting.”  Ted slides his hand through Trent’s hair and pulls him in for a kiss, ignoring the tentacle for the moment.  

Trent chokes out a nervous laugh against Ted’s mouth and kisses him back, then almost giggles with relief.   “You’re really okay with this?”

“Does it hurt?  Is it, um, dangerous in any way?”

“No, not at all.  It’s just unbearably strange.”

“Not unbearably.”  Ted lets his fingers roam over Trent’s back, stopping as he reaches his shoulder blades, until Trent nods against his chin.  He strokes down his spine, and then he finds it, just at Trent’s waist, almost like a tail.

“It’s not a tail,” Trent says, as if reading Ted’s mind.  “It’s just its own ridiculous thing.”

Ted circles the base with his fingers, and Trent gasps.

“Whoa there,” Ted says, letting go.  “Is it, um-”

“Sensitive,” Trent replies, hiding his face against Ted once again.  

“Sensitive, like?”  Like sex, his brain fills in.

“Yes.”

Ted laughs then and pulls his bristling boyfriend close, rocking him in his arms.  “Oh my lord, you are just the bee’s knees, aren’t you.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Trent mutters.

“No need to be embarrassed,” Ted assures him, returning his hands to the safer and just as lovely terrain of Trent’s plentiful locks.  “When you’re ready - only if you want - we can have a lot of fun together, with whatever parts of your body and mine we’re comfortable with.  But no matter what, sweetheart, your secret’s safe with me.”

[extremelyblackandwhite]

handmaid - 31

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap

A/N: we’re going back to y/n’s 18th. so sorry for the 2 day delay. hope you enjoy this chapter x

NEXT CHAPTER

Y/N felt dizzy whenever she was surrounded by too many people, it almost felt unsafe, as if people could hurt her better if she was surrounded by others. After all, it was a sea of people with extensive knowledge in hurting someone or making them disappear without ever being known and despite living in that environment, she had a paranoid unconscious fear of being in the middle of so many people belonging to the mob, specially higher up members. 

She had managed to find herself a spot in the thousand of chairs speckled around the room, watching from afar as Gwen dazzled everyone in her new Ted Baker baby pink dress meanwhile Y/N was dressed in her high school dress uniform, not really having many dresses in her wardrobe that would suit the event or that would suit her. She continued with her nose stuck in her favourite book, her brain filtering out the loud partying sounds and focusing only on the sharp words of her pages. She would’ve continued this way had it not been for a strong coughing that came close to her. Y/N lowered her book to find the source landing on a man dressed like dandy, probably in his mid 60s, holding himself up on a dark walking stick and coughing onto a monogrammed handkerchief. 

     - Would you like to sit? - Y/N called out for his attention, immediately getting up from the chair. 

     - Please, darling, don’t bother. - he replied in an accent Y/N could maybe pin point to France or maybe Belgium. Nevertheless, she moved the chair closer to where he was, a small smile on her lips. - Are you sure you don’t want to sit?

     - I have good legs, I can stand. - Y/N leaned against the wall, hand gesturing towards the chair. 

     - What’s your name? - he questioned as he took a seat on the cushioned chair, too tired to argue with the girl telling him to sit down. She was probably right, he probably should.

     - Y/N. 

     - Michael. I’m Genevieve’s grandfather. Mother’s side. 

     - I’m Genevieve’s handmaid ... Or at least in training, Daniel says my true test will come up when we go to university. 

     - I’m assuming you got into Cambridge too then. - he admitted and Y/N nodded, very proud of her perfect scores and the letter that had come with the mail just a few days ago. - What are you taking?

    - English Literature. 

    - My daughter used to love to read. Would devour a whole library if she could. French, English, German, Greek ... languages didn’t really stop her. 

    - It must be hard for you. - his eyes seemed to focus on her eyes hidden by some mascara she had put on for the ceremony but still couldn’t completely hide the sheer beauty they seemed to hold. - Are you alright?

     - Yes, you just have some very familiar eyes. It’s uncanny. 

     - I just got told that today. - she played with her hair, a shy smile on her berry painted lips. - They’re not very remarkable really. 

     - They’re remarkable enough.

To say she had spent the rest of whatever was left of the morning in the bathroom either throwing up or urinating and whenever she wasn’t in the bathroom seemingly detoxing from whatever she had consumed last night which hadn’t sat well with her, she was exhausted, sleeping in her bed and swearing to herself never to eat anything from this hotel ever again.

She swore she didn’t remember seeing anyone this sick ever since Dan’s girlfriend became pregnant. Pregnant. That thought hit her like a freight train and as quickly as she had laid down to rest, she bolted from her bed and into her suitcase, reaching for her necessaire which showed her a full pack of pads. She was certain she had gotten the pack right after her last period which she was sure had been in November. She bite on her nails, getting up, eyes glued to the pack wishing that once she blinked it would be half empty. 

Shivering, she rushed over to her door, opening it to see if Elias was around and luckily he was. She was probably overreacting, she convinced herself, yet it was better to be safe than sorry. 

    - Are you alright, miss? - he questioned, noticing her uncharacteristic unresting look which seemed to haunt all her features. 

    - We need to go to a pharmacy. - she almost whispered the last word, afraid someone would connect the dots despite the pharmacy having several other things which would cater towards her. - The furthest pharmacy you know. Outside the Upper East Side. 

    - That wouldn’t be safe, miss.

    - Please. 

The bodyguard could do little to nothing to convince the young woman to stay within the city. Instead of fighting with her, both of them just got inside the car and started to drive as far away from the watchful gaze of the Upper East. Her mind was going over her biology lessons. Nausea could be related to anything such as food poisoning, flu, migraines and so on. It was probably just food poisoning or maybe a very very bad case of PMS. Nevertheless she couldn’t help but panic as she saw the safe environment of the Upper East disappear. Y/N didn’t want anyone to even dream of her buying a pregnancy test and as she reached the furthest pharmacy a car could take her to, she rushed like a bullet to the pregnancy aisle pulling one of every single brand into her shopping trolley. After a few minutes, she had at least 10 in her trolley and after avoiding several dirty looks from the people standing with her in line and the employee serving her, the handmaid returned to the car, clutching to the paper bag like a precious gem. 

Once she was back in her hotel suite, she dropped the bag on her bathroom floor, going through several and several tests, placing them away from her gaze as she convinced herself that this could be almost everything other than pregnancy. She wasn’t pregnant, she couldn’t be pregnant, she tried to convince herself once more as she looked at the first pregnancy test. Two lines. Well, it could be a faulty test. Another one, two lines and the same pattern applied to all of those following the one/two line system. The other ones all showed the word pregnant and as she read the last one, she could feel whatever resolve and structure she had within her slowly erode.

Pregnant. She was pregnant. Either that or more than twenty tests were giving her false positives which she found it to be not plausible. She slide down her bathroom wall, legs folded as she stared at the wall in front of her. She was pregnant from a soon to be married man. Mr. Williams words rang in her mind, mistress. She was the mistress pregnant with the bastard. At that thought, tears started to cloud her eyes and like a scared child, she hide her face in the middle of her thighs, hoping everything would go away, hoping all her mistakes and lack of judgments were nothing but a really, really bad dream. 

     - Angel? - she could hear his voice followed by knocking on her door. She cleaned her eyes with the back of her hand, grabbing every single stick and stuffing them in one of the bathroom doors. Elias had probably heard her crying and warned Sebastian about it. - Angel? Y/N? Open the door, please. 

     - I’m going. - Y/N turned on the tap, slapping her face with cold water hoping she would look less like a mess and more presentable. Raising her face to stare into the mirror, she told herself to calm down, she told herself to forget about the tests which were hiding in one of the bathroom drawers. She was fine, she was gonna be fine and as she convinced herself once more that she was fine, another knock took her off her mind.

With a strong will, Y/N gripped the knob of her bathroom, opening the door very slowly. Sebastian was standing behind it, dressed as poshly as he normally did however a bit more relaxed with the jacket being off and his dress shirt first buttons unbuttoned. A tense look seemed to dissipate as she held the door close to her collarbone, not having it fully opened.  

    - Are you still sick? - his hand raised to rest against her warm cheek, caressing it with her thumb. - Elias said he heard you crying. Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?

    - I hate hospitals. - she lied, wishing nothing more than to go to the place which would confirm what she already knew. There was a great deal of worry and care in his baby blues, and she found herself avoiding them, afraid she would blurt out she was pregnant. - I’m fine, Sebastian, I really am. 

    - Okay, angel then look into my eyes and tell me you’re okay. - he picked her chin, softly pulling it up so her eyes looked into his. Even with that, she still managed to dodge his gaze. - Angel, what’s wrong?

    - Nothing’s wrong, I’m just ... I’m just stressed. - she smiled tightly, hands moving from his shoulders to his elbows, letting out a breathe that seemed to have been held within her for ages. However, it came out shaky, one that made her want to return to her self wallowing state yet before she could, he had already wrapped his arms around her figure, holding her as if he was his whole entire universe which, in some way, she was. - You really needn’t worry. I’m sure you have other more important things to deal with.

    - Wedding preparations will never be more important than you. - he kissed the crown of her head, getting lost in the scent of roses and lilies of her perfume. - Come on, lovely, whatever it is, it can be solved. 

    - No, I don’t think it can. - she mumbled against his crisp white cotton shirt, wondering if she closed her eyes tightly enough, things would seem to exist and she would wake up from the hell she had started to live in just a few minutes ago. 

   - Angel ... - he cupped her face. - It’s gonna be okay.

   - It’s not. - she could feel her eyes water as her mind rushed through all they could do which was nothing. She was now just another pregnant mistress, the other woman. - It’s really not. 

   - Listen to me, angel. - he tried to remain calm but his resolve was quickly faltering as he stared at the tear tracks on her bountiful cheeks, so far from her soft and luminous smile. - We’re gonna be okay. Y/N, I ...

   - Y/N! - Y/N took a step back, her head turning to the door where Gwen was standing, her gaze more on her phone than the two of them. With a sigh of relief, the handmaid let a small yes slip her lips. - Bridesmaids dress try out, come on. You’re late. 

    - I’m really sick today, Gwen. Can’t we just postpone it? - Y/N still was unsure if her stomach could hold anything and being forced inside a dress sounded more like modern torture than every other thing she had her do. 

   - You’re on your feet, clearly not sick enough besides we need to get it done today. 

   - Gwen, don’t be cruel. - Sebastian added.

   - Shouldn’t you be trying your tux? - she fired back, almost like the whole conversation was a script only her had memorised and could now easily manipulate. - Or do you intend to look like a mess on my wedding day.

   - Our wedding day. - he corrected which greatly upset Gwen. - I’m sure a few days delay won’t ruin it. 

   - She’s my handmaid, not yours. - Gwen gave him a sarcastic tight smile, shooting Y/N a look which made her immediately walk to her side. - Your tux better not be loose. 

Y/N followed Gwen, head looking down but not before sharing an apologetic look with Sebastian. Instinctively, Y/N placed her hand in on her stomach as the two women walked into Gwen’s bedroom which seemed to have turned into an atelier with several women taking measurements and dressing other women in periwinkle dresses. 

An older woman grabbed Y/N, shoving her the same periwinkle dress in her arms, ordering her to try it on. However, as Y/N pulled the zipper past her waist she found it didn’t completely zipped up. Oh no. She tried to bring both parts of the dress together so it would zip up but nothing. Her dress fit everywhere but her bust which was bigger than before.

   - What’s wrong? - Gwen noticed Y/N struggling to pull the zipper up. - God, Y/N, I told you not to gain weight. 

   - It’s just my chest ... probably PMSing. - she lied, of course it wasn’t because she was PMSing. She wished she were, that would mean she had one less problem on her. - It’ll be fine in a week. 

   - It better be or you’re not attending. 

Joke or no joke, she’d rather not attend it. 

tag list: @lilya-petrichor​​​​ @xoxohannahlee​​​​ @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater​​​​ @nikkipea​​​​ @madisonpillstrom​​​​ @cevans98​​​​ @thelostallycat​​​​ @sideeffectsofyou​​​​ @anxiousdreamersworld​​​​ @captainchrisstan​​​​ @lookiamtrying​​​​ @sarge-barnes-sir​​​​ @stuffforreferences​​​​ @thebadassbitchqueen @sebastianstansqueen​​​​ @nsfwsebbie​​​​ @strangerliaa​​​​ @emzd34​​​​ @everything-is-awesomesauce​​​​ @dreams-in-blxck​​​​ @krismeunicornbaobei

[moonlightserenadeeznutz]

This might be over specific feel free to ignore but, Teddy going round to shell cottage to meet Vic and being cornered by Bill, and then later Fleur about how to treat their daughter and Teddy just 👁👄👁? (Also with gender queer teddy if you don't mind?) Once again sorry for how specific this is haha 😅

Definitely won’t ignore it! Thank you for the prompt! Hope you enjoy :)

~ It had been a while since Teddy had been to Shell Cottage. They used to spend summers here all the time as a child, playing on the beach with Victoire, swimming in the sea until the sun grew too hot and the two were called inside for lemonade. But once Teddy left for Hogwarts, they tended to spend holidays with their godparents or at the Burrow when they weren’t with their gran, because they missed Harry and Ginny, and Molly and Arthur. They saw Victoire all the time at Hogwarts. They spent hours with her, in the library or the Hufflepuff common room, or in the courtyard reading and playing gobstones. So Shell Cottage became rather distant.

However, when Teddy and Victoire started dating, they thought that a trip to her parents’ house was long overdue.

They were nervous, naturally, about meeting Vic’s parents, despite the fact that they had known Bill and Fleur for their whole life. But it was different now. Teddy was dating their daughter, and Teddy wasn’t sure if they’d approve.

Teddy was well-loved within the Potter-Weasley family. They were the Golden Child; the older sibling to every cousin; the last trace of Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks, and when they started dating Victoire, no one was surprised. The two had been infatuated with each other since childhood, almost inseparable. A romance between them was frankly inevitable. But still... would Bill and Fleur approve?

When Teddy had come out as pansexual, they were accepted immediately, and Victoire made it clear that nothing had changed between them.

When Teddy came out as non-binary, a few of the older members of the family needed some time to get to grips with what that meant, as well as get used to using they/them pronouns to refer to them, but all in all, they were quickly accepted. And once again, Victoire made it clear that nothing had changed between them.

Their relationship was strong, and Teddy hoped that Bill and Fleur would be able to see that.

When Teddy arrived at Shell Cottage, they were rather pleased to see that hardly anything had changed. The beach was still the same, the house was still the same, even the wind chimes hanging from the front porch were still the same.

Teddy knocked on the door; they had decided to make a proper entrance rather than floo in, so they had apparated just beyond the sand dunes.

Victoire opened the door. Her face lit up when she saw them.

“Teddy!” She hugged them in greeting. Teddy hugged her back, breathing in her sweet perfume. “Come in!” Teddy walked the familiar route from the entrance hall into the kitchen, where Bill was standing over a sizzling pan of something that smelt very good.

“Wotcher, Teddy,” Bill greeted when he saw them. “Good to see you. It’s been ages!”

“Yeah,” replied Teddy. “Sorry about that.”

“That’s alright, we’ve got enough kids to keep track of as it is.” He grinned, and as he did, Fleur walked through the doorway, her usual presence instantly becoming the most noticable thing in the room. She spotted Teddy, and flung her arms out excitedly.

“Teddy! I didn’t know you were coming! Come here, cherie, it is so good to see you!” Teddy had barely taken a step towards her before she smothered them in an embrace and kissed them on both cheeks.

“Calm down, maman, you’ll suffocate them,” joked Victoire. Fleur let go but was still smiling. Victoire cleared her throat. “Now that you’re both here,” she began. “Teddy and I have something to tell you.” Teddy looked at her. Now? They thought. The two had been discussing this for weeks now, but Teddy still felt the desire to put it off for as long as possible. Victoire took no notice of them.

Bill and Fleur gave the couple their full attention, though a slight look of concern flashed across both of their faces, not knowing what Teddy and Victoire were going to tell them.

“You might want to sit down,” said Teddy. Bill and Fleur looked even more worried, but obeyed nonetheless.

“No, you don’t have to,” added Victoire, noting her parents’ tenseness. “Teddy, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“What’s not a big deal?” Asked Bill. Victoire hesitated before spitting it out, and Teddy was grateful that she had done it instead of them.

“Teddy and I are... are dating. We’re a couple.” She said it quickly, and she and Teddy waited in silence for a response.

Bill spoke first.

“Right... okay... I suppose it’s... no surprise...” he ran a hand through his long hair. “How long have you two been dating?”

“Little over two months,” replied Teddy, who felt like they should say something,  if only to not stand there awkwardly.

“Maman? What do you think?” Prompted Victoire. Fleur had yet to say anything, but she cleared her throat, ready to speak.

“Alors, I think zis is very good news. You two, are you... are you ‘appy?”

“Really happy!” Enthused Victoire. Teddy nodded as they put an arm around Victoire’s shoulder.

“Well zen zat is what is important, isn’t it, Bill?”

“Yes, absolutely!” Victoire and Teddy both smiled with relief. It had gone as well as they’d hoped, and now they no longer had to hide their relationship from Victoire’s parents anymore.

Bill stood up.

“Do you mind if I have a word with Teddy for a minute, Vic?” He asked, making Teddy suddenly think that they’d celebrated too early.

“Why?” Said Victoire.

“Don’t look so worried, I’m not going to hurt them,” Bill chuckled. Victoire looked from her father to Teddy, weighing up the options.

“Alright,” she sighed. “But don’t go all dad mode on them.” Bill put up his hands.

“You have my word.” Victoire squeezed Teddy’s hand and left the room.

“I’ll go with her,” offered Fleur, taking the cue from her husband and following her daughter out of the kitchen.

“I’m not in trouble am I?” Asked Teddy feebly, once the two girls were out of ear-shot. Bill was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed lazily against his chest.

“Nah! Come on, mate, how long have you known me? Contrary to what my kids  tell me, I’m pretty chilled out. And I’ve known you your whole life. I knew your parents too. I wouldn’t trust anyone with my daughter as much as I trust you. But I’m still Vic’s dad, and I still have a duty towards her. So I’m here to remind you that she’s young. She’s naive. And she’s trusting. And while that makes her sweet and lovely and what have you, it also makes her vulnerable and impressionable. And at the end of the day, Ted, you’re older than her.”

“I know, sir.” Teddy had never called Bill ‘sir’ before, but they felt that it was appropriate at this point in time.

“I don’t want you to force her to do anything she doesn’t want to do. I don’t imagine you will, because you’re a good kid, but you may get caught up in the moment and forget. So if you ever see Vic getting uncomfortable, you better stop whatever the hell you’re doing.”

“Yes, of course. I’d never make her feel uncomfortable.” Bill nodded.

“I know you won’t, and I trust you won’t, but I swear to Merlin, Ted, if you ever hurt my daughter I won’t hesitate to hex you.” Teddy almost wanted to laugh at the threat, but Bill seemed so genuinely serious that they didn’t think it would be wise.

“I promise I won’t hurt a single hair on her head. If I did I’d hex myself.” Bill let out a shadow of his usual grin, walked over to Teddy and patted them on the shoulder.

“I know, mate,” he said, and the two smiled, a shared bond momentarily passing between them over their love for Victoire Weasley, and Teddy felt closer to Bill than he’d ever done before.

~ Teddy stayed for dinner, and all six of them- including Dominique and Louis- sat round the dining table, laughing and chatting like old times. Dominique and Louis were glad to hear that Teddy and Victoire’s relationship was officially out in the open. They’d already known about it, and were starting to get tired of hiding it from their parents.

After dinner had finished and the plates had been washed up and put away, Teddy decided that they’d better get back to their gran’s house. Dominique and Louis said goodbye, Victoire kissed them and Bill shook their hand.

Fleur caught them in the hall when they were putting their jacket on.

“I assume Bill gave you the the whole look-after-her and don’t-hurt-her speech?” She said. Teddy nodded. “Oui, it is a father’s job. But... seriously. Be careful. She loves you so much. She always has done. If you hurt her, it will break her. Please don’t do that.” Teddy looked at her. She was speaking gently, yet the pleading in her voice was evident. Teddy felt their chest constrict, especially at Fleur’s statement that Victoire loved them. Teddy couldn’t help but hug her.

“I promise. I will never hurt Victoire,” they confidently, and almost fiercely, assured.

“Je sais, cherie,” she replied, hugging them back. “You are a good kid. A very good kid.”

~ This was fun to write! And I’ll start working on your other request too!

[artificialqueens]

Pretty in Pearls, Chapter 3 (Jankie) - Plastiquedoll

read on ao3 💄| previous chapters

A/N: hi! I was going to update earlie but things happened...... so here's a new chapter. I hope you enjoy it and thanks for reading it <3

-3-

It was late when they went back to their room, Jan had only two classes in the afternoon but Rosé had one in the morning, yet, they talked for what it felt like hours and Jan only stopped speaking to read Jackie’s message. She was very happy. During that day she had made several friends –something she couldn’t have imagined a week before- she had met some of her professors and attended a couple of classes so she wouldn’t feel as nervous the following day.

In the morning she heard cursing in whispers when Rosé’s alarm went off announcing she had to get ready to go to class. After the girl left, Jan had the room for herself. She laid in bed watching videos on Instagram for a while and then decided it was a good moment to take a shower and get a cup of coffee.

Tuesdays were her lightest days and she could get used to it. She felt fresh out of the shower, braided her hair, and put on some clean clothes before walking out of the dorms.

On her way out she crossed paths with Nicky and who seemed to be her roommate. The girl had orange long hair and a great amount of makeup on but that worked perfectly on her. She also wore high waist pants with a turquoise loose blouse and dangling earrings. Nicky looked as great as the day before with a mauve off-the-shoulder mini dress and a high ponytail.

“Jan!” She waved at her.

“Hi, Nicky! How are you?”

“I’m doing good, thank you.” She smiled at her. “This is Crystal, my roommate. Crystal, this is Jan, the friend I talked you about.”

“Hi!” Crystal greeted Jan with a lot of energy. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, Crystal. Well, I kind of feel like I know you through your room.”

“Oh, God…” She blushed. “I’m not taking the One Direction poster off, I already told Nicky.”

“I swear Niall’s eyes follow me whenever I’m in the room.” Nicky shivered.

Jan giggled.

“I have to go, I’m already running late.” Crystal said while checking the time on her phone. “See you guys later.”

“Don’t forget your keys…” Nicky reminded her.

Crystal pulled a key set with tons of colorful keychains. “Never again. Bye, Jan.”

“Bye!”

After the girl left, Nicky looked at Jan. “You missed a great dinner yesterday.”

“Oh, I imagine but I needed to spend some quality time with my roommate. But I’m still craving Thai food since it was mentioned.”

“There’s no choice, we’ll have to go back soon.”

“Please.”

“Are you heading to class?”

“No, I have my Tuesday mornings free. I was getting some coffee, actually.”

“Ugh, lucky you. I have a class in thirty minutes. Do you mind if I get coffee with you?”

“Sure, that’s great because I was going to google where the café is, I have no idea.”

Nicky just smiled. “I’ll show you the way.”

They walked for a couple of minutes; Nicky pointed to the café’s exterior when they got closer. As soon as they got in the smell of freshly brewed coffee embraced them. Autumn was around the corner and college students demanding pumpkin spice lattes prematurely were flooding the place.

Luckily for them, the line moved fast and the barista quickly took their orders. Jan ordered decaffeinated –because she wasn’t technically allowed to drink coffee after that one incident on St. Patrick’s day- but she compensated it with a lot of sugar and whipped cream. Nicky, on the other hand, asked for an iced Americano.

While they were waiting sitting at a little table, Jan recognized the familiar figure of the one person from her hometown she so badly wanted to see.

“Oh my God…” She suddenly felt coy when he started walking in their direction.

“Janie!” He greeted the girl but his eyes went directly to Nicky who was unimpressed while on her phone.

“Hi, Nathan.”

The name rang a bell for the blonde girl who looked up.

“How are you doing?” He rested half of his arm on almost all the table’s surface.

“Oh you know… just chilling before classes. I have Tuesday mornings free.” She tried to sound chill, smooth even.

“Cool…” He kept staring at the other girl a little too much. “Who’s your friend?”

“Ah, yes… this is Nicky, she’s in the same dorm as I am… Nicky, this is Nathan, he’s…”

“A friend from New Jersey.” He extended his hand to shake Nicky’s but the girl glared at him.

At that moment, their names were called by the barista.

“I’ll get the coffee.” Nicky rushed to leave the table. “Salaud…” She murmured before going.

Jan was thankful because now she had some time to speak with Nathan alone.

“So how’s the-”

“Janie, your friend is smoking and she’s French or something, right? That’s hot. Do you think you could set us up?”

Jan’s spirit sank. She should’ve guessed.

“Uh… I don’t think she’d be interested. She’s already dating someone.”

“What a shame because she’s one hundred percent eye candy.”  His gaze followed Nicky’s curves.

“Besides, I thought you liked that girl you met yesterday,” Jan mentioned shyly.

“Abby? She’s alright I guess but this is week one, I have to keep my options open, you know?” He shrugged. “Can’t wait to hit the baseball field next week again, huh?”

“Yes! I’m so excited about it, actually-”

He threw his backpack over his shoulder. “I gotta run, Janie.”

“Oh, okay… see you.”

“Tell your friend that if she ever needs a rebound…” He left, still looking in Nicky’s direction.

Jan tried to smile but she ended up with a weird grimace.

The blonde returned to the table when he was away.

“Here’s your drink…” She tried to put a real smile on the girl’s face but she failed. “Jan, what is it? Did he tell you something?”

“Oh, no… it’s nothing.” She took a sip of her sweet beverage but didn’t enjoy it as she intended. “It’s just Nathan being Nathan…”

Nicky bit her tongue to avoid telling her he seemed like an asshole.

Jan looked at Nicky, of course he’d be interested in her. She was beyond gorgeous and she was stylish as hell with her pretty dress and makeup while Jan had barely washed her face and put on the first pair of joggings and a graphic t-shirt she found in her drawers.

“I bought you a cookie.” She slid the little chocolate treat in front of her.

“Aw, Nicky… thank you.”

Nicky squeezed her shoulder.

“I have to go to class but I don’t want to leave if you’re feeling down.”

Jan shook her head. “No, I’m fine, really…”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep, I’ll go to the library or drop by the copy room to annoy Jackie a little.”

“She’s in class during the mornings, someone else is running the copy room in the mornings.”

Jan sighed. “The library is then.”

“Always exciting.” Nicky checked the time on her watch. “Now I really have to go. See you later, dear.” She blew a kiss in the air.

“For sure.” She smiled to show Nicky everything was alright even when it wasn’t.

But enough of being pitiful, she had a cup of coffee, a cookie, and the sun was shining outside. She had this.

The library turned out to be a great place to spend some spare time between classes. Jan met the librarian –Mrs. West- who was probably one of the sweetest people she had ever seen and she was kind enough to explain Jan the rules –besides keeping it low in the study and reading area- Jan walked directly to a free desk and pulled out her computer. She needed to check if she was registered correctly on her classes once again just to be sure and she had to revise if her teachers from the previous day had left some new reading –they did.

She read the two papers and prepared a little draft for the next class before she noticed, it was almost noon. Nicky had said Jackie had classes in the morning but maybe she was free already, so Jan pulled out her phone and typed a quick text.

To Jackie C.: Hi Jackie! Nicky told me you were in class I was wondering if you’re out already, I can drop by the copy room :D

The reply arrived a minute later.

From Jackie C.: I’m already out and heading to the copy room, I’ll be there in no time.

And with that, the girl picked up her things and walked following the map that was scribbled over. She rushed toward the copy room in a way that her former high school teacher would’ve scolded her for« running in the hallways». Finally, she opened the door of the room carefully.

“Hello…?” She walked in.

“I’m over here.” Jackie had a little closet in the corner open. “I’m picking some toner for the machine. I swear, every morning it’s the same, Yvie forgets to change it every time and I have to-”

Jackie smiled as soon as she saw Jan waving in front of her.

“Hi, there.”

“Hi! Thank goodness you’re out of class I was so bored… Well, I was being «productive» or something like that –I’m guessing it’s something college students aspire to be- but then the internet of the library started malfunctioning and I got distracted with the little T-Rex game –do you know which one? With his little jumps and tiny arms, it was so cute- and then I wasn’t being productive anymore so…”

“It’s so good to see you again.” Jackie shook her head.

“How was your morning?” She moved closer to the counter.

Jackie pointed at the chair next to her and Jan sat there.

“All of my classes are during the mornings; that’s how I get to work here after I’m done with them.” She explained while changing the copy machine’s toner. “On Tuesdays, I have this one class with a professor that absolutely despises everything I say because –and listen to this- «I try to push a gender agenda» on his classes.” She scoffed. “Only because they don’t mention women in art centuries ago it doesn’t mean that they weren’t there… it’s ridiculous.”

Jan listened to Jackie ranting for ten minutes about the class, the girl was fuming but there was something entertaining about seeing her mad and the way she gestured as if it was a Ted talk… not to mention she did it all while doing the maintenance work of the printers.

“I’m sorry, I really went off with it…”

“No! It’s okay. I don’t know much about art and listening to you is like actually taking a class… but more engaging because you’re pissed and it shows.”

“Yeah… I have to tone it down in class or that… professor… is going to fail me.” Jackie let a big sigh out of her chest. “Anyway, I’m sure Nicky told you about last night’s dinner…”

“Yes! I wanna eat Thai food so badly now… Nicky is great by the way, she’s very nice and helped me a lot with the dorm things. Thank you so much for introducing me to her and Jaida.”

“No worries. They all liked you the moment they met you anyway.”

Jan beamed and blushed a little.

“So, you met your roommate…”

“Oh, right! My roommate, Rosé, is great… we got along like, instantly and she’s a theatre major so now I’m sharing the dorm with a Broadway fangirl. It’s going to be fun.”

“Wait, isn’t that the girl with the pink hair? I’ve seen her a couple of times I think.”

“Yeah, she thought you were very serious.”

“Don’t tell anyone I’m nice, I have a reputation to keep.”

Jan giggled. “But you are nice! I can’t believe people think otherwise.” She snapped her fingers. “You know what, I’m having lunch with her right now. I have a class at one so I was going to head to the cafeteria, why don’t you come with me?”

“I’d love to but I have to stay a little longer before taking my lunch break. If you have a class at one you better hurry before it gets too crowded there.”

“Oh, that’s too bad… I’ll get going there but… text me later?”

“Sure.” Jackie smiled at her.

“Okay, have a nice day! See you later!” The younger waved on her way out.

“Bye, Jan.”

At lunch, Jackie sat with her friends and while she tried to finish reading a museum review of a new exhibition, she got a text message from Jan telling her how boring the class was. Jackie shook her head and replied back to her shortly after.

Widow was next to her chatting with Heidi, Jaida was sitting across the table typing on her phone until Nicky arrived so the quick smile that appeared on her face went unnoticed –thank goodness.

“Bonjour, mon rayon de soleil.” Nicky kissed her on the cheek.

“I’ll pretend I understood every word… hi, baby.” She kissed her back.

The blonde sat next to her and they shared a lovey-dovey look.

“I want what they have,” Heidi whispered while looking at their friends. “What does take to get a girlfriend here? I’m in the art department, it should be easier.”

Widow cackled.

“I thought you had retired from the dating world when Janelle Monáe blocked you on Instagram.”

“Okay, listen… I was nothing but respectful to Miss Monáe, I still don’t understand the reason behind that blocking but yeah…”

“Heidi you don’t want to date, you’re just horny.”

The girl gasped. “How dare you?”

“Because… you can’t keep your interest on one person for more than a week.” Jackie pointed.

“I think you’re better off single.” Widow agreed.

“Excuse me… I came here to have lunch and a lovely chat not to be attacked like this.” Heidi crossed her arms on her chest. “Unbelievable.”

They didn’t say a word.

“You may be right though…” She finally admitted.

“Oh! You know who should get a girlfriend…” Jaida glanced at the brunette in front of her.

Jackie sighed. “We’ve been through this yesterday… I already told you she’s out of the conversation.”

“I didn’t give any names though,” Jaida smirked. “You did that to yourself.”

Jackie blushed. “Whatever… I’m too busy to date anyway.”

“But you’d make an exception for a special someone, wouldn’t you?” Nicky pushed.

“She’s straight.”

“So it’s pasta until it gets hot and wet.” Heidi pointed.

“Heidi!”

The table burst into laughter.

“Enough with that, I’m serious. The last thing I want is Jan to feel awkward, she already has a lot on her plate.”

“Right, all jokes aside… I met the guy she pines after this morning…” Nicky started gossiping. “and my goodness he’s even worse than what I pictured… a jerk with capital letters. I think he was trying to get my number through Jan.”

They all made a disgusted sound in response.

“No fucking way…” Heidi’s mouth dropped.

“She deserves better and I don’t even know her personally.” Widow stated.

They agreed, especially Jackie who had seen the guy the day before breaking Jan’s heart in just a matter of seconds.

“Maybe meeting new people will help her seeing beyond his… spell?” Jaida raised an eyebrow.

“He’s not that charming, trust me.” Her girlfriend assured, basing her opinion on the –hopefully- only encounter they had. “But anyway… Crystal has classes until four…” She looked at Jaida with bedroom eyes. “would you like to take a nap with me?”

Jaida caught the hint instantly. “See y’all later, bitches.” She stuck out her tongue and both left the table.

“Maybe I am just horny.” Heidi reflected before sipping her apple juice.

“Be honest with me, do you hang out with us because you like us, or is it part of your sociology thesis investigation?” Jackie asked Widow.

“Bitch, you’ll never know.” She chuckled.

A week had passed and with that, Jan had established a little routine: in the mornings she would go to the library –sometimes on her own, sometimes with her roommate or one of her classmates-, she had lunch at the cafeteria in rotating schedules –as if she was the loving child of a divorced couple- during the afternoons she was at the copy room whenever she had some spare time and when Jackie was there and afterward she’d have dinner with her and her friends or with Rosé. They all ended up having dinner together on Friday night so Jan was secretly hoping the group would merge into one big supergroup.

She had also become close with Jackie’s friends including Widow of whom she had heard a lot but was formally introduced to a few days later and with Crystal, Nicky’s roommate who shared the struggles of being a freshman like her. Plus, she met one of Rosé’s friends from her musical comedy class as well, a girl called Lagoona that adopted Jan immediately and kept teaching her Spanish words.

On the weekend she watched cartoons wearing pajamas with the girls from her dorm in the lounge room and then completed some assignments for her classes with Crystal at the same place.

On Monday, however, she was extra excited –more than usual- because it was the day she was going to play baseball again. She could almost smell the grass of the field, the rubber of her sneakers, and the leather material of the ball… She could picture herself running around scoring like no other.

And because she was so thrilled, time seemed to pass slower than ever.

“Jackie…” She cried while sitting on her –now- regular reserved spot behind the countertop. “I still have to wait another two hours…”

“Two hours are almost nothing, c’mon.” The brunette was in the middle of copying a Shakespeare play for a group of students from the Literature department. “Besides, it’s not like it’s been years since the last time you played.”

“It’s been like two months.” She pouted. “Two long never-ending months.” She dragged the words to make emphasis on her sadness.

“But you survived.” Jackie pointed out before reaching for the staple on the shelf.

That day, Jackie was wearing a pleated plaid skirt with a knitted long sweater and mid-heel loafers. She moved smoothly in the limited space; Jan had memorized her moves by the time; she knew exactly when she had to lean back for the brunette to pass through while she mumbled something about Yvie not taking proper care of the machines or when she was fighting with the printer that didn’t mind for the students’ urgencies at all. She had also discovered that Jackie always hummed to California Dreamin’ no matter how often it played on the radio, that she liked gourmet jelly beans and that she had a stock of candy hidden somewhere -only she hadn’t found her secret spot yet.

“Hi, Jackie.” A girl hummed with a melodic voice as she rested her elbows on the countertop while batting her lashes overly.

Jackie, who was on her back stapling a final set of copies, took a deep breath as she recognized the owner of the voice right away.

“Hello, Vanessa.” She spun on her heels and faced the girl. “What can I do for you?” Her tone was deadpan.

Vanessa, the girl in question, was gorgeous with her long black hair perfectly curled, flawless makeup, and clothing; she was wearing a cropped pullover with the word «Angel» stamped on it a and pair of high-waisted jeans. She was tiny but she wasn’t scared of wearing high high-heels.

She flashed a dazzling smile as soon as Jackie turned around.

“Are you finally going to accept going on a date with me?” She blurted out.

Jan’s eyes got wide. Her type of courage was worth admiring, she was certainly fearless.

“No,” Jackie replied, coldly. “I’ve told you before; I’m not going to date you.”

Jan gasped but Vanessa didn’t even flinch. She just waved her hair and readjusted her pose.

Oh, she was about to say something, wasn’t she? Jan looked, expectant.

“Please…” She pouted. “Pretty please? You can’t say no to a pretty please.”

Jackie rolled her eyes. “There we go.” She shook her head and sighed. “Look, I’m not going to repeat the whole speech but if you have something for me to print or copy, I’m all ears.”

This time, Jan couldn’t keep it to herself. “Jackie!” She shouted and jumped off the chair.

The brunette turned toward her. “What? It’s Vanessa.” She said as if that was a fair justification.

Vanessa waved. “And who are you?” She looked at Jackie, then at Jan, and then at Jackie again. “Is she your girlfriend?”

“No.” Jackie blushed a little. “This is my friend, Jan. Jan, this is Vanessa she’s a sophomore that testes my patience since she was a freshman.”

“I worked very hard for that title.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Jan!” She shook her hand.

“Vanessa has an on and off long-distance relationship and she likes to flirt when she’s on the «off» side,” Jackie explained.

The girl shrugged. “Can you blame a girl for asking? I gotta try once in a while at least.”

Jan chuckled.

“Anyway, can you copy the marked pages of this textbook? I need it for class, you’ll be glad to know I didn’t come here exclusively to ask you out. Although…”

“Give me the book.” The brunette extended her hand to grab the object, Vanessa held it tightly for an instant but Jackie pulled it. “I’ll be done in a couple of minutes.”

“Thank you!” She smiled showing all her teeth. Then she turned back to Jan. “So Jan, is it…?”

“Don’t even try it!” Jackie yelled from the distance.

Once her shift was over, Jackie closed the copy room and walked around for a little before deciding to take a look at Jan’s baseball practice. She told herself it was okay to drop by, after all, she had been hearing about it all afternoon, she was curious now. But being honest, she had to ask around to find where the baseball field was –she didn’t even know their university had a women’s team before she met Jan- so she wandered through the corridors before finding the door that led to where they were playing.

The lights were on since their practice was after sunset and most students had classes during the day. The perimeter was surrounded by a chain-link fence so she guessed that was how close she could get to the field; she finally found a bleachers section -and she was one-hundred percent sure people smoked weed behind them.

She sat holding her purse against her chest. It seemed she made it just in time; it was Jan’s turn to bat. Even in the distance, Jackie had never seen the younger so focused on something as she was at that moment, it was like watching a completely different person. She moved into position and prepared.

She had the number eleven on the left sleeve of her striped uniform, purple socks on and a pair of shoes –already- covered in dirt. She adjusted her high ponytail under her cap before grabbing the wood bat with determination. Jan’s eyes were sharp as she tried to read into the pitcher’s moves.

Jackie had a shiver.

The pitcher threw the ball and she missed it, it went directly to the catcher’s glove. The brunette mouthed some curse. She had never been this invested in some sport.

Second attempt, she would get it this time. Jackie crossed her fingers, her heart was beating faster.

The pitcher threw the ball again and this time, it impacted against Jan’s bat making a thunderous noise that echoed everywhere. Jackie gasped, her eyes followed the girl’s figure as she ran as fast as she could before one of the players grabbed the ball from the ground. Now she knew her heart was about to break her ribcage, she couldn’t get herself to calm down. Jan was running and running like a roadrunner cartoon and she was about to make it when the players started passing the ball, maybe someone was going to catch her before she made it. But she was so close, just one more base to go. She ran, encouraged by her teammates, and drifted creating a cloud of dirt around the base.

She made it.

Home run.

“Yes! Yes!” Jackie cheered and raised her hands in the air.

Apparently, loud enough for the whole team to hear it.

Jan, who was bent over her knees, still out of breath due to her incredible race, grinned and waved as soon as she recognized Jackie. The brunette smiled back and clapped discreetly, even when she had just displayed such enthusiastic behavior.

The team -mainly the batter- had gained a new fan and the season hadn’t even started.

[argylemikewheeler]

|| i saw this post and just had the idea of will freaking out at mike for being tall-- but of course that’s not really what it’s about. just something short and sweet (literally) for you || ao3

It’s in the grocery store that Will just snaps at him. Will’s going shopping for his mom after school. It’s no big thing; Will enjoys the time alone. Except of course, it’s the last day before spring break and Mike’s skipped the last day of school and driven up to see him. Mike’s an extra set of hands to help brings bags into the house, and he’s not too bad of a driver to man the cart.

When Mike pulls up to the house-- just as Will’s grabbing his bag and getting to Jonathan’s car-- he looks so different. His hair is just a little shorter-- cropped and kept, just how Ted likes it, but with Karen’s kind influence of letting him be, Ted, come on. The main thing, at least to Will, is that he’s taller. The man is taller. Will feels his neck crack as he tilts back, just a little. He didn’t shrink, but when Mike runs up to him, he swears he did.

When Will is silent and stares at him for a while, Mike replies that he’s six-foot-two. Which is fine. It’s fine. It’s just that Will is five-foot-six still. But whatever. It’s fine.

Will kind of forgets about it-- forgets about how his new friends call him small. not short but small; how his new doctor is worried he’s stunted from all his “medical trauma” and is trying to talk his mother into having him take steroids; how he secretly likes being the same height because he knows his mom can’t afford buying both him and El new clothes; how he hates that the first thing people notice between him and Mike isn’t even that they’re two men since Will’s short enough to match people’s perception of what “normal” couples look like. Will just forgets about it. And for a while it’s nice.

Mike doesn’t know jack shit about vegetables and Will teaches him how to pick fruit that is just the right amount of unripe so it will last longer in the fridge. Mike pushes the cart and nods, at least pretending he’s enjoying the lesson. It’s 1988 and Mike places his hand on Will’s back when he stands and stares at the wall of soup cans, trying to read prices and brands quickly. It’s 1988 and Will doesn’t even watch how he says “Michael”. It’s a nice outing until they get to the cereal aisle.

It is nearly cleaned out, all the extra boxes up on the top shelf in disorganized storage stacks. Will groans and steps up onto the bottom shelf, his hand straining as he feels around for a box of something. His ribs are pressed to the middle shelf and he tries to keep from swearing. There’s an older lady with two young kids that’s been watching them since they arrived in the aisle-- Mike’s hand gently finding Will’s-- and Will doesn’t want to give her any ammunition to start shouting.

“Would you like some help, Will?” Mike laughs and grabs him under the arms. He hoists Will nearly like he’s weightless, helping him step down to the floor again.

Will sighs. “Yes.”

“What do you want?” Before Will can answer, Mike is sliding box after box down and placing them on the shelves in front of Will’s eye line. “I’ve got ‘em all.”

“I just needed the Cheerios, thanks.” Will grumbles, taking the box and tossing it into the cart. He pushes the cart and they leave the woman’s stare. He feels tense all over again. He forgets to keep forgetting about it-- about everything-- for a moment.

“How do you do this without me.” Mike is simply trying to tease him-- be verbally affectionate when his hands can only jostle his shoulders. “I need to think about moving up here you don’t have to struggle every time you just want to buy something--”

“Shut up, Mike.”

“W--What? What did I say? Was it that you’re short? Because... Will, we know this. It’s my favorite thing about you, you know that.”

“I don’t really want to hear it right now.” Will isn’t aware he’s clenching his teeth until he hears himself speak. “Being small is kind of not my favorite.”

“Oh, but-- It’s fun! You fit right under my arm and you don’t really need to steal as much of the blankets when we sleep--”

“Mike.” Will tries to drop out from under Mike’s arm: he placed it around his shoulders to demonstrate his point. Will is suddenly very aware that they’re two men, even if from every other angle no one seems to notice because he’s... a full eight inches shorter than Mike. It doesn’t feel great to be able to excuse homophobia because he’s as short as a girl. “Mike, please shut up.”

“What?” He’s sincere, but he’s still very confused. He still thinks it’s about being short. He doesn’t move his arm. “OH, well, actually I do hate the whole you-get-to-steal-my-clothes-thing. But if those are the reparations--”

“Would you just shut up, Tall Boy!” Will snaps, twisting around to face Mike. They’re in the middle of the baby section, where no one would be likely to stumble into them.

“T-Tall Boy?” Mike laughs, but he’s still trying to figure out that Will’s genuinely upset. “I-- What? What happened? Did I say something?”

“Yes! Stop talking about how short I am. I hate it.” Will doesn’t know why but he chokes up a little. He pretends he needs to be looking at plastic sippy cups. They look so out of place when the older lady and her children come strolling past. “I hate remembering I’m short.”

“Remembering.” Mike repeats. “Do you... forget?”

“El grew four inches in like... two months.”

“Okay...”

“Mom had to buy her new skirts and jeans because they got too short, too fast. It was the middle of winter and her ankles were so chapped-- She worked another two shift to pay for it.” Will’s breathing is choppy and it’s so stupid. Mike is silent, but because he’s listening, which is still weird for Will to think about.

“Okay. So short is good. You’ve got all your clothes and you’ve got all mine if you need it. And I’m sure Steve’s got more stuff that’s up your alley. It’s okay. Will, it’s okay. I won’t let you go cold.” Mike places his hands on Will’s shoulders, his thumbs brush against his neck.

“They say I’m small at school.” Will pushes through. “Small. You know what else is small? Babies are small. Mistakes are small. OH and you know what is usually small? Girls. Girls are small-- except my sister. Who’s giant--”

“She’s only like... five-nine.”

“Mike.”

“Sorry, literal perspective I see is not the point here.” He nods. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s just-- People don’t think you’re gay sometimes.” Will realizes this doesn’t make sense to anyone but him.

“Uh. That’s... I’m not sure that’s our fault.”

“Well, see, it’s my fault. From a distance, I look like your girlfriend. Not a very, short short man.”

“Well, that’s not your fault. People are blind and weird and straight. That’s not-- You’re not a girl, Will. You definitely aren’t a girl nor look like one or act like one or-- You just aren’t. Being short is not a fault!”

Will sighs and leans into Mike’s hand. “You’re supposed to say that. You’re my boyfriend.”

“I could complain-- would you like me to?” Mike says with a smile. His eyebrows are still furrowed though: he’s upset. “I hate that you can fit comfortably on any bed we share. I hate that... You sometimes can buy kids’ shirts? Because they’re always cooler. Like, you have one you bought as a painting smock that has a freakin shark on it and I gotta say... Men’s clothes, not as cool! I’m less cool as my art school boyfriend because I got tall too quick. Dude, that sucks. I want to be cool like you!”

Will is definitely crying, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. He laughs and smiles. He hopes it makes up for his sniffling. “You think I’m cool?”

“Yeah! My cool, short boyfriend. He’s awesome and he’s super nice because he... worries about the socio-political meaning of him being short. Like. He’s so smart. So smart.”

“He’s the only one who knows what the hell a mango is in your relationship.” Will says, wiping his eyes.

“Yeah! Concentrated intelligence!” Mike reaches for Will’s underarms again. He catches Will’s smile before jokingly hoisting him an inch off the ground. “He’s better because of-- everything, but right now let’s say it’s because he’s not a six-foot-two monster who hits his head on every door frame in his house.”

“Oh my god-- is that what that bump is from?” Will hiccups, laughter nearly scaring him. “Oh, Michael, you poor.... tall thing.”

They laugh in the baby aisle until Will’s face is less red and puffy. As they walk, Mike makes jokes about the weird names of food brands. He offers to get Will things on all shelves, just being a helpful partner rather than a shopping giraffe. He repeats Will’s name every time he speaks to him and someone is in earshot. Will smiles and each time calls him a sappier and sweeter version of “Michael”. Will finishes shopping and feels rather accomplished as they pack the car up.

He forgets about everything again for a while. Everything but Mike. Well, Mike, but more importantly how he makes him feel: so happy, so listened to, so short. And it’s all okay. It’s nothing. Just one small thing in a short life full of so many wonderful, loving things.

[7-wonders]

Shatter pt. 11

Summary: It’s back to the future for you and Mallory, to either find out what went right...or what went very wrong.

Word Count: 4556

A/N: One or two more chapters for this lil fic! As always, feedback is always appreciated, like, reblog, and comment, you know the drill by now.

The first thing that you hear when you arrive back in the year that you left is...nothing. In fact, you’re surrounded by complete silence. The eerie stillness of the room is an unwelcome presence that witnesses your return, considering all you could hear was screaming and gunshots when you pulled Mallory under the water. Coughing water up to get your lungs working properly, you wipe your hands over your eyes until you can finally see again. Droplets hang off of your eyelashes like small crystals, clouding your eyesight whenever you blink. Mallory sits next to you, mimicking your actions as she tries to regain her bearings again after being thrown through time and space again and again in such a short amount of time.

“Did...did we do it?” Mallory asks, taking your hands in hers as you both stand and clamber out of the tub. The room that you’re in doesn’t look like the one at the Outpost, even though the large stone tub is the same. Mallory’s still wearing the clothes that she was in when you were stopping the execution of Ms. Mead, and a quick look down confirms that you are, too. 

“I don’t know, did Cordelia ever tell you how you would know if events were changed?”

“No. Honestly, I assumed there would be some giant flash of light or something to signify that we had accomplished what we set out to achieve.” Mallory grabs your hand, muttering a spell that dries both your body and hers.

“I guess the only way to find out is by leaving the room,” you say without showing any intention towards actually leaving the room. 

“I guess so,” Mallory concurs, also standing still next to you. You glance at her at the same time that she glances at you, a silent battle over who is going to actually take the initiative first. 

“I’m going to have to lead the way, aren’t I.” It’s not a question: you’re going to have to lead.

“Hey, it’s not my Antichrist lover that we’re up against.”

She’s right, and you hate that she is, but you’re the one who convinced her to change the plan that she had been working towards for three years, just for the sake of saving Michael. You’re uncharacteristically hesitant, and you know that it all leads back to Michael. Everything, it seems, leads back to Michael. If the apocalypse didn’t happen, what has become of him? If he still ended the world, what’s going to happen to you? With a nod and a reassuring smile from Mallory, you wave your hand to open the door in front of you. 

It’s obvious that you’re not in the Outpost, but it’s not immediately clear where you could be. The large open window at the end of the hallway allowing a light breeze to filter through and blow the translucent curtains inwards captures your attention. Not only is there wind, but there’s also natural light coming in. It’s impossible to make any assumptions based solely on this observation, but it’s certainly a promising sign. Mallory, however, focuses on a different facet of the hallway.

“Are we at Miss Robichaux’s?” 

Her question sends your glee to a screeching halt. A closer look at the hallway reveals stark white walls and the French Quarter architecture synonymous with historic New Orleans. Any doubts you may have about where you’re at is erased when you look at the portraits on the wall; classes of years past, a variety of young women all in black dresses that vary from time period to time period. It’s odd to be back at the school that fostered your magical abilities, since the last time you were here, you had to see the dead bodies of your sisters. Still, no matter what could have happened here, this was once home for you. I am home, you think in amazement. I am home.

“I’m so confused, I thought we came back to the present. Why are we here and not at Hawthorne?” You ask, fingertips tracing along an old picture frame from 1912. 

“Maybe the timeline resets when we come back and we’ve actually changed something, maybe this is where we would be if there was no apocalypse,” Mallory surmises, grinning at the thought that you’ve stopped the end of the world. “Miss Cordelia!” She calls, taking off around the corner as she looks for any sign of other witches.

“Mal, wait!” You follow behind her, glancing into the bedrooms and coming up empty. “Anybody home?”

You follow her down the grand staircase, still looking around for any of your sisters. You’re so preoccupied with looking towards the dining room for anyone doing homework that you run smack into Mallory’s back at the bottom of the stairs.

“Ouch! Why’d you stop?” She doesn’t answer, and you move out from behind her to see what stopped her so suddenly. Your attention, originally solely on Mallory, is drawn to the figure standing in the middle of the main entrance. The smirk that’s directed at you is one that has your heart nearly jumping out of your chest, your head spinning as you try to wrap your mind around what you’re seeing.

“You look surprised to see me.”

“Michael, you’re--you’re here. And you look like...you.” By ‘you,’ of course, you mean that Michael Langdon looks like the Michael Langdon that you had been hoping to come back to. His long golden locks fall to his shoulders, and he’s wearing a luxurious black velvet cloak with a deep red lining on top of a black suit that’s somehow a shade or two lighter than the cloak. His eyes twinkle at your confusion, accented by his signature red shade that somehow makes those baby blues of his pop even more.

“Of course I am. I would not miss the chance to welcome you back to the present after your time traveling adventure.” Your feet move of their own accord, propelling you over to him as you choke back a cry. “Love, there is no reason for your tears. I’m here now, it’s going to be alright.”

“I was just so worried that it wouldn’t work and that you would either die or the apocalypse would still happen,” you smile up at him, stroking his hair away from his face as he kisses you softly. “Sorry Mallory, I didn’t mean to make you the third wheel-”

Your words trail off as you turn around in Michael’s arms, Mallory frozen where she’s standing. She’s not frozen in the sense that she’s so stunned by the scene in front of her that she can’t even move; she’s actually frozen, suspended in time as if she’s a statue of someone walking down the stairs. Her hand rests on the bannister, one foot stuck in the air as she prepares to take a step that’s never coming. Her head is tilted up, eyes focusing to the side as if she were turning around to look at you.

“Michael, you promised me that you wouldn’t hurt her,” you say seriously, taking a step closer to make sure that Mallory’s still alive and hasn’t unknowingly faced some sort of Medusa-like creature. Michael grabs at your hand, gracefully taking your chin in his free hand and tilting it so that you’re looking at him again.

“And it’s a promise that I intend to keep. She’s not dead, or harmed, she is just--”

“You froze her like Han Solo, basically.” He looks at you in confusion and you shake your head. “Never mind. Could you unfreeze her now?”

“Hmm, but I quite like her like that, she’s a lot less...annoying this way.” You roll your eyes, jokingly hitting his chest while he chuckles. The small moment of playfulness is needed, it helps to remind you that the world is okay again. Michael sighs, smiling at you before blinking once and releasing Mallory from the spell.

She stumbles forward down the remaining step, almost as if Michael hit the ‘play’ button on a television remote. Her mind reels as she takes in the sight of you next to Michael when the last she remembers, you were still behind her. She glances between both you and Michael, trying to figure out what magic was used to manipulate the situation. 

“Wipe that confused look off of your face, Mallory, it’s very unbecoming of you,” Michael scoffs.

“So we did it, then? We--,” Mallory trails off, not sure if the rules of time travel allow for people to discuss the prior timeline.

“Oh don’t worry, Bill and Ted, I already know about your most excellent adventure.” You stifle a laugh at Michael’s reference of pop culture, knowing that the only reason he’s seen the movie is because you forced him to. 

“But I thought nobody was supposed to remember the erased timeline except for us?” You question, looking at Mallory, who’s far more knowledgeable on the spell than you are. 

“You forget that I’m not just any normal person,” Michael says proudly. “When I had reached the room that Cordelia had locked you in, both you and Mallory were already gone. It seemed like mere seconds, although I assume that you were actually gone for hours. Suddenly, I started getting flashes of memories. They were memories that I hadn’t experienced, but that I were mine all the same. Instead of my Ms. Mead being burned at the stake, you were there to stop the execution and convince me to join forces with Cordelia. I had conflicting memories from both of these timelines, sort of like a fork in the road of two different lives that I was living simultaneously.”

“Ms. Mead was the catalyst, then. Her death is the reason that you brought about the end of the world.”

“In the original timeline, yes.” Your heart sinks at Michael’s words.

“What do you mean, ‘in the original timeline?’ Did something happen in this timeline to cause the apocalypse?” Mallory asks, barely controlling the shaking in her voice. 

“Not in the way that you think. See, if there’s one thing retaining my memories from the original timeline taught me, it’s that my original apocalypse was far too messy. I’ve never been a fan of getting my hands dirty; learned that from my father. This time around, I decided, it wasn’t the Earth that was the problem: it was the people. I wasn’t going to launch my little plan without a justified reason, and so I waited and watched to see if my assumptions about the human race were correct.”

The walls feel like they’re closing in on you, and you have to will yourself to not stumble over your feet. “What did--what did you do? Michael, what did you do?” You gasp out.

“The real question is what they did to bring this upon themselves,” he says with a grim look on his face.

“I don’t understand.”

“The witches tried to use the one person I care for more than Ms. Mead, more than anybody in the entire world: you.”

“They did that in the original timeline too, though.”

“This wasn’t something as simple as erasing your memory and sending you off to wait for the moment the witches needed you again. Cordelia almost killed you, (Y/N).”

“She wouldn’t do that, she wouldn’t--she couldn’t kill one of us,” Mallory says, both of you feeling a bit faint at this bombshell of a revelation.

“She never forgave your actions at the would-be triple execution that day, considering your interference treasonous. That and your relationship with me, along with a few...other events that, while miniscule, only seemed to add fuel to her fire. Therefore, she decided that you needed to die.”

Your mouth goes dry as Mallory lets out a heavy breath next to you. “How?” You ask, only managing to get one syllable out.

“‘How’ what?”

“How did she try to kill me?” Your voice is hoarse, and you swallow thickly to try and clear your throat.

“Cordelia attempted to slit your throat on an evening that I was supposed to be back in California for a meeting with some of my father’s subjects. I, however, knew she was plotting something, had seen it through the carefully-constructed walls she had attempted to put up to guard her mind. It really would just be easier if I showed you.” Michael holds his hand out expectantly, but you look at Mallory before looking pleadingly back at him. “Fine. Mallory, take (Y/N)’s hand.”

She does as instructed, holding onto you as Michael clasps your free one in his large hands. The coolness of his large, bejeweled rings on your skin is comfortingly familiar, and you raise his hands to your lips to kiss them softly. Michael’s eyes roll back into his head, and the scene flickers to life in your head like a movie being played on a projector.

Cordelia approaches your bedroom, a knife in her hand and a plan in her head. She’s been waiting for the right moment to do this, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to get close to you with Michael always around. Michael being gone on a sudden trip to California, though, presents the Supreme with the perfect opportunity. Her plan is simple: slit your throat, lock your soul up before whatever entity (she’s not sure if Satan’s laid claim to your soul, but she hopes for her sake that he hasn’t) that has dibs on it gets there first, and burn your body to ashes. It’s a quick and painless death, one that Cordelia feels is a mercy to you. She could burn you alive, listen to you writhe and scream in agony as the flames consume every inch of your flesh, but she won’t. That punishment is reserved only for those who have murdered their fellow witches or warlocks.

She supposes she has her mother to thank for the creativity that comes with killing a problematic witch. Fiona Goode, may God have mercy on her soul, was a conniving, stone-cold bitch who was only good for drinking copious amounts of fine alcohol and accruing untold amounts of money. Her one skill, however, happened to be getting rid of those witches who wouldn’t fall in line, the ones who were always on the verge of causing complete chaos within the Coven. Her methods are legendary, each disposal carefully recorded in a little book that resides inside of a larger book inside of a locked box in a secret drawer of Cordelia’s desk. A trophy, because of course Fiona wouldn’t be able to not gloat about her supposed accomplishments. For years she avoided looking inside of the book, having never had a reason or desire to do so. Now, however, she has both a reason and a desire.

Her mother’s drink of choice--whiskey sour, on the rocks--perched in her manicured hand, Cordelia perused the book like it was a magazine catalogue, quickly and calculatingly reading through each entry to decide which would be the best way to end your life. Some entries surprised her, while others warranted barely more than a second glance. She always had a niggling suspicion that Fiona had had something to do with Madison’s first death. Fiona hardly strayed from the tried-and-true method of throat slitting in her later years, and Cordelia admitted to herself that she saw the appeal in it too. If she had to kill someone, one of her girls, at that, at least it was a quick way for the person to go. 

The door to your room opens without even a squeak to announce Cordelia’s presence. Even if there had been a noise, it wouldn’t have woken you up. The benzodiazepine that the Supreme slipped into the glass of water you use to take your pills with made absolutely sure that you would remain asleep until it was too late. You’re facing away from the door, moonlight bathing your form as your chest rises and falls evenly with deep breaths. Cordelia’s heart clenches at the thought of what she’s about to do, and she has to squeeze her eyes shut to avoid turning around and forgetting about her plan to murder you in the first place. 

With each step she takes, she reminds herself of a reason why she needs to do this. Left foot, you stopped Ms. Mead from being killed. Right foot, you recruited Mallory to your side. Left foot, you were involved in a romantic relationship with the Antichrist and loved him despite the fact. Right foot, your relationship was only prolonging the inevitable apocalypse that would befall the Earth for as long as Michael remained alive. The point now is to catch Michael when he’s at his weakest, in the throes of grief, and kill him as well.

Cordelia tangles her fingers in your hair, exposing your neck to her as your head lolls limply to the side. The light from the hallway glints off of the silver blade of the knife when Cordelia lifts it up. She looks at it closely, ‘inspecting’ it and certainly not trying to stall in the hopes that you’ll just spontaneously combust and do the job for her. With a deep breath, the Supreme digs the knife into the left side of your neck, pressing down until it cuts the surface of your skin and blood wells up before readying her hand for one quick slice. When she does finally go to complete the action, her hand seizes, refusing to cooperate with her mind before the knife flies across the room and lands in the wall.

You shoot up with a gasp, too many things happening at once. Cordelia tries to escape, but she shrieks and stumbles backwards when she’s engulfed in flames. Just as quickly as the flames appear, they extinguish, but Cordelia finds herself pinned against the wall by an unseen force. Your hand claps over the deep cut on your neck as you stare at the scene with wide eyes. The shadows in the corner of the room seem to move and warp, and it’s not at all surprising when Michael walks out of the darkness. The shadows and all of the creatures that lurk within are Satan’s domain, so it was only a matter of time until Michael harnessed that power as well.

Fire blazes in Michael’s eyes, and he stalks towards Cordelia like a predator closing in on its kill. Her heart sinks when she realizes that he must have been able to break through the fortress she put up around her mind, devising a clever lie about having to suddenly leave town in order to catch her in the act. The only thing that stops his slow, methodical pace is when he reaches you. His hand closes gently around yours, removing it from your neck so he can fully see the wound. His nostrils flare at the damage, and you cling to him in fear and disorientation as the benzo tries it's hardest to knock you back out. He looks into your eyes, muttering words of reassurance to you and kissing your forehead before you finally agree to let go of the hem of his coat.

Michael holds his hand out, and the knife dislodges from the wall and lands back in his hand. He traces it along Cordelia’s bare skin, watching with glee as her body stiffens. The tip comes dangerously close to nicking her collarbone, Michael purposely applying more pressure. When the blade reaches the swell of her breast, he stops, angling the knife so one skillful shove could have pierced her heart. Cordelia’s chest heaves as she engages in a silent battle with Michael, both parties refusing to concede any ground.

“Go ahead, kill me. You won’t be able to do it,” Cordelia declares. Michael clicks his tongue, laughing darkly and shaking his head.

“Oh, I’m not going to kill you. That would be too much of a mercy for you.” His hand closes itself over her neck, slowly applying pressure on her windpipe until only shallow breaths are escaping her throat. “Instead, I’m going to end the world, and you’re going to be forced to watch, knowing all the while that it’s your fault this is happening. And only then, after the world is remade in my father’s image, will I kill you. And I promise you, Cordelia, that it will be a slow and painful death, the likes of which you could never even imagine.”

Tears are falling down your face when Michael lets go of you, and once glance at Mallory confirms that she’s in the same state. You’re in disbelief that your Supreme, the woman you trusted with your life and who became a surrogate mother to you, would choose to kill you because of your relationship with Michael. How could she so callously plan out your execution as if each choice were for some sort of a dinner party? You knew she could go to great extremes to do what she believed needed to be done to keep the coven safe, but you never thought murdering one of her girls would be an option.

“Now you see. I tested Cordelia, and she failed. The human race failed, and the world needed to be cleansed and ruled by myself and my father,” Michael says.

“How are we above ground, then?” You ask.

“As I said previously, my first attempt at Armageddon was far too messy and complicated. This time around, a simple plague was all it took to wipe out humanity while leaving the good parts of the world intact. That way, it’s much easier to rebuild with an already-strong foundation.”

“How very biblical of you, Michael. Did lamb’s blood over a doorway save people, as well?” You scoff at the irony of his method this time around, invoking a plague much like that brought upon the Egyptians to free the Israelites.

“Part of a strong foundation,” Michael says, choosing to ignore your comment instead of taking the bait, “includes those with the right genetic makeup to repopulate the world. The people who were originally saved in the first timeline survived the plague this time.” You sigh in relief at the knowledge that Timothy and Emily are both still alive. “You’ll be pleased to know, (Y/N), that your dear friend Gallant also has superior DNA. He’s alive and well in California right now.” That’s news you could cry at, and you almost do.

“What about the witches and warlocks? Did you slaughter all of them again?” Mallory asks.

“No, I presented them with a choice: either they joined me and pledged their loyalty as my obedient subjects, or they died. Quite simple, really.”

Mallory looks at you as you both start mentally cataloguing who would have accepted Michael’s offer. A good number of the warlocks must have, but you can’t imagine that John Henry Moore would. As for witches, the numbers are slim. Zoe wouldn’t unless Madison did, the two sticking together even though they’ve long claimed that there’s nothing special going on between them. Queenie, too, if Michael managed to gain her trust again in this timeline. It’s possible that Coco did, considering the Coco you knew before your memories were wiped was sweet and caring. Besides those few, the rest most likely perished.

“You’re correct, for the most part,” Michael says, having listened in on Mallory’s thoughts. “A lot of the warlocks were never going to be worthy of living in the New World, so I disposed of them quick enough. Madison, Queenie, and Coco all decided to save themselves, but Zoe refused to go down without a fight. I was honestly quite surprised at just how many witches jumped at the chance to fall to their knees at my feet.”

“So that’s it, then. We lost. Even going back in time and killing Michael wouldn’t have stopped this,” Mallory says in despair.

“You were right in the Outpost, when you said you were always going to win,” you say in almost a whisper.

“Time travel is a fickle thing, and it’s almost impossible to work out if there are any true rules that govern it. However, I’ve come to believe that time is a repeating loop. Think of it like...developing photographs in a darkroom. You can change the contrast, and how much light is exposed, and how long you develop it for, but the image itself will always remain the same. You can’t change what’s on that film, no matter what edits you do during the process of developing said photo. Nothing you did would have stopped the end result, what has been printed on the very fabric of the universe since the beginning of time,” Michael explains.

“Now what?”

“We rebuild the world, of course. But that leaves you both with a choice.” His eyes meet yours first, a rare flash of vulnerability hidden within the pale irises, like he’s worrying that you’ll have finally decided to leave him just like everyone in his life. “(Y/N), will you stand beside me as my equal, as my queen, and help me with the mission bestowed upon me as my father’s one begotten son?”

There’s not a moment’s hesitation behind your eager nod, “of course I will, Michael. I’ll always stand at your side.” Michael takes your face in between his hands, kissing you gratefully. Although he’s rather eloquent with words, sometimes his actions prove far more effective at conveying what he wants to say.

“I love you,” he mutters against your lips, causing you to smile before repeating the words back to him. When he pulls away from you, the only sign that he was even kissing you are his slightly red lips, managing to look as put-together and stoic as ever, even though Mallory watched the entire encounter. 

“Mallory, will you accept your place in this world as your sister witches prior to you have done?” Michael asks as you look at her hopefully. She’s silent, studying Michael as she calculates her next move.

“I...I need to know that we won’t be used and thrown away as you had planned in the original timeline. Witches can be a valuable asset to you, Michael, but you won’t be able to use that asset if you don’t hold our magic, and our people, in high regard. You certainly haven’t forgotten that (Y/N) is one of us, too?”

“You have my word. If anything, your actions over those eighteen months in the other timeline have proven your loyalty, not only to (Y/N), but to your coven. That loyalty is an admirable quality, and it’s one that we’ll need when rebuilding.”

“Then yes, I will accept.” You clasp your hands in front of your face, hiding your wide smile as Mallory accepts. Your cheeks burn as Michael replaces your hands with just two of his delicate fingers, turning your attention back to him as he smiles lovingly down at you. 

“And now, my love, my queen,” you giggle nervously at the moniker, “I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” Your eyes light up, although you’re not quite sure you could be anymore surprised after everything that’s happened since you emerged from that tub upstairs.

“Mmhm. It involves a certain fading Supreme, and an immense amount of retribution.”

///////////////

Tag List: @sammythankyou @queencocoakimmie @girlycakepops @sebastianshoe @pastel-cloudz @nana15774 @lichellaw @ultragibbycentralworld @grim-adventures58 @dandycandy75 @trimbooohgodplsnoooo @everything-is-awesomesauce @ccodyfern @jimmlangdon @langdonsdemon @langdonslove @omgsuperstarg @nsainmoonchild @mrsnegan25

[sallyface-incorrect]

The Struggles of Having ADHD

- Only Being able to sleep either 2 hours or 16, there’s no in between. I am legit typing this at 3:02 am because I can’t sleep and I haven’t slept that much and it sucks. Summer is for sleeping, not for stress.

- Not being able to remember basic information about someone like their name, but being able to remember that they once told you that their great great aunt had a mole on her foot the shape of Texas. True story btw, sorry Amber.

- Feeling like your being rejected if your friend can’t make it to hang out with you because of family reasons. RSD is a bitch. Like the tiniest thing can make you feel rejected. Ie, your mom telling you not to be so loud, someone asking why your sneezes are so loud, someone asking you to return their pen, etc.

- Having your medication ware off/forgetting to take it and being the most annoying bitch in the galaxy. I once went on a school trip and my meds wore off and I ended up spending the 2 hour bus ride back annoying the guy who was trying to sleep in front of me, again, I am so sorry Max.

- IDK if it’s just me but, chewing on literally everything. Bottle caps, paper, fabric, rubber (my favorite), and much more. I used to get punished all the time for chewing on things I wasn’t supposed to. Nail biting is also a big thing. And so is hair chewing.

- Being told “You’re too smart to have ADHD”. Well Susan, I have a neurological devolpmental disorder, I’m not retarded.

- Either giving too much information or not enough when in conversation, and also bringing up really irrelevant things in the conversation like, I know we’re talking about the Louisiana Perchance but can I tell you about this one time it rained and I saw a snail?

- Being botherd by loud and/or repetitive noises. Pen clicking and high pitched sirens make me want to scream. They suckkk harder then Travis wants to suck Sal’s dick. And the worse is when people think you’re weird or that you have a problem with them for asking. I understand you like to click your pen and I’m so sorry it’s just so loud...

- Being afraid of your friends rejecting you. Again, RSD is a bitch. Like you’re afraid that one day your bestie will get up and leave and never come back and it’s all your fault and you suck and ughhhhhh. You’re also afraid their s/o / parents hate you and one day they’ll convince them to just leave you.

- Medication is a godsend but it’s also problematic. The stuff that I take fucks up my sleep schedule, my appetite, and make me tired and nauseous. It also gives me headaches and belly aches :(

- Either being so hungry that you also eat everything in your fridge or being so not hungry that even the concept of food disgust you. And sometimes, you even throw up because food is so gross and you’re gross and all that gross is inside you and eww.

- Intense, powerful migraines. They get worse in the winter months. Last year I took almost a week off of school because my migraines got worse and worse and worse and I couldn’t do it.

- Having no measurement of personal space or how to physically interact with someone. I just said hi, do I hug you, do I high five you, idk? Like idk how many potential friendships I’ve fucked up because I was too handsey.

- Being really particular about the type of clothing I wear. I love LOVE long sleeve shirts/ sweatshirts/ sweaters/ hoodies and shorts. I also love to wear socks around the house. I hate HATE wearing socks with shoes though, it makes me anxious. I also hate wearing certain types of pants. I literally only have 2 - 3 pairs of pants I’ll wear because pants sometimes feel like a tent and I hate that.

- Not being able to loose weight. I’m not fat, or chubby, I mean I have abs for God’s sake! It’s just that I have thick ass thigh I h a t e and I wish I could just get rid of them but my medication prevents me from loosing all that weight. On the bright side, I can eat a lot and not gain weight either.

- Having certain little routines you can’t skip. For example, every morning I must shave my legs and brush my hair or the world will end. I also must have all the doors and windows closed or else I’m gonna scream.

- Also idk if this is a problem for anyone else but doors and windows being open. I can’t stand it, I mean please, I don’t care that you’re just coming up for 1 thing but p l e a s e for the love of g o d, close the door that leads to upstairs. Having it open just isn’t right.

- Hyperfixiating on something for soo long that you forget to do basic hygiene like shower, use the bathroom, brush your hair, brush your teeth. It can get you in really big trouble but at least the job is done.

- Having a comfort item. Like I have this stuffed lamb whose name is “Lambchop” but I call “Lambie” and I sleep with them each and every night and carry them around the house with me when I’m home and if I’m upset I NEED to cuddle them bacuse it’s the only thing that will make the world go away.

- Being insanely good at certain academics and shitty at others. For example, when I was in 5th grade I was reading at an undergrad level and had the ability to understand science concepts a senior would be learning but my math was at the level of a second graders.

- Idk how to describe it but like, doing movements half way and the forgetting about them. Like this one time I was at a piano recital and I went to reach for something and forgot what I was reaching for so I just kinda held my hand up in a grabbing motion for half a song and then forgot about it until my mom reminded me to put it down.

- Not being able to understand that people don’t want to hear about your hyperfixiation. I’ve had 2 cases of this in my life, my “ghosts are definitely really and now this is my only personality triat” and my “I’m not a weeb but Tokyo Ghoul is so good now let me tell you all about the plot.” (Tokyo Ghoul gang REPRESENT)

- Having 3 different moods, hyperactive, normal, and cold. Like you’re normal most of the time but sometimes you’re sooo hyper that your an entirely different person, or sometimes you’re sooo distant you’re a different person too.

- Not being able to identify your emotions very well. Like, this guy just told me that my dad and my bestie are asshole who deserve to die in a fire, what am I feeling? Am I sad? Angry? Scared? Do I think this is funny? Am I gonna laugh? Cry? Idk, throw hands? Or the dreaded crush. Do I have feelings for this person or do I just want to be really good friends? Do I hate them? Love them? Am I gonna cry the next time I see them? Last time we hung out was fun but idk???

- Also like I mentioned, romance/sexuality is hard. Last time I dated I dated this guy I really liked, or at least I thought I did. We dated for three months before I blew it off because he asked to put his arm around me and it was weird when I said yes. Also sexuality. Idk if this is a problem for anyone else or just my bisexual ass. Like it’s so hard and I really like guys but hey, girls are hot. And like I like guys more than girls?? Sometime it makes me feel really fake.

- Really enhanced weird hearing. I know at least 80% of my classes drama because I have superhearing and I’m a literal hearing god bow down, bitch. I can hear the smallest of sounds and such, but for some goddamn reason I can’t understand how loud I’m being.

- Extestensial nihilism and just being cool about it. Like, dude, idk if there’s a god out there? I’d like to think there’s some sort of Devine power and we have a purpose but idk, we probably don’t have a purpose. I mean, we’ll be forgotten after we die anyway unless we’re Tom Holland. And love probably doesn’t exist either and it’s only stigmatized by movies and books and media and we’re all gonna get married and be miserable for ever and such. But like does it really even matter? In the end we’re all alone so go off I guess.

- Being really sensitive to smell. Certain smells drive me through the roof. For example, I have an extreme fish allergy and even smelling the slightest hint a salmon can give me a migraine so intense I think I’m dying. Or essential oils. Ughh I hate those. They send me through the roof.

- Being able to remember something you heard in a YouTube video you watched back when you were nine but not being able to remember when you birthday is some days because it really be like that.

- Being really good with little kids. Idk if everyone is like this but I am very childish myself and little kids love me. I have at least 3 little boys in 1st - 3rd grade who think I’m their girlfriend and 8 little girls in kindergarten - 5th grade who think I’m their big sister, it’s really sweet.

- Always apologizing is a big thing for me. When I was a child I used to get in trouble for saying sorry when I did anything and that carried to teen hood. Last year at my dance class my teacher noticed this and tried to help me break my habit god bless you Christine.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk bois. ADHD sucks but I know you can do it👌🏻

[oh-theatre]

Sycamore High: Highs and Lows of the Midnight Stars  (Chapter 16)

A/N: I know its a short chapter but a very important one, Also I'm sorry that it's just four characters but I hope you still enjoy

summary: Ted and Tommys happy moment falls away as Henry and Chad have some unfortunate news to deliver

words: 1,676

warnings: Mention of death

Ao3 Link

Ted was extremely happy he couldn't sleep when his phone exploded with buzz. Being sent to bed 3 hours earlier by 2 very concerned professors, he was still unable to sleep. Many thoughts about the previous day had been racing through his mind, many occupied by a certain hot-chocolate loving nerd. Which would immediately send a knot of guilt when Bill crossed his mind. 

You can not be happy right now

Your friend is suffering

Bzzt

Ted bounces up grabbing his phone off of the guest bedroom nightstand rubbing his eyes that had been adjusted to the dark.

Hot Choco: Hey! 

The knot in his stomach slowly disappeared seeing the one-word text. He quickly opened his phone ready to text back. 

SB: Yo… What’s up?

HC: OH! You responded quickly, shouldn't you be sleeping?

SB: Shouldn't you?

HC: Touche dear, touche

Ted freezes at the nickname. They hadn't discussed anything after their...session. Having been interrupted by nervous texts from multiple friends and hadn't had time to talk about anything. Ted was sure he was taking too long to respond and he was sure it had meant nothing but the little word sets off a wonderful flutter in his chest. 

HC: Ted, you still there?

He looks down at his phone he was now holding to his chest and quickly typed. 

SB: Yeah sorry, just had a moment. 

HC: Sorry about… the whole ‘dear’ thing. 

He's apologizing? Ted thinks, he shakes his head absolutely enamored with the be-speckled boy on the other line. He swoons, yes swoons, and replies quickly.

SB: No no! It's ok! We just haven't had time to...discuss anything I guess. 

HC: Do you want to?

Ted thought for a moment, did he? Or did he want to forget everything, or-

SB: Yes...yes absolutely

~~~

“I found her” Henry whispers carefully closing the bedroom door after checking in on Ted for the fifth time. Chad sits up immediately ushering for his husband to come sit next to him on the bed. Henry slugs over feeling exhausted and curls up into his husband's arms. Chad strokes his head lovingly planting little kisses on his head.

“What is it, love?” Chad coos, still comforting the tired man. 

“Ted's mother” Henry says “I talked to the police and they called today. They found him” Henry explains, his voice falters a bit with each word. Chad furrows his brows but encourages him to continue. “Its… It's not good” He chokes back a hot. Chad sits up concerned, wiping away incoming tears forming in Henry’s eyes.

“Love?” Chad asks “What happened?” 

~~~

“Tommy?” Ted calls out feeling absolutely crazy. He wanders a little further into the park finally sitting down on a bench near a low hanging tree. He fidgets nervously constantly checking his phone when suddenly his vision goes blind he panics pushing the two hands off of himself. 

“Woah!” Tommy yelps startling back. Ted heaves relieved turning angrily towards Tommy, who simply smiles innocently and wraps his arms around Ted's neck. Ted tenses quickly but slowly melt into the embrace feeling a lot safer. “Hey, you” He whispers sweetly into Ted's ears. Ted feels an exciting shiver down his spine. 

“H...h-hi” He manages hearing Tommy giggle in response. He removes his arms much to Ted's disappointment and makes his way around the bench to sit next to Ted. He sits cross-legged on the bench and stares intently at Ted. Ted stares back almost lost in the shining boy's eyes. He clears his throat and sits up straighter. “So...um... I..” He tries. Tommy places a comforting hand on Teds. 

“Why don't I start?” Tommy offers, Ted nods “I like you. Like a lot” Tommy smiles sweetly, Ted feels his heart melt. “I don't know how you feel, but if the kiss was any indication, I think you might like me back but I'm not sure” Tommy teases releasing a chuckle from Ted. “But I also know you're going through a lot right now…” He continues, Ted nods. He is, and he had the same concerns about...starting anything right now. “So...I understand if you're not ready. And I'm more than willing-”

“I've never done this before” Ted interjects. Tommy tilts his head confused “Been in a relationship, like a serious one.” Ted explains Tommy nods willing to listen. “And I do like you, but I just...I don't wanna mess anything up” Tommy flushes light dust of pink. 

“Well, you won't know if you don't try” Tommy shrugs hopeful “But Ted… it's up to you” Ted contemplates this for a moment gazing at the encouraging smile Tommy gives him. He thinks back on everything that has happened. The one constant had been Tommy, the kind stranger willing to give him a chance. An unexpected friend and possibly more. A boy so willing to give Ted whatever he needs. Ted stares at Tommy's eyes, the eyes he had seen so many times before. Beautiful, inquisitive brown eyes hidden behind wide glasses. Full of love and absolute excitement. He pushes himself forward meeting Tommy's lip kissing him gently, yet full of passion. Tommy buzzes and immediately returns the gesture cupping Ted's face. They pull away after a longing moment, desperate for air. They stare sweetly into each other's eyes.

“So that's a no?” Tommy jokes, Ted nudges him joining into his sweet laughter. 

“No...that's a yes” Ted says adding quickly “If you want to” Tommy practically jumps up nodding. Ted stands up wearily watching the animated boy lovingly. He grabs him gently calming him down. He pulls him into a hug feeling Tommy embracing him instantly. The moment is pure and everything Ted wants right now. Everything he needs, nothing could ruin the sweet moment held between two young boys under the moonlight. 

“Ted Michael Porker!” The boys jump apart at the call of Ted's full name. He turns toward the source of the noise, his eyes grow wide staring at two very angry professors. He backs up instinctively scared their anger would turn to punishment, Tommy places a protective border between him and the men. The men sigh resigned and approach calmly. Chad approaches first holding up his hands in a surrendering manner. 

“Ted? Kiddo? I'm sorry we didn't mean to startle you…” Chad speaks steadily, his voice softening “We were just very worried when you weren't in your bed” Ted quivers clutching onto the back of Tommy's shirt who places a comforting hand on him. 

“P-p-please dont hu-hurt me” Ted stutters all of his thoughts and control falling away as he feels himself resolve back into a scared little boy. 

“Oh god… Ted no... no never” Henry speaks now, the anger in his voice falling away. He approaches in the same manner as Chad “Ted we would never hurt you. We were just worried” He insists, Ted remains in his position still scared. Tommy turns to Ted holding him gently. He pushes the hair out of his eyes and strokes the tears away from his eyes. 

“They aren't going to hurt you, dear” Tommy assures keeping his eyes on Ted. Ted tries to speak but fails as his emotions crumble around him “I promise, they were just worried.” Ted nods and the pair turn to the ever-patient men. “We are very sorry professors, Ted and I shouldn't have snuck out” He apologizes, the men nod and approach calmly. 

“Thank you, we were just worried” Chad remains calm. Ted takes a deep breath and walks towards them standing a little straighter. Chad stays where he is, allowing Ted the first move. 

“I-im sorry” He sniffles “It won't happen again” Chad and Henry share an amusing look before letting out light chuckles.

“Ok…” Henry pauses “It better not mister” He teases lightening the mood. Ted joins in, followed by Tommy. “Ted we need to talk to you though” Henry admits reserving a serious tone now. Ted grabs Tommy's hand who quickly interlaces his fingers with Ted. “Its��” Henry looks to Chad, who nods “It's about your mother, Ted”

~~~

“Are you sure you want me to stay?” Tommy whispers to Ted as they sit on the couch in the apartment. Ted fidgets nervously waiting for the promised tea and the return of the professors. He turns dazed to Tommy taking his hands.

“Mmhm” He admits, Tommy nods squeezing his hands encouragingly. 

“Ok...ok” Tommy says as the professors return handing the boys some tea, they take it graciously. The two men and Tommy stare as Ted's cup shakes violently in his hands, he notices and quickly places it on the coffee table scared he would break it. Tommy assures him silently before they turn to the men. 

“We talked to the police and they finally got back to us” Henry begins, Ted nods listening intently. “They said… that they found your mother-” Ted jumps up relieved.

“They did?”

“Ted-” Henry tries

“When can I see her?”

“Ted-” Chad stands

“Where is she?”

“Ted” Both men say firmly 

“Is she ok?”

“Ted!” Tommy shouts taking the hyper boy in his arms facing him. Ted blinks before looking around.

“Sorry” He whispers “Sorry… I got excited” Tommy nods understandingly and sits them both down. They turn back to the professors.  “So… where is she?” Ted asks calmer this time. The professors share an uneasy look leaving an anxious feeling his stomach. 

“Ted…” Chad starts, Ted inhales a sharp breath

“Where is she?” he demands shakily. 

“Ted I am so sorry…” Chad feels himself lose control, Henry grabs his hand squeezing it. 

“No...” Ted cries softly, Tommy mimics Henry's gesture to Ted, a horrified look in his eyes. Ted turns to Tommy shaking his head in disbelief “No…” His voice weak and hollow. 

“Ted your mom…” Henry tries. Ted shoots his head over to Henry glaring

“Don't say it” He demands firmly “Just...dont” 

“She's dead… Ted I'm-” Ted stands shaking, he storms away into the hall. The three men jump at the sound of a door slamming. Hearing a loud sob choked back, the night slips away.

[okimargarvez]

SHE IS PERFECT FOR HIM

Original title: Lei è perfetta per lui.

Prompt: Spencer and Lila are getting married; handbook for shippers.

Warning: mention of various kind of TV-series.

Genre: comedy, humor, romantic, friendship.

Characters: Penelope Garcia, Luke Alvez, O.C.

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot 33 in Garvez collection.

Legend: 💏😘🎈.

Song mentioned: L’amore e basta, Tiziano Ferro.

GARVEZ STORIES

I mentioned many of my ships from various series: jelinda (Jim Clancy and Melinda Gordon, Ghost whisperer) ; Elliot and JD (Scrubs) ; Ted Mosby and Robin Scherbatsky (How I met your mother); Tate (Caitlin Todd and Anthony Dinozzo, NCIS) ; Jack and Amanda (Diagnosis Murderer) ; Danny Messer and Lindsay Monroe (CSI New York) ; Semir Gerkhan and Andrea Gerkhan (Alarm für Cobra 11 – Die Autobahnpolizei).

This story is dedicated to @thinitta cause it's just one way to say something I think I don't say to her yet: I love you, we are like a sisters even if we live so far... And I love our crazy conversations XD

SHE IS PERFECT FOR HIM

Luke Alvez didn’t know he was so sentimental before he saw Penelope, sitting in the church next to him, crying during a colleague's wedding. Yet, a song doesn’t stop turning in the head, even after, during the reception, especially when, with great joy, he ends up again next to the blonde IT, sitting right in front of him.

I change, perhaps, always nice, no, nice for me, that I see you always nice that I feel like dying. Even if you close the doors in front of me, sometimes, even if I’m alone and far away, sometimes, and when I am in the hotel, I’m less mine and more of the fate, and write it in a terrible letter, but if you carry a cross, don’t keep it in silence in the soul, love, shout it out loud!

He has eyes just for her, the whole table realizes it. He already feels lucky like that, a whole day without unsub to chase, so long time to admire her. But she, as always, ignores him, talks to JJ about the marriage of the latter and a missed one, hers. And while he feels jealousy rise, towards a stranger who has had the ardor of asking Penelope's hand, something falls on his shoulder. He raises his head and understands instantly.

-Well, they say: wet bride is a lucky bride!- someone exclaims, while some women scream, complaining about the hairstyle cost hours and money. Luke has always loved the rain and today his level of worship goes up considerably. The hotel where the reception is held obviously had foreseen this eventuality, in fact the tables are ready inside, in a decidedly less suggestive, but dry environment. Even these with the seats assigned and not exchangeable. He and Penelope, jubilation, end up with a group of strangers, or rather unknown. The bride's friends and bridesmaids.

-Excuse me.- Penelope draws the attention of a waiter. -There must be a mistake. We... I should be with the groom's friends.- the young man looks displeased.

-I'm desolate, miss, but these are the procedures. Take this opportunity to make new friends.- and he goes away. He never thought that Garcia had these problems, indeed, the opposite, but today she seems so lost in her thoughts. In the end she surrenders, sits down next to him and sighs.

-Well, it seems that fate wants to keep us close.- Luke says, not very loud, pouring himself a drink. Then he asks her if she wants the same, and she shrugs, holding out her glass. Their fingers touch each other.

-Yeah, Newbie, I bet you did it raining, on purpose.- he chuckles, glad that she wants to play in this way. It is definitely a beautiful day.

-Yes, uh, it happens that I have a friend in the meteorological institute...- it's not even a complete lie. He approaches slightly, winking at her and the blonde can’t help but smile, shaking her head.

-Hey, it looks like you've impressed someone.- she whispers softly, causing shivers down his back with her hot breath. They look at each other, he with a confused expression. -Do you see that beautiful brunette, on the other side of the table? Since we've arrived, she's just staring you.- Luke raises his head to check and she stops him. -Stupid, she could see you!- their mouths are only a few centimeters apart and for a moment he loses control. Then Penelope lets him go and returns to a normal position.

-Too bad that I prefer blondes.- he comments shamelessly flirtatious.

-Ha ha, very funny. Instead you look exactly the kind of man who likes brunette, Latin, slender, tiny, in short...- she gets stuck, because she ended up on rough terrain. He laughs openly.

-Brunette, Latin...? That is a feminine version of me. So boring.- the waiters pass to collect the dishes with the leftovers of the appetizer. It will be a long day. -No, I repeat, I’m attracted more to blondes. Light hair, fair skin...- he passes the tongue on the lips. -Better yet, if she wears glasses.- he dared too much and in response receives a weak fist on the arm.

-The more time passes and the more you become stupid, Alvez.- but at the same time Penelope keeps an eye on the brunette who keeps looking at them.

-It's the effect you're doing to me.- she seems to be back in time and there's Morgan beside her, not Luke. She misses to flirting with a man, but she doesn’t flirt with him, never, it's too... dangerous. She looks up at the sky. Without stopping to stare her, the man tries to grab the glass, but he clashes right with... that brunette. Penelope doubts that she took the opportunity to find an excuse to start talking. -Oh, sorry .- Luke is forced to turn around.

-Don’t worry, it was my fault, I'm so clumsy...- yes, she's definitely right, the woman did it on purpose. Penelope finds herself annoyed, but believes it is due to her feminine pride. She would never falling in down to impress a man. Luke smiles politely at the chick. -You're a federal, are not you? I think I saw you on TV.- he nods, shrugging his shoulders modestly.

-I could say the same thing. I'm Luke, nice to meet you. And she is Penelope, the best computer technician in the world.- uh, definitely exaggerated. The blonde is stunned by this presentation, especially because the last time he had said to her a compliment like that, it was a mockery. She merely smiles and shakes her hand.

-But sure, you both work for the unit of behavioral analysis with Spencer!- apparently they are more famous than they thought. -And... if I can ask, sorry but I work for a tabloid newspaper... professional deformation... how long have you been together, you two? There would be perfect to write an article on the changes in recent years within the federal regulation against fraternization at work.- Penelope, who was drinking, almost chokes, while a smile on the face of Luke is painted. However, she talks first.

-No, we're not engaged, we're just colleagues. Just colleagues.- any psychologist could tell him that repetition is certainly a sign of nervousness, present when trying to tell a lie. And Garcia has never been good at lying, as far as he knows. In addition, she seems decidedly blushing.

-Ah, weird. I could have sworn that...- even the brunette who, according to Penelope was interested in him, remains confused. Before she can restrain him, Luke decides to say his own.

-Well, it's actually she who thinks so, but I'm not satisfied to be just his "colleague".- he says the last word in a strange way. -And I don’t give up. She's about to go down, I feel it.- the blonde's protest is slowed by the arrival of the first plate. Spencer have been very attentive and warned all staff that she was a vegetarian. What she doesn’t understand is why the waiter served the same dish also to Alvez. He understands where her gaze fell. -I didn’t want you to feel alone...- he whispers softly, and the tone seems very serious. Penelope swallows and chooses to ignore it.

-Wow, guys, you'd be perfect for a TV series. There is so much feeling between you two. One shot and we would already have a million shippers, I'm sure.- the IT decides to change the subject.

-Do you know who is the best ship ever? Melinda and Jim. Ghost whisperer. Fabulous. They have shown that there is no need for the typical tension of the "before they get together" phase to drive fans all over the world crazy. When he dies, he refuses to leave her and enters that body and forgets her, but he is still pushed towards her... and then when he finally remembers... I have consumed a box of tissues, and if I accidentally turn on the TV and there is that scene, it's the same thing, always.- Penelope talks in one of her passionate monologues. He loves to listen to her, because every time he discovers something new that concerns her. In this case, the thought of her that looks at such shows and is moved doesn’t surprise him. He had imagined it exactly like that.

-You are right, it's one of the best ships that exist. Then Jennifer Love Hewitt is a great actress, very beautiful, without falling into the vulgar, intense... however, I'm so stupid, I realized I hadn’t introduce myself yet. I'm Clara, one of the bride's bridesmaids.- Penelope has definitely changed her mind about the brunette and now they're both immersed in sharing ships, one of the quickest methods in the current millennium to make friends instantly. If you share my ship, then I could even fall in love with you.

-And in your opinion? What is the couple that made you suffer more and that was successful?- Luke has been transformed from an object of desire to an uncomfortable third wheel, and is not sure that it displeases him.

-Elliot and JD, definitely.- seeing the confused expression of Penelope, she opens her mouth. -Don’t tell me you never watching Scrubs!- the other hurries to deny. -Oh, you scared me. It was a continuous back and forth, but even when they were separated... it was as if they were together anyway. And in the end, they got married. Better than that, it could not have ended.- both women utter dreamy sighs. -Now it's your turn.- of them three, Luke is the only one who is eating.

-Ok, I'm a bit ashamed, but... Ted and Robin.- no need to specify which series it is, he even understood it. -I think that producers and screenwriters have found a good idea, that of a father who tells his children how he met their mother and ends up putting in everything about the period of his youth... I do it for anything, talk nonsense, I mean, as at this moment.- they laugh in an accomplice way. -But in the meantime they needed something to move it all, and although the ship between Lily and Marshall is great...- spoiler alarm. -...it is still the canonical ship and it needed a more... messed up. But they have definitely exaggerated, creating the story of Ted and Robin. The French horn was the pinnacle, but there is so much to tell you...- Clara nods, but doesn’t seem entirely agree.

-I have a confession to make, that I fear will break your heart.- even if she is a journalist, it could very well be an actress like Lila. She takes Penelope's hand in hers. -I went on the dark side...- the blonde opens her eyes and nods her head. -Yes, I'm sorry... but I prefer Robin and Barney.- it can be true friendship only if you are able to overcome the diversity of opinions on one of your favorite couples. Penelope nods, not letting go.

-Yes, well, I find them nice too. It is difficult to choose, I think the producers have just done a bullshit, with this double possibility. But after all, their goal is only to have ratings, that people look at it so as to continue to obtain financing.- the sad reality behind every alleged work of art. Sad and resigned sighs.

-But let's move on to really important things. Do you love more the couples who are already canon, engaged, married, like Jim and Melinda, or those of which we see the slow development?- oh yes, it is these, the fundamental things of life. But he is curious to discover Penelope's answer.

The woman seems to think about it. -It's a difficult question, I love both possibilities. Perhaps, but... more the second. I believe that, even in real life, the phase in which everything is in the balance, in short, it is clear that two people are going in one direction but there is still uncertainty, every moment is full of possibilities... is the best. Like the moments before the first kiss...- Luke manages to attract his attention brushing her arm. -What's there?- for a thousandth of a second they look into each other's eyes and only they exist, as pure spirit.

-Nothing, I wanted to know if the ladies liked to drink.- he also winks at Clara, who is quick to hand over her glass. Penelope nods her head. But is it just a casual gesture, or should he read more behind it?

-Anyway I agree, those are among the best moments, even if I always find myself shouting at the television as it is possible that someone is so naive as to not understand when the person he is in love with, feels the same.- the blonde doesn’t notices it, but Clara launches a decidedly explicit look at Luke, and certainly not to flirting with him. The man tightens his lips and raises his eyebrows, as if to say that he no longer knows what to do. -And how kind of dynamic? Friends or enemies? Or, let's not forget, there is also the "first in bed and then exchange of names" version. Usually these are the couples that last longer.- she laughs, while Penelope blushes.

-Uh, I'm a bit bad, but I love when the man is clearly the more taken and she, although not fully aware of it, for some reason decides to keep him at a distance and treat him a bit bad... I don’t know, I think it is guilt of my feminism.- Luke chokes with a mouthful and is forced to drink again. He swaps another look with Clara.

-Give me an example.. it is now clear that the journalist has decided to give him a hand, even if she doesn’t know why. Perhaps she got slightly carried way by this story of the ship.

-Well, Kate and Tony. Although there the situation was fairly balanced, but between the two, in the end, he was the more taken. When Kate died, I stopped looking at NCSI.- a thoughtful pause. -Jack and Amanda. Diagnosis Murder. It's an old series, but, hell, I rewatched an episode by mistake last week and... I realized I was shipping them even more than in the past. Unfortunately, between them there was been only a kiss...- Penelope hasn’t quite understood that she is ending in a trap. As the protagonist of any self-respecting fanfiction, she is naive and unaware.

-Yes, I remember, when Jack saves her life, one of many times.- the blonde nods with emphasis. -But don’t you think that their relational dynamics could be described as that between brother and sister? I don’t know about you, but I grew up with two older brothers and they treated me that way, but they weren’t in love with me, I assure you.- Clara has launched the supreme challenge. She has to demonstrate that her ship contains the motivations to become canon.

And the IT certainly doesn’t hold back. She positions herself better on the chair, waits for the waiters to pass with the second plate, and starts to talking, as a lawyer who exposes his plea in court. -I have three brothers, no, it's not their case. These are imperceptible things, because after all it is not a comedy, but an old-fashioned crime, so relationships develop in the margins, as a boundary and are often used to create hilarious situations. But if we go to see the nuances well, Jack is clearly jealous of Amanda, like in that episode with the doctor who finally flirt with her friend in front of her and it turns out that he was also the killer...- Clara nods, looks a second to Luke, almost winks and then returns to focus on Penelope.

-Yes, that Jack is interested in Amanda is also clear to me. But to be together, they must both be involved. And you say that from the way she behaves with him, that is, because she treats him badly, it's clear that Amanda also feels something for him. I say wrong?- well, Phil will not be offended to share the rule of his best man with Clara. If this is successful, it is the least he can do to thank her.

Luke turns directly to look at her, but Penelope doesn’t notice, so taken by the defense of her ship. -No, that's right. Because... after all, to treat badly, to keep at a distance, they are all defense techniques. The same thing happens between Danny and Linsday. At the beginning they can’t stand each other, they have to argue on any occasion, they prick each other and then... they even end up having two children. I think it's the crime couple with the most consistent dynamic, as Andrea and Semir of Cobra 11 Special Team for the action series.- Clara nods, then, after a few seconds, she stands up.

-Sorry, I... I'm going to the toilet for a moment.- she winks at Luke, who returns her.

Penelope turns to him. -Well, I was right. It seems that something is being born on this table. You'll have to thank your meteorologist friend...- the man smiles, but then realizes that she has clearly misunderstood.

-What are you saying?- meanwhile the time continues to flow, inexorable.

-You and Clara! Hey, I saw that you looked at each other all the time. When she comes back, I'll go to the bathroom, so that you can...- he silences her with three moves at the same time. Leaning forward, bring his face close to that of the woman; he puts a finger on her lips; with his other hand he grabs her arm.

-But what…? No, Garcia, you didn’t understand anything. I don’t care Clara, I told you, she's not my type. You see too many TV series and you can’t help shipping, even in the real world.- it sounds a bit too much as a reproach. She looks at the amber fingers around her arm. -Really, don’t you get it, Penelope? Even Clara noticed it, that’s the reason why we looked at each other while you are talking about couples and relationship dynamics and those things. Why can’t you apply the same parameters to yourself?- he lets her go and she starts breathing again. She can’t think, is confused.

-To myself?- she asks, with a little voice as a child.

-Yes, to yourself. Why the way Amanda treats Jack should be symptomatic of her interest, and the same behavior, yours with me, is not it?- again, she's out of breath, swallows, turns her head. Her body implements every possible defense to prevent that thought from making its way into her mind. -Why did you keep me at a distance before you even met me? And you call me Newbie?- too many questions, she feels like she's being accused, on the stand.

-I... you know. I told you, you took Morgan place, who was my best friend. I promised myself that I would hate anyone who replaced Derek, so it has nothing to do with you. You're not special.- she at least manages to convince herself.

-No, it's not just this. You were jealous of Roxy, when you thought she was my girlfriend. And you can’t hate people, Penelope.- damned all the profilers of the universe. -Do you say that you really don’t feel anything for me? That you don’t even like me a little?- he looks straight into her eyes, as he asks her, he doesn’t even know with what courage. Despair, of course. Clara will be take time on purpose to give them time to conclude.

-Uh, Luke...- signs of surrender: she has used his name; dilated pupils. -No, you're not my type. Surely many women think differently, that you're an attractive man, and there's nothing strange, because it's true.- she got messed up by herself. This time nobody will come to the rescue. -I mean, it's an objective fact, like... like... something that I can’t remember of right now.- she blushes to the tips of the ears and he swears that she's also sweating. -But the physical aspect is not enough, you know?- why she persists to treat him as if he were a superficial playboy?

-I know.- he blames the blow well, after all. -I told you, in fact, that as well as blonde, with clear skin, glasses, the girl I like also has a huge heart, is sweet, playful, and an absolute genius?- maybe white wine that Luke is sipping it was been altered by some substance or he doesn’t hold alcohol at all. It is the only explanation.

-Listen, Luke, I also love flirting and play this game, but sometimes less is more.- she makes clear, while in the distance sees Clara come.

-But it was never a game for me.- he tries to take her hand and sees her wavering.

-No?- before he can answer, the brunette sits, apologizing with her eyes.

-I couldn’t really miss the dessert.-

And... and I’m the only one who knows every answer, and I will not change with the passing time, and while I lose myself thinking about just love... and you remember that this is what I’m, and I challenge life always with my head down, because I care about just love... and I’m the only one who knows every memory, and for me you're not the first thing to come along, because for me you're just love... and I’m the only one who know my mistakes, even if there is still a trace left, in front of everyone for you I’m just your love...

 The wedding is over, the couple have flown off for their honeymoon and everyone is slowly moving towards their respective destinations. Penelope doesn’t understand why Luke is still following her. -Hey, Newbie, the party is over, you can stop playing the part of the seducer, now.- if he was another type of man, would take her by the wrist and making her a turn that would catapult her in his arms. But, unfortunately, he is part of those who struggle to expose themselves with gestures of that kind, the opposite of macho.

-Play the part? Do you seriously think that I am like that? No, but you would like it. It would make things easier. But no. I'm the opposite of a seducer, and I'm not ashamed to tell you. I always thought it was better to be alone, don’t bind me, especially while I was at war. I'm not good with women, I don’t go to a romantic date since high school. I'm a complete landslide.- his words had the strength to stop her and force her to turn around. Luke performs in a sad smile.

-Why are you telling me all these things, Luke? Do you want to pity me? Do you need someone to vent your masculine instincts?- damn it, this woman would put a strain on anyone. -Because, I'm sorry, it's a tempting offer, I don’t deny, but...- he reaches her, shaking his head and sighing.

-Fuck, Garcia, do you think I just want to fuck with someone? Getting that would definitely be easier than a hug from you. We've known each other for two years, and the only kind words you've addressed to me have actually been directed to my dog. You don’t want to give me even a miserable chance.- she has never seen him so much altered, not with her, over all. Penelope trembles, but the fear of getting hurt is stronger than everything else.

-Chance for what, make me believe you're crazy in love with me and then make fun of me? You're not the only one who's been dry for quite a while. I'm better alone.- finally the truth. -It's just because I treated you badly, if you're so attached to me, don’t you realize? If only I...- Luke shakes his head and slowly lays his hands on her shoulders, then down the arms.

-No, it's not just for the chase, it's that I'm fine when I'm with you. I can’t hold back the smiles. And I feel like one of the protagonists of your TV series. And if you want to know, we already have a fan club. And a ship name.- Penelope opens her eyes and mouth. -All the team, but not only.- he answers to her mute questions. -People from O'Keef, Phil, even your Morgan. And Clara.- she doesn’t reply anything. -Garvez, the name is Garvez. Garcia and Alvez. It's not bad, what do you think? It’s by JJ.- of whom others, she had been the founding partner of the ship.

To get out of the quagmire, Penelope finds herself saying the first bullshit that goes through her head. -Lila is perfect for Spencer, because she will never ask him to stop loving Maeve.- Luke is so surprised to let her go. The mouth bent in his typical crooked grimace.

-You are right, she is perfect for him because she can understand and make him happy, even if they are completely different or maybe because of this. But what does it really mean what you said? That your first love is dead, or that you will never look at me in the way you look at Morgan?- the woman understands that he has no intention of surrendering. She sighs, bites her lips and returns to look at him.

-Of course, I'll never look at you as Morgan, you're not him. You're another person.- a calm, resigned tone. In the air around them it is possible to see the formation of the written canon in the sky, in cloud’s shape.

-And this is good or bad, for you?- it can’t just be a fixation, it can’t be just for the thrill of hunting, it can’t be just to take her to bed, it can’t be a sophisticated revenge. Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.

-I don't know.- she shrugs and he takes her face in his hands. -I can’t risk, do you understand? Because it was so damn taken for granted that I would have a crush on the new one, everyone was expecting it and I hate the obvious things, I hate them to death...- maybe when the man's soft lips press on hers, she changes her mind. A delicate kiss, trembling, at the same time intense. And in those few minutes a real process takes place in Penelope's mind. The defense attorney is herself, the only one to say no, she's not feeling anything because Luke is indifferent to her. Luke is the lawyer, that is the banality. The witnesses at the stand are all their friends and even some strangers. The jury is the heart of Penelope and the judge, who issues the sentence, the one who has the last word... is her head.

The blonde suddenly pulls off and looks at him. Luke thinks he messed things up, but it would still be worth it. Both the mind and the heart are repeating the same thing: you are perfect for him and he is perfect for you. Nothing else matters.

The bang of the gavel. The verdict is: guilty.

TAGS: @theshamelessmanatee  @arses21434 @kathy5654 @martinab26 @reidskitty13 @jenf42 @gracieeelizabeth27 @silviajajaja @smalliemichelle99 @charchampagne14 @thinitta   @myhollyhanna23 @garvezz @mercedes-maldonado  @shyladystudentfan @cosmicmelaninflower

[peter-parkouuuur]

Chapter 9: Stark Party Part 1 (Spider-boy - Peter Parker x Stark!Reader)

I AM SO SORRY FOR POSTING THIS CHAPTER SUPER LATE! I watched Infinity War last week and it reminded that I have a story to finish! 

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13

A brief backgrounder: The story ended with Y/n helping Peter with his wounds after defeating the Vulture. Also, Y/n Stark’s birthday.

Enjoy! Don’t forget to hit like hihi! I’ll try to update earlier now! *Hopefully*

Good morning, Upper East Siders, here’s what you recently missed on Stark & The UES Society;

Upper West Sider Derick Thompson finally finds himself a girlfriend from Spence. The Collegiate boy has officially moved on from his Nightingale-Bamford sweetheart and decided to take on the girls from the Red Door. Who’s the lucky girl, D?

Spotted: Denise Martin-Blanchard arriving at the Stark Residences with the youngest Stark, Eloise. We hear the eldest Stark, Nico is also arriving for Y/n Stark’s special day.

We hear Lacrosse Captain, Teddy Vanderbilt is making a move on the Stark princess, Y/n and she is just as smitten. Will we be able to spot the golden couple at her birthday celebration at the Palm Court? We’ll have to see it for ourselves.

Y/n finds herself in the middle of a debate over brunch at the Stark penthouse, on her birthday. Tony Stark and her mother are once again at each other’s throats, discussing Y/n’s Stark internship and her mother’s worrisomeness of getting hurt in the process.

“Tony! I do not want my daughter to get caught up in this Avengers nonsense! Spare her from all the hero action. I just don’t want to see her get hurt.” Denise, Y/n’s mother, states.

“She’s not going to get hurt, Denise! She’s fine. Believe me when I say that I will do everything in my power to protect Y/n, even if it means giving up my life, damn it!” Tony admonishes.

“Dad, don’t say things like that.” Y/n grumbles, knowing that the last time Tony got involved with the Avengers, he had to fight Steve Rogers, a man he considered a friend.

“Honey, I love you more than words. You’re happy here in New York with me, right? Do you want to go back to France with your mom and that snooty new husband of hers?” Tony hisses.

“Watch your mouth, Tony.” Denise threatens.

“Make me!” Tony shouts.

“STOP IT!” Y/n stands up from her seat.

“I love you both.... well, I love dad more... but, enough! I like it here in New York and I don’t want to hear any more of this on my birthday. Now, the two of your work things out. In the meantime, Helena and I are going to take a walk in the park.” Y/n throws her dinner napkin on the table and storms out of the dining room.

Y/n: Here @ Central Park. U coming? x

Peter: Will (literally) swing by! Xx

Y/n: Alright! See you xx

Helena and Y/n are walking around Central Park when she hears someone call her name. Y/n turns around to see Ted Vanderbilt running towards her.

“Hi, Ted! What are you doing here?” Y/n asks.

“Well, I run around the park every morning on weekends. Happy Birthday by the way! What are you doing here as well?” Ted pulls his earphones off and walks beside Y/n and Helena.

“Thanks! And uhhh... My parents are having a row and I just wanted to get out before they both explode in anger.” Y/n answers.

“Oh yeah! Your mom lives in France, while you and your brother live here right? Your mom must be pretty lonely there in the city of lights with just her and her new husband.” Ted states.

Oh, she can handle herself just fine. It’s my little sister Eloise and my step-dad I’m worried about. They have to live with Cruela De Vil.” Y/n retorts.

Ted laughs at Y/n joke and y/n just giggles slightly.

“Care to share the joke?” Y/n hears Peter’s voice interrupt their brief laughter.

Y/n turns around to see Peter in his usual blue sweater, khaki pants, and Chuck Taylors.

“Peter! You’re here!” Y/n runs toward him before hugging him by the waist, ignoring Ted’s confused expression.

“Happy Birthday.” Peter whispers in y/n’s ear before giving her a kiss on the cheek.

‘Shit! Looks like I have no other choice but to finally introduce the two guys who currently vying for me. Although, everyone knows Peter is leading by a mile.’ Y/n thinks to herself.

“Oh, um... Peter, this is Ted Vanderbilt. Ted, this is Peter Parker.” Y/n introduces them to one another.

“Hi! Nice to meet you, man.” Peter puts his hand out and they shake hands awkwardly.

“Likewise... bro? Haven’t seen you before though. Which Ivy prep do you attend?” Ted inquires.

“Oh, I’m not from Manhattan. I go to Midtown High in Queens.” Peter answers.

“Peter actually works for my dad at Stark industries in his spare time. He’s a real tech geek.” Y/n adds.

“Nice! Well listen, I’d love to stay and chat but I have to run. I’ll see you at your party later?” Ted asks.

“Yeah of course! Bye Ted.” Y/n waves at Ted before he could jog away.

“He was.... nice.” Peter chuckles.

“He is nice. Too nice for my liking.” Y/n scrunches her nose in annoyance.

“Oh, so you prefer those bad boy types huh? I mean I don’t mean to brag, but Ned and I skipped school a couple of times.” Peter shrugs his shoulders.

“Let me guess, to build some kind of Star Wars lego action figure?” Y/n crosses her arms together.

“Damn. I shouldn’t have told you about our Star Wars addiction.” Peter curses.

“Miss Y/n, your father called and told me to bring you back to the penthouse.” Helena interrupts.

“But Peter just got here. 10 more minutes? Do you mind giving us a little private time?” Y/n asks her nanny.

“You want me to. leave you and Mr. Parker here while I head back to the penthouse?” Helena questions.

“Yes please.” Y/n pouts at her nanny.

Helena just smiles at Y/n and Peter before walking the other way.

Y/n intertwines her fingers with Peters and pulls him near a tree.

“Come on, Mr. Parker. You owe me a birthday kiss.” Y/n giggles, pushing Peter against a tree.

Peter smirks at Y/n eagerness before pressing his lips with hers. Peter wraps his arms around Y/n’s waist, her arms are wrapped around his neck as they kiss one another as if they haven’t seen each other in such a long time.

Peter pinches Y/n lightly by the waist, causing her to giggle, taking it as the go signal to stick his tongue in her mouth, their kisses getting more heated by the minute.

“I missed you this morning.” Y/n whispers against Peter’s lips.

“I’m sorry. I’m here now, aren’t I?” Peter pulls away and smiles at Y/n.

“Well then, you better continue making it up to me, Parker.” Y/n giggles before leaving kisses on the neck, lightly nipping across his throat, making way towards his earlobe, biting it slightly.

Peter, clearly new to the idea of making out with a girl (a girl he really likes), feels himself getting excited, he shuffles his body slightly.

Y/n feels herself getting more turned on by Peter’s awkwardness, being the first girl to make him feel this way. Y/n takes Peter’s hands and drags them slightly lower, just a few inches above her bum.

Peter feels more excited but then remembers that they are in public, well in a shaded area, but still in a public setting.

“You’re so cute, you know that?” Y/n pulls away from his neck and peppers kisses on his face.

“Way to ruin the mood, Stark.” Peter chuckles before kissing Y/n lightly on the lips again.

“I know our 10 minutes are up.” Y/n grumbles.

“You and Ned are going to be there right? The Palm Court at 8?” Y/n inquires.

“After you defiled me by this very tree, I have no choice but to go there.” Peter laughs.

“Good.” Y/n smiles up at him, lovingly.

“Come on, I better bring you back home, Miss Stark.” Peter holds Y/n hand and kisses her on the forehead.

THE PALM COURT, Plaza Hotel

The Palm Court is covered with Hawaiian pieces from flowers, to straw skirts, different colored shells, coconuts, pineapples, and everything else that one can relate to Hawaii. A Hawaiian band begins to play a smooth tune that settles the mood of the party.

Y/n is wearing a pastel yellow halter cocktail dress made by Denise Martin-Blanchard and a pale pink Ralph and Russo heels dipped in rose gold.

“I love what you’ve done to this place, Y/n. Totally feels like the Four Seasons Maui.” Eliza gasps, the moment she walks into the venue, followed by Tina and Maddie.

A staff offers the three of them Hawaiian leis around their necks.

“Don’t you just love it? It was actually my dad who suggested this theme.” Y/n states proudly.

The guests are mainly Y/n classmates from Spence, some of them are from the junior and senior class, friends from Nightingale-Bamford, Chapin & Dalton, some of Tony’s friends from work, and of course the whole Stark gang.

“Happy Birthday, beautiful.” Ted Vanderbilt wraps his arms around Y/n’s waist from behind, surprising her.

Eliza, Tina, and Maddie look at one another knowingly. Did they miss out on a gossip session or was this not planned?

“Hi, Ted! So glad you could make it.” Y/n smiles at the blonde hottie, her hands moving on top of his arms and slowly removes them from her waist.

‘This is the first time he’s ever hugged me like this. What’s his deal?’ Y/n thinks to herself.

 “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Ted beams at Y/n, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“I have a surprise for you.” Ted puts out a Tiffany & Co box.

Y/n’s friends gasp.

“Oh my god... Ted.” Y/n sighs.

Meanwhile.....

“This is the coolest party I have ever been to.” Ned looks around and sighs in amazement.

“Welcome! Here are your leis. Please wear them at all times.” A staff member approaches Peter and Ned with Hawaiian leis being put around their necks.

“Thanks.” Peter smiles at the lady before she can walk away to entertain the other guests.

“What did you buy Y/n anyway?” Ned asks, looking down at the brown paper bag Peter was carrying.

“Oh... I found this cute little jewelry shop right outside our apartment building, so I decided to buy her a charm bracelet... It’s not much, it only cost me around 75 dollars. I bet her friends bought her designer shoes or something.” Peter replies, realizing that his gift totally sucked.

“I’m sure she’ll like it,” Ned assures his best friend.

“Oh hey look! There she is.” Ned says excitedly.

Peter sees Y/n from where Ned is pointing at. Y/n looks shocked at what Ted was holding. Peter notices the blue box instantly.

“Of course he bought her a gift from Tiffany’s,” Peter grumbles.

“Hey, dude! I’m just gonna go and get myself a coconut drink. I’ll catch up with you later.” Ned tells Peter before he can even protest.

Peter feels himself sinking deeper and deeper into oblivion. He feels completely and utterly humiliated.

‘How can I compete with a Vanderbilt? I’m sure his TIffany’s gift cost a fortune and it wouldn’t even hurt his trust fund.’ Peter thinks to himself. 

Before he realizes what he’s doing, he finds himself running away from the party scene, walking out the double doors of the Plaza.

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

TAG LIST:

@capandbuck @multifandom-slytherin  @httpmcrvel

[wordsaremything]

To Sever

Summary: Andromeda Black makes the decision to leave her family forever when her parents find out she’s dating a Muggleborn.

1776 words

Diffindo: (charm) Severs an object into two pieces.

Andromeda was in the garden clipping flowers when her mother came to find her. She heard Druella’s shoes on the path before she saw her, but this did not work in the young woman’s favor. She turned and hardly had a second to recognize the furious look on her mother’s face before she was being dragged by her ponytail into the manor. The sheers clattered onto the concrete, crushing many of the blooms Andromeda had so lovingly chosen from the bush, but all that was forgotten among the ripping of her roots.

Druella didn’t say anything as she pulled her middle daughter into the kitchen and flung her with all her might to the floor. Andromeda put her elbows out just in time to catch herself before she smashed her nose against the stone. Eighteen years living in Black Manor, and her mother had never reacted to anything this way.

She gazed up through tearful eyes and Druella flung a sheet of parchment at her. “What is this about, Andromeda?” she demanded sharply, voice ringing so sharply every House Elf in the kitchen darted out the door and to different parts of the house.

Immediately Andromeda knew what happened. She would know the handwriting on the letter anywhere. Her mother had found a letter from Ted.

“Mother, it’s not–”

“Don’t lie to me!” she shrieked, and Andromeda cringed, “You’ve been having relations with a mudblood, haven’t you? Insolent, ungrateful little girl! Bellatrix has been worried about you for years, and your father just thinks you’re shy, you just wait until he hears about this–”

Bellatrix. How did she know? And she told their mother. Betrayal sparked through Andromeda’s chest, white and hot, eating through the fear that was currently freezing all the blood in her veins.

Druella once again wrapped her hand in Andromeda’s ponytail and pulled her up to her feet. “Answer me, girl,” she hissed, leaning close to the brunette’s face, “You’ve been seeing a mudblood haven’t you?”

She swallowed thickly. “Yes.”

Then, Druella released her. Andromeda stumbled, grabbing the edge of the counter to keep her from falling over. Just like that, Druella Black’s infamous poise and decorum were back. “I will speak to your father about this. He will decide what to do with you.”

Her heart could have stopped. According to the Blacks, Andromeda had committed a cardinal sin by even touching Ted. And now, she had been with him for years. Her mother was furious, obviously, but she was still a wife, and all major decisions came down to the man of the house. Even when it came to disciplining daughters.

“To your room, Andromeda,” she ordered and then snapped, “Now.”

She didn’t need to be told twice. She bolted from the kitchen and ran all the way to her bedroom, which was a feat in a house so big. For the hours she waited for her father to arrive, Andromeda cycled between crying into her pillows and pacing her room. What was she going to tell Ted? How was she going to tell Ted? There’s no way her parents would ever let her out of the house again without an escort.

She would never see Ted again.

And then the tears came back, and it was a vicious cycle until her bedroom door banged open.

Andromeda sat up on her bed, frozen as Cygnus Black walked into the room. Her mother floated in the doorway. Cygnus reached for her and gripped Andromeda’s chin tightly in his hand; it was a hard, painful reinvention of the one sign of affection he ever showed any of the girls. He forced her to look him in the eye.

“You will never see that mudblood again, do you understand me?” he said, low and dangerous, “I will not have my daughter defiled by that filth, nor will I allow her to besmirch my good name. You will attend tomorrow’s party and you will do what you were born to do and forget all about him. Am I clear?”

Pureblood party. Dancing with every unbetrothed son of her parents’ friends until she couldn’t feel her feet. Pretending to be so in love with her little cousin that everyone would just accept it when their parents announced their engagement. No more Ted. It would be like he never even existed.

She was older now. Who was she to think that she could keep her girlish affections after leaving school? She always knew, deep down, where her place is.

“Yes, father.”

Cygnus released her, and Andromeda let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding. “Good girl. You will stay here until the party tomorrow as punishment. And this–” He snatched up her wand from her bedside table, causing a pang of panic to shoot through her. “Is mine. Until further notice.”

He swept out of the room without another word, and Druella was hot on his heels. Moments later her door slammed, leaving Andromeda alone in her room. Even though she now had hours to herself to think of what to say to Ted –in a letter, of all things– she knew it wouldn’t be enough time to say everything she wanted to.

For the next twenty-four hours, Andromeda Black was the picture of a perfect daughter. She sat before the vanity in her room and let Narcissa do her hair like nothing was wrong. Her little sister liked doing things like that. Plus, she would chat like no one was listening, so Andromeda could just stare at her reflection and let it happen.

Try to once again come to terms with the fact that this was her fate for the rest of her life.

Even Druella said nothing when Andromeda came down the stairs and passed her– oh. It was because she was talking to Bellatrix. She hadn’t seen her older sister for quite some time, and even as they made eye contact over their mother’s shoulder, Andromeda decided she would keep it that way. She was sure if she got anywhere near Bellatrix at that moment she would scratch her eyes out.

The middle sister waded through the party like a fish about to go belly-up. She accepted glasses of champagne without more than a smile in reply, followed his lead, allowed him to squeeze her hand a little too tightly, and step on her shoes. This is what her parents wanted. Pretty, cooperative, and silent.

“Too bad about the Blacks,” her partner said, stirring her out of her thoughts.

She blinked at him. “What do you mean?” she said. That might have been the first intelligent thing she’d said to him all night. What was his name? Wilford? Waldo?

“I mean,” he continued, and with the look on his face she registered what he was getting at, “You walk around like you’re too good for everyone, yet you don’t even know how to speak.”

“Excuse me–”

“You’re excused, love,” he said, stepping away from her for a moment, which was the steps in the dance. It gave her just enough time to allow rage to boil up in her chest. He was insulting her for being quiet, even though that’s exactly what her mother asked her to do? Could she never win? She spun back into his arms. “It’s a fine change. No one liked a chatty woman, you know.”

Andromeda couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She was repulsed. Yes, that was it. She could see it now, living this way for the rest of her life. All of these girls in the room, dancing with strangers, would suffer loveless marriages and the desperate pursuit of a son and a lifetime of being silent. If she was miserable for just one night of reckoning with it, she wouldn’t survive her entire life.

She had a way out. She had love, real love, and it didn’t have to be a childhood dream. She wasn’t playing herself. And she wasn’t scared anymore.

Suddenly, she stepped back. Her partner looked confused. “Excuse me,” she muttered before turning.

He scoffed. “You can’t just leave in the middle of a dance!”

She paused just long enough to turn and give him a look. “I can, and I will.”

Pushing her way through the crowd, she beelined for the place where she knew she would find her wand. Her father’s study was on the second floor beside the library, where she remembered sitting on the floor and drawing pictures while her father read her a story. It pained her, thinking of what she was about to do. Her parents loved her, even if they would never tell her so or let her explain to them that the world was changing. Ted loved their daughter, don’t they want that? And Narcissa… Merlin, Andromeda would miss her. Her beautiful perfume, and her soft-spoken ways, and her unwavering loyalty. Andromeda had lost Bellatrix some time ago.

The study was unlocked and open to the guests to browse, should they want to during the party. It was a status symbol if she ever saw one. Andromeda closed the door behind her and knelt before the desk. She pulled open every drawer until she found one that was locked. That had to be where he was keeping her wand– out of reach, but in a place where she would know exactly where it was. Taunting her.

“Alohamora,” she whispered at the drawer, hoping her wand could do something. It was her only plan. “Come on. Alohamora!”

Light flashed and she could pull the drawer open. She retrieved her wand and paused before she waved it again. There was blank paper sitting on the desk, empty. Quickly, she placed her wand down and got a quill.

She wrote three notes. One to Sirius, so she could go into detail about what she was doing and where she was going and that she was going to be safe. He would understand. The other two were for Cissy and Regulus, and both of them said something simple; ‘I’m sorry I’m leaving you with them’. She signed off that she loved each of them very much.

Stubborn tears rolled down her cheeks as she folded each of the letters. They dotted the parchment, but she didn’t have time to make them look pretty. All three of the recipients were downstairs, but she charmed them to appear in each respective bedroom so she didn’t ruin their nights.

Andromeda once again picked up her wand. She took a breath, trying to memorize the scent of home before she gave the wand a wave and apparated on the spot to Ted’s.

[mooosicaldreamz]

I am writing a hellish final paper for school. Do you have any more MYIY drabbles you can share? They are a pick me up.

this is the story of kara eating a bunch of mashed potatoes in the dark while watching lena’s ted talk, and her sister judging her. it’s set just after kara graduates college in national city. you might’ve heard about this story but you will see why it got delayed when you read. FYI: IF YOU HAVEN’T MADE IT TO CHAPTER 12 OF MYIY, you should NOT read this because of SPOILERS. if you have read chapter 12, you should be good.

“Kara, do you want to tell me why all your lights are out and you’re eating a massive bowl of mashed potatoes in the dark?”

Kara responds with a I’m not that sounds petulant and severely handicapped by the mound of mashed potatoes in Kara’s mouth. Alex reaches around for the light switch, blinking when the lights of Kara’s tiny apartment flip on.

Having just graduated from college, Kara’s apartment is shitty and supported entirely by her around-the-clock work at Noonan’s. They hardly ever see each other, considering Alex is off hunting down aliens and Kara is constantly serving drinks and food, and so Alex had thought - for one brief moment - that now was a good time to go visit her sister, even though it was late.

“Where did you even get all those mashed potatoes?” Alex asks, closing the door and locking the flimsy deadbolt that she’s told Kara repeatedly to replace.

“We had a late order and had to make a batch,” Kara says, after swallowing. She grabs ahold of Alex then, after setting down her bowl, and squeezes maybe too tight. Alex feels a few of her joints pop - but she isn’t keen on denying her sister a hug. “What are you doing here? I was - um. I was just getting ready for bed.”

Admittedly, the bed does look settled in, but Kara’s still got her glasses on, not to mention the mass of potatoes.

“What were you actually doing?” Alex asks, looking around the small living room and even glancing into the bedroom. There haven’t been many visitors in Kara’s life - or really, none - since she moved to National City. But maybe tonight had been exciting, and the mashed potatoes were just a ploy to throw her off the scent. But there’s no dark form hiding in the bedroom, just a lump of blankets that have been pushed around to create a barrier on the left side of the bed. It makes Alex frown, and when Kara meets her eyes, she’s smiling very sheepishly.

“Nothing. Do you want to, uh, go get some drinks? I could go for some nachos and beer,” Kara asks. “Did you just get off a shift?”

Really, Alex had just finished handcuffing some alien named a Treogor and throwing him into containment, and it feels uncomfortable to lie, but - well, there’s no other choice.

“Yeah, and I was hoping we could catch up on some episodes of Downton,” Alex says, then grins, holding up the bag she’s brought along. “I got some dim sum. And by some I mean I brought like, forty bucks worth of dim sum.”

The incredulous look on the face of the person at The Smiling Noodle was worth Kara’s huge grin as she made grabby hands for it.

“We need to set up a real sister’s night,” Kara says, and Alex relinquishes the bag to Kara’s great care. She starts unpacking it on the small counter, and Alex grabs a beer from the fridge, falling onto the couch and picking up the remote.

If Kara hadn’t been so distracted by the dim sum, her cry of no, wait, might have come fast enough. But instead, Alex flips on the television at the same time she realizes Kara’s small little hand-me-down Apple TV is on and blinking steadily at her, indicating it’s in use.

When the television wakes up, Alex is staring at the face of Lena Luthor.

“Um, okay,” Kara starts, as though she has no idea where to start. “Let me explain.”

“Kara,” Alex says, full of warning and annoyance that’s not really meant to be directed at her sister, but at Lena’s stupidly beautiful face, which is made up with a gleaming red lipstick that brings attention to how pale her face is and how dark her hair is. She looks nothing like the paparazzi photos Alex sometimes sees from these days, still young and like she did in college. The information bar on the bottom of the screen says the talk is from almost two years ago. “What in the hell?”

“It’s a TED Talk about robotics in medicine,” Kara says, adjusting her glasses and glancing around her apartment. All of a sudden, Alex is ultra-aware of the touches around the small space that are about Lena, small little altars that she’s tried to not point out since Kara’s moved from her dorm into this bigger space. There’s the stack of books on the windowsill that still are littered with notes, there’s the photo from campus of that one bench, there’s that lump of blankets and pillows in Kara’s bed - and there’s Lena on the screen, frozen in the middle of a sentence.

“Kara, come on,” Alex says. Kara’s standing in her tiny kitchen, mere feet from Alex, one hand still grasping a dim sum package.

“It’s an interesting talk,” Kara says, though she sounds rather like she’s losing conviction over it. “Like, she’s talking about using nanobots to heal injuries and stuff. I mean, it’s really basic stuff, but it’s - well, it’s pretty revolutionary here. There’s this part where she demonstrates a theoretical model of them working as coagulants.”

She sounds proud, and that’s what makes Alex angry, all of a sudden.

“Kara, you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” Alex says, standing up from the couch and dropping the remote behind her. Kara winces at the volume that she’s speaking at. “You know that. It’s been two years, and you’re watching a TED Talk from - a year and a half ago in the dark! That’s insane!”

Kara almost gets her mouth open to respond, but Alex is just angry now, glancing at the television and the wall and at Kara’s face as it drifts toward a familiar sadness.

“You guys broke up, and you’re right, it sucks, and I’m sorry, and I will buy you every ton of ice cream you need, but the more you sit around and think about it - the more you remind yourself of it, the worse it gets. You moved across the entire country to forget about her, you transferred universities and you had to take a whole extra year of college, and yet, I walk in on you torturing yourself? What the hell?”

Kara blinks, and her hand is rubbing at her temple, fiercely enough that Alex regrets the yelling, sort of.

“I didn’t move to forget about her,” Kara says, simply, like that has any bearing on what Alex has just said. She nearly tears her hair out.

“She broke up with you for shitty reasons - “

“I don’t know if I would call them shitty reasons.”

“ - and then she moved to fucking Tokyo, and she hasn’t called you or texted you, not fucking once.”

“I know,” Kara says, then shrugs, pulling off her glasses and dropping them on the counter. “Alex, I know. Please stop yelling.”

“Why are you watching this, then? Why are you not - out on dates, talking to people, getting over this?”

“Because she’s - she’s my - it’s not something I can just get over,” Kara says, closing her eyes tightly. There’s a tell-tale glow around the corners of them that scares Alex, just a little, and she tries to reign in her anger, even though she’s just - pissed, really. If only Lena fucking Luthor were here, and she’d perform her magic on Kara, sedating her and making her smile. But instead, she’s on Kara’s tiny television, talking about - nanobots. Jesus Christ.

“I know that I haven’t been in a relationship like you guys had, but it’s been two years, Kara,” Alex says.

“Did you know that - that on Krypton, our mates are chosen by the time we’re seventeen?” Kara says. “Or they were, I guess.”

Alex blinks. She’d like to hope that this subject change is a random choice, but the intent and frustration on Kara’s face says otherwise. It feels like her stomach drops through the floor.

“No,” Alex says, then shrugs. “They were chosen for you?”

“Yes,” Kara says. “But not like - an arranged marriage. Mates were well-considered, and they were chosen carefully. A mate is - well. It’s a connection that goes deeper than what Earth thinks of when they think of marriage or dating. The connection isn’t broken by distance or death. It can’t be, permanently.”

Alex finds herself shaking her head, because Kara is - well, Kara is rubbing at her eyes more, this time to wipe away tears. She wants to reach out toward her sister, but Kara is wrapping herself up in her arms, gripping ahold of the metal bracelet that Alex knows Lena made her on her wrist.

“Actually, on Krypton, we exchange bracelets instead of rings,” Kara says, holding up her wrist and smiling softly at Alex. It’s a terrible smile to witness break across her sister’s face, on par with the whispered I miss her so much Alex had received when Kara had woken up the morning after Lena left school. The anger in Alex’s system roils even higher at Lena Luthor, capable of giving a TED Talk to hundreds of people about something as trivial as nanobots when Kara is crying in her shitty apartment in National City, over Lena Luthor, again.

“And I mean, she didn’t know when she made me this. Doesn’t know,” Kara says, shrugging and pulling at the bracelet. “I gave her a watch that has the vows on it. And I don’t think that I have a - claim over her, you know? Krypton is dead. Those vows hold no weight without Rao’s light, but they…they mean something to me. She means something to me that I can’t ever forget. I moved here because I couldn’t - it was killing me, being on that campus and not being able to hear her heartbeat. I couldn’t focus. And I still can’t hear it, here, but at least I don’t - expect to.”

“Kara…” Alex says, reaching out for her sister and wrapping her arms around her when Kara falls into her, sobs starting to take over her body.

“She’s going to come back to me,” Kara whispers, her hands still clutched against her chest, wrapped around the bracelet. “I know she will.”

Alex doesn’t have the heart to say she doubts it, because Kara’s surety is painfully obvious, and plain old painful. It breaks Alex’s heart all over again.

“Let’s watch this, then,” Alex says, and Kara laughs, pulls out of Alex’s embrace and looks down at her. Her eyes are red from the crying, and the blue of them is a shock. “I mean, I still think she’s an idiot, so I don’t know how I can possibly trust an idiot to teach me about nanobots in medicine, but if you want to watch - let’s watch.”

“Okay,” Kara says, reaching quickly for one of the dim sum containers and her huge bowl of mashed potatoes.

When Alex presses play, Kara’s attention turns rapt, and she watches Lena’s every move on the small screen. Now that she’s looking for it, too, she notices the gold watch that Lena wears, the one that she adjusts habitually throughout the presentation. It’s a good, smart presentation, too, and Alex wishes that someone with a genius IQ could just figure it out. Could just figure out that her baby sister was waiting for her to come back, no matter how stupid that was.

Lena does another TED Talk, four months later, and when she comes onstage to applause with her presentation partner - a man named Jack Spheer - she isn’t wearing the gold watch. Kara doesn’t say anything, but Alex knows she notices. After that, Kara throws herself into her job search, getting a job at CatCo, wearing the bracelet less and less. And Alex feels like - maybe she’s on the road to being okay. Maybe the vows of Krypton have lessened their hold on her sister. And that’s okay.