#BUT a few months back on main I talked about how we usually eat bread for dinner and I got so much horrified feedback

[study-coffee-chicago]

Seasons of Med: Season 2 and Seasons of PD: Season 4: Necessities, Love, & Care (A Halstead Brothers + Halstead Sister! Imagine)

Your age: 15

Jay's age: 29

Will's age: 31

You were currently sitting at the library, trying to figure out how you'd get food for dinner. It was January and you had run out of your Christmas money two weeks ago and you had burned through your money from helping with kettle corn at the beginning of December. Right now you were SOL: Shit outta luck.

Your mind wandered back to the last day you had helped working the kettle corn stand when it was a dreary late October day.

"We have kettle corn, caramel corn, cheddar, Chicago style, and a few other flavors," you explained to a customer. She picked up a medium bag of caramel corn. "That one?"

"Yes, dear. Me and my husband love this stuff," the old lady said.

"I'm sure. It's really good! It'll be six dollars." She pulled out a five and two ones. "I'll be right back with your change."

"Oh, no, keep the change, dear. Thank you for the popcorn."

"You're welcome. Have a nice day."

"Y/N," Emma said to you. "Can you grab me a lemonade from the cooler?"

"Just one?"

"Yup, just one."

You grabbed it from the cooler and were about to pass it to her when you saw who her customers were: Jay and Erin.

"Y/N?" Jay asked. "What are you doing here?"

"Working," you answered quickly. "Little bit of extra money never hurt anybody. The real question is, what are you doing here? I know Erin hates being outside when the weather is crappy."

"It's because he's annoying when he whines and begs to do something, so I figured it was just best to give in," Erin answered.

Jay rolled his eyes. "God, I can't win with either of you. Why do you always gang up on me?"

"Because, Halstead, us girls gotta stick together," Erin laughed.

"Okay, okay, fine. Y/N, what popcorn should I get?"

"First of all, it's kettle corn," you corrected. "And, I suggest the cheddar. Or, if you want a combination of both salty and sweet, then get the Chicago style. It's cheddar and caramel."

"Me and Erin like sweet, but I know you. You like cheddar. And you'll pick out the cheddar pieces when you're at my apartment, so I'll get the Chicago style."

"Or," Erin started as she picked up a large bag of caramel and a large bag of cheddar, "We could get this big bag of caramel, and then you could have this bag at your apartment for Y/N. That way the flavors aren't touching."

"Erin Lindsay and not liking her food touching. Fine, we'll take what Erin suggested and one lemonade."

"One or two straw holes?" Emma asked, picking up the lid-punching tool.

"One's fine," Jay answered.

"They swap enough spit as it is," you whispered to Emma, causing her to laugh.

"What'd she say?" Jay asked.

"I can't tell you. It's a secret."

He huffed. "Fine. Keeping secrets from your big brother? That's cold Y/N, that's cold."

"So you're saying you never kept secrets from Will?" Erin asked.

"I have the right to remain silent."

"Exactly," Erin said. "How much does he owe you?"

"Excuse me? I didn't know I'd be the one paying for all of this."

"You were the one who dragged me outside, so yes, you are paying, Halstead. Now, get your card ready."

Jay rolled his eyes and pulled out his wallet. "How much?"

You did the math in your head. "$23."

"Emma, can you check her math?" Jay asked and you rolled your eyes in his lack of faith in you.

"$10 for the cheddar and $8 for the caramel makes $18...plus $5 for the lemonade...yup $23."

You handed him the card reader. "And now it's just going to ask you a few questions," you told him after his card went through.

Without allowing him to read it all the way through, Erin hit the tip and no receipt buttons. "Hey!" Jay exclaimed.

"Don't blame me! You were the one who wanted me to come out here!" She turned to you and took the bag of kettle corn as Jay picked up the 32 oz lemonade. "Thanks, Y/N!"

"No problem! Just make sure he doesn't buy any more paintings of motorcycles!"

Man, how you wished you could work that job right now because it was only for a few hours on the weekends. But, it was winter now, so there were no street fairs, farmers markets, or festivals going on. Because of this, your money had run out. You'd have to do what you'd have to get yourself some food, even if it would leave you with a guilty conscience.

With that in mind, you got up and left the library.

***

"Pop's been complaining of chest pain and refuses to go to the hospital," Jay told his older brother as he walked through the front door and into the living room.

"Of course he did," Will grumbled. Then, he turned to his father. "This won't take long. Unless it's bad. Then you'll have to come with me and actually go to the hospital this time."

"You can't force me to do anything," he argued as he watched his oldest son open up his medical bag.

"Just let him do his job. He knows what he's doing," Jay agreed with Will. Then, he remembered something. "Where's Y/N?"

"At school."

"At school? At 5 pm?" Jay asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Sometimes she stays after school and does homework. She's always home before it gets too late so I don't ask."

It's not like Jay and Will could have known this, though. Yes, you would talk and they're obviously there for you because they're your brothers, but your dad's parenting skills--or lack thereof--hadn't ever come up. You'd get together with your brothers once a week, but it was usually at one of your brothers' places. They rarely came inside your and your dad's place.

"All units, we have reports of a robbery at 3020 East Main Street. Assistance requested," Jay's radio stated.

Jay looked to Will, silently asking if it was okay for him to take it. "I've got it from here."

"Thanks, man," Jay said, clapping Will on the back and leaving the house.

He drove to the small corner market that had made the call. It was only a block away from where you and your dad lived, but despite it usually being somewhat slow, today it was even slower. There was only one car parked in the lot, so Jay was confused as to who would even rob this place.

He put on his vest and walked into the store. "Got a call about a robbery," he said to the store manager as he entered.

"Yes, right over here."

He led Jay over to where a girl was sitting on a stool, tears rolling down her face. She held a box of pasta, a loaf of bread, and a small jar of peanut butter. Her coat was unzipped, revealing the tampons and pads she had stuffed inside her coat after she had ripped open the box.

"Y/N?" Jay asked in disbelief. "What are you doing? What were you even thinking?"

"I- I'm sorry," you sniffled.

Then he turned to the store manager. "You called the cops on a fifteen-year-old girl for grabbing what looks to me like necessities?"

"I've let her go the past two times when she needed things, but today she didn't have the money, so I couldn't let it slide."

Jay threw $30 in the man's hand. "There. Now it's all paid for." He turned to you and took the loaf of bread. "C'mon."

You followed him out of the store, waiting to be yelled at as you entered his truck, but it didn't come. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he handed you the bread. "Why? Why did you do this?"

"There- There's barely any food in the house. I was just hungry."

Jay looked you up and down. He hadn't been really looking for changes in weight like he told Natalie he would do six months ago. He kept it up for a few months and then winter came around and it was hard to tell because of bulky jackets and sweaters. But, now that he actually looked at your face and hands in an investigative manner, it was clear as day: You had lost even more weight.

"And the other stuff?" he asked.

"Dad won't buy them for me. Says that they're too expensive and to just use something else. He said that if he had had a son he wouldn't have to worry about it, like it's my fault. Usually, I take some from school, but I ran out and I needed them."

"And the food?" Jay asked as he started driving back to his childhood home.

"I get breakfast and lunch at school, but I have to eat dinner at home. And on weekends I just skip meals and eat breakfast and dinner."

"What? What about Dad?"

"He gets takeout or he goes to the bar and isn't home until late."

Jay sighed as he pulled into the driveway. "Go pack a bag, kid. You're staying at my place until further notice."

"Really? I thought you guys forgot about me?"

"We could never forget about you. It's just, work has been busy for both of us. So, sorry if these last few times we've all been together for dinner have seemed a little rushed. Now, go inside and grab your stuff while I have a chat with Will and Dad."

"Dad, Will," Jay said after you had run upstairs and they were sitting on the couch. "I need to talk to you. In the kitchen."

"Really, Jay. Why can't it be here?" your dad grumbled. "First he--" He pointed to Will. "Wants to take me to the hospital because he said I have a valve issue and now I can't even have a conversation with my sons while sitting down?"

"Just get up, dammit!"

The three entered the kitchen and sat down, but Jay stayed standing. "Jay, what's going on?" Will asked.

Instead of answering his older brother, Jay just opened the fridge. There was a half drank gallon of milk, a jar of grape jelly, and a can of pasta sauce, along with other condiments, and a lone egg sat on a shelf. "This? This is what you expect your daughter to eat? I caught her stealing from a store just so she could get food and tampons!"

"Well, I'm not gonna pay for it."

"Excuse you?" Will exclaimed, eyebrows raised in surprise. "What do you mean you're not paying for it? She's your daughter, isn't she? Then you have a legal responsibility to feed her, make sure she has shelter, clothes, and goes to school!"

"She can go get a job."

"She is fucking fifteen!" Jay yelled. "She doesn't need to be worrying about where her next meal is coming from! She's supposed to be worrying about getting a good grade on a math test or if that boy likes her or not, but not that!"

"She needs to learn to grow up someday. And she won't if you boys baby her like you always do whenever you see her."

"Baby her?" Will yelled, disgusted. "She's a kid. She needs to be babied sometimes. She needs fucking food and a nice home to come home to, not whatever the hell you think this is."

"It hasn't been a home since your mother died."

"Yeah, we gathered that," Jay scoffed. "But you don't have to take it out on her."

"Jay," your small voice said from the doorway into the kitchen. All three men looked over to you, your backpack on your back, a duffle bag slung over your shoulder, and your favorite blanket wadded up in your hands so that you could carry it without it dragging on the ground.

"Ready to go?" Jay asked, his voice immediately softening.

"Uh, yeah," you answered, unsure of how your dad would react.

"What do you mean ready to go?" Pat Halstead asked, standing up from where he had been previously sitting at the table. "She's not going anywhere!"

Will rushed over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder while Jay stalked over to be face to face with your dad. "She is coming with me until further notice. You're lucky I don't arrest your ass for child neglect!"

"You wouldn't do that to your own father!"

Jay pulled the cuffs out of his back pocket. "Oh yeah? Try me."

He sat back down and Jay turned to you. "Here, let me take that." You handed him your duffle bag and followed him and Will outside.

"Jay, I gotta go. I gotta get Dad to Med to get the valve fixed. And, I said one hour out of the hospital tops and it's been two."

Jay closed the truck door once you were safely inside with all your stuff. "Good luck trying to get Dad to go the hospital," he scoffed. "Get going. Don't give Goodwin another reason to fire your stupid ass."

"I'll call an ambulance if I have to." Then, Will smacked Jay upside the head.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You know what it was for. And, I'm your older brother, it's my job."

"I'm your older brother, it's my job," Jay mocked. "But, in all seriousness, do me a favor and make sure Y/N's all caught up on her immune- immune--"

"Immunizations?" Will laughed.

"Yeah, those."

"I'll do that. And if she's not, I'll give them to her tonight when I come over to your place after my shift is done...which will be in like two hours...depending on how much of a pain in the ass he is to get in the hospital."

Jay nodded, and then got in the truck, both of you making your way to his place.

"I'm gonna go take a shower," Jay said after you had put your stuff down by the couch. "You have homework?"

"Yeah," you looked down, not wanting to even try and struggle through your homework...or have Jay sign the slip that said that you failed your last test.

Jay smiled. "I'll help you with it when I'm out of the shower, okay, kid?"

"How'd you know--"

"That is the universal facial expression of I need help, but I don't know how to ask for it. I'll be ten minutes tops."

And so, you tried to struggle through your homework for ten minutes. But, you ended up working and reworking the stupid algebra problem. Why did math need letters anyway?

"Okay, I'm back," Jay said as he pulled a chair out to sit next to you. "What are you workin' on?"

"Can you sign this first?" you asked, sliding the yellow paper over to him along with the pen. You hoped he'd just sign it blind, but as you saw his eyes skimming the page, you knew that wouldn't happen.

"Did you try your best?" he asked as he slid the piece of paper back to you after signing it.

"What? Yeah, of course, I did."

"Okay, then we'll figure something out. Now, how about we eat some dinner? I've got pizza in the freezer. That okay?"

"That's great," you answered.

Jay got the pizza in the oven while you went and changed into your pajamas. You decided it was in your best interest to have Will help you with your math homework.

***

"Ah! The man of the hour!" Jay exclaimed as he pulled out the pizza and Will entered the house.

You immediately noticed the red bag he was carrying over his shoulder and the two king-sized Twix bars.

"Why do you have your medical bag?" you asked.

"How did you know this was my medical bag?"

"I'm not stupid, Will."

"Okay, so you're all caught up on your shots, but I need to do a blood draw because I need to see if you're deficient in any vitamins and minerals. Have you been eating enough fruits and veggies?" he asked.

"Probably not as much as I should," you admitted. "They're too expensive unless I get the canned kind and I don't like those unless it's canned peaches. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Short Stack. None of this is your fault. You hear me? None of it. I just need to take the blood and then get it sent to the lab to see if you need to get any specific pills to get your vitamin and mineral levels up."

"Okay. Does it hurt?" you asked. You knew what a shot felt like, but you'd never had your blood drawn before, so you didn't know what it felt like to have a needle in your arm for a long time, taking blood. You knew what it felt like to have an IV in from when you passed out at the movie theater, but you didn't know if this needle would be the same size or bigger.

"You just feel a slight pinch at the beginning."

"Like getting a shot?"

"Like getting a shot," he confirmed.

"Hey, I was thinking," Jay started as he reappeared from the kitchen area, "what if we have celery and carrots with ranch for dinner, too? You know, like when we eat chicken wings at restaurants and they bring you some veggies, except we'll have ours with pizza."

"Okay," you agreed. "I like ranch."

"So does everyone in the midwest," Will joked.

"What's the medical bag for?" Jay asked. "She needs shots? And, what's with the Twix bars?"

"No, I'm drawing her blood to see if she's deficient in anything. And, there's one Twix bar for her and one for you because we all know how you feel about needles, Jay."

Jay rolled his eyes. "We doing this before we eat?"

"Yes. And, I need you to answer some questions for me, Y/N. These are strictly doctor protocol questions, okay? You don't need to be embarrassed about any of the answers."

You nodded.

"Okay," Will started, "When did you last eat? Just need to write it down for fasting glucose levels."

"Um, lunch at school, so around noon."

"So, six-hour fast," Will scribbled down on a piece of paper. "Next one, are you sexually active?"

"Will!"

"It's just standard protocol, just in case I need to test for STDs."

"No, I am not. Next question."

"Okay, last one: When was your last period?"

"You've got to be kidding me. I'm not pregnant, I haven't had sex!"

Will chuckled. "It's not for that. Sometimes when people are deficient in vitamins and minerals, they can lose their period for months at a time, signaling that their body isn't healthy. The medical term is amenorrhea." But, what he wanted to say was that when girls are underweight, this can also happen. And, from seeing how baggy your sweatshirt and jeans were on you, he assumed that you'd lost ten pounds since last going to the doctor when you passed out in the movie theater parking lot, making your weight loss a grand total of 25 pounds, which would qualify you as being underweight.

"Oh. I started today."

"Okay, good to know. Any changes in length or heaviness of menstruation?"

"I swear, I'd rather have Natalie or April be asking me these questions," you grumbled. "But, yes, it's a lot lighter and it went from me having my periods for five days to two days. Can we please stop talking about this now?"

"Yeah, we're all done. Sorry about that, but it's protocol."

"Says the guy who's drawing my blood at Jay's apartment instead of in a hospital, where it should be done."

"Hey, I've worked in much worse conditions than this in Sudan. How much water did you drink today?"

"A lot."

"Okay, good." Will started to unzip his medical bag. He passed a Twix bar to Jay. "Here, eat this and focus on it so you don't focus on the needles and then freak out."

Jay rolled his eyes, but took the candy bar and unwrapped it.

"Do I get one?" you asked.

"Once I draw your blood, yes, the other one is for you. Now, right or left arm?"

You held out your left arm and Will moved to the other side of you so he had a better angle. He sanitized his hands and then snapped on a pair of gloves.

"So, what do you do?" you asked. "I've never had my blood drawn before."

"I just tie off your arm so that I can get the veins to show a bit better, wipe down the spot with an antiseptic wipe, stick the needle in, and then wait for the vial to fill up."

"That's it?"

"That's it. Can you make a fist with your left hand for me?"

You did as Will told you and then he tied a band around your bicep and started touching the inside of your elbow, trying to get some veins to show. He furrowed his eyebrows and moved down your arm, rubbing your forearm and then going back up to the crook of your elbow and gently pressing there.

"What's wrong?" you asked.

"You just have really small veins is all. I could take the blood from the big vein in your forearm, but I don't really want to do that one since it's so big. Can you squeeze your fist tighter for me?" You did as he said while he kept pressing on the crook of your elbow. "There we go. Got one. Now, turn and look at Jay while I get the needle ready."

You looked at Jay and tried not to laugh. "You okay?"

"Me? I should be asking you that," he replied. "You're the one who's about to get stabbed with a needle."

"It's just that you got some sweat on your forehead. You look nervous."

"They're needles. They're tiny little sharp metal objects and if one breaks off--"

"Jay, respectfully," Will started, cutting off his brother, "shut the hell up, so you don't scare my patient. You might just want to look away instead of watching me. Then you might feel fine." Then, he turned back to you. "Okay, Y/N, keep looking at Jay. Close your eyes if you want to. You're going to feel a small pinch."

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Then, you squeezed your eyes shut tightly and grit your teeth, trying not to yell out as the needle pierced your skin.

"Hard part's done," Will said. You nodded, still keeping your eyes closed.

"That was not a small pinch," you retorted about a minute later.

"Sorry."

You opened your eyes and watched as the blood flowed from your vein into the small tube that was hooked up to the needle.

"I thought you hated blood," Jay pointed out. "And here you are, watching the entire process."

"I'm fine when it's my blood if it's not a huge, deep cut," you explained. "It's other people's blood I don't like."

"Well, that takes any job in the medical field off your career choices," Will said.

You sat there for a few more minutes, waiting for the vial to fill up. Will pressed on your arm, close to the needle, to see if more would come out. "This vein is really small," he said.

You watched as the blood coming into the tube started becoming slower and slower, in what looked to be bubbles.

"Just a little more," Will muttered.

You started taking deeper breaths as you felt sweat start to bead on your forehead.

"Okay, let's see how much this gave me." He pressed his thumb above where the needle was and you turned back to Jay as he removed the needle.

Then, he got the blood into the vial. "Bad news," he started, "I might need to take more. Let's see how much extra there is." He put the extra into another, smaller vial. "Yeah, this one clotted too, so bad news, we need more."

You nodded and closed your eyes, feeling your face get hot and starting to feel lightheaded. You pinched the bridge of your nose, willing this uncomfortable feeling to go away.

"You doing okay?" Will asked.

"Yeah," you answered.

"Okay, I'm gonna do your right arm this time." You held your right arm out to him. "Make a fist for me." You did as he told you and he tied the blue band around your bicep.

But, you were getting even dizzier. "Actually, can I get some water? I feel dizzy."

"Course," Will said. "Jay, can you get her some water and juice if you have any?"

"Apple juice good?"

"That's fine," you answered.

Will untied the band from your bicep. "We're just going to wait a few minutes until you feel less dizzy before I take more blood, okay?"

You nodded and took the water from Jay when he came back.

"Let's have the juice after I finish," Will suggested after a few minutes had passed and you finished the water. "Feeling better, Short Stack?"

"Yeah, let's get this over with." Your forehead was still a bit sweaty, but you were a lot less dizzy.

Will repeated the same process as the last arm and it went a lot faster. Turns out he picked a bit bigger vein in the crook of your elbow of this arm than he did the other one.

"And, we're done," Will said as he capped the vial.

He handed you the juice. "Thanks," you said. "That was not fun."

"I bet. At least you didn't pass out. I've had a few patients do that when I went through my clinicals. That's why normally when someone gets their blood drawn, they sit in this chair where something is flipped down in front of them so they don't fall out of the chair just in case they pass out."

"Jay, do you pass out?" you asked.

He scoffed. "No. I don't even get dizzy. My body doesn't react like that."

"He just breaks out into a sweat whenever he sees needles," Will whispered, loud enough for Jay to hear.

"Hey! I heard that! Take one more jab at me and you won't be getting any pizza, Will. I mean it!"

Will held his hands up in a mock surrender while you finished up your juice. Then, Will started to pack up his medical stuff and Jay brought the pizza and veggies and ranch out, along with plates of course.

You ate your pizza while Will helped you with your math homework. Once you finished two slices of pizza and some celery and ranch, you said that you were done.

"You sure?" Jay asked. "You can have as much as you want."

"I'm good. Gotta save some for tomorrow." Your eyes widened as you realized what you had just said. "I'm gonna go take a shower. It's been a long day."

"Okay, clean towels are in the cabinet in the bathroom where they always are," Jay said, trying not to react to what you had just said even though he knew exactly what you were doing.

You were rationing food.

"Fuck," Jay said as he put his head in his hands when he knew you were in the bathroom and out of earshot.

"What? What did she mean by gotta save some for tomorrow?" Will asked.

"She's rationing it. I used to do it in Afghanistan. Save some of my MRE and put it in my pack to eat the next day if I was on a long trek and we knew we wouldn't get back to base. It would be cold and usually disgusting, but I'd choke it down because it was calories and I needed fuel to be sharp in case we came in contact with combatants."

"Poor kid. At least we had Mom."

Jay nodded. "What happened with Dad at the hospital?"

"Had to have a mitral valve replacement because his wasn't working properly. Told him over and over to get his checked regularly, but he didn't because he's stubborn. He went for the non-surgical option first, but then there were complications, so Rhodes performed surgery. He's fine."

"That's good... I guess." Jay glanced around and he saw your duffle bag sitting outside the bathroom door. You had grabbed your clothes to bring them into the bathroom and left your open duffle bag by the door.

Jay stood up and started walking towards it.

"What are you doing?" Will hissed.

"I need to see if she's got anything else in there that will help prove neglect. I'm assuming it needs to be proved...I only know criminal court cases, don't know much about family court cases."

"What do you mean family court? You're going to fight Dad to be able to take care of her?"

"Yeah, I'll fight to be her legal guardian. Unless you want to do it. My loan went through for a new apartment, which has two bedrooms, so I figured I might be better suited."

"Go ahead. You'd probably have a better chance anyway because you were around more when I was in New York."

Jay nodded and started to dig around your duffle bag. He chuckled and pulled out your Build-A-Bear. "She still sleeps with Beary," he said as he held up the stuffed bear. "Probably doesn't change his clothes anymore because she's too old for that, but he's in pajamas."

"Remember that military uniform you got for her bear? Mom said she barely took Beary out of that because she missed you so much."

"Yeah, and if she wouldn't have dropped him at the airport, I might not have met Mouse."

The two fell into a comfortable silence as he continued to dig through your bag. He got to a big zip-lock bag full of pieces of fabric that were stained light reds and browns.

"Will, c'mere," Jay said, waving him over. Will squatted down next to Jay. "You know what this is?"

Will sighed. "Unfortunately, yes. I saw a lot of this when I worked in Sudan."

"Well, what is it?"

"So, when girls don't have access or money to buy feminine hygiene products, they'll use scraps of fabric and wash them. Looks to me like she cut up some, um, she cut up some underwear and then used them as make-shift pads. If they aren't taken care of properly, she could end up with an infection. And, if she tried to use them as tampons instead of pads, it could lead to TSS, which stands for Toxic Shock Syndrome."

"We're gonna have to talk to her about this now, aren't we?"

"Unfortunately, yeah. She's not gonna be happy you dug through her stuff, so I'll let you explain why you were going through it. And, if she used them as tampons, I want her to get a pelvic exam, just to make sure she didn't get any infections. Much more likely to get an infection from tampons than pads."

Jay nodded. He hated having the current conversation and knew he was going to hate the next one even more, but he knew he had to do these things if he wanted to petition the court for legal guardianship.

Jay picked up your duffle bag and brought it to the living room and he set the zip-lock bag full of pieces of fabric on top.

"I can't believe we missed this," Will said. "I mean, we're both trained in how to spot abuse and we couldn't even spot it in our little sister."

"There weren't outright signs," Jay said. "No bruising, limping, cuts, burns, nothing like that. And, it's winter, it's easy to hide the weight loss. But, I still agree with you. If we would've spotted it earlier, we could've gotten her out of there."

"I'm pretty sure she's officially underweight now."

Jay ran a hand through his hair and then stood back up. "I'm gonna go put clean sheets on my bed. I'll let Y/N take it tonight so that we can keep talking out here when she goes to sleep."

"Good idea."

A few minutes later, Jay was back on the couch next to Will and you walked out of the bathroom, wearing a baggy t-shirt and some sweatpants that you had to keep pulling up because they were too big on you now, and a pair of fuzzy socks. You were cold all the time now and wanted your hoodie out of your duffle and wanted to put your dirty clothes in there, but when you looked down to the spot where you thought you had put it, it wasn't there.

"Guys?" you asked. "Have you seen my bag?"

You walked over to the kitchen table where your blanket was sitting on the chairs and wrapped that around yourself instead.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you saw your brothers on the couch, your duffle bag in front of them on the floor, and on top, your bag of ripped-up, old underwear that you used as pads when you didn't have any.

"You went through my stuff?" you asked, starting to become angry.

"Y/N," Jay started, "I know you're mad and it was me who went through it and not Will, so don't be mad at him, be mad at me. But, I went through it to see if anything was in there that could help me get you out of dad's house. Permanently."

"You- You want to have custody of me?" you asked.

A small smile appeared on Jay's lips and he nodded. "It wouldn't be considered custody because I'm not your biological parent, it would be considered guardianship, but yes, I want you to stay with me. And, my loan went through for a new apartment, so you'd have your own room and everything."

"Okay."

Jay looked at Will, not wanting to be the one to start this conversation. And, he figured Will would be the best one to start it because he was a doctor.

"Y/N, we need to ask you about these." Will motioned to the zip-lock bag on top of your stuff.

You sat in the loveseat across from them and looked down at your feet.

"It's okay, you're not in trouble," Will continued. "We just want to know how you used them in case you need to get a pelvic exam to check for infections in that area."

Your lip began to tremble as tears started to roll down your cheeks. "I used them as pads," you said quietly. "Dad wouldn't buy me any and I stopped getting them from school because I thought they'd suspect something was wrong if I- if I kept taking them."

"One more question," Will said softly. "I just need to know in case we need to take you in for this. I know you said you used them as pads, but did you ever try and use them as tampons?"

"No. I only used them as pads," you whispered. "I was scared to use them as tampons." You looked up at your brothers, who both had tears in their eyes. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you rushed. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner I was just--" You let out a wail and Jay got up and knelt in front of you.

"Hey, hey, none of this is your fault. Do you hear me? Absolutely none of this is on you. It's all on Dad. Every single bit of it. You are not the one to blame."

You launched yourself into his arms, crying out every emotion you had felt these past few months: anger, frustration, fear, sadness, it was all coming out now.

And, Jay just held you and let you cry it out because that was what your guys' mom used to do for him. And, he knew it worked.

Twenty minutes later, your wails were just quiet whimpers and you pushed yourself back up onto the loveseat, where Will had moved to the spot next to you. He wrapped an arm around you and you leaned into him, craving the comfort that had been denied to you for so long.

"You still have that Twix bar?" you asked.

"All that crying made you hungry, didn't it, Short Stack?" Will asked as Jay got up to retrieve the candy bar from the table.

You nodded.

"Thank you," you said when Jay handed you the Twix bar. You unwrapped it and broke it into the two sticks. "You guys want any?" They both shook their heads: they knew you needed to get as many calories in you as possible.

Jay sighed, he might as well get this hard conversation over with you tonight as well. "Y/N, you can eat as much as you want. I won't say anything about you eating too much, okay?"

You looked up from your candy bar. "You won't call me a burden because I'm eating your food? Like Dad did?"

"He said that?" Will asked, giving Jay a look that read when I see him next, I can't be held accountable for my actions.

"Yeah. One time there were some leftovers he had gotten from a bar and I was so hungry and it was the middle of the night, so I took them out and heated them up. The microwave timer must've woken him up because he came out just as I was about to start eating and then he yelled at me for eating his food and called me a burden."

"Well, we don't think that. Neither Will nor me think that," Jay told you. "And you can eat as much as you want."

You yawned as you crumpled up your Twix wrapper.

"Tired?" Will asked.

"Yeah," you mumbled.

"It's been a long day," Jay said. "You can take my bed."

"Jay, it's your apartment, I can't--"

"Y/N, this isn't up for discussion. I already put clean sheets on the bed for you."

"Is- Is there a fan in your room? I can't sleep without white noise."

"There is. You want me and Will to tuck you in?"

"I'm too old for that." You stood up and Will did, too. "Jay, can you hand me Beary? He should be in my duffle."

"Here you go, kid."

You took your bear and held him loosely in your arm. Then, you enveloped Jay in a hug and did the same for Will.

"I love you guys."

"We love you, too," Will said.

"Now get to sleep. You've still got school in the morning. I'll be here when you wake up."

"Dad sometimes wouldn't be home when I woke up for school. He'd be at a friend's house sleeping off a hangover from the night before or just sleeping."

Jay furrowed his eyebrows. "Doesn't he have to work?"

"He does work, but only a few days a week. The other days, he stays out really late and then comes home either drunk or hungover."

"I see," Jay stated. "Well I won't be doing that, I can promise you that."

"I know. You aren't like Dad. Neither of you are." You yawned again. "I'm going to bed, goodnight."

A few minutes later, you were out like a light and Will was still at Jay's apartment.

"So, Abby called me the other day," Will started. "She's looking for you. Says she's in town for a few days and wants to meet up."

"Oh yeah? She say why?" Jay asked, wondering why his ex-wife--who was the result of a blackout drunk wedding in Vegas, a thing that lasted only 24 hours tops--was in Chicago and was looking for him of all people.

"She said you two are still married."

Jay threw his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. "You have got to be fucking kidding me."

***

"Morning," Jay said as he stood at the stove flipping some eggs. "Sleep good?"

"I slept really good. Didn't even hear you wake up."

"Fan did the trick then?"

You nodded and grabbed a mug from the cupboard and went to start pouring yourself a cup of coffee.

"Nuh-uh," Jay chirped, putting his hand on the handle of the coffee pot as well.

"Why not? I drank it at Dad's."

Jay raised an eyebrow. "You drank coffee at Dad's?"

"Yeah, on the weekends sometimes that would be my breakfast because it curbs my appetite and there wasn't a lot to eat."

Jay sighed. "Well, you'll have enough to eat here, I can promise you that. And, coffee stunts your growth."

"Jay," you groaned. "I haven't grown since sixth grade."

"Okay, well, then you don't want to become dependent on it at such an early age, then. Come talk to me when you're a legal adult or in college."

"Fine." You let go of the coffee pot and put the mug back in the cupboard.

"You can have juice though." The toast in the toaster popped up and Jay placed the toast on a plate and then put a slice of cheese on each piece and then an egg on top. He also put a small bowl of strawberries next to it. "I'm gonna go get dressed while you eat. And then, once you're ready, I'll take you to school."

"Okay, thanks, Jay."

"You're welcome, kiddo."

You rolled your eyes at the nickname and then went to the fridge to get the apple juice. When you opened the fridge, you saw a brown paper bag with your name on it. Curiosity got the best of you, so you took it out and looked at the contents while you ate your breakfast.

Inside was a ham and Colby jack cheese sandwich with lettuce, pickles, mustard, and mayonnaise, an apple, a coconut-flavored Greek yogurt, celery with peanut butter, and a chocolate chip granola bar. There were also two dollars at the bottom of the bag paperclipped together with a sticky note stuck to the top.

For chocolate milk. ~Jay was what the note read.

Tears sprung to your eyes as you continued to eat your breakfast. You don't remember the last time you brought a lunch to school; you'd always get your lunch for free at school. When you got the paper from school about the free/reduced lunch because teachers noticed you didn't have much to eat, you waited until your dad was hungover and it was early in the morning, and handed him a pen and he signed the paper blindly. And, that's how you got lunch and breakfast at school without any cost to you or your dad.

"Hey, I can just brush my teeth at the kitchen sink if you want the bathroom--" He cut himself off when he saw the tears in your eyes. "What's wrong?"

"You- You made me lunch?" you asked as you turned to face him.

He smiled. "Of course I did. I know how bad cafeteria food can be. And, if it tastes good, it's usually not very good for you."

"Thank you," you said as you wiped a tear away that had rolled down your cheek.

"Aww, hey, don't cry, don't cry. It's okay. You're safe now. You don't need to worry about where your next meal will come from. And, I'm going to petition a judge for legal guardianship in a few days. I just have to have a few conversations with some lawyers."

"Does this mean you have to move? I don't want to kick you out of your apartment."

Jay dismissed that with a wave. "I already put in a loan application for a new apartment. Two bedrooms. Really nice."

"Can you tell me about it? While I finish eating my strawberries."

Jay nodded and sat down in the chair across from you. "It's a two-bedroom, washer, dryer. But, I know you don't care about those things. There's underground parking. It's got a gym, a whole club level, with like a coffee lounge, and all this other stuff."

"That sounds really nice."

"Yeah, it is a pretty nice building. Coffee lounge would be perfect for you to get your homework done if you don't feel like staying in the apartment."

"I thought you said I couldn't drink coffee?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I meant the caffeine in the coffee. Decaf coffee and lattes and tea lattes, that's a different story. I'm sure they have pastries there, too."

"Never pegged you for a coffee snob," you joked.

"You learn a lot about coffee and about a person when you have to get your entire unit coffee. I'll let you in on a little secret: Ruzek's coffee order is the most complicated."

"Really?"

"Really. Now, go finish getting ready. Don't want you being late for school."

***

"Hey, Er, can you meet me at the diner we usually go to?" Jay asked his girlfriend over the phone after he had dropped you off at school.

"Yeah, no problem. Give me fifteen minutes. We haven't caught a case yet, but we should keep our radios on just in case. Everything okay?"

"It's a long story. I'll explain everything in person, okay?"

"Okay," Erin answered skeptically. "I'll see you in a few."

Fifteen minutes later on the dot, Erin walked into the little diner and spotted Jay sitting in the corner booth.

"Alright, what's going on?" she asked after she had ordered her food and some coffee. "You sounded really stressed on the phone."

Jay sighed. "I'm going to fight for legal guardianship of Y/N."

"What? Why? What happened?" Erin asked as she widened her eyes.

"Our dad, he uh, he hasn't really been the greatest. Not keeping food in the house, calling her a burden when she tries to eat some of his food, not buying her products for you know...girl stuff. She's probably lost like 25 pounds since the end of last school year. And, I know that doesn't sound like a lot with the amount of time that's passed, but she's underweight. Will drew some of her blood last night to see if she's deficient in some vitamins or minerals."

"My God."

"Yeah, so, I know we were going to move into your place together, but I need another bedroom and my loan went through at that place I told you about, so I'm going to put an offer in there. You could always move in with me if you want, but I don't know if it would be a good idea for that to happen right away. I just want to get Y/N healthy again. I'm sorry."

"Jay, I get it. She's family. Do you know how you're going to go about this? Did you talk to Voight about taking any time off to sort this out?"

"Not yet. But, I think I'm going to call Antonio and see if he can help me out with getting a meeting with ASA Stone. I know he works criminal cases, but he's gotta know some stuff about family court cases. So, I figured he might be able to help me with this whole process."

"Good idea. If you need any help, just say the word and I'll be there."

Jay smiled. "Thanks, Er." He didn't want to have the conversation he was about to have, but he knew he had to tell her. "There's uh, there's one more thing I need to tell you."

"Okay, what is it?"

"About eight years ago, I was married."

"Excuse me, what? You were married and you didn't tell me?"

Jay knew this was a bad idea...which was why he hadn't wanted to tell Erin, but now that he wasn't officially divorced for whatever reason, he knew needed to tell her. "Just let me explain."

"Yes, please do," Erin sneered.

"Her name's Abby. She ran Cultural Support during my last tour in Kandahar. About a year after I came home, I saw her at a funeral in Vegas. Was... was a guy in our unit, he had redeployed, and, um, he didn't... Um, I was, like, blacking out most nights, and we were both pretty shook up. And, um, we got married." He chuckled at the thought of his twenty-one-year-old self thinking that marriage was a good idea. "It was, like, a 24-hour thing, it was a total joke, and it is long over."

Erin just stared at him, as he waited to be chewed out by her. "Jay, you married this girl. And you never told me, and you were never gonna tell me," was all she said.

"I know. And, I'm sorry. But, I'm meeting up with her in a few days to sign the documents that I thought I'd signed because she's getting married and we need to make the divorce official...even though, in my mind, it's been official for eight years.

"Er, please don't hate me, but with everything going on, with me trying to get guardianship of Y/N and me finding out that I'm somehow still married--"

"You want us to take a break?" Erin asked, finishing his sentence for him.

Jay nodded. "I'm sorry. I just don't think I can juggle a relationship with all this other stuff. And, it's not fair to you."

Erin swallowed. "Well, just tell me if you need any help with Y/N. I'll always be there for you. Relationship or partnership, I'll always have your six."

"And I'll always have yours."

Erin's phone buzzed on the table and she picked it up. "It's Voight. We caught a case."

Jay laid some bills on the table. "Then let's go."

***

"Got the results of Y/N's bloodwork back," Will told Jay over the phone while he had a quick break for lunch...even though it was four o'clock in the afternoon. But, that's the thing about the medical field: breaks are never regular.

"And? Any deficiencies?" Jay asked, walking into his bedroom as you were at the table doing homework and he didn't want to distract you.

"Yes, two actually. Iron and riboflavin. The low iron explains why her periods have become shorter and lighter, but that can also be attributed to how small she is now."

"How do we go about this then?"

"I'll send you a list of foods that have levels high iron and riboflavin. Oh, riboflavin's found in vitamin B by the way."

"Okay, care to tell me what iron and riboflavin do? I know iron helps with hemoglobin and red blood cells, but I have no idea what riboflavin does."

"You're right about iron. I'm shocked. Or, what do the kids say these days? I'm shook."

"I swear to God, please never use that phrase again. And, I know what iron does because I paid attention in high school nutrition class, thank you very much."

"If I remember correctly, I helped you with most of the homework in that class."

"Whatever, you helped me. Now, tell me about riboflavin."

"So, riboflavin just helps convert food into energy and is needed for healthy skin, hair, blood, and a healthy brain." Jay could hear a beeping in the background on Will's end. "Gotta go. I'll send you that list of foods right now, though."

"Thanks, man."

You looked up as Jay came back into the kitchen. "Everything okay?" you asked.

Jay pulled out a chair and sat across from you. "So, I just got off the phone with Will. He got the results from your bloodwork back."

"Is it bad? Am I dying?" You set your pencil down, bracing yourself for bad news.

"No," Jay chuckled, "you're not dying. You just don't have enough iron and riboflavin, which is a specific B vitamin. Will sent me a list of foods that have high levels of those in them. You up for some grocery shopping? We can also grab some multivitamins that have those in them, too, just to help your levels stabilize faster."

"Okay, we can go now. I'm due for a break."

***

"So, some foods that contain riboflavin include milk, eggs, cheese, yogurt, meats, green leafy vegetables, and riboflavin enriched grains and cereals," Jay read off his phone.

"I've had a lot of those today already," you pointed out. "Eggs and cheese with breakfast. I had that yogurt for a snack at school, and I had meat and cheese on my sandwich and I had chocolate milk with my lunch at school."

That was just standard, Jay thought. He wondered what you ate when you were at your Dad's. And, he knew that if he wanted to obtain guardianship of you, he'd need to know these things.

"What did you eat at Dad's?" Jay probed.

"I mean, I barely made it to school on time most mornings because I was trying to be quiet so I didn't wake Dad, which made me move slower when getting ready. So, I'd usually just grab a small thing of dry cereal when I got to school and eat it in my first class. I never checked to see if it was one of the enriched ones. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize. There's no way you could've known. Now, what did you usually have for lunch at school?"

"I always tried to get veggies with my lunch, but most of the veggies were the gross canned ones, like canned corn or green beans. I don't like those. Sometimes, they'd have little salads as a side and I'd get those. Sometimes they'd have yogurt parfaits and I'd get those. But, I'd usually go for the pre-made subs, because at least those would have veggies on them...even if it was just lettuce and pickles. I'd usually try to get an apple or banana as my side, too." You paused. "If I was getting meat and cheese from the sub and milk from my chocolate milk, then how am I deficient in this?"

"It's probably because the meat and cheese schools use is so heavily processed that there are little to no vitamins left in it," Jay answered.

"And you know this how?"

"As you get older, you acquire a lot of knowledge and one of those things is that the more processed a food is, the fewer vitamins and minerals are preserved...and I watch a lot of The Food that Built America on the History channel."

"Oh, okay. What foods are on that show?"

"Usually it's about fast food. One episode I watched last week was about ice cream and popsicles and how they came to be in America. Pretty interesting."

"Can we watch an episode tonight? That show sounds good."

"Of course." He paused in front of the fresh produce. "Take your pick. But, just make sure you get some leafy greens for the riboflavin and some fruit and other green veggies for iron."

You picked up a few things such as more apples, a bag of Clementines, bananas, spinach, carrots, and celery, and then, you shocked your brother as you picked up a bag of kale.

"Kale?" he asked. "Didn't know you liked it."

You shrugged. "I heard it tastes kind of like spinach. And, I saw a recipe on Pinterest for a salad that has kale, lemon juice, and dates. Is it okay if we try that?"

"You know, I think that would be the perfect side for dinner tonight. I'll add lemon juice and dates to the list."

"I didn't grab too many fruits and veggies, right?" you asked, not wanting to waste food or your brother's hard-earned money. "I- I can put some back if you want me to."

"Nope, it's all good. We can always freeze the bananas if they go bad for smoothies or banana bread. And, we can always turn the apples into apple sauce. Spinach and kale freeze well, too and you can't even taste them if we put them in smoothies."

"How do you know this stuff?" you asked.

"I used to watch Mom cook a lot when I was little. And, when I moved out on my own, she gave me a copy of a cookbook she always used. Said the recipes at the beginning of the book were simple enough that I wouldn't burn my apartment down."

You laughed at the thought of your mom scolding Jay if his apartment got ruined from his cooking. "Do you still have it?" you asked. "The cookbook, I mean."

"I do."

"Can we make something out of it tonight?"

"You know, I think that's a great idea." He pursed his lips. "How about Mom's chicken pot pie? I think I have some frozen peas and corn in the freezer and we can use the carrots we just grabbed in it, too."

"That sounds really good. Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me." Jay paused. He figured now would be as good a time as any to tell you. "Uh, do you remember the day that we got ice cream and went and played soccer with Ben when you were little? The night that Mom went into the hospital?"

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat at the memory of that day.

"Well, she told me to take care of you. There's no way I would break a promise to Mom."

"She said that?"

"Mhmm."

"It's like she knew something was going to happen."

"Mom was a smart lady. Will had to have gotten it from somewhere and he sure didn't get it from Dad."

You laughed. "Hey, you're smart, too. Just not sciency smart. You're more puzzle smart because you put the pieces together of who committed a crime." Jay laughed at your description of his job. "Oh, is the recipe for Mom's garlic mashed potatoes in that cookbook?"

"It is. Want those as a side along with the salad you mentioned?"

"Yes, please...if it's not a problem."

"They're super simple and quick to make." He scribbled on a piece of notebook paper that he had written down a few groceries on, like the salad ingredients you had mentioned. "Alright, potatoes, a rotisserie chicken, and pastry dough have all been added to the list."

***

"I'll be back later tonight, no later than midnight," Jay told you two days later on Sunday night. "I know it's not ideal because you have school in the morning, but try and get some sleep while I'm gone, okay?"

"I'm used to being home alone at night, Jay." You shrugged. "I'll be fine."

"I know, it's just that not something I want you to get used to. Feel free to eat anything you want, cook anything you want. As long as you don't burn down the house, I don't care what you make. Oh, and remember to take your multivitamin before bed."

You rolled your eyes. "I'm fifteen, not five. Now, get going. Don't want you to be late to meet that lawyer."

"Love you. I'll be back by midnight. Lock the door behind me."

"I will. Love you, too."

With that, Jay left his apartment to go meet with ASA Stone and you locked the door behind him as he told you.

***

"So, Antonio told me you have some custody questions," Peter Stone said once he closed the door of his office.

"That's right," Jay replied as he took a seat in front of Stone's desk and turned his phone completely off and Stone took a seat in his chair behind his desk.

"Didn't know you had a kid, Halstead."

"No, I don't actually," Jay chuckled. "I have a kid sister. Name's Y/N and she's fifteen."

"Okay, and why do you want guardianship then?"

"When me and Will, my older brother, were kids, our dad kinda checked out on parenting us when we hit our mid-teens. But, we had our mom around, so it was okay. I went over there the other day because my dad was having some heart issues and I called Will. When I was there, I got a call of a robbery and it was Y/N. She was stealing food from a corner store because our dad wasn't feeding her," Jay explained.

"I see. So, other than her word and her stealing food, do you have any proof of this?"

"I know I should've called DCFS before letting her stay with me, but I couldn't let her stay there a minute longer, Peter. She's lost like 25 pounds in the past six months and she's deficient in both iron and vitamin B."

"Okay, what we have to do is petition for guardianship in front of a judge. I can help you with the documents and I can even represent you at the hearing if you want."

"Wow, yeah, that'd be great. Thank you."

"Anything else you want to tell me about your dad? Any physical or emotional abuse?"

"Not technically, but there is something else." And then Jay launched into all the information you had told him two days ago.

"Okay. And, you know your dad could theoretically press kidnapping charges against you because you took his kid without his permission?"

"I do. But he was basically starving her. No jury would find me guilty."

"I'm not going to argue with you about that one because I agree with you."

"So, do you think I have a chance of getting guardianship over Y/N?"

"In theory, yes. But, most judges like to keep the child with their biological parents. But, seeing as Y/N's fifteen, she does get some say in who she stays with," Stone explained. "When we have a custody or guardianship battle, we use the child's best interest standard. This means that you must prove that you are capable of providing food, clothing, housing, medical care, and a stable home life for Y/N. There will be one or two home visits before appearing before a judge, just to let you know."

"I'm aware of that. And, I just put an offer in on a new apartment with two bedrooms this morning and they're pretty quick in responding, so I should know in the next few days whether or not I got it."

"That's a good start. And you are financially stable to raise her until she turns eighteen, so three more years?"

"I am."

"Alright, let's start on those documents then. Unless you have any more questions for me?"

"I do actually. I, uh, I just found out that I'm technically still married. Something about me not signing the divorce papers even though I specifically remember signing them? And, before you ask, me and this girl served together, we were both twenty-one, going through rough patches and it was a Vegas wedding eight years ago. Lasted no more than twenty-four hours."

"It's really good that you told me this because any good lawyer would find that out when you file for guardianship. It's possible that she didn't co-sign the divorce papers. If that's the reason, I can help you draw up new divorce papers right now."

"Really? You'd help me with that?"

"Of course. A friend of Antonio's is a friend of mine," Stone said as he started typing on his computer. "So, what you can do is you can file for a no-fault divorce."

"You're gonna have to be specific, Stone. I know a bit of criminal law because I've had to testify in criminal cases, but like I said, I don't know family or civil law," Jay said.

"What a no-fault divorce is, Jay, is that you don't have to prove that either of you did anything wrong to get a divorce. All you have to do is state that your marriage is unsalvageable and continue filing for divorce."

"That's it? What if she doesn't sign it?"

"The divorce papers will be served to, uh...what's this girl's name again?" Stone asked.

"Abby."

"Abby. The divorce papers will be served to Abby and she has twenty days to file her response with the court. If she doesn't, then the court rules it as an uncontested divorce and then you're officially divorced."

"Me and Abby are meeting up to talk about all this tonight. But, can we just fill out paperwork for this no-fault divorce just in case things don't go as planned? I just really need to get guardianship of Y/N. The least amount of problems, the better."

"Of course. And if everything goes well with her tonight, then just give me a call and I'll shred the documents."

"Alright, just tell me where to sign."

***

"Wilson is running through the showers wearing nothing but a Kevlar vest, right?" Jay reminisced on the good parts of his Ranger days with Abby at a bar around 8:30 that night after his meeting with Peter Stone.

"Well, the lieutenant said, all outdoor activities to be conducted in body armor." Jay laughed at Abby's rendition of their lieutenant's voice. "Do you remember, he had his girlfriend's name tattooed on his ass?"

Jay set his empty drink down on the bar. "Did he tell you that was his girlfriend? That was his dog's name," Jay laughed.

"That actually makes more sense," Abby said. "I could go for another one of these."

"I, um, I shouldn't."

"Gotta get back to the barracks?"

"No, I uh gotta get back to my little sister, actually. I'm looking after her at the moment. It's a long story. Do you have the papers?"

"I, uh, I don't have them."

"Abby."

"It's just, I never told you. Even that crazy day we got married, I never told you that I loved you, Jay. It didn't feel right. But, I loved you, Jay. I do love you."

Jay sighed. "Abby, you deserve everything good. I'm just not the guy that's gonna give that to you." He brushed her hair to the side and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

After putting some money on the bar to pay for the drinks and tip the bartender, he left the bar. Guess he was going to need these no-fault divorce documents, anyway.

He was almost to his car when he heard someone calling his name. And, it was a voice he knew all too well.

"Erin?" he shouted as she came closer. "What are you doing here?"

"Would it kill you to turn on your phone? You need to get to the district. Now."

"What? Why? What's wrong?"

She got in his passenger seat. "Just drive. I'll explain on the way."

***

You were sitting on Jay's bed reading a book when you heard a knock on the door.

Slowly, you got off his bed and made your way out of his room. You took a knife out of the knife block, but you hoped you wouldn't need to use it. Jay would've told you if someone was planning on stopping over. And, if it was Will, he would've given you a heads-up.

The knocking got louder and more aggressive. "Jayson! Open this door! I have the right to see my daughter!"

Dad.

With the knife still in hand, you backed up and then, once on the carpet, ran back into Jay's room and quietly shut the door and locked it. You pulled out your phone and tried Jay. It went straight to voicemail. The pounding was getting louder. You tried Will. It went straight to voicemail because he was on shift. You thought you heard your dad starting to kick the door now instead of just pounding on it with his fists. You tried the last person you thought could help.

"Y/N?" Erin asked as she answered her phone and paused the tv show she was watching.

"Erin," you whispered. "I'm scared. I need help."

"You need help? Can you tell me why?"

"My dad, he's- he's here. He's looking for me." You heard a crash.

"Jay? Y/N? I know one of you is in here!"

"I- I think he just broke down the apartment door. Please help."

"Okay, okay, here's what you're going to do. I want you to hide somewhere and I'm going to call a patrol car over there right now. You're going to turn your phone on silent and I'm going to call you right back," she told you.

"Okay," you whispered as quietly as you could.

"I'll call you back in one minute tops."

You moved as quietly as you could with the knife and your phone still in your hands and opened Jay's closet door. You buried yourself behind the two garment bags that contained Jay's police blues and his military dress uniform, hoping against hope that your dad wouldn't find you.

Your phone lit up and it was Erin. You answered.

"Y/N, the officers will be there soon. I don't want you to talk. Just know that I'm on the phone with you."

At the same time, as she was talking to you over speakerphone, she was texting the team. She assumed you couldn't reach Jay or Will since you had called her. She told them what was happening and that a few of them needed to get to the district because they needed to find Jay's location. She also told Voight to get ahold of Sharon Goodwin so she could notify Will of what was currently happening.

"Chicago PD! Put your hands where we can see them!" you heard from your hiding place.

"See?" Erin said. "I told you that you'd be okay. I told them that you were hiding, so if someone opens the door, it's just an officer."

Just after she said that the closet door opened.

You squeaked.

"It's okay. You're safe," the officer said. "We're just going to take you down to the district. You're safe."

You peeked out from your hiding place and you saw the blues of the officers. You slowly made your way out and followed the officer out to the patrol car, the one that didn't house your dad for a breaking and entering charge at the moment.

***

"Where is she?" Jay yelled as he entered the district.

Platt just pointed to the bench next to one of the offices where you were sitting, staring at the floor, with a police jacket draped over your shoulders.

He sunk to his knees in front of you. "Are you hurt? Did Dad hurt you? Did he put his hands on you in any way?"

You shook your head.

"Oh thank God."

"I was so scared," you whispered. "When you and Will didn't answer, I thought he was gonna get me."

"I'm sorry. I turned off my phone when I talked to ASA Stone, and I forgot to turn it back on. I'm so sorry. C'mere."

You all but fell off the bench and into Jay's arms. "Is he going to jail? I don't want him going to jail."

"He was drunk out of his mind. I can ask not to press charges, though."

"Please. He needs help."

Although Jay didn't say it, he knew you were right. Jails and prisons didn't rehabilitate, they just taught criminals how to be better criminals. He knew that his dad needed rehab, a twelve-step program, anything.

"Okay, I won't press charges. But, I think we're gonna need to stay with Will for the night because our door's broken. What do you say we run home and grab some clothes to bring to Will's? And, since Dad will be here for a little longer, we can run to his house and get more of your stuff. Sound like a plan?"

"Can we get Dairy Queen on the way to Will's?"

"We sure can."

***

"I- I don't think any of these dresses will fit me anymore. They look way too big," you said to Jay as the two of you unpacked a bunch of your stuff in the guest room of Jay's new apartment. You wanted to think of it as the guest room for now instead of calling it your room just in case Jay wasn't awarded guardianship. You didn't want to get too attached.

Jay sighed. He figured you were right. He would see if Erin could take you, but their relationship was on the backburner right now. And, Erin had some stuff with Bunny she had to work out after she had brought her that pearl bracelet and said that she might be leaving Chicago. So, now wasn't really the right time for him to be bugging Erin about going shopping with you. And, he couldn't ask Kim because she was taking some furlough after finding her sister brutally sodomized after a night out.

He thought about asking Will if Nina could come, but he didn't think that those two were too happy with each other at the moment since Will hadn't told Nina about their dad being in the hospital and she had to find out from Natalie. Not Will's greatest moment.

He racked his brain for more women he knew.

Then it hit him: Gabby.

Yes, they had briefly dated, but that was five years ago. She was married now and his feelings for her were completely gone. They were civil with each other when they saw each other in the field and would chat when Gabby showed up at the district to pick up Eva or Diego.

"How about you try a few on after we finish unpacking, and then if none of them really fit, I can give Gabby a call and see if she'll take you shopping while I work on unpacking the rest of the house," Jay suggested.

"Okay. Will's gonna be over after his shift to help though, right?" you asked.

"He better be. He said he would. If he doesn't come, he better have a really good excuse."

"You can't unpack the kitchen without me," you told him.

"Why not?"

"I can't have you putting the glasses and other stuff on high shelves because I wanna reach them without having to climb on the counter."

"Okay, fine. I'll keep your short little height in mind while I unpack." He paused. "Do you want to get those fancy word stickers for your room for one of the walls?"

"Decals? And, it's not my room yet."

"Listen, after that stunt Dad pulled at my old apartment, Stone is 99.9% positive that I'll be granted guardianship. We just have to jump through all the hoops first."

"Like the home checks?"

"Like the home checks," he confirmed.

"What do I say in court?" you asked a few minutes later as you were putting the pillows on your freshly made bed.

"You just tell the truth," he answered.

"Will you be in there with me?"

"No, I won't. Stone said that usually in these cases you talk to the judge by yourself so that you can't be intimidated by either of the people who are fighting for custody or guardianship."

"So you won't be there? Will won't be there?"

"Will will be out in the hall and I will be in a different room. I'll be in like a witness room, where they make witnesses of a crime wait so that their testimony isn't swayed by what the other people are saying on the stand. But, me and Dad will be in the courtroom at the same time, just so I can see what he'll be saying."

"And, I'll be in there then, too?"

"Yes."

"What kind of questions do they ask me?"

"Stone said that since you're older, you get a say in who you stay with, so they'll ask you questions like who've you known the longest, who you feel safest with, who you want to live with, etc."

"Will they ask me questions about Dad? Like how he didn't give me food and how he broke into your apartment?" you asked.

"They will," Jay confirmed. "But, Stone will be in there for those questions just in case he needs to object to something."

"So the only time I'll be alone with the judge is when they're asking me the first few questions? Like who I feel safest with?"

"Exactly. Now, do you need help putting these books on the top shelf of your bookshelf?"

***

"Hey, how was your day?" Jay asked as he came home from work that afternoon. It was a shock that he was home by 5 pm, but you had a big day tomorrow. Not only was tomorrow Friday, it was the day you and Jay had to go to court to see if he would be awarded guardianship of you.

"We've got a problem," you stated.

"Um, I can try to help you with it, but let me go put my gun away first."

While he was doing that, you pulled out the slip of paper and the note that Gretchen Cunningham had written, saying that she wouldn't allow you to make up the test you would be missing because you had to go to court.

"Alright, what's the problem?" Jay asked as he walked into the kitchen.

"Cunningham. She's the problem...as always."

You handed him the papers and he read them over. "Yeah, this isn't going to fly. She doesn't need a judge's signature to allow you to take the test. I'll talk to the school tomorrow morning when I call to tell them you'll be absent."

"I hate her," you groaned. "She's so mean. And, I know what you're gonna say. You have to deal with people you don't like. But, she lost one of my assignments and told me I didn't turn it in and couldn't re-do it!"

"Well did you?" Jay asked. "Turn it in, I mean."

"Jay!"

He put his hands up in a sign of surrender. "I'm just saying, could be your fault."

"Yes, I turned in the stupid assignment. And, she paired me up with the stupidest kid in the class and told me to do well on this assignment because he needed a good grade to pass. It's not my fault he's failing! Don't put his grade on me, lady!"

"And she wouldn't let you re-do it?"

"Nope. But it's fine. I'm still getting an A. That might change if she doesn't let me take this test, though."

"It's like deja-vu from my freshman year all over again. Why doesn't she retire already? She's like 100."

"Or they could fire her," you quipped. "Or I could switch classes."

"I'll see what I can do. Who's the other history teacher?"

"Um, Miss Hedge."

"Hedge? As in Jayne Hedge?"

"Yeah, it's actually her. Why? Do you know her?"

"Yes he does," Will said as he entered Jay's apartment. "In fact, they went to freshman snowcoming together."

"How did you even get in here?" Jay asked, turning around to look at his older brother.

"For a cop, you're not that smart. You didn't lock the door behind you."

"I don't lock my door when I'm still awake. And, seriously? You just had to tell Y/N that, didn't you?"

"You guys can't just leave me hanging now. Tell me the story!"

"Fine," Jay grumbled and Will just laughed and sat down at the table, too. "I met her at school, obviously. She was on the freshman basketball team and I had winter weight training for the soccer team. I thought she was pretty and she was really smart, too. And, I knew that a bunch of the girls went to get Taco Bell after practice, so me and some of my friends decided to go, too."

"There used to be a Taco Bell close to school?" you asked. If there was, you'd never seen it before.

"It got torn down just after I graduated," Jay answered. "Anyway, we went to Taco Bell and I started talking to her and we talked a lot after practice. I'd walk her home sometimes. Then, I asked her to snowcoming and she said yes."

"So, why'd you guys break up? I know you dated Allie in high school."

"We realized we were better off as friends." Jay shrugged.

"And he realized he liked Allie more," Will added.

"Yeah, that too."

Will set a big bag of takeout on the table.

"Seriously?" Jay asked. "I thought we weren't going to do this that much anymore so we can get Y/N's vitamin and mineral levels stabilized."

"I'm sure she'd appreciate the break from your mundane meals," Will said. "And, I got us all side salads to go with the burgers instead of fries, so calm down." Jay gave him a look. "Fine, I got the side salads along with the fries. But, they're made out of potatoes, so they're technically a vegetable."

"For a doctor, you don't know much about nutrition, do you? And, my meals are not mundane."

"Dude, you'd have chicken, spaghetti, or grilled cheese every night."

"Not every night, just a lot of nights when I'd get home from the district late. I'll have you know me and Y/N have been making really good diners lately. Wanna tell Will what we made last night for dinner, Short Stack?"

"We made this really good pasta. We used Orzo, which looks like rice, but it's pasta. And we made a sauce out of tomatoes, onions, and orange juice. It was supposed to be lemon juice, but Jay didn't have any. We put chicken sausage in it for protein...and spices of course," you told Will.

"That actually sounds really good. Wow, Jay cooking every night, not something I expected."

"I like it," you said. "And, he lets me play whatever music I want when we cook."

Will rolled his eyes. You had Jay so wrapped around your finger that he'd do almost anything for you. Will didn't think he himself was that bad, but deep down, he knew he'd do anything for you, too...despite not being in Chicago as long as Jay had been.

***

"So I got a call from Stone this morning," Jay said around 11:30 that night when he and Will were sitting on the couch, each nursing a beer.

Will set his beer down on the coffee table in front of him. "And?"

"And, as of yesterday at midnight, I am officially divorced from Abby. Turns out, they served her the papers and, since she didn't sign them and it had been twenty days, it turned into an uncontested, no-fault divorce."

"Congrats, man. Might've been eight years too late, but you're a free man now."

"Amen to that. And it came at just the right time."

"Yeah," Will agreed. "You nervous for tomorrow?"

"Not really. More nervous for Y/N than anything. I've testified in criminal cases, so I kinda know how this goes, but she hasn't. And, before me and Dad go in to plead our cases, she has to talk to the judge all by herself. I just wish one of us could be in there with her."

Will nodded. "Know what they're going to ask you?"

"I know what Stone's going to ask me because we prepped, but I have no idea what Dad's lawyer is going to ask me. Pretty sure he's got just a public defender, though. Hopefully, that works in my favor."

"Not always, man," Will disagreed. "The public defenders who do these cases only do these cases. They've had a lot of practice."

"You really know how to make me feel better, thanks," Jay replied sarcastically.

"Rather have you hear it from me before the case than someone else after. Are you going to get cross-examined?"

"Probably. Don't know what they're going to ask me though because it's a cross. Stone set up some sample questions for me to answer with him to practice, but I'm going in blind. I'm used to it though because I've testified before. But, this feels like my biggest case."

"Because it probably is."

"Are you talking about tomorrow?" you asked as you quietly padded across the floor towards the living room.

"Y/N? What are you doing up? It's almost midnight," Jay pointed out.

"I- I know. But I couldn't sleep. I'm scared. What if I have to go back to Dad's? What if they find neither of you fit and I have to go into foster care?"

Jay patted the empty spot on the couch next to him and you sat down. "We just have to trust the system. That's all we can do."

"I know, but I can't sleep. And I'm so tired."

"I have an idea," Jay started and stood up, "stay here."

"I'm gonna go look for some melatonin," Will said after a few minutes of you two just sitting in silence. "I think Jay still has some for nights that he can't sleep."

Will was still rummaging around Jay's cabinets when Jay came back with a big black box with some cords and a cardboard box balanced against his hip.

"The hell is that?" You quickly covered your mouth when you realized you had sworn. "Sorry."

"It's okay. And, to answer your question, this is VCR. And, I have a bunch of videotapes in this box." He turned from you to face the kitchen, where Will was still opening and closing cabinets. "Will? What are you doing?"

"Looking for melatonin for Y/N. You got any?"

"First of all, it's so late that if you give it to her now, she'll sleep through her alarm and we can't be late for court tomorrow. And, second of all, I keep it in the medicine cabinet in my bathroom."

Will closed the cabinet and made his way back to the couch to sit next to you as Jay started to hook up the VCR to the tv. "Uh, Jay," Will began, "you know it's a little late for a movie right? And, I should get going in like half an hour?"

"We're not watching a movie. I recorded a bunch of the Blackhawks playoff games on one of these and I thought Y/N'd like to watch the 2010 Stanely Cup final series against the Flyers. Or, we could watch the final series against the Bruins when they won the cup last year."

"Let's watch the 2010 one," you said. "I don't think I watched it because I wasn't into watching hockey as much as I am now."

"And you have Jay to thank for that," Will pointed out.

"You can record things on there? Like an old-school DVR?" you asked.

"God, now I feel old," Will groaned. "Wait until she learns about floppy disks."

"Floppy what now?"

"Nevermind. Only 80s-90s kids would get it."

"We get it. You guys are millennials."

"Got it!" Jay exclaimed as he popped the videotape into the VCR and it started playing. "Now, shut up so we can relive this, Will."

You fell asleep before you even reached the end of the first period.

***

You rubbed your eyes and then looked around you to notice that you were still on the couch. You craned your neck to see the time on the oven on the other side of the open concept kitchen and living room and saw that it was 5:45 am. Jay was at the gym now. And, you knew you wouldn't be able to fall back asleep because you were already starting to worry about the rest of the day. You had to be in court at 8:30 and had to be talking to a judge at 9:00, the judge that would determine who you would be living with, which would inevitably determine your future.

God, you were thinking just like the teachers talked about the SATs, how if you didn't get a good grade on that standardized test that your future would be ruined.

You stood up and stretched and then went back to your room to grab the book you were currently reading. Then, you turned on a few lamps and grabbed a yogurt and fruit from the fridge, along with a glass of orange juice. After wrapping yourself in a blanket, you started to eat and read, hoping that that would keep your mind from wandering and worrying at least until Jay got back from the gym.

Half an hour later, Jay unlocked the apartment door and walked inside, confused as to why you were awake. It was only 6:15 and he had told you just to be up by 6:45.

"What are you doing awake, Short Stack?" he asked as he grabbed a banana from the bowl on the counter.

"I woke up at about 5:45 and I couldn't fall asleep. I'm sorry."

"Nothing to worry about. I just want you as well-rested for today as possible. You have your dress all ready? Know what shoes you're going to wear?"

"Jay," you whined. "I picked all of that out last night because you told me to."

"Just didn't want you to have to rush. I can turn the game back on for you so you can watch it until you have to start getting ready?"

You nodded and Jay came over and fiddled with the tv and the remote, going back to the middle of the first period where he thought you had fallen asleep.

"Okay, I'm gonna take a shower. Will said he'll be here around 7:45. Oh, and you can take that history test when you get back on Monday, in Miss Hedge's class."

You smiled. "Okay." Then, you turned your attention back to the hockey game.

***

You widened your eyes as you stood in the second bathroom getting ready. You had gotten dressed (into a navy blue, lacey dress that ended just above the knee that you had bought with Gabby a few days ago), washed your face, brushed your teeth, did your makeup, but now you were cursing yourself for being so stupid. You had no way of doing your hair. You didn't have a straightener here. And, your typical ponytail or bun wasn't going to cut it for court.

"Jay!" you yelled as you exited the bathroom and knocked on his bedroom door.

He opened it as he was tying his tie. "Yeah? Everything okay?"

"I don't have a straightener! I can't do my hair and if I wear my hair like I usually do then it will look bad on you and--"

"Hey, hey, calm down. We've still got over 45 minutes before we have to leave. I'll give Gabby a call and see if she's not on shift and can let you borrow hers."

You sighed the biggest sigh of relief. "Thank you."

Five minutes later, Jay knocked on the bathroom door as you were brushing your hair. "Gabby will be here in ten."

"Oh thank God."

***

"Thank you!" you exclaimed ten minutes later as you opened the door, revealing Gabby with her hair straightener. And, behind her, was Casey.

"No problem. Just tell me if you're not used to it and need help."

You took it from her. "No, I should be good. Thanks, though. C'mon in. I'm pretty sure Jay's around here somewhere."

They came into the apartment while you ran off to find Jay.

You knocked on his bedroom once more and he opened it, this time completely ready for the day. "Gabby and Casey are here," you told him.

"Casey's here?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Yeah. I think he just came with Gabby."

"Okay. Go fix your hair. I'll go talk to them."

Twenty minutes later, you were finished and slipping your shoes on when you heard a knock on the apartment door. "I got it, Y/N!" Jay yelled.

Well, I hoped you would because you're closer to the door than me, you thought to yourself.

Jay opened the door, and since it was exactly 7:45, he was expecting to just see Will. But, what he saw both shocked him and made him want to cry from appreciation at the same time.

Standing next to Will was Natalie and behind them was all of Intelligence and Trudy Platt and Mouch, all of Squad 3 and Truck 81 (minus Casey because he was inside), Sylvie Brett, Chief Boden, April, Maggie, Dr. Rhodes, Dr. Charles, Reese, and Noah.

"You're all here for the court case?" Jay asked, stunned.

"Well, Natalie has to testify about Y/N's deficiencies and weight loss, but yeah. It's better if the court sees that the person trying to get guardianship has a ton of support. So, I figured I'd call in reinforcements...even though I'm pretty sure my big personality is enough."

Jay rolled his eyes. "Your big ego maybe." He paused, not knowing how he was going to fit everyone in his apartment even if it was bigger than his last one. "However many of you guys can fit inside, can come in. Um, some of you might just need to meet us at the courthouse--"

"Jay, they just came now so you could see how many people were behind you. They're just gonna meet you there. Except for me. I'm driving you two." Jay furrowed his eyebrows. They didn't talk about this. "I'll explain later."

"Gabby," you said as you walked out of the bathroom. "Can you--" you stopped as you saw everyone outside Jay's apartment.

"They're all here for you and Jay," Gabby explained as she stood up. "And, you can't cry because it'll smear your makeup, so hold back the tears."

You nodded as you held them back. "Can you, uh, check the back of my hair to make sure I got it all straight?" you asked.

"Two spots are still a bit wavy. Let's go fix it so you can get going."

A few minutes later, Gabby had fixed your hair and everyone besides Will and Jay had left and were on their way to the courthouse. You slipped on a pair of black ballet flats and your coat.

Will had explained that the reason he was driving was that if Jay didn't get guardianship, he didn't want him driving in such a distressed state. Will had worked on so many patients who were in car accidents due to their emotional state and he didn't want Jay to be one of them.

"Ready?" Jay asked you.

"As ready as I'll ever be," you said as you wiped your sweaty palms on your dress.

"All you have to do is tell the truth."

***

You thought you'd be comfortable inside a courtroom because of the crime dramas you'd seen. But, standing inside one was very different from watching a fictional tv show.

No one but you, the judge, the court reporter, Peter Stone, and your dad's lawyer could be in the room for this next part, so everyone was either in a witness room or waiting outside in the hallway for the go-ahead to be let in. You would be allowed to be in the courtroom while they were talking to Jay and your dad, but they wouldn't be able to be in the room when you talked to the judge...for obvious reasons, such as influencing what you would say.

"All rise."

You stood up next to Stone as the judge, who you now knew as Judge Callahan, entered the room.

Once you sat down, you were called to the stand. "Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help you God?" you were asked as you placed your hand on the Bible.

"I do," you answered.

"Alright, please allow Miss Halstead on the witness stand," Judge Callahan said. "Now, I'm just going to ask you a few questions. All you have to do is answer them. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand."

"Okay, first question: Has your father, Pat Halstead, ever hit you or physically abused you in any way?"

"No," you answered.

"Has he ever neglected to give you necessities, such as food, water, clothing, or shelter?"

"Yes."

"Can you please elaborate?"

You did. You explained how your dad never had food in the house and would yell at you and call you a burden if you tried to eat his leftovers.

"Is it true that your father tried to break into your brother's house to get you?" Judge Callahan asked.

"Yes."

"Who do you feel safest with?"

"My brother, Jay Halstead."

"Who would you prefer to live with?"

"Jay Halstead."

***

Jay sat on the witness stand. He had answered all of Stone's questions, including all of the questions about him finding you stealing, what you had been using for pads, and what he had been told that you had been eating at your dad's house. Natalie had testified about your physical well-being, weight loss, and iron and riboflavin deficiencies. But now, it was time for Jay's cross-examination. And, he sure as hell didn't expect this next question to be asked.

"Mr. Halstead," your dad's lawyer began, "you previously said, and I quote, that your dad clocked out on parenting you and your older brother, Will, when you were in your teens, around when you started high school. Can you elaborate on that?"

"Objection!" Stone yelled. "Relevance?"

"Speaks to a pattern."

"I'll allow it," Judge Callahan said. "Please answer the question, Mr. Halstead."

Jay nodded. "He clocked out on parenting me and Will because he said that were essentially grown men at this point in our lives, we didn't need him cheering us on or him helping us. He didn't come to a single one of my soccer games in high school. And, if by some miracle we went out for ice cream or something just me, my brother, and my dad, he wouldn't pay for ours. Said we were old enough to pay for ourselves.

"But, we had our mom. She came to all our games and school events. She made us breakfast, lunch, and dinner. If she wasn't there, I don't know what would've happened to me and Will. My dad didn't even want me to go into the military and didn't want Will to go to medical school. He said a real man went right to work. The only time I felt loved by him in all my teenage years was when I left for the military. It was like because he knew I might die over there that he figured he'd say he loved me one last time."

"Redirect, your honor," Stone said. Judge Callahan nodded at Stone. "You said that your mom made you and your brother lunch. Are you doing that for Y/N?"

"Objection! Relevance?"

"Speaks to Mr. Halstead's abilities as a parent."

"I'll allow it. Please answer the question."

"I actually do," Jay answered. "I make her a packed lunch to bring to school every day and I'm sure to add foods high in iron and riboflavin to help those levels stabilize quicker. The first time I packed her a lunch, she actually cried because she hadn't gotten a lunch from home in so long."

"Thank you."

"Mr. Halstead," your dad's lawyer started, "you were previously deployed overseas in Afghanistan for two tours of duty. While I thank you for your service, is it possible that you could have PTSD and hurt Y/N in the middle of the night?"

"I would never hurt her!"

"While you are fully conscious, maybe. But, while you are in a sleep-addled state, isn't it possible that you might think that the person waking you up is an enemy soldier and not your little sister?"

Jay sighed. No one knew this about him, not you, not Will, not his dad. No one. And now all of his family and closest friends were going to know since they were in the courtroom watching this entire thing unfold.

"I am on Prazosin for nightmares caused by my PTSD," Jay answered.

"And how long have you been on this medication?"

"For about two years."

"And this has helped you manage your nightmares?"

"Yes, very much so."

"No further questions."

***

"Jesus, Jay," Will said after you had watched your dad's testimony on why he should get to keep you. It was the usual: how he was your father, so, therefore, he deserved to keep taking care of you and it's what your mother would've wanted...despite her telling Jay to keep you safe before she died. They already had the responding officers testify about the break-in, so he couldn't deny that and he was under oath, so if anyone found out he lied, then your dad would be held in contempt.

"I'm sorry I never told you, man," Jay said. "I just, I thought of it as weak that I couldn't deal with my own shit." He grimaced when he realized he had sworn around you. "Sorry, Y/N."

"It's okay. I hear that stuff at school."

"I'm just upset you didn't tell me they were getting that bad, Jay," Will lamented. "I know I wasn't there for you a lot after Mom died, but I'm here now."

Jay nodded, and Will knew he didn't want to talk about the topic anymore. You looked through the little window into the courtroom and saw that the judge was coming back from her chambers.

"Guys, I think she's made a decision," you said nervously.

"Whatever happens, me and Jay will be there for you," Will promised.

All you could do at this point was nod, as a lump was forming in your throat from all your nerves.

Jay led you back into the courtroom and you sat at the front, between Jay and Will. You wiped your sweaty palms on your dress and Jay gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Judge Callahan stood up.

"By using the child's best interest standard of who can provide food, clothing, housing, education, medical care, and a stable home life for Y/N Halstead, I declare Mr. Jay Halstead the legal guardian of Y/N Halstead."

You could've sworn that you stopped breathing the second she said Jay's first name. You were so overwhelmed that you just turned to him and started crying as he wrapped an arm around you while he listened to the judge state your dad's visitation rights.

But, you didn't hear any of that. The only phrase that kept repeating in your head was I declare Mr. Jay Halstead the legal guardian of Y/N Halstead over and over again.

Now, you knew that you'd always have the necessities when you lived with Jay. You wouldn't have to worry about where your next meal was going to come from or if your dad would be out until 3 am drinking. You wouldn't have to worry about having access to tampons or pads and not be embarrassed anymore to ask for some from school if you forgot to put any in your backpack that day. But most of all, you knew that you would be loved and cared for.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Did I make anyone cry with this one??? The blood draw scenario was actually based on when I had to go and get my blood drawn the other day and thought I was going to pass out, which is why that scene was so long. Anyway, thank you again for reading, and please reblog/like and comment and tell me what you think! As always, if you want to be added to my taglist, just tell me and I’ll add you!

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e

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[honeyhenry]

Sweet as Pie

With some much needed time off, and excitement crisp in the air, you had flown over to Jersey with your husband Henry for Christmas to stay with his family, and they had been delighted to have you both back on his homeland. You settled in to Henry’s old room, unpacking all of the gifts you had brought for his family. You knew his nieces and nephews were going to love you even more when they saw what would be lying for them under the grand Christmas tree in the living room. Secretly, you were their favourite - not that they’d ever tell their poor Uncle Henry.

The large home is tidy, but scattered with family members in every room, all feeling at home in the place where Henry and his brothers grew up. You’d been able to catch up with the relatives you didn’t often see, and promise to spend some quality time together over the holidays.

It was so sweet to watch all the children’s faces light up on Christmas morning. You were glad that you and Henry could be spared an extra few moments in bed, being the only childless couple in the house. Yet moments later, Kal had leapt onto the bed - much to Henry’s annoyance; “down Kal, careful now” -  as soon as he had heard the pattering of his small friends’ feet out in the hallways. And what Kal wanted, you usually gave him.

Which is why, at 6.45am, Kal dragged you and in turn, dragged Henry down to the living room where the rest of the family sat, with the kids lit up like the Christmas tree that their plethora of presents laid under, grinning to their bleary eyed parents who’d barely had a wink of sleep on the cold winter morning.

“You’d think after 6 years it gets easier” you’d heard someone murmur, and so you’d decided to put the kettle on for those poor souls. Luckily for you, 45 minutes later, you’re able to snuggle back into bed with Henry, warming your feet on his legs to annoy him. You kiss the offended pout right off his face, before feeling his beefy arms wrap around your waist. It’s the last thing you had recalled, as you dozed off in his arms only seconds later, feeling his fingertips rub against your hip softly.

------

The kitchen was bustling with about 10 bodies all completing their various tasks; cooking, washing, baking, roasting, timing and tasting. Well, you had kicked your husband out of the kitchen for sneaking a taste of your dessert before it was ready, chastising him out of the door. 

“You can either help properly or go and play with your siblings” you had bargained while he’d grinned, leaning against the doorframe. He raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down like you were a pastry he was keen to ravish himself; “But who is going to compliment the chef?”

With that, you’d folded your arms across your chest, blushing at his words. The cheek of that man was not lost on you, and it still got you every single time. 

And you loved him for it.

------

The meal was a total success. A wonderful soup starter, followed by a small appetiser, and then the most magnificent turkey. Feeding over 20 people - now probably closer to 30 if you were to include the children who were growing up so quickly in front of your eyes - had proven to be difficult, but it was a challenge the family had clearly tackled before.

You had been so excited to prepare the desserts, and present your dish. However, halfway through the day, somewhere between the main course, watching your nephews with their new toys, and the dessert course of the delicious homemade Christmas feast, you’d fallen asleep on the sofa completely tuckered out. Your legs rested on Henry’s lap as he’d covered you with a hand-knitted blanket that he’d once slept with as a boy. Henry’s mother speaks up, careful not to wake you. She has a gleam in her eye, not that you or even Henry notice, too wrapped up in your own cozy sleepy bubble together by the fire.

“Dessert can wait” his mother says to the gaggle of children and adults swarming the living room, “go out and get some fresh air.”

She turns to the children, specifically.  “Do not disturb your Aunt, okay?”

------

Your cheeks are warm as the fire heats the living room, and after a particularly competitive game of rugby with his brothers, nieces, and nephews, Henry quietly checks on you. He had left the room earlier when you had shifted your legs slightly, taking the opportunity to get some fresh air himself. It had indeed been a long day. His brothers had questioned your tiredness briefly, making sure you were well. With the knowledge that you were simply sleepy, they had begun to joke that you obviously just couldn’t keep up with the rest of the Cavills - despite having married into the family for 2 years and been around for the holidays for 4. Henry had promised them that you were fine -  that you still weren’t used to the long trip back to the island for the holidays. 

Not exactly a fib, he’d thought.

Kal was laid beside you, loyal as ever, watching out for anyone who may disturb your rest, sending a rumbling growl towards anyone who approached. Except Henry. 

While checking on you now to make sure you were still comfortable and resting well, he smiled, taking a picture of you wrapped up cosily by the fire, at peace in his childhood home, completely at rest and ease with him and his closest relatives. Petting Kal softly, he thanks him for looking after his mama so well.

“So?”

His mother, he hears. She’s alone for once as there was no one rushing to check for updates on food, no enquiries about the house, or any funny stories woven into a ten minute tale from her grandchildren. She’s alone, with her hands on her hips and her eyebrows raised.

Henry stands up straight. There’s nothing that can wipe the tremendously cheesy grin off of his face. He can’t even speak. Even after dessert had finished, you were the one who would be doing all the talking, the telling, the explaining.

“Mum-”

“Henry. She’s not ill. and i know you’re sensible enough to not be up the whole night with your wife...at least under my roof. So…?”

He looks over at your peaceful form, and then scratches his neck, blushing at being caught out, but also ecstatic that he can finally say something about it.

“She’s eleven weeks. We’re expecting a baby next summer”

With that, his mother almost leaps with joy over to her son, who she hugs closely despite the obvious height barrier. 

“Oh i knew it, I knew it! I’m so happy for you Henry, for you both. I thought, ‘She normally loves that bread for starter’, hm? Oh my boy! A father!”

With her proclamation, Henry finds that he has tears in his eyes as he holds his Mother close, finally glad that it’s not just a little secret between the two of you - well, the two of you and Kal, who had already been a stellar protector and big brother.

“We had planned to tell everyone after dessert…we’ve known for nearly 2 months and it’s been killing me that I couldn’t say. We’ve had to be so careful-“ 

“Henry?” he hears your quiet voice from across the room, as Kal’s collar jingles. He turns to see you sitting up from your nap with Kal booping his nose at your stomach. You’re scratching at his head, thanking him for being such a wonderful boy, while looking up at the two Cavills.

It takes less than a second for you to realise what is happening in front of you. Your jaw drops and louder than your previous call, you exclaim, “Henry you told her?”

“She worked it out! Practically forced it out of me.” he grins, holding his hands up as his Mother pretends to smack his arm.

You stand, watching not to step on Kal or any stray Legos that your nephews have left strewn across the floor, and walk over to hug her. She’s been so caring and kind since you’ve joined the family all those years ago, and you know that she will be an incredible Grandma to your little one. 

Breaking apart from the hug, you find Henry pulling you to him carefully, letting you melt into his side. Kissing your forehead he asks, for your ears only, “Good sleep? No pains? Sickness?” He has a small crease of worry between his brows and you always do your best to soften that small tense area with regular updates and sweet kisses.

“Yeah i’m okay honey” you reassure him, patting your stomach, “this ones growing up a storm in there”. 

And they really are. Henry’s mother cannot believe she’s seeing it, and mostly can’t believe she missed it. You’re already showing, but a large loose sweater -probably one of Henry’s old ones that has since become yours - over your dress, has hidden a sizeable roundness to your stomach that you were excited to finally show.

“How did I miss this!” Your mother-in-law gasps, causing you to grin, and Henry’s chest to puff with utter pride and excitement.

“I know it’s bordering on having too much to eat, but we’ve been hiding it for a couple weeks now. Doctor thinks that baby’s gonna be big. Just like their daddy.” You explain, giving your stomach another gentle rub, surprised to find Henry’s hand there on it already.

If you’d thought Kal was protective, Henry was another thing altogether.

He’s still grinning as you kiss him, before you pull away to speak more to his mother about all the details, especially when you’ll be coming over to Jersey again. Kai follows you closely, making sure you’re staying safe. He’s known that there’s something up with his mama, there has been for weeks, especially with the way his master looks after you now.

Henry, deciding to be sneaky while the two women in his life are currently distracted chatting, takes another taste of the dessert you made, now set out on the kitchen. The worst part is, he thinks he’s got away with it.

He realises he doesn’t the second you smack his hand from the dessert.

“Strike two Mr Cavill! Step away from the pie.”

“And if I don’t?” he raises an eyebrow, watching your reactions as you hold a butter knife in your hand trying to look at least vaguely threatening - failing miserably. “Maybe i’ll strike out tonight, hm?” he continues with that wonderfully mischievous glint in his eye, taking cautious steps towards you. “You look even sweeter than your pie with this little bump here. Maybe I’ll have a taste later after all.” 

Henry’s mother had not been right in her assumptions, for under her roof, you and Henry were not sensible at all.

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

please let me know what u think! i am v nervous to post but excited!!!

#henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill writing #henry cavill #henry cavill characters #henry fic #cavillry #henry cavill fluff

[kiss-inthekitchen]

of the jealous kind

summary: you and Harry are out at the local farmer’s market when a girl starts flirting with you and Harry gets jealous. only thing is, you don’t exactly realize she’s flirting with you. classic wlw vibes, am i right ladies? (please say yes)

my submission for @bopbopstyles and @harrysclementines bi-ficathon!

a/n: fun times with Harry calling you “his girl” and being just a bit pathetically jealous (his words!) also i might continue this...in a smut type of fashion... if y’all are interested

word count: 2.2k 

--

“Oh, let’s stop over there! I want to get one of those chocolate chip custard things,” you exclaimed, spotting your favorite bakery stand at the farmer’s market and dragging Harry along by your joined hands. 

“A’right, love, m’comin,” he laughed, trying to keep in step with your suddenly quickened pace. 

It was a Sunday morning, cloudy but not too cold, and you and Harry were visiting your favorite farmer’s market in town. You tried to come here at least twice a month if your schedules allowed it. Today, it just so happened, you both had the entire day free to spend with each other. 

Harry knew you had to look at everything the bakery had to offer before you inevitably bought the same items as usual (a good, crusty country loaf and the same danish you never remembered the name of). There was a produce stand across the way that immediately caught Harry’s eye, a “buy 2 get 1 free” sign atop a display of various berries calling out to him. You noticed his distraction, the two of you speaking at the same time.

“M’gonna-” 

“Go on, then.”

“Know me so well, don’t you?” He gave you a soft smile and pressed a kiss to your temple before heading off in pursuit of his beloved fruit. 

You took the last few steps over to the booth’s main table, which held a majority of the baked goods as well as this week’s free sample: a garlic rosemary bread, cut into bite size pieces. You picked one up, on instinct taking a sidelong glance at the basket of your favorite pastries by the register, when the woman behind the counter finished ringing up a customer and turned to you.   

“Can I help you with anything, hon?”

“Oh, um, I’m just looking,” you answered, looking up at her. She must’ve been new, you thought, not recognizing her from your previous visits. She had dark hair, twisted up into a bun at the back of her head, an oversized t-shirt with a phoenix decal on it. Her name tag informed you that her name was Allie. 

“Alright, well, I will say that’s the best flavor we’ve got,” she gestures to the small wedge still held between your fingers. 

“Really? That’s quite a bold statement,” you smile back at her, appreciating her friendliness.  

“You’re gonna want to trust me on this one,” she said, nodding at you to go ahead. 

You took a bite, blushing a bit at the knowledge you were being watched and that she was awaiting your response. “Mhm,” you agreed, around a mouthful of bread. “Okay, you’re right, that’s better.” 

“Thought so. I have been told I’ve got very good taste.” 

“Well, I’m not surprised.” 

She made eye contact with you, the hint of a smile playing on her lips. “So, will you be taking a loaf of the garlic rosemary then?” she asked. 

“Yes, please.” Why not try something new, you thought. And she was right, it was delicious. You’re sure Harry would like it too, and you could just imagine the playful ribbing he was going to give you when he noticed you’d deviated from your usual order. “Oh, could I also get that-” 

“The chocolate chip danish? I saw you eyeing it earlier,” she said, picking one up with a gloved hand and placing it in a small paper bag. “That one’s on the house.” 

“Oh, you’re so sweet! Thank you.” Allie was really on top of it with the customer service. 

“Anytime,” she said, “Anything else I can get you?” 

“No, that’s all for me! Thanks again.”

She rang up your order, handing you the bag before speaking. “You know, we also come out to the beachside farmer’s market on Wednesday’s, if you’re ever in the area. I’ll write it down for you,” she said, picking up a business card from a stack on the table and turning it over to write on the back. 

“Sounds great,” you replied, mostly to be polite. You probably wouldn’t make it out, Wednesdays being a busy day for you with classes. 

Just as she was handing it back to you, Harry appeared behind you, fruit in tow. 

“Thank you so much, have a good one!” you said cheerily, dropping the card into the bag with your goods. You’d look at it when you got home.

She waved back. “See you soon, hopefully.”

You smiled as you turned around to see Harry already standing there, startling a bit at his unexpected presence. He raised his eyebrows a bit, but didn’t say anything as he put his free arm around your shoulders. The two of you headed back to the main walkway, and he waited until your new friend was out of earshot before he spoke. 

“So, yeh just gonna let someone flirt with my girl like that?” 

“What?” That was not what you were expecting. “She wasn’t flirting with me, Harry.” 

“Oh, please, love. Saw the way she was lookin’ at you. Poor girl. I’m sure you led her on.” 

“Excuse me, I did no such thing,” you scoffed. “And she wasn’t even flirting with me, so I couldn’t have.” 

He breezed right past your denial, having already made up his mind. You weren’t going to be able to convince him otherwise, you knew that by now. “Told ya before love, you come off very flirtatious. Almost feel bad for her.” He was smirking down at you, the bastard. “Almost.” 

“Being a pest,” you grumbled, shoving against his shoulder with yours to throw him off balance. 

He stumbled a bit, but recovered quickly. “Oi! ‘S not very nice, is it?” 

You giggled in response, loving when he used that playful tone. He tried to keep a serious face on while looking back at you but failed almost immediately, looking at you with such adoration in his eyes that you forgot what you’d both been talking about. 

“Anyway,” you sang, reaching out for his free hand and threading your fingers through his. “What did you buy?” 

His face lights up at the memory of his purchase. “Got strawberries, raspberries, and blackberries, plus some local clover honey.” 

“Such a sweet tooth, hm?” 

“S’pose I do,” he said with a slight smirk. “Ready to go home and eat, then?” 

“We’ve barely been here half an hour, H. Trying to get me home already?”

“Look too good today, love. Worried if we stick around I’ll have to beat the other vendors off with a stick.” 

“I thought we were done with this conversation,” you rolled your eyes at him playfully, but allowed him to steer you back toward the car park. You were getting kind of hungry anyway. 

--

You’re sat on your kitchen island at home, Harry placing the bags on the counter next to you. 

“Have a nice time, love?” He asks, moving over to you and situating his body between your knees at the edge of the counter. 

You drape your arms around his neck, thumb coming up to his cheek to rub back and forth as he leans into your touch. “Always have a good time when I’m with you,” you breathe. 

“That’s m’girl,” he speaks in a husky tone, before leaning in to press his lips to yours, slow and lazy at first. That is, until he lifts his hands to your thighs, sliding them around to your back and suddenly tugging you closer to the edge of the island, body flush with his. You gasp into his mouth at the action, and you can feel rather than see his resounding smirk. 

“Harry,” you pull back, attempting to admonish him but no one would know from the way your voice shakes. 

“Sorry, love. Know what they say, kitchen’s the most romantic room in the house.” 

“I don’t know anyone who says that.” 

“Y’do now,” he grins lopsidedly at you, and it’s all you can do to remember that the two of you still need to eat. 

You grin back at him. “You’re a dork, you know that?” 

“But you love me,” he responds, and you can’t argue with that. “A’right, I’ll take everything out and we can have a picnic in the backyard, how’s that sound?” 

Your smile nearly knocks him off his feet. “I’ll go get the picnic blanket!” 

He removes himself from between your legs and you slide off the counter and head towards the linen closet in the hallway. When you return, Harry’s taken out the loaf of bread and the danish, and is holding the business card in between two fingers. 

“What’s this, then?” He asks, holding up the bakery’s business card, logo facing you. 

“It’s just their card, the cashier told me they come out to another farmer’s market during the week and she was gonna write it down for me.” 

“Oh, she wrote it down, love.” In a second, he elegantly flips the card over in his fingers to show you the back. “But that’s not all she wrote.” Underneath the name of the other market is her name and, unmistakably, a phone number. 

“No!” you gasp, not believing he was right and you’d fucking missed it. 

“And you bought a new flavor bread?”

“Well, I-  Allie said it was the best one��” you trail off, trying to remember the details of your earlier interaction. Maybe Harry was right, you guess you did seem a bit flirtatious.

“Oh, Allie said, did she? That’s all it takes?” He’s kind of joking, kind of not, when it finally sinks in for you that you’ve, yet again, completely failed to notice when another woman was trying to flirt with you. 

“Oh, god damn it!” you exclaim, completely in your own head and you didn’t even hear what Harry had said to you. “I do this every time!” 

What’s left of Harry’s joking demeanor drops. “Every time? How often does this happen?!” 

“I can’t believe I didn’t notice again.” 

Your friends were gonna have a field day with this one. Three out of the four of you identified as bi or pan, though when you’d all become friends back in high school only one of you had actually been out. Now, you all joked that you had one “token straight” in the friend group. 

“Y/N?!”

“I know, H, can you give me just a moment, I’m trying to come to terms with the fact that I’m apparently a raging stereotype,” you reply, laughing at yourself a bit for being so predictable. 

“Oh, of course, don't mind me. I’ll just be here. Waiting. Very patiently.” It’s a wonder he doesn’t start tapping his foot, clearly the farthest thing from patient right now. 

You snap back to attention, realizing that if you don’t stop Harry he’s just going to keep spiraling. “You do know I’m dating you, right?”

“Do I?” 

“Oh, come on. You’re being such a baby about this!” 

“Oi! I am not!” He huffs, and you can just picture him as an indignant toddler, standing with his arms folded and a deep frown set on his face. 

You hold back a laugh at the image you’ve conjured, closing the distance between the two of you. “Baby, I love you,” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek.“You know I do.” His jaw. “Why don’t we just throw that out, hm?” You kiss his lips this time, reaching for the card and plucking it from his fingers before tossing it away from you.  

“I guess,” he grumbles as you pull away, but you can tell he’s not quite over it. 

You rest your chin against his chest, looking up at him with your best puppy dog eyes. “You don’t believe me, gorgeous? Need me to prove it to you?” 

“Maybe,” he mumbles, and you know that you’ve brought him back from his little jealousy spiral at the mere suggestion, so you decide to make him wait for it. Just a little while.  

“More than happy to,” you murmur, tracing your fingertips over the back of his hand. “Only thing is, you’re gonna have to have this picnic with me first,” you reach behind him for the blanket, “and you have to stop pouting.” You step around him, laughing as you run toward the glass door that leads to the yard.

“M’not pouting,” he lies to the empty kitchen as he grabs the rest of the food and some utensils before following you outside. 

His mood is definitely lifted, though, when he comes outside to find you seated on the blanket already, grinning widely at him and holding your arms out for him to crawl into. 

Maybe he had been just a tad bit dramatic. 

--

About half the bread is gone now, a bowl of honeyed berries and a plate full of crumbs resting on the cloth-covered grass next to you. Harry’s shifted so he’s laying down with his head resting on your soft thighs, with you carding your fingers through his short curls, just enjoying each other’s company. 

“Wait a minute,” you break the comfortable silence, a thought suddenly popping into your mind. “Other people flirt with you all the time! Sometimes right in front of me!” 

“And?” he muses, reluctantly sitting up in order to face you. 

“And! I never get jealous like that!” 

“I know. Rather insulting, if you ask me. You can get possessive, love. I certainly won’t mind it.”

#hsbificathon #i finally got it done and i am very happy to be Participating #thank u #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #to be so lonely #my fics

[winter-fox-queen]

The Gentry’s Gifts: Max Phillips

Hello!  This is sort of a sequel to the Pero story, in that we saw Max and now we know what he was doing there and what choice he needed to make.

Warnings:  Cursing. Angst. I had the trick of having to put both blank canvas characters into one story, lol.  But I think I finessed it.  The “you” character is a blank slate, mostly gender neutral (mentions of wanting to have children could sway your perception one way or the other.). Not betad.  

This is my late #writerwednesday entry, thank you to @autumnleaves1991-blog​ and @clydesducktape​

Prologue:

Max Phillips slammed the hospital doors open, eager to get outside.  The sound beeping machines seemed to echo in his ears, making them hurt.  The smell of the place stuck to the back of his throat.

He tilted his head back in the afternoon sun, and breathed in, breathed out.  Tried to make himself calm down.  The Autumn are cleared his head as he jogged across the road.  

“Bad day?”  A voice asked.

Between two benches, almost hidden in the orange leaves, was a woman, instead of the ‘Nam veteran he usually passed a few moments talking to.  Her wiry steel colored hair was in a messy bun, covered by a turban.  She wore layers and layers even though it was a warm fall day.  “Where’s Raffi?”  Max asked.

“His daughter found him.  He decided to try living with her again.”

Max nodded.  “I hope it works out.  She wasn’t…apparently he isn’t easy to live with.  Bad dreams.”

“It’ll be better now.”  She said with such serene certainty that Max believed her.  He gave a little wave and walked away.  

He was back, twenty minutes later.  He put a chocolate shake in front of her, and a boxed fried chicken meal.  If he had known his folklore…which, sadly, he would become intimately familiar with, he would have understood her amusement.  Milk, bread…these were the Old offerings.  

Instead he shrugged, uncomfortable.  “What?  I figure everyone likes chocolate.  And I needed to eat, too.”  He sat next to her.

“How old are you?” She asked, though she knew.

He shrugged.  “Seventeen.”  He buttered a biscuit and took a huge bite.  He ate like he was starving.  “Why?”

“You seem to be awfully young to be hanging out with homeless people.  Where are your parents?”  

He shrugged again.  “My mom’s gone.  My father…”. He pointed towards the hospital doors with his chin.  “He’s dying.”  He hunched over the greasy box of chicken, potato strips and biscuits, eating like it was the only thing keeping him sane.

She sighed.

He looked at her, and she shook her head, and ate the food he brought her.  You are going to go off the rails Max Phillips.  You are going to go off the rails so badly and there’s nothing I can do about it.

The Present:

He entered the library through the basement, crept up the stairway.  The first floor was nearly empty…the university library kept late hours so that students could cram late into the night, but it was Thirsty Thursday and most of the students were elsewhere.  

He waited until you were focused on the book cart again, back towards the main floor, and got himself around the corner.  Then he pulled out his cell and dialed the front desk.

You now turned to go to the phone, at least he hoped so, as he disconnected the call and opened the side door to the area behind the circulation desk…

You were there, leaning against the cart, arms folded.  “Nice try, but I know your tricks, Mister Phillips.”

He grinned and advanced on her, step by step.

“No no…”. You point a finger at him.  “Stay back, this is a work place…”. You shoot a look towards the front desk as he backs you into your office.   “You are going to lose me my job.”  You hiss at him, and he bends a little, and kisses you breathless.

“Quit.  I’ll take care of you.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders.  He’s cool to the touch.  It’s not disconcerting, not like it used to be.  “I wish I could.”

“Stop wishing...”

“If you say ‘and make your dreams a reality’, I’ll bite you.”  

Max looks offended.  “It’s a great slogan!  Do you know how many units of Losapill those golden words have sold?”

“I don’t understand how I can love someone so much and want to punch them so badly.”

He grins down at you.  “I can name several reasons why you love me.”

You smirk up at him.  “I’m sure you can…let me go, honey.  I’ve got to tell everyone we’re closing in half an hour.”  He listened to your voice on the loudspeaker, buttery and gentle and reassuring, and smiled a little. He could listen to that voice forever.  He could sell holy water to a priest, but so far all his skills had failed to net him the one thing he wanted.

He walks with you, as you check the restrooms (He even does the men’s for you on each floor, turning off the lights and blocking the doors open) and stands behind you, hands in his pockets, looking gloomy as you gently tell students to take their books to the front desk if they needed to check them out, that the library was closing shortly.

He waits, patiently, while you close up and lock the doors and usher the last people out.  

“I really wish you’d let me turn you,” he says when you are both in your car and on the way home.  Max often took the rooftops from his office to the university.  He was fast, and strong, and being fairly indestructible made him long for the thrill of possibly getting hurt, so he parkoured his way through the city once it got dark.  It was disgusting, how he looked so good after running and leaping five miles.

He shifts in his seat as you let the silence grow.  “Are you ignoring me?”

“Yes.”  You stop at a red light.  

“Why?  You said you’d think about it.  You’ve been thinking about it for a month.  Any idea where you are on it?  Like, from the scale of one to ten…”

You’ve been wanting to avoid this.  You’ve really been wanting to avoid this.  “Zero.”

She waits.  She waits for the torrent of salesmanship.  The spiel.  Why becoming a vampire and living forever is what she wants, she just doesn’t know it’s yet.  

For once, words fail him.  No quick comeback, no charming lines. “I can’t believe you don’t want to be with me.”  He says it so softly that you almost aren’t sure you heard it.  

You pull into the apartment parking lot, picks a spot quickly you can park and take his hands in yours.  “Max.  I do.  I really do.  But just…I don’t want to be a vampire.  I don’t want to give up the things I would have to give up?”

“Like what?  Death?  Getting old?  Getting sick?  Being weak?”  He pulls his hands away.  “I am offering you unlimited time.  Think of the things we can do together!  And you don’t have to kill…I haven't killed anyone in ages!”

“Sunlight.”  You say.  “Food.”  He makes a disgusted sound and looks out the window.  “A family.”  You take a deep breath.  “Children.”

He finally looks at you again.  “Then I won’t waste any more of your time.”  He raises his hand, and time goes wonky for a moment, and when things snap back into place, he’s gone.

You stay in your car a long time, hoping he’ll come back. Every step up to your apartment, you look around, hoping.  

It’s dawn, before you give up, dried out from crying, your mouth feels full of ashes and your heart full of regret.

The next day:

Max was not in a good mood the next day.  Usually he has a nice word for, if no one else, his PA, a miracle worker of a woman he’d always been fond of, but he just glared at her and slams his door shut.

Emails.  Reports.  He plowed into work.  

The door opened, and he ignored it, steadfast in the hope that whoever it was would go the fuck away.   I could always eat them.  I don’t have to be good anymore.

A cup thumped down on his desk.  He looked up.  He didn’t recognize the woman — her steel grey hair was neat, her suit elegant.  Her heart beat strangely, and he could tell she was not — quite—human.  Great.  Someone new from corporate?

“I thought you said that everyone loves chocolate?”  She said, pointing at the milkshake.  “You’ve come far, since we last spoke outside the hospital…”

He shook his head.  “I remember you, but…”. How did she come to be here? Why? His brain was still trying to match up the homeless lady with the epitome of corporate flash in front of him.  

“Now, I didn’t say you moved in a good direction.  How did the sweet boy who spent his last twenty on dinner for himself and a homeless woman end up being a bloodsucking asshole selling fake products?”

“It’s a long story. Let’s schedule an appointment, maybe for the next century?”

“Nope.”  She reached across the desk.  “You gonna drink this?”

He shook his head and she took the milkshake, leaned back in her chair, moving the straw back and forth in the lid, making an annoying shriek sound that hurt his ears.  

“Do you think I wanted this?”  He snapped at her.  Vampires didn’t really need much in the way of sleep, but he was tired.  Tired and hurt.  “And who gives you the right to fucking judge me?”

“I’m one of the gentry,” she said.  “That doesn’t give me the right, but it gives me the power.”

“You’re fae.  That explains it.  You don’t seem human.”  

“I thought they taught you the rules.  You never call us out so clearly.  Always call us by some euphemism and hope we don’t take a notion to turn our attention towards you.”

He threw up his hands.  “Why?  Why does it matter?”

“Because if I wanted to, Max Phillips, I could turn you back into the weak, dying, foolish mortal you once were.”

This stopped him.  “You could?”  He said carefully.  

“I could.”

“What’s the catch?”

She smiled.  “Good boy.  Maybe they did teach you something, after all.”  She put the milkshake on the desk.  ”You were…what?  Twenty, twenty one when you got turned?  I could, if I wanted to, make it as if you never got turned.  I could choose for you to age to the age you should be, had you not cheated death…or I could make you start from where you are right now.  If I was feeling so inclined.”

“Why would I want that?”  He scoffed.  “Do you think I want to get old and sick?  Do you think I want to spend the last year of my life in a hospital bed, unable to even piss for myself?  You think this is a fucking gift?  Enticing?  No.”

“So you don’t want a life with the librarian? Probably for the best. She is made out of sunlight and deserves so much better.”

He stopped.  He could feel the slipping…where the darker side of him started clambering up, eager to take control and rend and kill.  

“Hush.”  She said, and the blood stopped rushing in his ears, the fangs stopped aching.  “I shouldn’t needle.  It’s just so frustrating.  You were a sweet boy and you just allowed the bad in your life to make you…well, frankly, a bit of a jackass.”  She shoot him an apologetic look.  “OK, that was a cruddy apology.  But.  Back to the subject at hand.  Once, you were kind to me.  And if you do me a favor — one more favor — I will give you a choice.  A chance to choose a life for yourself instead of being a victim of bad choices and worse luck.  No strings.  No further price.”

He side eyed her a long moment.  He was intrigued, despite himself.  “What’s the favor?”

She took a small painting out of her pocket and slid it over to him.  “Another debt to pay…that woman has a soul mate out there.  I know where he is.  If you get her to my house tomorrow night, I can unite them, give them a chance at well deserved happiness.”

“Yeuch.”  He said, then picked up the painting.  “Wait.  That’s my PA.”

“Is it?  How delightful.  Isn’t just splendid how fate intervenes.”  She put a card on the desk.  “This is the address.  Hope to see you.”  She held up her finger.  “There is one thing.  She can’t know.  You have to get her there without her knowing why.  Alright?”

“Don’t hold your breath.”  He muttered.

“Good.  I am glad you understand.  Ciao!”

He picked up the card.  And cursed a bit.

NIght, in the time middle of nowhere:

“So, Mister Phillips…are you taking me out into the middle of the woods to murder me?”  His PA asked, laughing.  She didn’t know he was a vampire.  Telling people what he was hadn’t worked out very well at his last job, so he’d been much more circumspect this time.

“I promise, you are safe.  From me.  I don’t know what Corporate will do, though,” he said, turning down another road.  

“So, did they tell you what the meeting is about?”

“It’s meant to be a retreat.  All the heads of the various branches and their PA’s.  They want to re-envision the future of the company”. He took one hand off the wheel to put air quotes in the right place.  “Apparently they messed up your email address so we didn’t get the invite in time.  Someone caught it and called me directly.”

“I hope the place they picked is nice…”. She was looking out the window, trying to make out the road ahead.  “Carol in accounting is super jealous.  I think she has a bit of a crush on you…”

“Well, I am irresistible.”

“Mostly.”  She grinned at him.  A square of light grabbed her attention.  “I think we’re here.”

He pulled up to the house.  It looked sketchy at best, and the looks his PA were casting made him wonder if her trust was stretching a little too thin.

He got out and walked up to the porch.  The Fae came out this time wearing a chic, flowery dress.  She ignored Max and called to his PA.  “Don’t be afraid.  You are here so I can talk to you about your dreams…and by that, I mean the Spaniard, with the scar over his eye.”

The PA froze.  “You…you know about him?”  

“Go inside, dear, and I will tell you all about him.  But I need to talk to Max, here, first”

His PA stopped next to him, put her hand on his arm.  “Will you be OK?”

“Absolutely.  You know me.”

She went into the house.  

“Come here, Max.”  The Fae held out her hand, gesturing him to come up to the porch.  He did.  A card table was set up, with one chair.  Two cards lay face down.  “Here is your choice.  Are you ready?”

He stood there, looking at the table, and nodded.  Fear coursed through him, as strong as the day cold hands grabbed him from behind, teeth sinking into his throat…

She reached down and flipped over a card.  The Queen of Spades.  “Darkness ever lasting.  A vampire queen even now is looking for her equal.  She will choose you, and the two of you will know power beyond your wildest dreams…until enough people get angry about it and decide to deal with you both.  You will not love her, but who needs love when you have sex and death and all the power you ever hoped for?”

She reaches again, flips over another card.  The Queen of Hearts.  “And this.  This is life.  Your soul will wake up, and you will be twenty one and full of possibilities again.  Your heart will beat every beat that was stolen from you.  The slate will not be wiped entirely clean, but you will have a chance — a chance with your lovely librarian.  Children.  Be kind when you were once cruel, and live a decent, good life.”  

His lips were numb.  “How…how long?”

“Long enough.  You will not feel cheated.  It will be a plain sort of life, but it will be yours, and you will have the woman you love…some would say that is worth dying for.”

“What do you know about death?  Your kind just fade when they are tired of living.  You will never know the absolute fucking horror of your body betraying you.  The fucking humiliation that waits.  The pain.”

“No.”  She said softly.  “I do not.”  She kissed his temple.  “I am sorry.  If I had met you sooner, perhaps…but, in any case, I consider all debts paid.  When you are ready, pick up the card representing your choice, and rip it in half.  Choose well, Maxwell Phillips.  May we never meet again.”

He didn’t notice her leave.  He sat down, weak, at the table.

Life.  Death.  Life.  Death.  

He’d seen both his parents die terribly.  After he was turned, he’d mourned, then he realized the gift he’d been given.  No hospitals.  No lingering disease.  No pain.

His hand hovered next to the Queen of Spades.  No love, but power and sex.  He’d tried to recover, tried to be good, for you.  And he’d started feeling the guilt.  And with guilt, came all the excuses.  That he was living according to the nature that had been forced upon him.  That he was giving people a gift…they died, or they become something that could never die.

You don’t punish the wolf for being a wolf.

But that was why it had been easy to walk away.  Because you deserved better.  Not a vampire.  Not a wolf.  A man…

He did not hear the car, but he heard the thump of the other man’s steps as he mounted the porch.  

“She’s in there…”  he said, barely paying attention.  

When the other man left, he repeated what he said to him, in his head.  Choosing between life and death.

He picked up the Queen of Hearts.  His hands were shaking.  He ripped the card in half.  Darkness roared around him, pulled him under.

When he woke up, he was on the floor of his apartment.  

No.  His fucking.  College.  Dorm room.

“Dude, you started early.”  Evan’s stupid face appeared as he bent over him.  

Max wondered if he could punch him in the face.  It would feel really, really good to punch the other man in the face,

“OK, well, I’m going to an away game…see you sometime tomorrow.”

He put the palms of his hands in his eyes.  “Yeah…have fun.”

Evan stepped over him.  “See ya…wouldn’t want to be ya!”  The door slammed shut and Max raised both hands in a one finger salute towards it.

He made himself get up and go to the bathroom.  He looked younger but not better, per se.  What is wrong with me?  What’s this feeling?

It wasn’t just that he could feel his body working.  Feel breath (was breathing always so fucking noisy?) and heat beats and aches in his neck and back from laying weird on the floor.

He’d lived for years.  But right now, he was still the same angry, miserable hit mess of a man he’d been at this point of his life.  

A phone was ringing, he went and grabbed it.

“Hey Maxie.  Is Evan gone?”  Evan’s girlfriend.  Great.

Oh.  

“Yeah.  Yeah.  Look…”

“Awesome.  I bought the cutest bra and panties…”

And this is where, he thought, this is where he took the step to becoming the man you deserved him to be.  “That’s great.  But you know…I only want to fuck you because your boyfriend is an annoying twit.”

Shocked silence.  OK still an asshole.  Check.  So much for being a sweet boy when I was younger.  “Look. I meant what I said.  You are beautiful. You are probably far, far too good for Evan. Or maybe not, if you are willing to screw around with an asshole like me. In any case, you deserve better. But you have to decide what better is.”

This treated him to a string of profanity before the woman hung up.

Then, he walked to the infirmary, and asked for aspirin. And if there were any free spots for the therapist.

Sunday, the conversation between roommates went like this:

“So you were going to screw my girlfriend?”

A shrug — Max concentrated on the video game.  “Changed my mind.”

“Why?”

He paused the game.  “Because you deserve better.”

He felt Evan throw himself on the couch next to him.  “That’s rich, coming from you.”

“I don’t hate you. You’re just so fucking happy and peppy and optimistic and everything is going to be awesome but I think the world is shit and misery and maybe if you dialed it back a little I we could have conversations that didn’t end with me wanting to punch your face.”

“Dude.”  It sounded defeated and apologetic at the same time.

Max held a controller out to him. “Sorry. I’ll try to be less of an asshole.”

He took it.  “I’ll try to be less…happy?”

Max sighed.  “Just don’t get me kicked out, ok? I can’t afford anywhere else and I really don’t want to end up in Transylvania.”

Two years later, he decided he could go and find you.

Most people went to nice places on their spring break.

Max got on a bus and headed to a University in the next state.  They’d had their Spring break a week sooner.

There you were. Sitting cross legged on a bench with a man with a streak of blonde in his hair, and a suit coat with elbow patches.  Elbow patches.  Pretentious asshole.

You were tucking hair behind your ear. You liked him. Max wondered if he should leave, come back…in a year?  Three?  When did he have a right to become part of your life?  Did he even?

You look at him and smile and it is sunshine and he can’t leave.

The man on the bench says something about class.  “See you at work,” she tells him, and he lopes off in an easy walk to one of the brick covered class buildings.

Max approaches carefully.  “Hey.  Um.  I’m thinking about transferring here, wondered what it’s like?”

She shifted her bag over, even though there was plenty of room to sit, and he took it as an invite.  “Sure. What do you want to know?”

He gave her his best smile. “Everything. I want to know everything.”

#Max phillips #max phillips x reader #writer wednesday

[emilycollins00]

Two faces of the same coin

Pairing: Tenma x ghost-looking! reader Part 1.

Hey! I had this awesome ask from sadly ages ago which I appreciated a lot bc honestly, just the fact that someone sent such a detailed thing?? My heart.

Request: (...) Tenma finds someone who looks like they got out straight from a horror movie- They could literally pass as a ghost anytime of the day! But once he talks to them they are just an extremely chill introvert, and actually really thoughtful and considerate? (...) So yeah, imagine Tenma who once was shitting his pants whenever that person was around slowly starting to enjoy their presence and even better: fall for them.

Enjoy! 💕

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Classic horror icons and other disturbing creatures share common characteristics, pale skin, dark, sunken eyes, hunched posture, sharp teeth, and the like. These images inspire fear and revulsion in many with good reason. And while Tenma would insist he was okay with them- he really was and Yuki should really just shut up- he wouldn’t go out of his way to watch or read about that specific genre. And he was okay with that.

“A ghost in the school?”

He tried to not sound as worried as he internally felt, his brain still processing what Taichi was talking about while waiting for their drinks to drop. The redhead nodded unaware, eyes fixed on the vending machine “Yeah! You haven’t heard about it before?”

“W-why should I? It’s stupid to think paranormal stuff like ghosts exists anyway.”

With a clank, both drinks finally fell. Taichi crouched down to retrieve them humming happily, handing one of them to the summer troupe leader and keeping one for himself.

“I don’t know man, it’s kind of cool!” he crossed his arms behind his head, resuming their walk and looked behind. “What about you, Juza-san? You seen anything?”

The purple-haired boy considered it lazily, but ultimately shook his head. He didn’t seem too interested in the conversation anyway, and Tenma was pretty sure the main thoughts running through his head were today’s melon bread from the cafeteria.

It had been a while since their Ouka-high group had been able to have lunch together.

“Did you see? That Sumeragi Tenma is back!”

“Gosh, he looks so handsome!”

“Wait- don’t push me!”

“I heard he’s going to be a possible cast in that famous saga-”

“Are you serious?”

Whispers and tiny squeals kept circling them as soon as they entered the boundaries of the canteen. And while Tenma barely notices it at first, he can definitely see Juza’s stance going more rigid and Taichi’s eyes glowing at the attention received.

“I’ll go get our lunch” the golden-eyed teen announces heading towards the queue, hands buried in his pockets. He motioned Tenma with his chin. “You wanted set B right, no carrots.”

“Uh? Well yeah, but I can-”

“S’okay, you two go find some seats” he shrugged, looking around. There weren’t many spaces to start with and he’d honestly prefer focus on the food rather than the stares. “It’d be difficult to keep ‘em free with just one person anyway.”

“Roger! Come on Ten-chan, let’s go!”

.

.

.

“Aw, man. Everyone has their eyes on you as usual!” Taichi looked around, still indulging himself with all the people that were staring at them, some more blatantly than others.

How he didn’t get bored of mentioning it every time Tenma didn’t know, though he was low-key grateful. Not many people enjoyed being part of those types of reactions from a crowd- Juza for example-. When they finally managed to find some empty seats, Taichi placed his own bento on the table visibly excited. Tenma frowned.

“Since when did you start preparing lunch by yourself?”

“Ah, this?” the redhead laughed proudly at his confused look “See, I’ve been practicing my cooking skills! Tsuzuru has been super cool teaching me how to prepare some dishes for my siblings- plus, I’m sure I’ll get the attention of girls if they see my new talent!”

“Right…”

Tenma couldn’t decide whether he should make a comment as he took a long, thoughtful sip from his own juice can. Taichi’s lunch was a side of string cheese, a broken omelet, and some semi-burnt rice and it just didn’t seem very tempting.

He ultimately chose to leave it aside. Omi would surely know soon enough.

“So, uh, Taichi.”

“Yeah?”

He coughed, leaving aside the can and resting his back on the chair nonchalantly. “N-not that I care about that rumor, but- where is that ghost supposed to be?”

“Ah, the one we talked about? Mmm…” the autumn member caressed his chin, closing his eyes in deep thought. “No one really knows. It’s been spotted in pretty much all parts of the school” Tenma’s stomach sank at that. “But I’ve heard it likes room 1001 for some reason, you know, from the old side of the school? No one really uses it anymore- guess it makes sense!”

The redhead took again the chopsticks and started digging on the rice carefree.

“R-right.”

Tenma shook his head. Cool. Great. Now he knew which side of the school he would never even try to approach at least.

“Tenma-kun!” a female voice, not familiar, made him jolt from his seat. When he looked up a girl followed by two others were are already making themselves comfortable on the chairs next to them- one of them even deciding to sit on the table. “Hi there!”

Third years.

"Hi” he repeated.

“We saw your appearance in that new series, it was unbelievable!”

“Are you going to be a recurring character there? I’d love if you could ask one of the leads to sign a shirt of mine!”

He simply showered them a practiced smile. He could already tell what type of fans they were. It wasn’t something out of the ordinary- people approaching him about his shows or to ask for favors- and honestly, it was better not entering in that dangerous territory. “Thanks. Nothing’s been said yet, that’d depend on the company. I’ll be counting on your future support.”

They instantly beamed at his reaction. “Of course!”

One of them clapped her hand together “That reminds me, when is your next performance in that theatre company you play? I so want to go see it again!”

“Ah, that will take a while. We just finished a month ago so next up is the autumn troupe” he motioned Taichi with his head, a proud, real smile featuring his face this time “These guys have been going all out, you won’t be disappointed.”

“O-of course!” the shortest Ouka high student practically jumped into the conversation. “If you all want, we could ask for a few tickets from our-!“

“But Tenma-kun is not in that troupe, right?” the girls looked at each other confused. As if it wouldn’t be something it’d cross their minds to do, had the child actor not participated before.

“W-well, no but…”

“Plus, the summer troupe is hilarious! I kinda prefer those types of performances, you know?”

“I totally get you!”

From his peripheral vision, Tenma could register Taichi’s face growing red- a strained smile before sitting back on his seat, not trying to add anything to the conversation anymore.

Smile. Remember to smile.

“…We all give our all on those performances, I don’t think it’s fair if you have just watched the summer troupe. You’ll definitely enjoy it if you give them the chance.”

“Really?”

“I mean… If Tenma-kun says so maybe we could go take a look.” one of them gave a chuckle, playing with their hair. “You think we could ask you to get us some tickets for-?”

“If you are not eatin’ you should leave.”

“Uh? Can’t you see we’re-” the sentence died in their lips as soon as they turned and encountered Juza. Not that he himself was proud of his reputation, but during these situations at the very least it paid to see they knew who he was.

“Move.”

The resulting glare was terrifying in its intensity, and the retreat took no longer than a few seconds. No one mentioned anything afterward- Juza’s calm and blank expression coming back as he sat down, handing the summer leader his lunch and squinting down at Taichi’s.

“What the hell are you eatin’.”

“Hehe it caught your attention too, right? You see…”

Tenma observed them. They were acting as if nothing had happened. Not so long ago people tended to stay away from him for those same reasons, so it still took him a few seconds to find the words again- For feeling this relieved at their reactions.

He left the chopsticks aside. “Sorry this... keeps happening."

They momentarily stopped the conversation, sharing a silent look before turning to the teen actor facing the table in awkwardness.

“I-It’s okay, Ten-chan! They would obviously be more interested in watching you than an unknown performance” Taichi laughs and scratches the back of his hair. He seemed to be fine- a bit uncomfortable, but fine. “Besides, that just means we have to work even harder to be recognized, right, Juza-san!”

“Yeah, don’t get stuck thinkin’ ‘bout it. We ain’t losin’ any time soon.”

“Anyway Juza-san, are you sure you’re okay with only melon bread and pudding for lunch? I can give you some of mine!”

Juza didn’t verbally answer Taichi’s offer, merely staring at the burnt rice being held in front of him with skepticism “…nah. I’m okay.”

Taichi frowned at his own food, tilting his head confused. A few seconds later, he gave it an ultimate shrug before going for one more bite, Juza doing the same with his own lunch. Tenma scoffed at the view, trying not to smile amusedly. The autumn troupe really was made out of beasts.

“If Sakyo-san saw what you two are eating he’d skin you alive, you know.”

“Why.”

“What do you mean why, Juza-san you can’t expect-“

"Ah, that reminds me!” Taichi suddenly rambled, mouth full of rice “We should totally go to the arcade before we head up to the dorm. I heard they have these new games that are supposed to be super exclusive!”

Tenma winced “Can’t. I have a meeting with my homeroom teacher after classes.”

The other two replied with a similar expression.

“I almost forgot you came from a big shootin’ and all. We’ve been seein' you in the dorm pretty much everyday.”

“Yeah! Geez I always say I envy you, but dealing with that after working must suck!”

“You tell me…”

Taichi shook his head, giving him both thumbs up “It’s okay, we can go another time. Good luck though!”

.

.

.

“You can sit here. I’ll go bring your work in a second and then we’ll talk.”

With a lazy look on his face, Tenma caught a glimpse of his own reflection from a trophy case- one of the few resting at the entrance of the teacher’s lounge. He had never paid attention to them before; Second prize in a football tournament, first prize in some races and a few diplomas regarding different competitions, nothing too special. Ouka high had never had the best score regarding academics, which is exactly why he was able to enter.

Igawa liked to insist it wasn’t entirely Tenma’s fault he had so many troubles keeping up with schoolwork though- well, not more than the usual of not being good at studying. No one actually knew how hard celebrity kids had to push themselves- at least that’s what his parent had said. On the other hand, they hadn’t really cared much more, so long the school allowed him to be flexible with his schedules.

School time was usually done while moving sets and camera changes. He and other kids and teens were at different levels of schooling most of the time, so the teacher was forced to divide their time. Honestly, one would be lucky to get 30 minutes of full tutoring.

Anyway, it was rotten work and even Tenma knew it. He also knew what his homeroom teacher thought about it, which is exactly why he couldn’t help himself raising his eyebrows concerned as he saw the pile of papers being drop over the desk.

“Is this a joke?”

“I know you’re busy, but there’s a minimum to do keep up with your classes and… general results.” the old man frowned scratching his grey four-days old beard. He clicked here and there at the computer, probably revising the latest results of the tests they had done.

He then leaned back on his chair, trying to find a comfortable position before his wrinkly eyes turned to him again. “I wish I could think of another way, but you are getting quite behind everyone, Sumeragi-kun. We’re worried.”

Well, it was not his fault he couldn’t remember all the information they gave him like a script. Was it really the solution giving him the same amount of work as his classmates with half the time?

Before he could open his mouth to complain, the man placed his hand on Tenma’s shoulder. It felt heavy. “I already talked with your manager. It seems you’ll be having a break for a month and a half just before finals and I’d like to help you. We can’t have one of the biggest faces of the school repeating a year, can we?”

Tenma’s jaw clenched. Of course, everything was always for Sumeragi Tenma the actor. Student Tenma could go drown himself.

“Here you’ll find some reinforcement materials I think will be good for you to do in school. Less time wasted while moving and I’ll be here in case you have any questions.”

His face twitched. That would mean he wouldn’t be able to ask for Tsumugi’s help or any of the adults back in Mankai. “I actually-”

“Suguro-sensei, Someone’s calling for you about tomorrow’s meeting!”

“Is it that time already... I’ll be right there in a second! In any case, I would suggest you go work on the library Sumeragi-kun.” the man got up, finishing that way their conversation. “It should be quiet enough, but if you see any students being too loud, give them a call.”

Tenma side-glanced again at his workload, groaning internally.

Just about his luck.

.

.

.

Twenty minutes walking.

How could such a big school not have a single sign to indicate where things were?

Squinting his eyes, Tenma looked both ways across the hall annoyed, his already short temper from before increasing. He was sure the library was two turns to the right, then left, and then up the stairs from the teachers’ lounge.

...or maybe it was a floor down now that he thought about it. Damn it. It wasn’t as if he had ever stepped inside that place, shouldn’t they make it more accessible for everyone?

“This sucks…”

It had been a while since he had seen other students or even teachers around, which also made him feel uneasy. He glanced down at the paperwork in his arms, gripping it tighter. He hoped no one would see him walking around like this.

Just where was the stupid library?

It wasn’t until Tenma decided to try entering inside any room that would allow him to work, that he found many were strangely closed. He was about to gave up when he finally saw the dusty word ‘library’ at the end of the corridor. Finally. With effort he managed to open the heavy door, immediately pinching his nose.

“Ugh, stinks.”

The person in charge of cleaning the school really did a worse job than Matsukawa- at least the man cleaned from time to time and organized stuff. The place was an absolute mess; boxes over the floor, piles of books on chairs and shelves full of documents and other various things he didn’t quite distinguish.

Leaving everything on the closest table Tenma sighed when he felt his arms relaxing without the weight. Frowning, he walked around the place, smelling a mix of dirt and old- even some shelves were full of dust. Really, how did a school like this had such a gross place to study? No wonder students didn’t try to come here.

He should have asked for permission to take his work back to Mankai. Less danger of someone noticing he was behind his studies and it becoming a gossip- or worse, finding he had been walking without an absolute clue for the last half hour.

Yeah, he had more options to pass the year with Tsumugi’s help rather than on his own. Just looking at the amount of work he had he was sure it’d-

The faint sound of walking steps brought him back from his thoughts freezing him on the spot- all his breath trapped. He hadn’t heard anyone since he entered, but it shouldn't be surprising to find others studying.

I’ve heard it likes room 1001 for some reason, you know, from the old side of the school? No one really uses it anymore- guess it makes sense!

Or it was probably the wind. The wind tends to make noises, Tenma reminded himself while swallowing with difficulty.

Was the air suddenly thick?

Crack!

He strained to hear, his heart pounding loudly. “I-Is anyone there?” the nerves made his voice come out higher than he had hoped.

More cracks and sounds of steps. He couldn't see anything yet.

His stomach turned as his breath became louder. This wasn't happening. Yup! It was his imagination. What was happening could not be real, because ghosts didn’t exist. “I-I’m not afraid, you know?!” he shouted, positioning himself on a fighting stance while carefully moving backward.

That’s right- Tenma wasn’t scared. He had just rested enough, with or without a ghost in the room, and it was about time to leave. Ignoring his sweaty palms and nodding once more to nothing in particular, he turned around at the same time a pair of eyes made contact with his.

The figure opened its mouth.

And Tenma proceeded to absolutely destroy his throat.

_________________________________________________

This took so long though I’m not even sure If they are around. If you are love, I apologize! I found a few walls writing-wise. So not entirely to say I made it longer to make up for it but on the other hand... maybe. Thank you so much for sending such a nice idea so I was able to make this, really hope you like it. 💕

I promise this is a reader insert lol thank you for reading!

Part 2 soon!

#tenma sumeragi #a3 game #a3 tenma #a3! tenma #reader x a3 #a3! x reader #tenma x reader #a3 actor training game #reader insert #a3! taichi #a3! juza

[ninak803]

Elitist Nightmares

Here it is! I promised you a new thing & here it finally is! Thank you @whataboutmyfries for working on this with me! It’s so much fun & I love the ideas you’re giving me! Can’t wait to see what the other chapters will bring us.

This is a wolfstar thing, but there are also @lumosinlove‘s lovely characters in here! Thank you for creating them, we all love them so much.

So enjoy y’all!

Chapter 1

Remus

Remus was standing in the small, overheated office. He had goosebumps nevertheless, but they didn't come from the room temperature or because he was feeling cold. 

They came because of his new mission, which he had just received. He knew it would come eventually, just the when was unclear. Until now. 

And he knew it had to be him, he was the best for this job.

He tucked the inconspicuous folder neatly under his arm and blinked against the darkness in the room to make out his boss’s silhouette

“Be done by the end of this month, Lupin.” a low voice said.

He turned around without another word and left his boss's office.

Remus was packing his backpack when his phone rang. He looked at the screen but didn’t recognize the number. That was weird. Just a few people had this phone number; and he knew all of their numbers by heart.

He picked it up.

“Hello?” Remus said.

There was a short moment of silence.

“Is there Remus Lupin?” a male voice said. It sounded young, with a southern accent.

“Who are you?” Remus asked, disgruntled.

“Oh yeah. I’m sorry. I’m Leo Knut. Dumbledore gave me your number. I’m sorry. I should have said that right away.”

Ah. So he called on Dumbledore's behalf. It must have something to do with his new mission.

“How can I help you?”

Remus looked at his watch. He didn’t have the time to make small talk right now, so this Leo Knut better hurried up a bit.

“I get the feeling that Dumbledore didn’t tell you the slightest thing about me, did he?” the caller sounded irritated.

“Well, I don’t know who you are or why you’re calling me, so obviously he didn’t. And hurry up a bit, could you? I don’t have time for this right now.”

Remus knew he sounded unfriendly and harsh, but he wanted to start this new job today and for that he still had a lot to prepare.

“I’m sorry, I know, but I’m your partner for this mission.”

“My what? My partner? I don’t work with partners. This must be a mistake.”

“Uh… No. Dumbledore told me himself.” Leo said.

“Okay, okay. We shouldn’t be talking about this on the phone. You know where I live, I guess? Be here in 10 minutes, we can talk then.” 

Remus didn’t wait for his answer and hung up.

He sighed.

A partner? Dumbledore knew pretty well that he was working alone. He didn’t need a partner, damn he didn’t want a partner!

Damn it.

Remus finished packing his backpack. He had put a water bottle, a pen and a notebook in there. He still needed some energy bars and apples just if he became hungry. Just in case.

The doorbell rang, and he went to the main door to open it.

Remus scanned his visitor quickly with an experienced look.

In front of him stood an approximately 1,85m to 1,90m tall, blonde boy. Remus guessed he wasn’t even 20 yet. His smile was bright and his blue eyes friendly. He had a grey streak of hair; he noticed. He wore simple blue jeans and a dark grey shirt, nothing remarkable. Good.

Remus stepped aside to let him in, then he closed the door behind them.

Leo held his hand up for Remus to take it, then shook it gently.

“Hi. I’m Leo Knut. Nice to meet you.”

Remus nodded.

“Nice to meet you. Here. Sit down, please. We have some talking to do.” 

Remus led him to the kitchen where Leo sat down on one of the chairs. Remus took two glasses out of the cupboard, filled them with water and handed him one of them, then sat down across from him.

“Merci.” Leo said as he took the glass.

“You’re from the South. Louisiana?” 

Leo nodded.

“New Orleans.”

Leo then filled him in. 

Dumbledore had forgotten to inform Remus that he will have a partner for this mission. It felt more like he didn’t tell him on purpose, because he knew Remus would protest. He didn’t need a partner and Dumbledore knew this damn well.

But Leo also said that he was new to this, and he needed a teacher and there wasn’t a better one than Remus.

He sighed.

“Okay, okay, you can work with me.” The younger ones' eyes lit up at that. “But we need rules. First you do as you're told. No acting on your own. Don’t question what I’m doing, I give you explanations when the time’s right. You have to be on time. And you’re staying in the background, don’t complain about it. Got it?”

Leo nodded.

“Okay. Good. So you know what we have to do next?”

“We’re observing Sirius Orion Black, heir of the Black Family, 25 years old, next one in power.”

“Right. This will take us some time. We need to figure out his habits, get to know the places where he goes. We simply need to get to know him but, and this is most important, he must not notice us. Never. And then…”

“Then?” Leo tilted his head.

“Then, when the opportunity arises, I'm going to kill him.”

---

Leo and Remus agreed to meet tomorrow morning at 5:30 am again, then start their investigation.

Remus sighed and sat down on his bed. This job just got a lot more complicated than he’d thought. There was a reason he usually worked alone: It wasn’t the safest job in the world and if something went wrong, which it usually doesn’t because he was careful but you never know, he was the only one to get hurt and no one else, only his life would be destroyed. But now there was Leo, and he seemed eager to learn, so Remus just had to be extra careful. Maybe it was good to have a second pair of eyes to watch for once. This was the most important mission Remus ever received. 

The Black family were the ones ruling the country, Orion Black to be more precise. Officially his wife Walburga didn’t have to say a thing in state affairs, but everyone knew she was holding the strings.

They had two sons: Sirius Orion Black, their oldest son and heir to the imperium, and Regulus Arcturus Black, the younger one.

This country had a democracy once, but it was long gone now. The Black family was in power now for the 6. generation and they didn’t plan on letting go, if anything they just made their position stronger and clearer over the years. And they weren’t good for the country, they weren’t good for the people. The only thing they were good at was making themselves richer and all the other poorer. There was a huge gap.

The plan was to finally end their reign with ending their descendents and then bring back democracy to this country.

Sirius

He woke up to a knock on his door. The sun was already shining through his bedroom window; the birds singing noisily and Sirius turned around, pulled his sheets over his head and closed his eyes again. He really didn’t want to get up. If he gets up, he has to deal with his family again and he just didn’t want to.

There was another knock on his door, more persistent this time, followed by a voice:

“Sirius, open the door. It’s me. I know you’re awake.”

Sirius sighed and got up. He unlocked the door, opened it and stepped aside so James could come inside.

James, a mess of black curls and blind without his glasses. His valet, his bodyguard and, most important, his best friend. His only reason he wasn’t completely insane by now.

Sirius walked back to his bed and sat down, still just in his underwear and a t-shirt, but he didn’t care, not in front of James. He had seen him worse, much worse.

“You’re here to bring me today's agenda, I assume?” Sirius said with a still hoarse voice from sleeping.

“You assume right my friend.” James answered and sat down next to him on the bed.

James smiled at him, a gentle and honest smile, not like the false and mean ones he received from his parents.

He told him what he had to do for the day. Being at this meeting, showing up at that meeting, having dinner with his family and some apparently important people. If he was lucky, he had some time to himself between meeting number two and dinner today, so that was a ray of hope at least.

“And now you should get up, take a shower, put some clean clothes on and get some breakfast. Your parents are already gone, don’t worry. Regulus is still waiting for you though, he told me to catch you.”

James got up and headed for the door.

“James?”

The other boy turned around and looked at Sirius, an eyebrow raised.

“Thanks. For sticking around.” 

“Of course.”

James smiled at him again and then left.

After showering, Sirius went into the dining room, where his brother was still sitting at his usual place. 

The table was filled with more food than any of them could eat: There were croissants, different kinds of fresh bread, pastries and fresh fruits.

Sirius sat down and reached for the coffee pot.

“It’s empty.” Regulus said without looking up from the newspaper he was reading.

Sirius wanted to say something, showing his brother his annoyance, but Regulus spoke again:

“I already ordered fresh coffee. Should be here any moment.”

Almost at the same moment one of the servants showed up and filled Sirius’ cup with fresh, steaming coffee.

“Thanks.” he said, not sure if he was talking to his brother or the servant.

He drank his coffee and had some fruits before he noticed Regulus eyes lingering on him.

“What’s up, brother dear?” he asked him.

“This dinner today is important.”

Sirius rolled his eyes.

“Shut up, Reggie.”

“Don’t call me that. You have to behave for once, don’t be… just don’t be you. Behave.”

The anger rose inside of Sirius. He should not be himself? Then who the fuck was he supposed to be?

“Didn’t Mom and Dad have time today to give me The Talk, or is that why you’re doing this?”

“Oh, I bet they will do it later. Just listen to me, it’s important. This dinner is important for the whole family, okay? You’re part of the family. You’re supposed to be the heir, act like it then.”

Sirius got up and left the room without another word.

He wasn’t hungry anymore.

#wolfstar #oknutzy #Sirius orion black #Remus John Lupin #finn o'hara #leo knut #logan tremblay #remus x sirius #muggle AU #assasins #James Potter #hp marauders #marauders era #enemies to lovers

[lunaleen-writes]

After the rumbling [Levi x Petra Oneshots Stories]

AO3 Link

Main Characters: Levi Ackerman/Petra Ral / OC

Summary: [A canon divergence AU where Petra survided the 57th expedition, everything else happened the same, this is Levi and Petra’s life after the rumbling.

 They are married, opened a teashop where they also sell baked goods, in this chapter they accidentally adopt this homeless kid that has been hanging around their teashop and their small family starts growing]

Notes: Hello, the inspiration to write this came from this headcanon of mine. I will be posting more chapters in this universe eventually.

The kid had been hanging around the back of the store for a couple of days already, he never purchased anything or even attempted to step inside, he just hung out around and ate whatever they threw into the trash when he thought no one was looking.

The poor kid didn’t look older than 10. He ignored it at first. The kid wasn’t really doing anything wrong, and kids were like that sometimes. Maybe he had fought with his mother and didn’t want to eat her food, maybe he ran away from his house for a few days being a rebellious little shit.

‘’Levi,’— Petra said, coming back inside with a piece of bread on her hand —’ ‘’Have you seen that redhead kid? Do you think he’s lost or something? I tried to talk to him and give him some of this but he just ran away,’’ she continued, ‘’I feel bad seeing him eat from the trash, he's just a baby if you see him again outside, can you invite him over?’’

Sure, he thought. It was disgusting that he was eating food from the trash, but who was he to judge. He used to do the same thing so many years ago when he had been abandoned by Kenny and had no other way to get food.

A few days passed and there was no kid in sight, they both thought that he had probably gone back to his home and didn't think much of it anymore.

That day Levi had to run some errands in Karanes District, he finished faster than he expected and ended up opening the store about an hour earlier than usual. To his surprise he found the kid curled up in the storefront doormat.   ‘’Hey kid, wake up,’’ The kid opened his eyes and went from asleep to awake in one heartbeat. People that live in the streets didn’t have the luxury of sleeping peacefully, you always had to be alert.

‘’Why are you sleeping there?’’—He asked crouching beside him after opening the door ‘’  —’’ where are your parents?’’

‘’My mom, she died..’’ he mumbled nervously.

‘’Where do you live?’’ Levi asked, mentally shrugging when the kid responded what he already suspected, he didn't have a house, nor did he have more family or a place to stay. He knew what it was like to be hungry and not knowing where to get food. Not having anyone to ask for help, to sleep on the streets and be ignored by everyone

‘’What's your name kid? Are you hungry?’’

‘’Johan, Johan Roth  and I have no money sir‘’

‘’That's not what I asked brat, come here, you don’t need to eat out of the trash, let's get inside and wash your hands, I don't have all day’’

                                                     ⸻

When Petra arrived at the shop, hours later she found Levi attending to some customers and Johan sleeping on a small couch. Later Levi told him that the kid appeared to be an orphan.

‘’We can’t leave him like that.’’

‘’I know’’

                                                                 ⸻ They both bonded with Johan immediately, he was a well-behaved kid. He loved to help Levi clean around and to help Petra when she was baking.

They asked around the town to see if Johan had more family members that could take care of him but could not find anyone.  Afte that, the plan was to take him to one of the orphanages in a couple of days, the days became weeks and months.

They somehow always had an excuse as to why they couldn't make it to the orphanage.

                                                                 ⸻ ‘’Say, Johan, do you like living with us?’’ Levi asked one day not wanting to sound pushy. ‘’Yes,’’ Johan responded sincerely.

And that’s how their little family of two, became a family of three.

#SNK #rivetra #snkfic #rivetrafic #lunaleenwritings

[painless-innit-colourful]

‘Where I Go, Will You Still Follow?’ - A Clingyduo Fic from the Hunger Games AU

In the most ironic twist, I missed Tommy’s lore stream on Monday writing Clingyduo comfort/hurt (in that order). I wasn’t sure whether this fandom needed any more angst right now, but whatever, take this anyway. This fic is set in a Hunger Games AU where the characters of the Dream SMP reside in Panem and must compete in the Games. Only Tommy + Tubbo appear in this fic though. Angst reigns supreme on Reaping Day, where the boys face the possibility of being picked for the deadly Hunger Games for the first time. (Also I promise you don’t have to have read HG to get this.)

tw nothing really, they’re only being reaped here.

word count: 3102

On the morning of the reaping, two boys tread carefully through a desolate orchard.

At this time of year, the trees are mostly left to their own devices. In about six months their boughs will bear fruit, and there will be plenty of people scurrying to and fro beneath them collecting their bounty to be stored and sent to the Capitol. Those very boys will join them. However, on that late Spring morning there is no one about. During this season the trees require only the occasional pruning, and everyone’s still in bed this early anyway. No reason to get up on a day where you don’t need to. Public holidays like this are rare.

Tommy and Tubbo hold hands as they move through the trees. Old habit, they suppose, a defense mechanism against getting split up, for better or worse. With the number of people in their district it can make public gatherings hazardous for lonely children, and if there’s anything worse than getting caught alone in a stampede, it’s getting left behind in a chase. If one boy falls, so does the other. If one boy is caught with his hand in the larder, the other will be nearby. The two of them are a package deal: where one goes, the other follows.

They only stop when they’re sure they’re properly alone, deep in the orchard. It would take anyone hours to find them; it would take most people hours to get out from this point. But years spent traversing these paths - both from the ground and the branches above - have given them an instinctual knowledge on which way to go. They settle in beneath a large apple tree; lush and green now that the blossoms have since blown away. They go about unwrapping several grease paper packages that were previously weighing down their pockets as Tommy hums a tune to keep them company. Tubbo shuffles uncomfortably as they lay out a small breakfast of half a loaf of bread - dark and dotted with seeds, District 11’s signature - a petite disc of cheese that Tubbo suspects Tommy sat on at some point, and an apple each. Food they either squirreled away from the pantry at the orphanage or stole outright. The thought pinches Tubbo’s cheeks.

“What’s that sour face for?” Tommy asks him, flicking his eyes up every so often as he arranges the cheese on the bread with a tiny knife stashed in his boot and breaks the half-crescent of bread roughly in half. “You’re not still worried about getting caught.”

Tubbo sighs, and it tells Tommy all he needs to know. “C’mon! We covered our tracks and literally no one saw us.” When Tubbo’s expression doesn’t change, he puts a comforting hand on his friend’s arm. “Well, definitely no one saw you. I’ll take the hit for it, if they find out.”

“No, it’s- fine.”

“Your face says otherwise, my friend.” All the same, Tommy retracts his arm and finishes haphazardly spreading the cheese upon the bread. He nudges one of the apples towards Tubbo with his foot, “Here, start.”

“Excuse me, the apple comes after the main course, how dare you break tradition.”

“My apologies, my liege.”

The easy smile returns briefly to Tubbo’s face as they laugh, then quickly melts away again. Tommy fixes him with a sympathetic look. “What?” Tubbo asks, locking eyes with him as he finishes brutalising the cheese and hands him his half. “You’re worried about the reaping.”

“And you’re not?”

“Should I be?” When Tubbo gives him a sideways glare, Tommy shrugs. “Dude, it’s a tiny chance. Two in thousands and thousands. You’re more likely to get struck by lightning than have either of our names fished out of the bowl.” And though Tommy was likely skewing his numbers a bit, he supposed it was true. It was their first year of reapings and neither of them had taken any tesserae. They were about as safe as you could be between the ages of twelve and eighteen. Still…

“Besides,” Tommy continued. “If your name gets called, I’m sure someone would volunteer for you.” He barely makes it to the end of his sentence before Tubbo’s noise of dismissal drowns him out. “Yeah right. Let’s be realistic here.” Tommy leans back against the tree as he eats. Sunlight peeks through the branches at random intervals, illuminating him in softly glowing patches. He turns his head slightly and beckons Tubbo over with a nod. They shift their bodies and the food around until they’re sitting shoulder to shoulder between two large roots, and Tubbo finds that the sunlight is almost as warm as Tommy beside him.

They remain in that position for some time, eating their way through their swindled picnic. It’s a bit much for an ordinary breakfast, but it’s somewhat of a tradition to have something special on reaping day. Makes the hours standing in the square while the Mayor drones on about how it’s right to send two children to their deaths a bit more bearable. According to those traditions, you’re supposed to celebrate with a meal after the reaping too, though neither boy is quite sure where that convention came from. Not many in District 11 could afford it in any case.

At some point Tubbo drops a hand to the floor between them, and at some later instance Tommy places his where their fingers can interlace. “You’re nervous too.” Tubbo states without looking at his companion, instead remaining as he is, staring past the leaves to the clear blue sky. “No way.” Tubbo giggles at Tommy’s indignant tone. “A big man like me is not scared of being picked in the reaping.”

“Fearless he is, Big Man Tommy.”

“Too right!” They laugh, and the terror their giggles mask bubbles just beneath the surface, a pot mere seconds from boiling over. 

“Look, Tommy,” Tubbo’s voice becomes serious, and Tommy’s laughter peters out. “It’s all well and good laughing and joking about it, but… In the event one of us is chosen…” Their eyes meet and Tubbo squeezes Tommy’s hand, to which Tommy returns the grip. “I need you to tell me you remember our promise.” In response, Tommy sighs, drops Tubbo’s hand, puts that arm around his best friend’s shoulder, pulls him close and runs his free hand through his hair, almost all simultaneously. “Yes of course I remember it.”

“And?” Tubbo replies expectantly.

“And what?”

“Say it, you dummy.” Tommy places his free hand over his heart like a salute. “I, Tommy Innit, promise my dearest friend Tubbo Underscore, that if he is chosen for the Hunger Games in this afternoon’s reaping, I will not volunteer to take his place.” He waits for Tubbo to relax, satisfied, before tacking on: “Thus letting him be led away to a faraway place to be on television then get brutally murdered, also on television. “ He can feel Tubbo’s eye roll without even looking. “You made me promise the same.”

“Yeah I did, didn’t I?” He admits quietly, leaning his head against his best friend’s, brown curls obscuring half his vision.

“It’ll be okay, right?”

“Yeah.” Tubbo’s hair smells faintly of apples, somehow. Tommy squeezes his best friend and hopes he won’t have to betray him.

Unbeknownst to him, Tubbo has the same thought.

---

The duo spend the hours before the reaping as they usually do: sleeping in each others embrace somewhere they technically shouldn’t be, pretending the clothes they have to change into back at the orphanage are any better than what they’re changing out of, and hogging the second floor bathroom for way longer than necessary. The black storm cloud that is the reaping casts a longer shadow than previous years, but they manage to ignore it for most of the morning with enough shenanigans to fill their quota for the year. The clouds threaten to burst however when the time reaches half twelve, and the parentless teenagers of the district begin to make their way towards the square where the ceremony will take place. The once-blue sky darkens as the crumbling facade of the Justice Building comes into view, as if nature were waiting for her cue, and Tommy wonders if he jinxed himself with his earlier comments about being struck by lightning.

He’s holding Tubbo’s hand again - standard crowd procedure - and he’s thankful for about the millionth time that they’re the same age. They head with the other twelve year old orphans to the corresponding pen for their age group, and find themselves sandwiched in the centre. Tubbo exchanges a few words with some of their peers, most likely to be ‘Good luck’, but Tommy’s not really concentrating. The square is already full and still there’s many more people to come, and with every person that joins the crowd there will only be more cramming the possible tributes together like sardines in a tin. There have been crushes at reapings before; they tell them in school about the reaping for the seventh games, where too many spectators packed the floor and there was a panic that killed four people, including one kid in the crowd. In an ironic twist, their name was later pulled from the ball, and their escort had to be informed live on stage in front of the entire nation that they’d died earlier that day.

Decidedly, the odds were not in their favour.

Tommy doesn’t like to admit it, but tight spaces get to him. And here, packed in by bodies with camera crews perched high on the rooftops over the crowd, scanning for the faces that will leave the district tonight, he feels like a fish in a barrel. “Hey-” Tubbo’s voice reaches him through the din of thousands of people talking at once, but he sounds a million miles away. He practically crushes Tubbo’s fingers with his own, and, in retaliation, Tubbo flicks him on the nose. He blinks at him angrily for a second, the distraction welcome despite his show of annoyance. “Breathe, Tommy.” He forces air in and out of his lungs for about thirty seconds just to make sure he still can. Tubbo traces stars on the back of his hand.

By the time the Mayor’s stepped up to the podium and began his yearly recitation of the history of Panem, Tommy thinks he’s calmed himself down somewhat. Tubbo still traces stars in little pentagram patterns on Tommy’s hand with his thumb, and though it’s starting to get a little irritating, something stops him from signalling him to knock it off. He glances briefly sideways to Tubbo, and though his expression is mostly blank, the two have gotten used to watching each other’s tics and tells, signs that are imperceptible to anyone else but them. The small twitch at the corner of his mouth, the way he scrunches his nose slightly when he blinks, even the way he presses a little too hard with his thumb, his patterns becoming less uniform and the edges of his nails leaving little scratches. He’s as scared as Tommy. So he lets him keep doing it, for both their sakes.

The Mayor finishes his history lecture, reads the list of past victors and then finally introduces the District 11 escort, a spritely-looking man in a bottle-green suit called Montaque. He’s been the district’s escort for a few years, and Tommy and Tubbo used to joke his mustache was so spiky-sharp looking you could win a Games by using it as a weapon. He seems to glide across the stage as he gives a speech about District pride or some nonsense, then utters the classic phrase, “Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour.” 

He crosses the stage to the front where two glass balls sit, holding thousands of tiny slips of paper. A lump forms in Tommy’s throat. Somewhere in one of those balls there’s two slips of paper that could serve as their one way ticket to the Capitol. He knows they’re somewhat lucky: some kids their age have many more slips thanks to tesserae, but Tommy feels a pang in his chest even as he thinks about it. Some kids have parents. Some kids have somewhere to put their tesserae so it won’t immediately get stolen. He and Tubbo may have considered it, but what use would they have for grain and oil when on most days they could barely hold onto their bedsheets? It was one less thing to worry about.

Montaque the Stupid sticks one of his disproportionately-large hands into the first glass ball, and retrieves a slip of paper, and Tommy begs inside his mind, not us not us not him. He reads the name, and the entire world suddenly stops spinning. Somewhere in the back of Tommy’s mind is a lag, like when one person in a chain of people passing produce from a field to a wagon disappears. The chain does its best to keep up, but it’s very quickly overwhelmed, leaving debris in the form of dropped vegetables and a backlog that needs to be attended to.

That’s how it feels inside Tommy’s head as the crowd parts for him, a sea of people craning their necks as they shuffle aside to form a runway for him towards the stage. This can’t be happening. His mind can’t catch up to the fact, doesn’t want to catch up to the fact that this is happening. He glances to his side and immediately regrets the action, for Tubbo stands beside him looking equal parts shell shocked and distressed. Their eyes meet, teary and desperate, and Tommy only has the strength to mouth ‘Promise’, before his feet start to carry him towards the stage alone, and his hand in Tubbo’s becomes an outstretched arm. When they finally let go Tommy can feel the ghost of his friend’s hand in his own, and knows that it will be one of the last kind touches he ever receives. He tries not to think of that as he half-marches towards the veranda. He doesn’t look back for fear it’ll set him off crying, but if he were to, he would see Tubbo standing impossibly alone in such a huge crowd, holding the hand that held Tommy’s to his chest.

He mounts the stage and looks out over the people of the district he calls home, a tiny voice in his head telling him to make the most of this last time. Last time. He searches for Tubbo in the crowd, spotting him easily by the empty pathway he just walked down being slowly absorbed back into the crowd. He can see even from here the tears shining on his cheeks, the way his whole body shakes with the effort of holding more back. There’s a couple orphanage kids looking like they’re trying to console him, and, if Tommy should weigh in, doing a pretty sh’it job. He looks away to watch Montaque snatch the second slip of paper from the glass ball, and he tenses every fibre of his being shouting internally please please please. The name is read, and this time Tommy finds himself still breathing and present as some older kid makes his own shaky way to the podium. He’s about fourteen, with a stocky build that betrays work in the crop fields. As he takes his place opposite Tommy, the young boy is reminded that the Games will be full of people like him. Stronger, older opponents. Tommy, at the monumental age of twelve, doesn’t stand a chance.

The moment lingers, and then it keeps lingering, and then Tommy turns to Montaque to find out why the da’mn moment won’t move on. He’s staring out into the crowd once more, and Tommy’s heart, already too heavy, drops straight into his boots as he follows Montaque’s gaze. The crowd parts once more, and Tubbo strides forward, a shaky confidence marking his every step. The murmurs around the square hush, as he comes to stand mere metres from the tributes. Tommy wants to catch his eye, shake his head, scream at him to stop, but Tubbo doesn’t look at him. Tommy knows exactly what he intends to do as he opens his mouth; Tommy mouths the words along with him.

“I volunteer as tribute.”

Now you’ve gone and done it.

Montaque, biggest pri’ck on the planet, waxes lyrical about courage and bravery while he arranges the exchange of the fourteen year old for Tubbo. As if he’d ever know what it is to be brave. As the Mayor takes over once more, reading the Treaty of Treason as he is bound by duty to do, Tommy tries to catch the attention of his best friend, who’s acting annoyingly aloof. He watches as Tubbo stares into the distance, looking alarmingly calm with the whole ordeal. Tommy wants to scream, and do a bit more than scream and call him all the foul names he can think of and demand he un-volunteer and why? You stupid bi’tch absolute idiot why would you volunteer when we had a promise, why did you betray the promise? Why? Why why why why why?

As the Mayor wraps up the Treaty bore-fest, he motions for the two tributes to shake hands. Tributes. Now bound unrelentingly for an arena where they will kill other people. Other children. Maybe even each other.

Tommy feels some comfort in how helpless their situation is. Odds are they’ll die long before each other are a threat. They’re going to be a team obviously, and Tommy’s going to protect Tubbo as long as he can. That’s what he promised him the day they met, and that’s what he intends to do.

They shake hands, and Tubbo finally looks at him. The tears have dried on his cheeks. They take a little longer than is necessary, conducting a silent conversation between them.

‘Sorry.’

‘I am so fu’cking mad at you.’

‘You thought I would really leave you?’

‘I hoped I was wrong.’

They stand for the anthem. They are carted into the Justice Building to wait for people to come and say goodbye. No one comes. They weren’t expecting anyone anyway. They are all they have; all they’ve ever had. And where one goes, the other follows.

Tommy waits alone in the Justice Building, trying to figure out if the first thing he’ll do when he’s alone with Tubbo is hug him or strangle him. Beyond that though, he has to protect his boy. He has to keep his promise. An uneasy feeling stirs his gut. One promise has already been broken today.

And the odds aren’t playing nice.

#hell yeah i finally posted it #honestly i don't have a lot to say other than i hope you enjoyed #let's keep rereading the fluffy parts right?? anyway #i'm distraught over current events on the dsmp and this is how i'm coping #dream smp #hg au #tommyinnit #tubbo #dsmp fic #dream smp fanfic #crim writes #real proud of this one #all in one go. never written 3000 words in a day before

[iwillhaveamoonbase]

Love at First Bite

Rayla is taken by a client to eat at the Italian-Korean fusion place in town and falls in love with the food, and later, the chef.

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

Rayla smiled at her client as they waited for their server to come.  Her boss had told her that they had to keep the contract with the client’s company no matter what, and if that meant going to a Korean-Italian fusion restaurant that would probably be too spicy for Rayla’s Scottish, fried-food-loving taste buds, so be it.  The client, Ms. Danvers, had been hyping the restaurant up all evening.  “You said you like potatoes?  This place as amazing kimchi-style potatoes and potato pancakes.”

Rayla nodded.  “My grandmother is Irish and there are always potatoes cooking in her house.”  Rayla subtly looked around the dining room. The walls were mostly white with a few panels a beautiful red.  There was artwork on the walls, ranging from sceneries to portraits.  They all looked to be done by the same artist but Rayla couldn’t place a name to them.  The air was warm and smelled of spices and herbs and cheese.  Rayla could see a row of cheeses on one of the shelves.  “Do they use a lot of cheese here?”

“Korean food pairs wonderfully with cheese.  There’s a rumor that all the vegetables here are from the local farmer’s market as are most of the cheeses.  It’s fusion, but it’s as domestic as possible, too.”

“You’ve really been talking this place up.”

Ms. Danvers flushed.  “It’s my favorite restaurant.  I come here for lunch once a week and get take-away whenever I’m having a bad day.  This place is known for Korean-Italian fusion, but they make a delicious Thai laksa and a vegetarian Tom Yum that is to die for.”

“Really?”  Rayla didn’t know that much about Asian food, but she knew that Tom Yum was common in Thai eateries.

“The chef is a quarter-Thai and a quarter-Korean, his grandparents being from Thailand and South Korea.  He knows the flavors well and plays with them, but when he goes authentic, he’s the best in town.  He will also make almost any dish vegetarian if you request it.”

“How accommodating.”

A server came up, a smile on their face.  “Good evening and welcome to Sarai’s Place.  Any wine to start this evening?”  Rayla shook her head, surprised when Ms. Danvers asked for Thai iced tea for the both of them.  “And what can I get started for you?”

“Ms. Burrows?”

Rayla looked down at the menu again.  “Hmm.  I’m not sure what to get.  I don’t have a very high spice tolerance.”

The server nodded.  “Scale of 1 to 10?”

“Maybe a three.”

“Do you like kimchi?”

“Never had it.”

“Then I recommend trying the kimchi potatoes, if you like potatoes, or the risotto, which features chopped kimchi, sesame oil, and garlic.  The chef makes two kinds of kimchi, one mild and one spicy, so he’ll use the mild for you.  For the main dish, if you enjoy cheese, a pasta dish that has mussels, a Korean chili paste and tomato sauce, and fresh parmesan.  Everything that can be local, is local and if you eat vegetarian, the mussels will be taken out and instead you will get mushrooms.”

“My grandmother is Irish so I’m very snobbish with my potatoes.”

“I would rate his potato pancakes a ten.  He takes the traditional Korean recipe and adds parmesan cheese and some rosemary and its cooked with the house chili oil, so when you cut into it, it’s cheesy and subtly spicy.  The house chili oil is made with both gochugaru and the type of dried chilis usually used to make olio di peperocino.”

“I’ll go with the pancakes and the mussels pasta you suggested.”

“Excellent choice.  And for you?”

Ms. Danvers smiled.  “Did he make Tom Yum or laksa today?”

“Laksa.”

“I will take a bowl of laksa while Ms. Burrows is eating her pancakes and I will also take the mussels pasta.  Can we also get an order of garlic bread?”

“Of course.  I’ll get your Thai iced teas ready.  Anything else today?”

“What’s the dessert of the week?”

“Since it’s summer, mango pudding, Thai coconut pudding, and strawberry-lime cheesecake.”

“We’ll each take a slice of the strawberry-lime cheesecake.”  The server nodded and walked away after reading back the list.  “I hope you don’t mind me ordering dessert for you, but he only makes that cheesecake when the strawberries are in their peak season and it’s worth it.”

Rayla nodded.  “No problem, Ms. Danvers.  I wouldn’t really know what to order otherwise.”

They chatted while they waited, pausing when the garlic bread came to the table.  Rayla had been expecting the kind of garlic bread Americans seemed to adore, buttery and almost artificially garlic-y.  Instead, they got small, fresh loaves that had pieces of roasted garlic and thyme baked into it, served with the house chili oil and garlic that had been cooked until it spread like butter on the bread.  Rayla was impressed with the flavor and how the pieces of garlic were not overpowering.

When the potato pancakes came, Rayla could smell the spice but trusted the server had not led her astray, eyeing her glass of Thai iced tea just in case.  One bite and she was in heaven.  The cheese and the heat from the chili only enhanced the potato flavor as did the light smattering of soy sauce and vinegar-based sauce.  Rayla almost ignored Ms. Danvers when the pasta came, inhaling the dish.  At the end of the meal, once the excellent cheesecake had been finished, Rayla was in love with the food.  “Well, Ms. Danvers, I suppose I should be thanking you for introducing me to my new favorite restaurant.”

Ms. Danvers chuckled.  “It’s good, isn’t it?”

“I would marry the chef in a heartbeat if I got to eat like this every day for the rest of my life.”

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

Rayla brought all her clients and her coworkers to Sarai’s Place in the following months.  She tried almost everything on the menu, though she was still mildly terrified of the spiciness of the laksa if the smell alone was anything to go by.  Every Monday and Thursday, she got take-away and ordered the dessert whenever she ate in on Saturdays.  She was thankful she was single or else she would have to come here every week with someone and she liked dining alone in the quiet restaurant.

Sometimes, they played classical music, other times K-pop, and Rayla would always remember the night they had played an opera medley when several people with the Katolis Opera Company had dined that night.  The chef seemed keenly aware of who came to his restaurants at what dates and times and played music to fit their tastes but also made sense with the theme.

It was a popular spot with not only Foodies and high school kids, but a lot of Asian-Americans dined there.  Rayla had looked up the reviews and had seen it was highly recommended by the Katolis Korean and Thai communities, the Katolis restaurant circles, and the Commission for the Promotion of Local Ingredients and Farmer’s Markets.  No one said anything bad about Sarai’s Place without at least ten people defending the restaurant’s choices.

And now Rayla was sitting with her boss, Ahling Patel, and having to stop herself from inhaling the food in front of her.  The risotto was so satisfying and paired with chicken breast stuffed with kimchi, perilla, and ricotta.  “What do you think, Mr. Ahling?”

“It’s delicious.  I’ve always felt that fusion was a gimmick, but I’m sold by this young man’s food.  Young lady,” Ahling called the server, smiling good-naturedly when she nodded at him and finished up with her current customer.  When she came up to their table, she greeted them again.  “Is there anyway we can speak to the chef?”

The server blinked before nodding.  “I’m sure I can arrange it.  Dinner service is almost over and there are only you and two other tables.  Can I bring you dessert while I’m talking to him?”

“What do you recommend?”

“Our pastry chef made yakgwa, which are little honey pastries made with pine nuts, ginger, and sesame oil and they also made a yuja polenta cake and a play on Italian lemon cake, but with yuja.”

Rayla ordered the yakgwa and Ahling got the polenta cake and waited for the news.  Rayla couldn’t recall having ever seen the chef even though she came there at least twice a week, closer to three.  She hadn’t seen any pictures of him, either, surprisingly enough.  He was said to keep to himself and shunned the limelight, which is why he never made TV appearances.

A few minutes later, it wasn’t their server, but a man who looked be about 26 arriving with their desserts.  His green eyes were striking, as were his cheekbones and sharp jawline.  He gave them both an awkward smile as Rayla noticed his ring finger was bare and didn’t seem to have a tan line.  Was this the chef?  His coat would seem to say so.  “Nice to meet you both.  I’m Callum Evans, the owner and executive chef here at Sarai’s Place.”

Ahling smiled.  “It’s nice to meet you, young man.  I’m Ahling Patel and this is my employee, Rayla Burrows.”  Rayla nodded her head in acknowledgement.  “Your food is delicious.  How on Earth do you even think of this?”

The young man flushed, looking down at his feet.  “Um, I’m not that special.  Many people before me found that Korean and Italian food go well together.  Most of my recipes are riffs on family recipes and all my Thai dishes are family recipes.  I was originally going to go traditional Korean or Thai but there were no fusion places in the area and I’m part Irish and German on top of being a quarter-Thai and a quarter-Korean.  It felt…right, I guess.  I’m mixed and grew up with a variety of food cultures in my house, so why not do fusion?  Korean and Italian just made the most sense, so…”  He looked embarrassed at the praise, rubbing the back of his neck.

Rayla leaned forward a bit.  “I’ve eaten here at least twice week for the past six months.  I can tell you, without a doubt, it’s my favorite place to eat.”

“Thank you.”

Ahling cleared his throat.  “Are you single, Mr. Evans?”

Callum flushed even deeper.  “Ah.  Yes.  Being a chef requires long hours and running a restraint requires even more.”

“You need a good partner to help you find balance in your life!”

Rayla remained quiet as she watched them talk.  The only thing going through her mind was ‘I’m going to marry this man for his food.  I’ll eat well for the rest of my life.’  She stayed when Ahling said good night and while the restaurant emptied out.  Callum stayed at the table, fidgeting under her gaze.  “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“A date.”

Callum blinked.  “We have a sticky rice made with dates-”

“No.  A romantic excursion.  An outing.”

He gulped, looking her up and down.  “A date?  Really?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I fell in love with your food almost immediately after I tasted it and would like the chance to know the man who cooks it.”

Callum blushed.  “OK.”  They exchanged info and Rayla smirked as she left with his number in her cellphone.  There was no way she would be letting this one go.

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

After four months of dating, Rayla could confidently say that she was now just as in love with Callum the man as she was with his cooking.  Learning that his restaurant was named after his mother who died when he was in high school had endeared him to her, as had the knowledge that all the art on the walls were his paintings.  Was there anything he couldn’t do?

They were currently in Callum’s kitchen, him developing a new recipe while Rayla took down notes for him.  Even on his days off, he was always thinking about what he would do next and Rayla admired his passion to his craft.  When he brought her up to try the dish, she groaned.  “I will marry this man if it’s the last thing I do,” she muttered.

“I can hear you, you know,” Callum chuckled.

Rayla raised a brow.  “Then why haven’t you accepted my proposal?”

“Because you proposed to my food?”

“I hardly see the difference.”  Callum laughed at her, shaking his head.  “Hey, move in with me.”

“We’ve been together for four months.”

“Is that a problem?  Too short?”

Callum stared at her.  “You’re serious.”

“I told you; I fully plan on marrying you to eat your cooking ‘til the day I die.”

“So, it’s my cooking you love?”

“When have I hidden this?”  Rayla reached for his hand, pulling him closer.  “I’m serious.  Move in with me.”

“Why?”

Rayla shrugged.  “I’m happy when we wake up next to each other.  I like the idea of coming home to you or you coming home to me.  I don’t like sleeping alone, and, for the past month, the two of us have been alternating sleeping at each other’s places and it doesn’t make sense to pay rent on two places when we could be happy together?”

“That and I’m the only person willing to put up with your stubborn ass.”

Rayla gave him a mock offended looking, giving his arm a playful smack.  “You love my stubborn ass.”

“I do.”  Callum leaned down and captured her lips, letting her taste the dish he had been working on for the past hour.  When they pulled apart, he looked down into her eyes with his bright green ones.  “I think I love you.”

“That’s good, because I think I love you, too.”

Rayla would take that for now.  And in two years, when she would be standing next to him in front of their new house, matching rings on their fingers, and a very pregnant belly, she would remind him that he had his food to thank for their relationship.  “I fell in love with your food first.”

“I’m glad you did, because you kept coming back.”

“Lucky you.”

“Lucky me.”        

#moonbase fanfics #rayllum #rayllum fanfic #the dragon prince #au #love at first bite #this was just for fun

[saltlampsasuke]

Unfortunately, You Are Experiencing Symptoms of Falling in Love: Part 4

Having your long-term boyfriend cheat on you is pretty bad, but you're lucky enough to have a rich, pro-hero best friend who lets you move in with him until you get a new apartment. Except lockdown happens. And you can't look for a new apartment anymore, and you can't go anywhere anymore, and neither can your best friend, and you think you might be falling a little bit in love with him. Or maybe you've been in love with him all along.

The story of how it takes a nationwide lockdown for you and Bakugou Katsuki to finally get together, part 4!

warnings: Coronavirus mentions

wordcount: 2,208

taglist: @stargazerunlimited @luna-bloodrose​ @lov4kbg​

I’m not as happy with this chapter as I’d like to be and I know it took a bit longer than I said to get it out but I hope you all still enjoy it! We’re getting closer to the actual lockdown part of the story so I’m excited to start writing that! Also thank you all so much for giving me over 100 followers it really means a lot to see you all enjoying my work! Much love!

Bakugou woke up early, per his usual schedule, but a bit more sleepy than he normally was. Which was odd, seeing as he always took care to keep himself as healthy as possible so that he wouldn’t slack off on patrol or get tired in a fight. He padded over to his kitchen to make some coffee to wake up, and then maybe he would have time to hit the gym before work. But something was bothering him. What was he forgetting?

When he saw that the door to his guest room was closed, he remembered. How could he have forgotten? The events of last night came rushing back to him. Your call, the drive over, dinner, you sleeping in his room. He carefully walked over to “your” room, and pushed the door open gently, just a bit. There you lay, asleep, with a peaceful smile on your face. In his clothes. In his bed. Bakugou felt a weird pull in his chest at the sight of you. Seeing you in his clothes felt weird, not at all like how he had imagined. And he couldn’t lie, he had thought of you asleep in his house more times than he’d like to admit, but this was nowhere close to the scenario he had imagined previously. For starters, the reality was a lot more PG.

Not that he should be thinking about anything like that. If anything, you were even more off limits than you had been before when you were dating Takumi. It would be completely scummy of him to take advantage of you while you were so vulnerable. You had called him in a time of need, and he was going to be there for you, no matter how his heart pulled at his chest at the thought of YOU. In his HOUSE. He hated to admit it, but you made him feel things sometimes. But he wasn’t going to think about it, and he definitely wasn’t going to do anything about it. There were bigger things to worry about.

Bakugou checked the clock. The sunrise was just starting to blossom from a peek over the horizon to a full bloom of light, and he wanted to get the day started as soon as he could. Just the thought of your stuff sitting in that bastard’s apartment had him raging internally. If Bakugou had his way, you would be gone before Takumi even came back. Hopefully the bastard would never know what had happened, and he would leave you alone.

Bakugou tossed his normal morning smoothie ingredients into the blender, not pressing the button yet out of concern for disturbing your sleep. He could blend the smoothie later. You had to sleep, and while you slept, he would make breakfast. French toast, to be exact. With some strawberries and whipped cream, just the way you always ordered it from the diner you two would frequent when your various schedules permitted you to hang out. Maybe he would even be able to locate some powdered sugar in his Very Healthy cupboards to sprinkle on top. It was only after he had produced four perfectly golden-brown French toast slices, artfully decorated and arranged at the kitchen counter with a fresh glass of orange juice sat next to them that he pressed the button to blend his breakfast and wake you up.

The sound of whirring and grinding was successful in pulling you from your slumber. You stretched in bed, feeling more rested and comfortable than you had felt in a long time. Even the harsh sound of the blender wasn’t overtly disturbing, as you blinked slowly and stretched. You checked your watch. It was still early, but late enough that you were going to be late for your normal work start time. Not that it mattered all the much, you were more of a freelance worker than anything, and Katsuki was your main client, only trusting you with his gear. Your other work would wait for a few days while you figured out the new direction your life had taken. You walked out into the spacious apartment to see Bakugou leaning on the counter, drinking a smoothie.

“Eat,” he barked, pointing at the meal he had made for you on the counter. You looked up at him, still dressed in his clothes. He had to work to keep his expression steady

“Wait, you made this for me?”

“Well princess, I don’t see anyone else in here and it sure as fuck isn’t for me, so eat. I want to get out of here by 9.” You nodded, a big grin on your face, and dug in to the delicious meal that sat before you. Katsuki had always been a great cook, as you knew well from the few times he deigned to make something for you and the rest of the gang, but he had truly outdone himself this time. Everything was perfect, and you had to thank him.

“Katsuki, this is fantastic! I haven’t had something this good in months!” you exclaimed. He rolled his eyes in response.

“It’s not that big a deal, this kinda shit is easy. Now sit down and eat. No talking with your mouth full.” You laughed gently at his response

“I’m serious, this is so good, you have to try some.” You cut off a piece and pushed it towards the edge of the plate, urging him to take it. He shook his head.

“It’s not for me.”

“ You made it, Katsuki. Eat the damn bread. One bite isn’t going to dissolve your abs.” You could hear him choke back a laugh as he drained the rest of his smoothie.

“Fine. One bite.” He picked the small piece off your plate and popped it into his mouth. “You were right. It is good.” You smiled.

“Aren’t I always?”

“Just go fucking get ready. Your clothes from last night are outside your room. We need to get going.”

You got ready to head back to your apartment as quickly as you could, and Katsuki drove you over. The closer you got, the more nervous you felt. Your chest tightened up, making it difficult to breathe, and after Katsuki parked his car and stepped out, you tried and failed to do the same. He opened the door and looked down at you.

“What’s going on?” You refused to meet his eyes as you felt his gaze burn down on you.

“I’m nervous. I’m worried that if I go back inside he’ll be in there. I don’t want to see him again,” you confessed. You felt Katsuki’s gaze grow slightly less intense.

“He’s not gonna be there. You and I both know he’s too much of a coward to come back for a week, and you need to put him out of your mind. I don’t want to hear the shitty bastard’s name ever again after today. We’re gonna get your stuff, and then we’re never gonna come back. And if he is here, he won’t be for long, I can promise you that. Now get up. We have to go see Shitty Hair and Tape Face.”

The mention of your friends brightened your mood considerably. Katsuki was right. It was best if you just put “that bastard” out of your mind completely. Today would be a big step towards that. Your eye was drawn to bright red hair and frantically waving arms in front of the door to your building. Kirishima and Sero! The two men walked over to you.

“Fionnuala! It’s so good to see you!” exclaimed Kirishima.

“Yeah, even if it’s not under the best circumstances it’s really great to see you,” added Sero. You smiled sheepishly.

“It’s good to see you guys, too!” you said happily, nerves disappearing at the sight of your friends. Kirishima pulled you into one of his trademark hugs, and you let yourself sink into his embrace.

“I think I’m ready to go inside,” you mumbled into Kirishima’s chest, and he released you from his grip. The four of finally stepped inside the building, and you stayed close to Katsuki as you made your way to your former home.

The door unlocked with ease, and Katsuki stood with you as Sero and Kirishima checked the rooms for any sign of that bastard’s presence. As hoped, he wasn’t there. Now all that you had to do was grab your things and go. Kirishima and Sero had kindly brought over some boxes for you to put your stuff in, and since you weren’t planning on taking most of the furniture, Sero’s truck would likely be able to fit all of your stuff in one go. After a quick scan, you easily located the few pieces of furniture you had brought with you to the apartment, and Katsuki and Kirishima began taking them down to the truck. You made your way into the bedroom, where the majority of your belongings were, and started to pack them and label them with Sero.

Bakugou’s mind was still spinning as he carried your desk out of the building with Kirishima. Just being inside the apartment again was pissing him off. He would never tell you this, but part of him was disappointed that that bastard wasn’t there. Bakugou had a punch with his name written on it. It definitely wouldn’t look good in the press if they found out the number 2 hero had sucker-punched a defenseless guy, but he was sure it would be worth it. Kirishima’s voice brought him out of his violent thoughts.

“So, she’s moving in with you?” Bakugou opened his eyes, not realizing he had closed them, and exhaled.

“Yeah,” he said curtly. Kirishima stared at him.

“And you’ve been in love with her for how long?” Bakugou activated his quirk, slamming his arm down at Kirishima, who quickly hardened his skin out of reflexes developed from years of being friends with Bakugou. “You have to stop doing that, man! What if my quirk didn’t work?” Bakugou refused to meet his eyes.

“I’m not in love with her. She’s my friend, and she needs a place to stay. I’d let you stay at my place if you needed to too. So don’t give me that bullshit.”

“Ok, the second part might be true but the first part definitely isn’t. And you know it. You’re different with her.” Bakugou looked off in the distance thoughtfully.

“It’s none of your business, shitty hair. Shut up about it already,” barked Bakugou. Kirishima sighed. Bakugou had changed a lot since high school, but in many ways he was still the same emotionally constipated jerk he had always been. And Kirishima knew he was right, Bakugou was different with you, even if he didn’t want to admit it to himself. He just hoped that you rooming with Bakugou, even if it was as temporary as Bakugou had been insisting that it was, would finally get you two together. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that you two had always been it for each other, no matter how much the two of you refused to admit it, or even realize it. But Kirishima knew.

“Well you’re right, it’s your business man, but if you ever finally admit to yourself that you’re in love with her and want to talk about it, you can give me a call.” Bakugou frowned.

“Can’t admit something that’s not true, shitty hair. Now for real, shut up about it. We need to get the rest of the stuff down so we can say fuck off to this place forever.” Kirishima sighed and acquiesced, knowing that talking about feelings with Bakugou was a harder battle than defeating some of the strongest villains.

The packing went quickly, taking less than 6 hours, and as thought, everything fit in Sero’s truck. Once finished, the four of you stood looking in on the emptier apartment, taking it in for the last time. You were happy to leave this chapter of your life behind you, not wanting to leave any note or explanation behind for that bastard. He didn’t deserve to know what you were doing or where you had gone.

“Alright princess, let’s get out of here,” said Bakugou to you, throwing an arm over your shoulder and turning you towards the door. You slipped out from underneath him.

“Wait. Actually, there’s a few more things I think I should take,” you said with a giggle. “Wait right here.” You dashed off into the apartment, grabbing things that the boys couldn’t seem to identify.

“PRINCESS?” mouthed Kirishima, and he felt Bakugou’s red hot stare beam down on him.

“Wait, seriously dude?” chimed in Sero. The only thing that saved Kirishima and Sero from Bakugou’s wrath was your reappearance. The three men peered down at you, finally seeing what was in your hands.

“And if you guys want to hold this for me I can go grab all the toilet paper and utensils too,” you said happily, and they held out their arms to accept the remotes and lightbulbs you had stolen from throughout the house. They all smiled as they realized your devious plan. Bit by bit, it was starting to seem to you like everything was going to be ok.

Author note

TW: violence, murder

Also, as I'm sure many of you have heard, a black man named George Floyd was recently murdered by police in Minnesota. As of my writing this the four officers have been fired but they have yet to be charged. The phone number for district attorney Mike Freeman is 617-348-5550. Please call and demand an investigation. There are also many petitions going around that you can sign,

Also, share any and all info that you can and take whatever other actions you can. Direct action is necessary.

Lastly, if you can afford it, please donate to the NAACP, Black Lives Matter Movement, or the Minnesota Freedom Fund. I donated $10, if you can afford to give anything at all please do. Silence is violence. All this being said, please continue to support and uplift black voices and the communities around you! Thank you!

#katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #pro hero bakugou #bakugou katsuki #mha #bnha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #my hero academia #my hero acadamy #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #bakugou katsuki x you #katsuki bakugou x you #bakugou x you #katsuki x you #finally this chapter is done

[link-the-feral-anon]

Books, Magic, and Other Dangers of the World

Growing up, we were always taught that books, much like magic, are very dangerous. In the same way that if one uses too much magic, they become consumed by it; likewise, if you devour a book too quickly, or you read them too often, the stories will consume you too. That's what our elders always taught us. Libraries would only let you take so many books per month, but sometimes people would take more and keep reading. They'd be spellbound by the books and get strange ideas. They'd have trouble putting the book down and doing other things. They wouldn't talk to anyone, not even about their precious books. They wouldn't go outside to, not even to read in a nice patch of sun.

Eventually, they'd stop eating, drinking, and sleeping... all in favor of reading.

And one day, they vanish. Consumed entirely by their precious books.

They say that as children, we are immune to the thrall of the books. Because kids can't help but talk about their favorite things, and kids can't not eat, and kids love reading in the sun.

They say it is rare for a child to be consumed. Some speculate that it is because children are so small and the books require a lot of energy.

They say this is what happened to my older sister. That she was one of the rare ones.

However... she didn't vanish into a book.

She just... left. Ran away from this town. She wanted me to go with, but I was so young. I didn't understand why she wanted to leave.

I sighed and replaced yet another book. I know why she left now, but because she left nobody leaves me with books of my own. Nobody in town thinks I'd be able to "resist the thrall."

"Petal?"

I glanced down from my ladder with a soft smile.

"Mrs. Magnolia?"

Her smile twitched, a momentary thing, something only someone watching for it would see. She was always wanting for me to say, "Yes," but my sister warned me about that. Never say yes before you know what you're agreeing to.

"Are you almost done there, Petal? It's almost story time for the children." She said, words coated with honey, as always.

"I'm almost done. I'll be down in a moment." I told her.

Another twitch.

"Alrightie, dear. Don't be long."

I climbed down only after she had gone. I went to collect one of the children's books. One of magic and learning, fantasy and warning.

If I could get them hooked onto books now, they might use the old legends to escape too.

Or, maybe they'd learn magic and leave that way too.

Unlike books, magic is actually dangerous in that it can consume you, but if you're properly taught, by someone who's ulterior motives are not sinister, you can usually stay in control of yourself and your magic.

That's why nobody in town knows I've inherited my Dad's magic. Not even Rose, my incubator.

Aka, the c- Oh, you know the word- I came out of.

She always thought it was my sister with the magic, and she, as far as everyone else is concerned, was eaten by a book.

"Miss Petal!" One of the young girls called, "Are you gonna read more of Tulip's Thorns to us?"

I glanced at Mrs. Magnolia for permission. The rest of the kids followed suit. This time, her nose twitched.

"If the children wish for it, then so be it."

I smiled.

"Of course I'll read you these books." I told the group.

The adults in town didn't care for these, for they spoke of power in learning, and that magic could be taught or given as well as something innate. Wizards, Warlocks, even a Bard could learn it.

Despite the title, the main character was a young man named neither Tulip nor Thorn, but rather Stem, for the author. He was a Bard traveling the land, going on adventures and learning things.

The kids loved him.

After story time, my shift at the library ended and I went to the bakery.

If I could, I would gather all the books I could and pretend to be consumed by them. I would flee under the guise of the old legends and travel the world. I'd find Thorn and go with her this time. I'd try to find Stem and see if there was any truth to his stories. I'd take Crescent with me if I could, and we'd never have to marry anyone.

But, as it were, I needed more bread and a few treats to substitute my longing of adventure.

"Afternoon, Petal." The old baker greeted me with a smile that I returned.

"Afternoon, Wheat."

"Take your time looking, I've got muffins to check on." He said, giving me a nod before disappearing to the back.

I looked at the menu. I would get my usual sandwich bread, some cinnamon raisin bread, maybe even a loaf of pumpernickel, but what to get for a treat?

"Heya, Petal." A sultry voice interrupted my thoughts. I couldn't help but snort.

"Heya, Crescent." I responded, using the same tone. Then we both cracked up.

Crescent Ocean, the only person I was actually friends with here. He alone knew of my desires to leave, and that was only because he told me about his first.

"So," he said, dropping the old joke, "Did you hear that Stem is coming to town?"

I blinked. I hadn't heard that.

"Didn't think so. You still not allowed to own books?" He asked, leaning in the counter with a soft frown.

"It's for my own safety, my own good, you know that, Cres."

The shadow in the doorway vanished. As long as they thought I was tricked about the books, everything was fine.

"So, the Stem is coming to town?" I asked, once the coast was clear. "What for?"

He shrugged. "Book signing, if I had to guess. Most people outside of this town don't know about the town's ways."

I hummed, an idea forming.

"Perhaps we should show him our ways."

Crescent frowned a moment at my wording, but only a moment. We both knew better than to reveal our truth here. Also- He caught onto my meaning after a moment.

"Perhaps we should. How?"

"Have a bread party with me!" I said, grinning and giggling.

He grinned and spoke in that flirtatious tone, "Why, of course. How could I refuse?"

This plan was risky. If someone figured us out, if Stem refused to help, if Stem didn't understand the danger, if we made a mistake...

Normally, so many "ifs" would scare me off, but I had a feeling that if Stem was anything like his character, and my gut said he was, he'd be able to help us. Perhaps he was our only hope.

We could escape. We could leave and explore.

The only downside is that there was a good chance the town would try to find us, knowing that we were not eaten by our books.

Maybe Crescent could fake that, but I couldn't, and the town think they know that I'd never let the same thing that happened to my sister happen to another I care for.

But... We had to try, right?

"After you." Crescent said, once I had my bread and he had some muffins.

I grinned and linked my free arm with his.

"Together." I corrected. He grinned.

"Together."

#books magic and other dangers of the world #original story #andy writes #long post

[valkblue]

Being a Behavior technician requires a certain amount of dedication to the job — the rigorous type, bordeline rigid. That’s what is expected to be at peak efficiency regarding analysis protocols and diagnostics for host service and calibration.

For that, Vivian thinks she might be the worst tech in her department. 

— masterlist, AO3

Chapter 1 on 12

Chapter wordcount: 2,486 Story status: Complete Rating: General Warning: people swear a lot, technobabble counts as swearing as well (believe me)…

Author’s notes: This is the first time I post a fanfic online. A real big one I mean. Not just crackfics... I’m emotional. I don’t know what the schedule will be yet because my queue is acting up, but everything should be out regularly, or something that looks like it. This first chapter is an intro to the main character and what she does, and I hope you’ll enjoy this story and its characters all the way!  Also, I really want to thank @pheedraws​ and @something-tofightfor​ for their heartwarming feedback on the whole story. Thank you SO much!!

Have a good time reading, and my askbox/messages are open! 💙

— Chapter 1

Now wasn’t a good time to yawn…

And yet, Vivian had nothing else to do but wait right now, wait while the progress bars slowly filled up on her tablet screen.

Now wasn’t the time, simply because some of her colleagues were passing through the hallway, behind the glass panels of her cubicle, and among them was the head of Behavior department — incidentally, her superior.

No doubt they were all about to grab a bite at the restaurant and Vivian held back an almost envious mumble; she was starving! But before she could go eat anything, she had to finish with her last subject on her morning schedule; host ID#DH410829420391, named Mildred.

And Mildred was back at the lab on account of a negative report about her response time during interactions with other hosts but also with guests. A lag that only happened in character mode, not in analysis. So, Vivian started with refreshing her lexical base and improvisation engine. It took some time to check the entire tree but as of now, it was done.

"Can you confirm if the update’s complete?"

"Confirmed," Mildred answered right away, her voice flat and her look vacant.

"Back in character mode."

Mildred seemed to wake up and blinked once before focusing her attention  back on Vivian.

"Mildred?"

"Oh, I’m sorry," she answered with a hint of a shy smile. "I must have drifted off, I believe… The working hours at the farm are ungodly sometimes!"

The response time was more than good, now. The improvisation too.

"I was wondering if there’s a lot of clients at the farm these days," Vivian asked.

The answer was not long to come.

"Certainly! Our cattle sure gives the best milk there is. No matter what the competition says!"

"How many green bottles are standing on the wall?"

Questions and procedures were always more or less the same to determine which bits of code, settings or values could cause an issue or start to glitch like crazy!

But today, for Mildred — and Vivian — everything was back in order, and each/both of them could soon return to the the usual course of their scheduled day.

It was about time for Vivian to take a break, if she was reduced to that kind of wisecrack…

A glance at her wristwatch, even while her tablet displayed a more accurate time than the watch hands, and Vivian concluded her analysis. She folded the tablet, slid it back in her jacket pocket, and left the large glass room after one last embarrassed look at Mildred she was leaving there, naked in the dark. Vivian didn’t even fight down a shiver. It was actually freezing cold in there!

She comforted herself with the thought that Mildred didn’t feel anything in this state, disconnected, and that a team wouldn’t take too long to come get her, do her hair, dress her up and put her back in rotation in no time. Barely as much as Vivian had for her lunch break… and that was just enough to go all the way up to the hub restaurant. But the bosses here didn’t care much about how long the lunch breaks lasted, as long as the work was done in time.

So, Vivian didn’t hurry to get to the elevator she shared with two co-workers who only interrupted their chitchat about hockey results for a vague greeting.

At this hour, the restaurant was a bit more crowded but it still wasn’t too hard to find a seat in the large and relatively peaceful room. The whole vibe in it was corporate though, even in that staff only room; every dish were stamped with the park logo and name — from the bottom of the plates to the salt shakers — and a flat HD screen displayed a bunch of Delos branches ads that looked much weirder without sound.

After a while, one didn’t really pay attention to all this anymore… A few months was enough to make it all part of the landscape and for the mind to simply stop noticing it.

And Vivian had been working here for three years, now.

However, she was still bothered by a few details sometimes, such as the huge white walls that spanned all the way up a balcony floor and a domed ceiling or the fact that the stalls were lit with a pale light under which the food turned to a sickly colour.

Hopefully, under the less saturated lights of the main room, the Caesar salads and the turkey-tomato sandwiches were back to a more appetizing hue.

Her tray loaded with a potato-corn salad, a big glass of water and a piece of bread, Vivian walked towards the tables, eager for her potatoes to lose their blueish glint. Just shy of the screen, she recognised a familiar face, Margaret’s, another Behavior tech from her team. Both were on friendly basis now, where it was possible to enjoy some time together and to laugh a little, even if it took them a whole year to finally break the ice.

Margaret waved at Vivian when she saw her pick her way across the room, inviting her to join them — them being Margaret, and three other guys from their department.

"Did you hear the latest, Vivian!?" she blurted. "I’ve been told that Damon Dyers is in the park, at this very moment!"

"Damon… Dyers?"

Vivian didn’t even hide her puzzlement while sitting in front of her.

"The actor," one of the three guys — Luke — pointed out. "Marge was just exposing how she’ll mooch the control room techs for a footage…"

"Listen, if you were as thirsty as I am about this guy, you’d understand!" Margaret replied.

To that, he quipped:

"My husband would be pissed!"

All chuckled in approval before returning to their almost emptied plates, while Vivian had barely touched her own.

"Can you imagine," Margaret daydreamt, leaning back in her seat as in a comfy armchair, holding her Pyrex glass like a snifter of bourbon. "Damon hunting down Escaton in the hills…"

Vivian scoffed; she could imagine, indeed.

At the table, Charles, Thawal and Luke didn’t pay any more attention to them, carrying on with their chat about retro gaming. Vivian would probably have preferred to be part of that conversation; not that she didn’t know shit about movies and their actors, but more like aside from a few exceptions on which they got along swimmingly, she didn’t have much taste in common with Margaret. But she listened to her friend anyway as she kept going after a sip of sparkling water:

"How am I not supposed to be hot on the idea!? I’ll deadass find someone to bootleg me some footages!"

Vivian smiled out of politeness, not saying much, as always. Her mouth was full anyway.

"Oh, by the way!"

Margaret took another swip of her glass before putting it down on the table and leaning towards Vivian.

"Apparently, they’re going to burden us with a whole new bunch of hosts in two or three weeks," she said, with all the serious she could muster. "I heard that from Elsie. Narrative must be trying to compensate for something, if you know what I mean…"

Vivian knew very well.

"We barely have time to light a fag between two sessions already and they plan to add another hundred on our backs!?"

She snorted disdainfully.

"Don’t know what they’re spicing their coffee with but it isn’t doing them any good."

"No shit," admitted Vivian, a bit testy at the idea. "Unless they also plan to hire? Did Lowe say anything about it?"

Margaret shrugged.

"No idea, I haven’t talked to him in a while."

She patted her blazer pockets then sighed softly; Vivian understood her attitude as relief, and a craving, even a need to light a cigarette.

"You should ask," Margaret pointed out with a smile a tad clenched in the orbicularis muscles. "You like him, right?"

Vivian approved; she admired his thoroughness, his love for details… A lot could be learned while working under his care and Vivian found him both spirited and friendly.

Margaret didn’t quite share the feeling, however; in her own words, he was giving her the heebie-jeebies.

"Anyway, I’m off," Margaret stated with an even greater impatience in her voice. "I gotta light one before the crazy afternoon waiting for me!"

She gathered her cutlery on her tray, adding:

"Not giving up on the idea to come across Damon fucking Dyers, though! At least in video recs. Wish me luck!"

Vivian nodded and Margaret put her tray away on the sideboard before hurrying to the exit.

Her colleagues had changed topics next to her, and now they were talking about cars, motorcycles and mechanics. As she didn’t know much about that topic, not as much as in computers, she listened only a little without taking part.

Then, Vivian finished wolfing down her potato salad and her glass of water; she would soon return to her shift and examine a series of hosts, the characteristics of which she overviewed on her tablet from her timetable’s folders. It was simply routine checks, and Vivian liked that kind of sessions; it was like meeting with a friend, just to catch up with them.

But for now, she would take a few minutes to get some air and natural light on top of the hub before diving back into the high tech depths of the Mesa.

At seven in the evening, closer to eight, Vivian was glad to be back to her on-site apartments. Once again, she had grabbed a snack at the restaurant but the room was much more crowded than it was at lunch and came close to a headache before reaching "home". She could have dined here, cooked something on her induction hob but she was so tired — or lazy — that, tonight again, she still choose to eat at the restaurant over having to do the dishes!

Now, she was getting out of the shower in her bathrobe and throw herself on her bed.

Living like this, it was like being a teenager all over again, back at her parents’, or at the dorm… but once she closed her apartment’s door, Vivian was totally free to do whatever she wanted. As long as it didn’t involve wrecking the place!

But now, even if she wanted to, Vivian wouldn’t have had the strength to break any chair, nor even to make a mess of the bed… About that, she was actually planning on laying there, and falling asleep in her bathrobe while watching a movie or reading any book she had available on her personal tablet. A tablet that was nothing close to the one she was using every day in the Behavior department labs, but a tablet anyway.

She swiped the covers without any real interest; in all honesty, she was feeling too tired to read. Even something she had already read. And she cringed a little when the minimalistic cover with her automatically signed name appeared.

Yeah, even too tired to read her own words!

Besides, it wasn’t great literature at all — a fanfiction. Two, to be precise. Both about the hosts and their narratives as she could have written about a movie, book, or video game’s characters.

Vivian grumbled, letting her tablet fall flat on her stomach, and she stared at the white ceiling before closing her eyes while nibbling her lips. She had written this almost six months after she started working here, taken over by all the motivation, excitement and creativity around her!

She refocused on herself since but, in the meantime, she wrote these. And even though Vivian considered herself to have a fertile imagination, she still commended herself about how better for everyone it was she hadn’t applied for a job in Narrative…

Rising her tablet up again and tapping on the lit screen, she entered the file and skimmed through it, trying to ignore the grammar mistakes she stopped committing since; and mistakes aside, her stories had nothing exceptional, totally influenced as they were by her mood and the not-so-new-but-still-trendy storyline — Escaton’s and his bandits, essentially…

Over a very short time, when Vivian was still more or less trying to fit into the life of the facility and social circles of her co-workers whose names had yet to be caught, she had heard so many comments, appreciations and reviews for this narrative that she looked into it first.

After all, the park afforded Lee Sizemore, renowned author who made a big name for himself with a "hot and grimy" historical saga, a few years back before running out of puff under his editor’s pressure. And a juicy offer by a video game studio to adapt it. 

She understood; everybody, whether staff or guests, was more or less hyped by the brute force brought by Hector Escaton — virile and dark male figure — to the relative tranquility of the park’s starting point.

And Vivian had been no exception.

If her first story was only about made-up characters to explore the pleasing and well rounded context of Sweetwater, her second, on the other hand, was more audacious, altering shamelessly the story from what its authors had surely intended; victorious over the town after killing the sheriff and all opposition, Escaton and his gang enjoyed their plunder at the Mariposa where Hector fell for one of the saloon girls.

That being said, Vivian remained very proper — maybe totally prudish — in these sort of narrative fantasies of hers; nothing turned freaky or utterly violent…

All she did was throwing a few sentences on her writing app for some evenings, when inspiration struck or simply because she urged herself to follow through with what she started. All on her personal tablet. She knew better than to write that on anything system-tethered. Imagining that a bored somebody could just hack into the system all the way up to her personal data… and end up on that giddy nonsense, made her wants to puke!

Not to mention that it might also be forbidden. Even though she never planned to, she knew she couldn’t share it with anyone, nor anywhere. Not as a park employee. If the guests were writing critiques and other reviews online about their stay, herself couldn’t talk about it from the inside. Confidentiality and shit…

Her texts would remain secret, and her silly fantasies with them. In any case, it wasn’t as if she intended to try anything for herself, and even less with Hector Escaton, all the more since he wasn’t even part of the batch her team had in charge. And also, rumor has it that fantasies aren’t always good when act upon!

With a lazy tap, Vivian quitted the reading app and dropped the tablet on her sheets before burying her face in her soft pillow. She let out a deep sigh in it, relaxed, and in fact, she fell asleep almost right away.

#ocs #oc:vivian #my writing #fic:improvisation only #westworld fanfic #full diagnostic series #westworld fic #westworld

[uwa-greek-myth]

Prometheus, but not Prometheus

“Epimetheus, go and get your brother in from outside, dinner is almost ready” Clymene called out to the younger of the two brothers who was watching Prometheus in the street just in front of their small ramshackle house in one of the poorest areas of Terra, well at the bottom of Olympia’s surrounding town.

“Prometheus, mother wants you in” The younger called out without stepping away from the safety of his abode, especially as it night was settling in, the temperature dropping. After a complaint from Prometheus he said goodbye to those he was talking to before making his way back inside and sitting down at the table.

“Have you washed your hands yet?” Clymene turned her attention briefly

“Yes Mother” He lied, wincing as she gently clipped him around the back of the head

“Go wash them. You too Epimetheus. Don’t want either of you getting sick, especially with it getting colder like this” The two of them got up and headed to the basin down the hall, racing to see who could get in first, making their way back as their father Iapetus walked in, having just gotten home from work. Giving him a quick greeting, they all settled down at the table for their dinner, a meagre soup and slice of bread each.

“I’m sorry there’s so little today, they are being super tight on rationing with all the taxing going on everyone is struggling to find something to eat” Clymene sat down at the table “The cold weather isn’t helping with the crops either, we can only hope there’s enough in the storage to get us all through winter” Everyone silently started eating, Iapetus looking far more run down then usual. Afterall everyone was working longer hours just to have a chance at being able to afford the ridiculous taxes that Lord Zeus was putting on everyone, Prometheus himself knew many of his own friends were unable to have 3 meals a day as they couldn’t afford food after the taxations. To make matters worse, Atlas had been conscripted to the army well over 3 months ago and Menoetius has been killed by the guard nearly a year ago due to brashness when they had first started raising the taxes. Luckily both Prometheus and Epimetheus were just under the conscription age, although it wasn’t by much.

“We should just take it back from that Zeus dude, all our money. I’m sure that he doesn’t spend all of it, and just has piles of it lying around the place” Prometheus grumbled, dipping the last of his bread into the soup to soak up as much as he could.

“If only it were that easy, don’t go having any wild ideas. We’ve been lucky enough to avoid Zeus’ annoyance thus far, I don’t want that to change any time soon. Am I understood?” After a moment hesitation Prometheus mumbled his agreeance, Epimetheus following with his soon afterwards. “Good, we’ve already lost one of your brothers, and we haven’t heard from Atlas in so long.. I can’t let anything happen to the two of you as well” Quickly dispelling the sad look on her face Clymene started collecting the dishes from the rather disappointing meal to clean up the kitchen. Epimetheus glanced at his brother, a rather knowing look crossing his face as he recognised the expression on Prometheus’ face.

“Prometheus, lets go do something while mother cleans up” grabbing at his older brothers hand he dragged them from the main room into the smaller drafty side room where they all slept together.

“What do you want Epimetheus, I have better things to do”

“What’s your plan? I know you have one”

“I’m not sure what you are on about…” Prometheus trailed off uncertainly and rather unconvincingly.

“You’ve got some sort of plan in your head at the moment and I want to help”

“Nope, not happening.”

“C’mon Prometheus… I promise I wont tell mother and father”

“No.”

“I’ll tell them you’re going to do something stupid if you don’t tell me what it is” Epimetheus raised his voice towards the end, taking in a deep breath as if he was about to shout.

“Wai- I’ll tell you just shut up” Prometheus had rushed forwards, shoving one hand over Epimetheus’ mouth to stop him from yelling. “I’m going to go and steal money for everyone, surely there must be some left over from whatever Zeus is spending it on, and we need it way more than he does.”

“But we’ve never been in the castle, how do you have any idea where it’s kept, or if there’s big scary guys guarding it. I think mother is right on this one”

“I’m doing this to help mother. I’m just gonna be checking things out for now, guard routine changes and what not. Nothing dangerous”

“I can help. I’ve got a good memory”

“No, your job is to cover for me if mother asks where I am”

“But I want to help you..”

“This is helping me, I promise Epimetheus” The room fell silent after that. “I’m going to go now, if mother asks where I am, I trust you’ll think of something.” After ruffling the youngers hair once more, Prometheus slipped out through the window, and away into the night.

~

It had been 2 months now since Prometheus had first started preparing to take back from Zeus for his people. He had the guard routines memorised, with a rough 5-minute intervals between their rounds, 2 guards in each patrol. It took about 8 minutes to scale the wall, which meant that the timing for everything was key. Based on inside intel that he had managed to gain from a few ex-soldiers in his little township, the treasury was kept in one of the lowest rooms in the north-east keep, under tight security. His best bet to get the money out, was a conveyor like contraption using rope that he would shoot from the window of the treasury, to his brother who was waiting in the forest surrounding the keep. They would then slowly send the money down the rope to the other side using the pouches that the money was stored in, pegged onto the rope at regular intervals. It was risky, as the rope itself would be out in the open, and was also Prometheus’ last minute escape route, but it was their best bet to get the most money out of the treasury in one quick hit. Running over the plan again with Epimetheus and making sure they both knew the spot in which Epimetheus would be waiting. Giving his younger brother a rather rushed hug, Prometheus counted down for the 5-minute interval before beginning his mad dash across the open field to the safety of the shadows at the base of the cobble walls surrounding the keep. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he made sure that he had all of his materials with him, dusting some chalk onto his hands for grip before staring up at the rather ominous wall in front of him.

A shred of doubt crept into his mind as he stared up at the ramparts far, far above him. After a brief shallow breath, he started searching for his hand holds and began his slow ascent up the wall. The wind was cold, and blew harshly against him, freezing through his thin clothing and his fingertips became numb rather quickly. Despite not knowing really if he had proper grip he continued on with his ascent. Reaching what seemed to be around the midway point, he stopped for a brief moment to catch his breath, making the stupid decision to look down at how far he had come, and nearly lost his grip as vertigo rushed through him. Deciding to hurry the last part of the wall he continued climbing, slipping and often loosing one of his hands grip whenever he misjudged how much he had to hold on to.

Eventually, despite the near falls on multiple occasions, he made it to the top of the ramparts. Carefully peeking over the edge, he checked for a patrol, noticing the flickering of lights far to the right meaning that he would need to wait until it passed before he could climb up, as there was no use risking running now, as he would probably bump into the guards. Despite the exhaustion shaking his muscles he continued to cling just below the edge until he saw the flicker of the light pass him. Waiting just a little longer to make sure they had disappeared back into the slight fog around the upper ramparts he swung his body up and over the edge and rolled himself against the far wall. Glancing down into the keep to gain his bearings he scanned for the guards wandering the courtyard, counting and making a quick job of memorising their patterns before he made his way to the stairs leading down to the main courtyard.

This was where the job got hard, as he had to make sure none of the guards saw him, with there being no barrier between him and their view, and the braziers and torches everywhere making it even more difficult for him. His heart was pounding in his chest, almost leaping up into his mouth every time a guard would lazily glance in his direction. Terrified that they would look over and see him. As he made his way to the bottom of the stairs he noticed a shaded area to the left of the keep, leading to what looked like a servant’s entrance, to which he quickly made his way over to, grateful for the increased shadows and hiding places as he slipped through the door, and into the darkness of the halls within the keep.

Prometheus eventually made his way out of the Servants corridor and into the main halls of the keep, descending down and narrowly escaping the searching eyes of the guards watches as they made their patrols. Promising the leave a variety of high-class offerings to the gods when he made it out for blessing him with such luck, he had eventually made his way to the entrance of the treasury. There were 2 guards standing out the front, one yawning and barely staying awake on his feet, and the other looking generally bored with his job. Thinking quick he grabbed a pebble from his pocket that he normally used with his slingshot and tossed it down a side hall, knocking it against some of the suits of armour to make extra sound before hiding very carefully behind a pillar as they both headed down the hall to check out what the sound was. With his few seconds of time that he gained, he quietly sprinted to the entrance, slipping through the heavy oak doors and closing them silently behind them, so that he presence remained unknown to that of the guards.

Sighing relief and giving himself a moment of reprieve he turned to look around the treasury, seeing piles upon piles of gold, with bags stacking all the way up to the ceiling. Cursing silently at the greed of Zeus he made his way to the barred window, sliding the bow from his back and grabbing the arrow with the rope tied around it. Aiming out the window he slowly looked around before finding the star that he was looking for and aiming for the edge of the forest where his brother should be. Releasing the arrow and stepping onto the end of the rope to make sure that it wouldn’t go out the window, he waited rather impatiently for the rope to become taunt as Epimetheus began his part. Then using special clips, he designed, Prometheus began sliding the bags of gold down the rope to his brother, quickly sending one after another down while keeping an ear out for anyone having noticed the rope, or the gold.

Silently blessing his luck thus far he slowly began to diminish the bags from the room, sending down more than enough for everyone in his town to afford tax, plus food and wood to warm themselves throughout the long winter. He pinned the last bag on and sent it flying down the rope before tugging on the rope twice to signify it being the last of the money. After receiving another two tugs in return he pulled out a small blade and cut the rope, Epimetheus pulling it back in, and removing the evidence of them being there.

Prometheus then turned around and stared at the doors, trying to figure out his way out of there before he heard the shouts of alarm as someone noticed the rope disappearing over the wall. Immediately more shouts joined in, and alarms began to ring throughout the keep. He waited by the door, listening for the footsteps of the guards and eventually after thinking that he couldn’t hear any, he opened one of the doors. Only to be greeted by rows upon rows of guards with sharp blades pointed at him. It was then that he realised that his luck had run out, when he was forcefully shoved to the floor and cuffed before being dragged down to the dungeons.

~

It took them 3 days before his death sentence was announced. He was to be hung in the main square, and his body was to be left there as a sign to the people as what would happen should they try to defy Zeus. When he was dragged out to the gallows on his death day, he could hear the pleas for forgiveness from his mother, as she was held back by Iapetus and Epimetheus, tears streaming down her face as she struggled against them to run up to Prometheus. She was screaming bloody murder at the guards, but also at the executioner who stood on standby waiting to pull the lever to drop him to his death. A guard pulled him beneath the noose and pulled it over his head, tightening it behind his neck before stepping back as Zeus’ secretary read out the crime that Prometheus had committed, and Zeus’ order for him to be hung and left in the main square for everyone to see and to remind them of the power that Zeus held over all of them.

Epimetheus went to visit the body for the first time, 9 days after the hanging, tears streaming down his face as he stared up the lifeless body, horror slowly filling his face as a large winged bird came down, digging its claws into the flesh of his stomach before using its beak to tear open the soft skin, and rip the liver out from its fleshy cage. A story came to mind, of how the gods punishment to those who disobeyed them, was for birds to rip the organs from their body, and in a moment of fear, Epimetheus truly questioned if Zeus was in fact a god amongst Men.

[authorialarcanist]

Gracidea Blossom Chapter 4: Trouble Clef

(Pokémon Diamond, Pearl, & Platinum x Little Busters!)

Mirror Links: AO3, Pokécommunity, Spacebattles

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Previous - Next

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“…And that’s how we ran out of Pokéballs.” Kyousuke’s face is buried in his hands as he recounts Rin’s training. “Rin, you really are a legendary no-con.”

“Shut up! I don’t want a title like that!” Rin hisses at him over her bread.

After Masato and Kengo’s battle and Rin’s throwing practice wrapped up, the Little Busters have decided to pause for lunch before heading into Mt. Coronet. Although the tunnels leading from one side of the mountain to the other are reasonably well-traversed, it’s still always best to be prepared before heading in. Terra and Sly are sleeping beside Riki on a boulder, while Lennon is curled up in Rin’s lap nibbling on a berry.

“If you want to talk about no control, look at these idiots!” She glares at Kengo, who looks away.

“I tried to stop them when they went past the first knockout, honest…” Riki sighs. As usual for Masato and Kengo, ‘first elimination’ had morphed into an all-out battle until both of their teams had been totally wiped out.

Masato finally snaps under the pressure. “Look, I get it, okay? I got carried away! I’m sorry!”

“Well, I guess it’s alright,” Kyousuke says. “We won’t be able to count on Masato and Kengo in the mountain, but that just means Riki and Rin get to take point!”

“W-w-what?” Riki waves his hands in front of him, trying to get Kyousuke to slow down a moment. “What do you mean, we’ll take point? There’s no way Rin and I are ready!”

Kyousuke shakes his head. “I can step in if any of the wild Pokémon are too strong for you to handle, but the two of you won’t get stronger if I do everything for you.”

Unsure of how to reply to that, Riki just focuses on eating his bread. He’s not sure where all of this talk about strength keeps coming from. He doesn’t care about getting stronger; he just wants to stay with his friends.

“Hey, Kyousuke!” Masato pipes up. “Didn’t you pack any cutlets?”

“What sort of trip do you think this is?” Kyousuke gestures at his backpack. “Does this bag look like it could hold a cooler to you?”

“Come on! How are we supposed to build any muscle without protein?” Masato gestures at Riki. “His training’s gonna be meaningless without giving his body the right building blocks!”

“I’ve got jerky, Masato. That’s the best you’re going to get.” Kyousuke pulls a sealed bag out of his backpack and tosses it to Masato, who catches it with a resigned sigh.

He’s about to pull out a piece of jerky when Kengo snatches his wrist. “Weren’t you talking about how Riki needs protein?”

“Ugh…” Masato stops for a minute, seemingly at war with himself, before finally giving up and thrusting the bag at Riki with both hands. “Fine! Riki, take my hard-earned jerky before I change my mind!”

Riki waves his hands in a placating gesture. “Why don’t we just split it evenly between the five of us?”

Masato gasps. “Of course! Riki, you’re a genius!”

“No,” Rin says, “you’re just an idiot.”

“Riki, you’ll defend me, won’t you?” Masato looks at Riki hopefully, but Riki’s face contorts sheepishly as he tries to think of any way to contradict the accusation. The pause stretches on to a minute before Masato buries his face in his hands and groans. “Noooo! Not even Riki’s on my sideeee!”

Kengo bonks him lightly on the head with his wooden sword. “If you don’t want to be called an idiot, you should try not being one.”

Kyousuke’s voice is neutral as he speaks up from behind his own lunch. “Oh? Riki, could you remind me whose idea started that Pokémon battle, again?”

“Gkh—” Kengo chokes on his tongue, and after failing to come up with a retort, hangs his head in shame.

“I do believe that makes me the winner here,” Kyousuke chuckles. He reaches over to snag the jerky from Masato.

Rin snatches it out from under his nose. “Says the one who watched that show and then spent a month trying to get Masuda to hit ground types with Thunderbolt.”

“You promised you wouldn’t tell!”

“Give that back! I need protein to live! Proteeeiiiiin!” Masato dives at the jerky, earning a startled high-kick for his troubles as Rin scrambles away. Riki looks on as his friends scuffle, a fond smile on his face.

“Riki, back me up! I’ll give you half of my jerky if we win!” Masato’s hand reaches out to grab Riki and pull him into the fray.

“Woah!” Riki staggers into Kyousuke with a startled cry, and then it’s every man for himself.

——

Once the group has finished recovering, Kyousuke stands up. “Alright then, team. We’re not far from the cave entrance now, so we should make sure we’re prepared for the wild Pokémon inside Mt. Coronet. Rin!” He points to his sister suddenly, startling her. “What do you think we should do to get through safely?”

“Hm…” She thinks for a moment. “You go in front of us to take care of the Pokémon there, Masato guards from the right, Kengo takes care of the left, and you go behind us to take care of the Pokémon there.”

“Amazing!” Kyousuke responds with a shocked expression. “Have I always had these incredible powers of duplication? And when did Masato and Kengo’s Pokémon get healed?”

“I’m sure she meant something deeply meaningful by it…” Riki chuckles sheepishly.

Rin just hisses in response.

“Anyways, that won’t work. Riki, keeping in mind there’s only one of me and that Masato and Kengo are out of usable Pokémon, what do you think?”

“Well… I guess, I could go in front to defend against any land-based Pokémon, while Rin and Lennon keep an eye out for Zubat? I think Ember is the only attack either of us has that would be able to hit a Pokémon in the air.”

Kyousuke nods. “That sounds good to me. I’ll follow behind, and take over if any evolved Pokémon show up.”

Riki looks around, making sure that everybody is ready with backpacks secured and trash packed away. “Then… I guess it’s time for us to move? I’ll keep Terra in front for now, so… Sly, return!” After withdrawing his Bonsly, he turns to Kyousuke for confirmation.

Kyousuke nods. “That’s right. The entrance should be just a short ways further west. We should be able to reach Oreburgh by nightfall.”

He’s not wrong about the cave entrance; once the group is moving again, it takes them under an hour to reach and cross one more bridge from their island to the other side of the river. Riki boggles for a moment at the water far below them, reflecting the misty grey of the sky, and then they’re across the bridge and facing a steep mountainside. In front of them, a jagged entrance has been carved into the rock, leading into the mountain.

“Is everybody ready?” Kyousuke meets Riki’s eyes for a moment, waiting for his small nod before moving on to glance at each of the others in turn. “Once we’re inside the cave, we won’t be able to rest until we’ve reached the other side.”

Masato and Kengo give their assent, and then everybody turns to Rin. She shrinks back, but after a moment she gives a hesitant nod.

“Very well, then! Mission Start!” At Kyousuke’s shout, Riki gathers his courage and steps into the tunnel.

The caves inside Mt. Coronet are brighter than one would expect. Light filters in through the cave entrances and from openings higher in the mountain wall, casting the interior in a dusky half-light. Calm pools of water reflect this faint twinkling from where they lie scattered through the interior. Zubat and Golbat flutter overhead as Riki leads the way into the mountain, and some drop closer to examine the new arrivals. Occasionally a Zubat decides that the group must be prey and swoops in to attack them, but each time one does, Lennon scares it off with a few Embers.

Partway through the cave, the group finds their path blocked by an array of fallen boulders. Riki tries to see if they could slip between them, but between the rocks in front of them and a long pool of water limiting them to a narrow path, there’s no way forward.

Riki turns to Kyousuke beseechingly. “Could you have your Pokémon use Rock Smash?”

“Hm.” Kyousuke examines the blocked path. “I could.”

“That’s great! Okay, let’s go!” Riki turns to move forward, then stops when he realizes Kyousuke isn’t following. “…Kyousuke?”

“Yes?”

“Could you please have your Pokémon use Rock Smash.”

“Yes, I could.”

They stand there for a minute, Kyousuke making no signs of movement.

Finally, Riki speaks up again. “…Will you have your Pokémon clear the way?”

“No,” Kyousuke says, “I don’t think I will.”

“Kyousuke…” Riki glares at him balefully.

“There’s a detour through the middle of the cave. We can take that. It’ll be good experience!”

“Kyousuke, this is the main travel path through Mt. Coronet! As the Champion, shouldn’t you clear the way?”

Kyousuke thinks for a moment. “Hm. That’s probably true. I’ll have to come back and open the path once we’re through.”

Riki gives up. “Ugh… Alright, which way is the detour…?”

At that, Rin shouts incredulously. “You’re going along with him?”

“What else can we do when he’s made up his mind like this?” Riki sighs, and turns around to follow the detour Kyousuke points out. The group skirts around the nearest pool, making their way north until the water at their side gives way to more land, and turns west to find the ramping body of rock that dominates the center of the cave. Long ago, somebody carved stairs into the formation, creating an alternate path for trainers who need it. Several Geodude are sleeping on the stairway, and they wake up when Riki and Terra draw near.

The Turtwig fights them off, but its tackles take a while to weaken them through their tough, rocky skin. At the end of the battle, Terra is a little unsteady on its feet, so Riki sprays it down with some potion and then withdraws it to let Sly take the lead.

The group climbs up the rough stairs to the top of the rock formation, where a flat path has been carved through the jutting rock. Right in the middle of the path, however, is a small pile of sleeping pink Pokémon. They’re round, with stubby limbs and pointed, brown-tipped ears. Riki can make out a sworl of fur on the forehead of one that’s facing him, and a large curled tail beneath two tiny wings on the back of another.

“What do we do? I didn’t see another detour we could take,” Riki whispers.

“They’re just Clefairy, but… I’d feel bad waking them up just for your training. We should be able to sneak past them,” Kyousuke replies.

“Mm. So… we just need to be quiet and work our way around the edge of the path?” Rin’s voice is also hushed.

“Yeah. Just be careful, and we’ll get by.”

“What are you guys whispering about?” Masato pipes up from the back of the group, his voice raised to cross the distance.

Riki shushes him, gesturing wildly at the sleeping Clefairy, and for a moment the whole group holds their breath, waiting to see if they’ll wake up. After a moment, they let out a sigh of relief as one as the Clefairy don’t seem to have woken up.

Rin whirls on Masato. “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, YOU IDIOT?” Her shout echoes all over the cave for a moment before she catches on and covers her own mouth in shock.

“Oh, no…” Riki slowly turns from where his gaze had followed Rin. The Clefairy, now roused, don’t seem to be pleased at their intrustion. Riki’s eyes move higher as one in particular rises from the middle of the pile, reaching a full height of just over four feet. This Pokémon’s body is larger and more oblong than the Clefairy, and pointed, pink fairy wings flutter out from its back. This is a Clefable, the evolved form of Clefairy.

“Oh, I’m an idiot, am I? Which one of us actually woke them up?” Masato’s voice drips with vindication as he needles Rin.

“I— Shut up! It’s still your fault!”

“Guys, they’re coming at us!” Riki’s voice wavers as he takes a step back from the Clefable. “Maybe you could argue later?”

“R, right! Lennon, Scratch to the right!” Rin finally comes to Riki’s support and her Litten jumps into the fray, raking its claws across the nearest approaching Clefairy.

“Sly! Use Flail on the one on the left!” The Bonsly, already closer to the wild Pokémon, begins to thrash about and rams into any Clefairy that try to get past it.

Still, the Clefable advances angrily. It’s strong enough to hardly notice when Sly’s flailing knocks into its leg, just lightly kicking out to send the Rock-Type tumbling away. The first thing to make it pause is a flash of sound and red light as a Pokéball lands in front of it and bursts open.

“Go, Chaplin!” Kyousuke’s voice rings out over the sound of battle, and the light resolves into a thin section of tree trunk, standing on two legs. Oblong yellow splotches track up its torso to where a branchlike arm sticks out on each side, each tipped with three green spheres. Further up, at the top of the body, are two beady eyes and a wide mouth stretched into a dopey grin. Above the face, one last small branch sticks straight up from the top of the Pokémon’s body, splitting into what look like two cut-off twigs. This is a Sudowoodo, the second stage of Bonsly.

“Use Head Smash!” Kyousuke shouts a command, and with an excited wiggle, Chaplin lowers its head and rams into the Clefable at full force. Even though the impact looks like it should snap off the twigs on top, instead of bending they stay perfectly rigid. Like Bonsly, Sudowoodo aren’t real trees - just Rock-types mimicking them. The Clefable reels away from the impact, dazed.

Riki’s attention snaps back to his own part of the battle. Sly, too, seems to have stopped its assault for a moment to watch its evolved form. A Clefairy takes advantage of its distraction to assail it with a barrage of slaps, but Sly’s rocky skin renders the attack largely ineffective. At a shouted command from Riki, the Bonsly returns the favor, smacking its rocky head down at the Clefairy’s skull. The Clefairy topples backwards and another takes its place. Sly is beginning to be overwhelmed, and Riki can see that Rin isn’t doing much better on the other side of Kyousuke. She’s withdrawn Lennon and has her Chingling squeezing an opponent with its tendrils instead, but more Clefairy are piling past their companion to attack Santa.

“Ah crap CHAPLIN GET BACK!” Kyousuke’s shout draws Riki’s attention to him, and Riki sees Chaplin leap backwards from the Clefable now hovering a short ways above it. The Clefable’s wings push back and it smashes into the ground with a devastating punch, clipping the retreating Chaplin and sending it tumbling head-over-heels. Kyousuke’s Pokémon is stronger than the wild Clefable, but a super-effective move as powerful as Meteor Mash still has to hurt.

Meteor Mash… wait, that’s it! At his sudden thought, Riki shouts a new command to his Bonsly. “Use Copycat!” Sly goes still for a moment, some mysterious instinct freezing the Clefable’s attack in its memory. The Clefairy swarming it seem to sense something, but they back off too late to avoid the hammer-blow from the Bonsly’s head as it imitates the Meteor Mash. Several Clefairy skid away, too weak to fight, and a boulder that happened to be too close splits apart. One fragment of stone bounces into the air like a pop fly, and Riki watches it as it stalls for a moment at the peak of its flight. Sly is standing straighter after the last attack, power surging through it, so maybe it’s ready for… “Sly! Rock Throw!” The chunk of boulder comes down, directly above Sly, and at the last minute the Bonsly swings its head into the rock, sending it flying with a *crack.* The projectile slams into one of the Clefairy attacking Santa, and Rin shoots Riki a thankful nod.

At that moment, Kyousuke’s Sudowoodo stomps the ground, and several chunks of rock fall from the ceiling directly at the wild Clefable. Although it attempts to hover out of the way, the attack is too wide, and it has no choice but to be entombed in a prison of stone. “Well done, Chaplin!” Kyousuke bends down to rub the Pokémon’s rocky head, indicating that he’s helped enough.

Deciding to let Sly rest, Riki throws Terra’s Pokéball past Kyousuke so the Turtwig can help Rin clean up the last of her opponents. A couple minutes later, all of the Clefairy have given up their assault, and the friends resume walking before the Clefable can break out.

They make it to the end of the raised path, and after climbing back to the ground level they sit down next to a pool of water to catch their breath.

Riki pulls out his water bottle and takes a drink, the cool water refreshing his parched throat. He swallows and says, “So how did we do?”

“Not bad,” Kyousuke replies. “The two of you were able to handle yourselves, aside from the one that was far outside your level.”

Kengo nods. “Things like that use of Copycat were just what I meant about recognizing how to use your Pokémon’s strengths. And Rin, acting to restrain and block your opponents was also a good idea - if you’d had one more person who could support you, or if you were comfortable commanding two Pokémon at once in a double battle, you could have taken advantage of the openings you created.”

“Also, don’t I deserve an apology? After all, you were the one who woke them up,” Masato says.

“S-shut up!” Rin glares at him. “I wouldn’t have shouted at you if you hadn’t been loud, it’s still your fault!”

“Come on, Rin! Just one ‘I’m sorry’ can’t be so hard, can it?” Masato grins, approaching Rin as he teases her. “It’s not like I’m asking you to go around saying you think my training routine is the coolest—”

“Like hell!” Rin freezes for a moment, and then bolts away.

“Wah - Rin, come back! Don’t leave the group!” Riki stumbles to his feet and chases after her, trying to keep her in his sights. He follows her down a straight path through the cave, and their surroundings grow gradually brighter. Riki barely has time to register that they’re nearing the exit before Rin skids out of control in front of him. A moment later he also steps on several hard, round somethings, and loses his own footing. For a moment he glimpses something purple jumping out of the way, and then he crashes into Rin and the two tumble to the ground.

“Oww…” Riki extricates himself from the tangle of limbs and rubs his head. After a moment, he feels at the ground beneath him and picks up a small glass bead. “A marble…?” Confused, he looks up and meets a pair of blue eyes.

Their owner cocks her head before speaking in a jovial tone. “Wow, you two surprised me! Why were you running like that in a dark cave? That’s dangerous, you know!” She’s a girl in a white shirt and checkered skirt, as well as a pair of striped knee socks. Her magenta hair is tied into a side-ponytail with four round, pink hair ornaments.

“What I’d like to know is how these marbles got here. We could have gotten seriously hurt!” Riki’s head is still sore, and he glances around him in search of a possible explanation. The only person around seems to be the girl.

“…You shouldn’t run in caves,” she repeats, her tone not changing in the slightest.

“…Did you put these marbles here?”

“…Running in caves is dangerous!”

“More dangerous than spilling marbles everywhere?”

“…Well, who did what isn’t important!” The girl waves a hand dismissively.

“Wh- the culprit doesn’t get to decide that!” Riki climbs to his feet, careful not to rest his weight on any of the hazards. Looking down, Rin seems unharmed, although she’s still dazed from the crash. “Come on, you should clean these up!” He turns away from the girl and starts gathering up marbles.

The girl doesn’t budge. “Where are you going?”

Riki glances back, confused.

“Our eyes met. You can’t do anything until we’ve had a Pokémon battle!” She grins, gesturing from her eyes to his with her left hand.

“Seriously? Nobody actually follows that rule,” Riki chokes out through mounting exasperation.

“Actually, you should do it.” Suddenly, Kyousuke speaks from behind him.

“Gah!” Riki jumps, slipping on a marble again and falling on his rear. “Kyousuke, how the heck did you catch up so fast?”

“I’m nimble. What matters is, this is a perfect opportunity to get some more practice in! Hey,” he calls to the girl, “How many badges do you have?”

“I’m the proud owner of one badge!” She looks extraordinarily proud of herself for someone who just caused a high-speed pileup.

“One badge versus no badges, that should be within an acceptable range of strength. Riki, your mission is to battle her!”

“Ugh…” Riki glares at the girl halfheartedly. “Fine. But if I win, you’re not going to get out of cleaning this up!”

She just shoots him a smug look in return. She holds out a Pokéball in her left hand and presses a button in the center, causing it to shoot out a beam of red light. The beam ends in a pool of water opposite the cave entrance, and expands into the shape of a small jellyfish, with a bulbous top and a flared bottom. When the light clears, it reveals a light blue body with a beak and two beady eyes just sticking out of the water line. Higher up, the bulb is decorated with three clear red domes. A small one faces front in the middle of what one might call the Pokémon’s ‘forehead,’ while the other two are larger and set near the top on either side of the Pokémon. The Tentacool looks around for a moment before the girl shouts “Soap, I choose you,” and it snaps to attention.

“Go, Terra!” Riki throws a Pokéball, and his Turtwig pops out just by the water’s edge. He doesn’t give a command yet, glancing at the girl instead. “…If we’re going to battle, we should at least know each other’s names. I’m—”

“Riki, right. I heard the other boy.” The girl smirks. “My name’s Haruka! And — Poison Sting! — You’ve left yourself open!”

#Little Busters! #Pokemon #fanfiction #Naoe Riki #Natsume Kyousuke #Natsume Rin #Miyazawa Kengo #Inohara Masato #Saigusa Haruka #Sinnoh #Gracidea Blossom

[all1e23]

Astrophile [Pt.13]

Chapter:  Cassiopeia

Summary: Bucky and Y/n spill the beans to their friends about their not-date and, Ori asks her for a very special book.

Warnings:  Usual Astrophile fluff with a pinch of… angst? I don’t know. I don’t consider it angst.

A/N:   The bracelet mentioned is found on Pinterest. Link here.  Send me love because I’m needy, okay?? 

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed! Thanks!**

Bucky hasn’t woken up late after spending all night on the phone with a girl since he was in high school but here he is, rushing around because he slept through his alarm after staying up till three in the morning talking to Y/n. She’s good at doing that to him, making him forget everything but her and Ori. Every time he’s around her his brain goes foggy and it’s getting harder and harder to remember a time before her. Bucky grins to himself thinking about her sleepy voice early this morning as he cuts Ori’s peanut butter and jelly into a star.

“Y/n, we should probably hang up. You’re drifting off, babydoll.” 

“I d-don’t need sleep. I’m fine. Did I tell you that Cassiopeia is my favorite constellation?” her voice slurred from sleep that’s calling her, her eyes closed and barely able to hold her phone up. 

Bucky chuckled as he watched her breathing start to even out through the small screen on his phone, “Yeah, you did. Go to bed, Beck. I’ll call you after my shift.” 

“Pinky promise?” She whispered, eyes remained closed but she was smiling.

“Pinky promise, sweetheart.”  

Bucky’s never been what he would consider lucky. Yeah, he’s had a few wins over the years. Some big and some small. His most significant being his baby girl and he wouldn’t trade Ori for all the good fortune in the world but, he’s never been one of those guys that simply fell into the good stuff. He’s never stumbled into a new job because he was in the right place at the right time or happened to work with the love of his life. Bucky’s never been the guy that won the big-ticket raffle. He’s never had started with a straight flush in his hands on poker night. 

Then Y/n walked into his life with stardust sprinkled book pages, lemon pancakes and a heart that could start a raging fire if he let it. Something changed in his destiny the day he met her. It was a soft, simple sort of change. One you miss if you blink too many times. It wasn’t some big moment that led them here. She didn’t do anything that could be written in the lines of a song or played on screen for thousands to see. Their late-night talks would never be recited by others in sweetheart whispers, but he would take their story over any sonnet or ballad. 

It’s funny how it all happened. Bucky is the same man he was when they met, but there’s something about having her fingers weaved in his that makes him feel like he can be a better man; for her and Ori. It was a simple fall. So simple, he never noticed she was taking little pieces of him every time she said his name, every time she read to Ori or made his girl smile. It was just books and giggles and pancakes, and then, it wasn’t. In the blink of an eye, every laugh made him lighter, every phone call took another piece of his heart, and every touch changed the way he pictured his future. 

Bucky never planned to fall for her. He had no plans to fall in love and never thought luck would be on his side when he did, but his heart left his chest months ago without notice, and it’s been resting comfortably next to hers. 

And he never wants it back. 

Ori skips into the kitchen bringing Bucky back to the frenzied reality of his morning. His daydreams were much more beautiful to live in, but they are late, and if he doesn’t hurry along, he will never get to work. Ori climbs up onto her designated stool. Even she could tell they are late. Super, duper late as Y/n would say. Y/n doesn’t spend the mornings with them (with a birthday exception), but if she did, that’s what she would call their morning. 

She sends Bucky a quick ‘morning daddy,’ and grabs her fork, but her smile slowly fades as she looks down at her plate. This isn’t her usual breakfast. Ori knew something was off when she woke up this morning, but this? This is… this is… totally awful! 

“Eggs, daddy? They are bad luck!“    

Bucky groans and looks at the near-empty pancake container. He forgot about that, eggs always mean a bad day. His eyes travel to the clock above the stove, he just doesn’t have the time today. They are already an hour behind, and that meant he had to check Ori into the front office, making him even later for his shift. He walks over to his scowling daughter and presses a kiss to her forehead in an attempt to soothe the angry wrinkles set there.

"Comet, baby, they are just eggs. I need you to eat, yeah? I’m running really behind today, but I promise I’ll pick up stuff for pancakes after my shift." 

Ori sinks down in her seat and pushes the eggs around her plate. "Okay, but today is gonna be a bad day,” she grumbles sourly.

---------

What was it about working in an Elementary school front office that made people so grumpy and forgetful? Bucky has been in that front office over twenty times since Ori started Pre-K, and the lady at the front desk still acted like she didn’t remember him. He’s had to introduce himself to her every single time he comes into the front off. How many little girls are named Orion in that school that she can’t remember his name? 

Thanks to Ms.Forgetful, he was an extra twenty minutes late, and Steve gave him the look. Bucky hates that look. As if Steve has never been late before? Bucky recalls a time when he was strolling in late nearly every day with a dumb grin on his face and a smirking Sam following close behind. 

At least it turned out to be a slow day, and nothing was burning down. 

“Hey, so, uh,” Bucky stammers, propping his feet up on the chair in front of him and tosses his piece of bread onto his plate. “Can you guys keep Ori this Thursday? I’d ask Nat but thought you two could use the practice." 

Steve rolls his eyes, but doesn’t take the bait the same way Sam would. 

"I don’t think watching my Five-year-old niece will be practice for when we adopt a baby boy, but you should know that you don’t have to ask. We love having Ori over." 

"Why we gotta watch her?” Sam asks, a sneer on his face as he nudged the brunette's boots with his own from across the table. 

“Sam…” Steve sighs heavily. 

“I’m just askin’ is all! You got a date or just need a night off?" 

Bucky’s gaze flicks back and forth between the two men, and he finally deflates with a massive sigh. He may as well confess and let them get it out of their systems now. It would be less embarrassing that way. 

"I asked Y/n to come over, and I’m cooking her dinner. It’s not a big deal so let’s not make it a big deal,” He adds the last bit as his eyes land on Sam. 

"No big deal?” Sam screeches as he flies out of his chair towards Bucky. “This is huge, man! It’s taken you long enough to ask her out on a date. You’ve been talking for what six months now?" 

"Three and a half,” Bucky is quick to correct. 

Sam’s grin widens because of course, Bucky knows precisely how long they have been talking. Sam wouldn’t doubt he has it down to the minute. “Yeah. Right. Three and a half months. I thought we were going to spend the rest of our lives waiting for you to get a damn clue, but you finally got your head on straight and told her how you feel!” 

Bucky clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably in his chair making Sam’s grin fall, “Oh, for Christ–” Sam groans with a shake of his head. “You didn’t tell her how you feel did you?”

"There’s nothing to say. I don’t– we are still –” Bucky blows out a breath and sits up bolt straight. “It’s not a date, okay? I didn’t say the word date when I asked her to come over. She probably doesn’t even think it’s a date. We have done movie night plenty of times before and it's never been a date.”

"What did you say?” Steve prods before Sam has a chance to speak up. Bucky gives a slight shrug and meets his eye over the table, “I asked if she wanted to come over to watch a movie. I told her I could make dinner and that it would be just the two of us." 

"That’s a date!” Sam shouts excitedly.  

Steve dips his head to the side and smiles, “Sorry, Buck. I have to agree with my better half on this one. Sounds like you asked her on a date."  

Bucky opens his mouth to argue, but their zone lit up a call, and there was no time to yell at his dumb friends, they had work to handle. Even if they didn’t, Bucky had no idea what he was going to say because hell if his heart wasn’t praying it was a date. 

------- 

"Hey, there, librarian.”

Y/n wrinkles her nose at the nickname as Natasha walks into her office. She hasn’t seen Natasha since Ori’s birthday party. A twinge of guilt creeps up her chest because Natasha no doubt knows Y/n and Tony broke up, and she didn’t hear it from Y/n. Not that she has to tell Natasha everything. Still made her feel guilty. She slowly sits up and peeks out the large window in her office to find a head of bouncing curls bobbing through the children’s section. 

Good. That would give the adults a minute to talk.

"I’m not a librarian. I own a bookstore. There is a difference." 

"Is there?” Natasha asks and leans against the edge of her desk, chuckling at the look of annoyance on her friend’s face and the serious tone in her voice when she replies, “Yes, I don’t have a degree in library sciences, and I don’t work in a library. I sell books– you’re teasing me, aren’t you?" 

"A little bit,” Nat confesses. “So, what’s new with you? Skip the Tony part. I heard that news from a chatty blonde and his husband.”  

"Um, well…” Y/n’s eyes dart back out to the main floor. She wants to make sure Ori is not within earshot when they speak about a certain new development. “I think Bucky asked me out on a date but now that I’ve had time to think about it I feel like it’s unlikely it’s actually a date.” 

Natasha snorts and crosses her arms over her chest, "It’s very likely it’s a date, but why do you say that?" 

"It’s a movie at his place, and he offered to cook, and Ori is spending the night at Steve’s. I don’t know. It’s probably just a friend thing. How many times have we done a movie night since we met and it was never anything more?" 

Natasha is quick to refute every flimsy reason she just put forth, "How many times did he cook you dinner on these movie nights and when has Ori not been at the house?" 

"Never,” Y/n squeaks. 

“It’s a date,” Natasha confirms with a smug grin as she hops up onto Y/n’s desk. She spots something interesting resting on the corner by the picture Ori drew for her. She leans over and grabs before Y/n can stash it away. It’s two bracelets, thin black leather cord with a small silver star in the middle attached to brown paper.

It’s one of those wishing bracelets. They have a special saying and usually made with a certain person in mind. Mother, sister, boyfriend or best friend. This sounds very much like something Y/n would pick out for a certain dark-haired, blue eyed single dad.   She reads the label and her grin widens.  

Pinky Promise. I promise to wear this, so I never forget how lucky I am to have you. Close your eyes and make a wish, tie this bracelet to your wrist. When the bracelet falls off the wish you made will come true. 

“Did Bucky give this to you?” 

Y/n leans back in her chair and shakes her head, quietly admitting where those actually came from, “Um, not exactly. I bought that. As a gift. For Bucky. I thought – Well, we say pinky promise to each other. Did you know that? Anyway, we do, and when I saw it, I thought of him. It’s kind of our thing, and well, it had a star. I doubt he’s going to wear it, but yeah, it’s for him.”

Natasha hands it back over to Y/n who clutches it to her chest. 

It’s cute, and Bucky would definitely wear it for you. It’s pretty clear he would do just about anything for you.” Y/n tightens her hand around the bracelets and ducks her head to hide her smile from Natasha, but the red-head caught it. 

She will let it go this once.

“Y/n?” Ori asks from the doorway, nervously tugging at her braids. “I can’t find a book I want.” 

Y/n chuckles and slowly stands up not before putting her trinkets back in their rightful place by Ori’s drawing. She holds her hand out to take the little girl’s and follows her out onto the main floor. 

“What are you looking for?” Y/n ponders aloud, trying to mask the confusion in her voice as Ori leads her away from the children’s books. 

"A book about love?" 

Y/n grins and drops to her knees in front of Ori pulling the little girl to a stop, "Why? Are you in love, my starlight?" 

Ori doesn’t smile like she usually would, she simply shakes her head and whispers,  "It’s for daddy. He needs help. He’s good at loving me, but I don’t think he knows how to say when he’s in love.” 

It felt like someone had reached into Y/n’s chest and ripped her heart out. Bucky is in love with someone else? She can’t breathe. He’s been dating someone this entire time, and she didn’t even know. She was right all along Thursday night isn’t a date and Natasha is wrong; for once in her life. 

But why did it have to be this she was wrong about?

“Are you okay, Y/n?” Ori whispers watching her carefully. 

She focuses back on Ori and forces a smile the young girl would believe, “Yeah, starlight. I’m okay. Um, I’m not sure I have any books like that here, but I will keep an eye out and maybe order some, okay?” 

Ori nods and wraps her arms around her neck in a tight hug, “I hope so. We can’t wait forever, right?” 

Y/n swallows the lump in her throat and wraps her arms around Ori, giving her the biggest squeeze she can muster while her heart is breaking in her chest. 

“Right, starlight. We don’t wanna wait forever.” 

--------

The call wasn’t anything too serious. A car accident and only one of the drivers were hurt. There were small cuts, a few scrapes, and bruises, but everyone made it out okay. No jaws of life needed, and everyone is making it home to their loved ones tonight. All in all, it was a good call in Bucky’s book. It did push Bucky thirty minutes past the end of his shift though. Apparently being late is the theme of the day. Now he’s scrambling to get his gear put up, and get his bag together. He’s itching to see his bright-eyed comet, and he might have a call or two to make. 

"There a reason you’re trying to rush out of here?” Sam teases with a soft chuckle. “Got a pretty girl waiting for you or something.”

Bucky wants to be mad. He really does. He wants to tell Sam to fuck off because he doesn’t know what he is talking about. Things between him and Y/n aren’t like that, and he can shut his mouth, but Bucky can’t. He can’t bring himself to feel anything close to that thanks to the way his heart is beating, frantic and heavy. It’s about ready to crack his ribs with the way it’s thumping against his chest. All he can do is grin because, yeah, he’s got a pretty girl with a kind heart waiting for him to call and Bucky’s never wanted to see her face as badly as he does right now. 

His phone chimes. A message from Y/n, as if she knows he’s slowly fading away from the distress of not seeing her since last night; he misses her that much. 

But the message is not what he expects. 

[Beck]: Hey, I can’t make this Thursday. Something came up.  I’m really, really sorry. Maybe we can reschedule? 

Bucky’s heart slows as he reads the words over again. One more time just to make sure he’s reading it right. His world darkens; suddenly lemon seems too sour, the stars have dulled and those starry book pages are too tattered to read. He tosses his phone in his bag and slams his locker shut, silencing the soft murmurs stirring around him. 

 “Don’t worry about Thursday, Sam. Something came up.” 

Sam watches Bucky stalk to his car and looks back at Steve. He’s never seen that look on Bucky’s face before, absolute disappointment and it stung all of them.

 Bucky should have known better than to think– None of it mattered anyway. It wasn’t a date. It was a chance to see if she really felt something more, but if she realized she didn’t, it was better Thursday night didn’t happen. Besides, they are just friends and friends cancel sometimes. He isn’t mad at her. He could never be mad at her. Just… disappointed he wouldn’t get to spend the night with her. It’s no big deal though. Something could have come up. She doesn’t tell him everything. 

They are friends. Just… friends. 

After all, Bucky has never been one to just fall into the good stuff. 

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