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carewyncromwell · 3 years

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“It's just like déjà vu, me standin' here with you, So I'll be holdin' my own breath -- Could this be the end? Is it that moment when I find the one that I'll spend forever with?”

~“Gotta Be Somebody” by Nickelback

x~x~x~x

In 1941, the vampire called Bat Varney was murdered by the dark wizard Grindelwald for aiding the resistance movement organized by Ministries across Europe. Bat left behind many friends, including Danny Gibson @catohphm and the Selwyn-Ellison family @that-ravenpuff-witch -- but the person most devastated by Bat’s death was his most constant companion, Atticus “Grim” Grimsley @cursebreakerfarrier. Never in his life had the retired professor considered that he’d be the last one standing, out of the two of them -- and in his last days on earth, just before he died peacefully in his sleep at a ripe old age, all that he wished was that he might see his first true friend again. Little did Atticus know that -- in his last moments alive -- Bat had made a similar wish...praying that maybe he and his mate Grim could meet again someday, somewhere where Bat didn’t have to regulate how much or how long they touched...maybe even with his real face...as Robert.

About a decade after Professor Grimsley’s death, the only son of a well-respected Pureblood family started his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and was Sorted into Ravenclaw house. The boy -- appropriately enough also named Atticus -- wasn’t particularly popular at school, given his hyper-focus on his academics and on satisfying the high standards of his father. Not only was Atticus expected to bring his family honor and esteem, but he also had a rival at Hogwarts who he was expected to “outdo.”

Bartholomew “Barty” Gilbert (pronounced “JO-behr”) was the only son of an up-and-coming Pureblood family who’d just emigrated from France and made a lot of money investing in robe shops in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade alike. He was also now a Gryffindor in Atticus’s year, and Atticus’s father was very firm that Atticus not let the boy surpass him in anything. Although Atticus normally obeyed his father with a certain degree of reluctance, in this case, he didn’t like the thought of losing to Barty Gilbert either. Not because the Gryffindor wasn’t pleasant -- no, in fact, he was almost too pleasant...too amiable, too inoffensive. And that made it so that even though Barty got away with doing whatever he wanted without worrying about his family’s expectations, it only served to earn him more friends and admirers. Even before that, though, when Atticus had met Barty in passing before school, he still couldn’t help but dislike the other boy. There was just something off about him -- something Atticus could hardly put into words. It was like whenever Barty opened his mouth, he sounded wrong -- whenever he smiled, it looked wrong...even his eyes weren’t as they should be. There was something almost familiar about Barty’s auburn hair, face, and height -- and yet something was wrong. And it just made Atticus upset for a reason he couldn’t really explain. It reminded him of those times, when he was a very small child, when his mother would try to comfort him after he woke up sobbing and could hardly explain why. Something about someone with red eyes squeezing his shoulders, tears streaming down his face and laughing like his heart was breaking...

So Atticus was determined to throw himself into his studies and do everything expected of him. Just because Gryffindor Golden Boy Barty Gilbert refused to do things the right way didn’t mean he shouldn’t -- and Atticus knew karma would eventually go his way in the end, if he put in the proper work. It didn’t mean that he didn’t still sometimes feel somewhat resentful every time Barty Gilbert waved to him in the hall, his two best friends at his side. One of them was the most popular girl in their year (of course), another Pureblood witch named Cecelia “Ceci” Crouch -- the other was one of Atticus’s own dormmates, a poor Muggle-born boy who in third year had become Ravenclaw’s Star Chaser named Robert Bellamy. Despite sleeping in the same dorm for five years, Atticus and Robert had really never talked -- Atticus was focused almost exclusively on his studies, of course, but even Robert seemed actively disinterested in talking to Atticus. Perhaps it was because of how much Atticus kept sticking his nose up at his best friend Barty -- perhaps it was because of how much of a stick-in-the-mud Atticus was -- or perhaps it was for a reason Robert couldn’t quite put into words, the same way Atticus couldn’t completely explain his instant dislike of Barty.

One day at the beginning of fifth year, however, Atticus and Robert were forced to engage with each other when Professor Binns inexplicably decided to actually assign a paired homework assignment. (A possible result of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore casually reminding the History of Magic professor of a similar assignment he’d assigned his OWL class back in the days when he was still alive.) Although Binns of course didn’t remember any of his students’ names, he nonetheless paired Robert with Atticus. Neither of the Ravenclaws was particularly pleased, but none of them was the type to actively argue or complain.

After class, Atticus approached Robert outside the History of Magic classroom. Robert told Barty to go on ahead to the Great Hall and that he’d catch up. Once Barty was gone, Atticus uncomfortably questioned Robert about when they could meet to work on their oral report on the Witch Hunts of the 14th century.

Robert frowned slightly, his well-toned arms crossing casually over his chest.

“Hogsmeade weekend starts tomorrow,” he said placidly. “You occupied then?”

Unlike the rest of his classmates, Robert wore his bronze-trimmed blue Quidditch robes over his disheveled uniform, instead of his usual black school robes. Atticus couldn’t help but wonder if Barty Gilbert’s buddy just liked to remind everyone that he was one of Ravenclaw’s Chasers.

Pushing this faintly condescending thought aside, Atticus shook his head. “No -- I’m available.”

“Good. Meet me at the Three Broomsticks and we can talk there.”

He turned on his heel as if to go. Atticus couldn’t help but sputter and he quickly rushed in front of the other Ravenclaw to stop him from walking away.

“What is there to talk about? We need to get started right away!”

Robert raised his eyebrows. “Tomorrow isn’t soon enough for you?”

“The project’s due on Monday,” said Atticus seriously. “We’ll need to spend a good deal of time at the library, if we want to be prepared -- ”

“No need,” said Robert with a shrug. “I already know everything we need to know.”

Atticus couldn’t keep himself from quirking a disbelieving eyebrow. “Oh really? Robert Bellamy, slacker jock who always dozes off in History of Magic, knows enough about the Witch Hunts of the 14th century to get us an O on our oral report? Somehow I doubt that.”

Amazingly Robert didn’t react with anger -- instead his black eyes turned very cool.

“The Witch Hunts really can’t be narrowed down to just the 14th century,” he said in a very level, matter-of-fact voice appropriate to a professor. “Not only did the ‘witch hysteria’ phenomenon last well into the 18th century, until the Age of Enlightenment, but there was a lot of set-up beforehand that laid the groundwork for it. Witchcraft, specifically black magic, was considered illegal even in ancient times -- the Romans considered it a capital offense. And of course one can’t ignore how early Christians demonized pagan beliefs by associating them with witchcraft, hence why images of the Devil came to embody traits associated with the nature god Pan. The Witch Hunts of the 14th century largely came about because a bunch of Muggles got their knickers in a twist about an increased interest in necromancy and herbal remedies among the poor, spurred on by the printing and circulation of older Islamic texts. The fact that many of those people who had the most use for those herbal remedies were women -- frequently mid-wives -- scared the church as well, of course, given the sexism of the time. And of course when bad things happen and there’s no explanation for it, people love to find a scapegoat. Add a text like the Malleus Malificarum that tells the terrified masses all of their problems are the fault of evil witches to the mix, and Incendio -- you’ve got yourself a bonfire.”

Atticus was completely sideswiped. He caught himself staring with his mouth open, and quickly closed it.

“That...well...”

He felt very sheepish. His ears burned -- his mother would’ve been scolding him if she were there, for jumping to conclusions like that.

“...That’s really impressive,” Atticus said self-consciously. “Forgive me, I...I was very rude, just then.”

He brushed a loose piece of his dark brown bangs out of his eyes.

“...How did you even know all that? I don’t recall Professor Binns ever saying -- ”

“I doubt he did,” said Robert. Once again he didn’t seem the least bit offended by what Atticus had said and was currently grinning cheekily. “I got my hands on the fifth year History of Magic syllabus from an older student before term started. I went to the Muggle library and borrowed a whole stack of books about the Witch Hunts so I could read them over the summer.”

Atticus blinked. “Muggle books? But -- but wouldn’t that information be incomplete?”

“In some ways, yes. But honestly, magical history isn’t much better that way -- it leaves plenty of stuff out.”

“I suppose it does -- but Professor Binns expects you to know what he teaches too. That’s why he does those lectures.”

“And puts the whole class to sleep,” said Robert with a snort of laughter.

“That’s beside the point,” said Atticus firmly. “It’s good that you studied the material so thoroughly -- very admirable, in fact -- but there is a right way to do things, and falling asleep in class when your professor’s trying to teach you will only make it harder for you to get top marks.”

Robert shrugged. “Guess I don’t see the need to regurgitate my professor’s lessons like a parrot. And how do you know I don’t already get top marks? I don’t remember you ever asking to see my grades.”

Atticus faltered. “Well -- it’s just -- I never see you study.”

“Probably because you never leave the library,” said Robert with a rather mischievous smile.

The words were an unpleasant barb in the corner of Atticus’s chest, and his eyes narrowed to hide the slight hurt he felt. Noticing the shift in the other boy’s expression, Robert immediately put down all trace of humor.

“Only joking,” he said defensively. “Crimey...you really are too grim for your own good...”

As soon as the sentence had left Robert’s mouth, there was a strange, silent ping that seemed to ripple through both young men’s ears. The word “grim” had hit Atticus in the heart stronger than anything else Robert had said. The young Pureblood had stiffened sharply, and his expression tensed further when he realized that Robert too seemed to have suddenly gone oddly pale.

Did...did the word affect him too? Did he also find it so strangely, frustratingly, achingly familiar? Why?

The two stared at each other, both looking incredibly disconcerted. Then Robert, stuffing a hand into his pocket, quickly strolled past Atticus.

“...I’d better go catch up with Barty,” he muttered. His voice sounded oddly calm to Atticus’s ears -- almost evasively so. “Is tomorrow at noon okay?”

Atticus glanced over his shoulder to look at Robert’s retreating back.

“...Yes,” he said quietly.

Robert didn’t turn back around.

“Three Broomsticks?”

“All right.”

“Good. ...Bring some books from the library, if you want. I’m sure Madame Pince will have some suggestions I haven’t read yet. Just don’t tell her we’ll be at the Three Broomsticks -- poor thing would probably throw a fit if we spilled butterbeer on her books...”

With that, the Ravenclaw Chaser departed down the hall without looking at Atticus again.

Atticus didn’t move from his spot in the hall for a while afterward, unable to completely shake the heavy, invisible weight that had settled down on top of his heart.

He’dd only ever felt such a strange, irrational kind of déjà vu around Barty Gilbert before, but this kind...this kind was different, somehow. The feeling that accompanied Barty Gilbert made Atticus feel irritated for no reason at all. This one accompanying Robert Bellamy...it was cold, and yet also so soft at the same time -- like the feeling one has when they hear a beautiful, sad song...or when they wake up sobbing from a dream where someone is squeezing their shoulders, while tears stream down their brokenly laughing face...

#golden era #hphl #atticus grimsley #bartholomew varney #my art #my writing #au #reincarnation!au #OH MY GOD #REINCARNATION TIME BABY #let's give grim and bat a real happy ending shall we?!#I mean sure bat had a lot of happiness in his life before he finally died but he only lived a half-life as a vampire #and this way bat can be there for grim when he's younger so grim can live the life at hogwarts he deserved #without his father's influence looming like a shadow over him the entire time #also yay bat can touch! and actually grow up! and actually be a professor!#I see bat and crew being in cedric's year #so they'll be seventh years when cedric dies and just be starting careers when the wizarding war starts #of course we all know bat would join the order of the phoenix because...duh #but yeah so this means bat flies alongside cho chang!! :D #robert hasn't gotten the nickname 'bat' yet but he will #and of course atticus isn't 'grim' yet -- even in his original canon he only ever was okay with bat calling him that </3 #robert's discomfort around atticus really comes back to him seeming famiilar and yet 'off' too #in this case because grim is supposed to be happy!! he's supposed to smile!! he's supposed to dance and have fun!!#and yet he's this huge stick in the mud that has a beef with robert's BFF -- what's up with that?!#he really doesn't *dislike* atticus at this point but he is uncomfortable and unsure and when bat is uncomfortable he tends to disappear #in all universes bat does not like being uncomfortable or talking about things he doesn't want to talk about XD;;#also yeah bat is smart AF but is the type to only express it when his intellect is useful #he doesn't show off his intelligence by answering every question in class or sharing his grades or going to the library constantly #instead he most often expresses it whenever he's tutoring someone in something or when the knowledge solves a problem #so it's no wonder atticus had no clue that robert's not just a dumb jock XDDD

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thorne93 · 3 years

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The Stars Made Us (Part 21)

Prompt: In this world, you’re one of the “lucky” ones who got a soulmate, but what if the universe gives you more than you bargained for?

(Prompt challenge – You live in a world where your soulmate can write on their skin and you will get the writing on your own and vice versa. Where they can wash away the ink on their own skin, however, the writing is forever scarred onto your skin until you meet face to face)

Word Count: 1911

Warnings: angst and language throughout

Notes: This was supposed to be for @sorryimacrapwriter and their challenge like a year ago, I think? I still loved the prompt though and have been working on this story for quite some time. This aesthetic was made by @dontshootmespence, thank you so much! Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes, couldn’t have done it without you, as well as @carryonmyswansong and @arrow-guy and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo

Also, I’ve never really liked the whole soulmate AU thing idea, but this felt so right and it was amazing to write. I hope y’all love it too!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mordo began escorting you around, giving you a tour of the grounds.

“And that’s all,” he said as he turned around to face you two. “Now, at Kamar-Taj, we don’t allow distractions. That means that you will have to take refuge somewhere else.”

You frowned, looking between Stephen and Mordo. “Oh, I thought I could stay. I’m pretty far from home.”

“I realize that but here is a sacred area for study, training.”

“Well I just thought… Stephen’s all alone. I think he’d be much better suited if I was here, with him.” Panic started to course through you as you instinctively moved closer to Stephen.

“I’m sorry it’s just--”

“Can she really not stay?” Stephen suddenly asked. “The Ancient One already said she has a disposition for the mystic arts. Maybe she can help me with my study and training.”

Mordo began shaking his head. “I wish I could but--”

“Master Mordo, is our new recruit already causing difficulty?” the Ancient one asked as she stepped up to the three of you.

“Uh, Stephen and Y/N here would like to stay together on site. I have been insisting that unless they are both enrolled in the training, that they can’t both stay.”

The Ancient One nodded. “While it is true that we don’t advise distractions, I think in this case, Y/N here will be an asset. Soulmates are a very sacred and spiritual bond, something that I think Mr. Strange will need.”

“Are you sure?” Mordo asked, frowning. Clearly he believed you would not be a benefit.

“Yes,” she said as she looked at you and Stephen. “Welcome to Kamar-Taj.”

And off she went before Mordo showed you to your living quarters.

“Bathe, rest, meditate if you can. The Ancient One will send for you,” he instructed as lit a candle as he handed Stephen a small slip of paper.

“Uh, what’s this? My mantra?” he joked sarcastically.

“The Wi-Fi password. We’re not savages,” he said with a grin before leaving.

You and Stephen were now alone, and painfully aware of the quaint quarters of the single sized bed, a small chest of drawers, and a desk with a lamp. You never stayed the night at Stephen’s, and other than helping him shower, neither of you had done anything remotely romantic or physical.

But now, it was staring you in the face that you’d have to share a bed and live in a room as big as his walk in closet.

“So,” you said, dragging it out.

“So, uh, yeah, one bed,” he noted, gesturing vaguely to it.

“You know, I can just sleep on the floor.”

“That's preposterous,” he scoffed.

“Well, you’re the one in actual training. You’re the one with the damaged hands,” you reminded. “You need the real rest.”

“We could always… share.”

“Share?”

“Yes, soulmates share everything, right?” he asked with a bit of a cocky smile.

You let out a soft laugh. “Yeah, I suppose they do.” You put your suitcase on the bed and said, “Well, you relax, I’ll unpack us.”

He walked over and started pulling things from the suitcase, making you frown. “We can unpack. I have nerve damage, I’m not dead.”

A half smile lit up your face as you worked with him to get your clothes put away and you got your laptop out and connected it to the wifi. You sent an email to Charles to update him while Stephen got a bath.

The Ancient One retrieved him and you stood awkwardly in the room.

“Should I come with you two or…?” you asked unsure what to do while Stephen went onto this training.

“Mr. Strange should be alone for his training, but you’re welcome to explore the grounds or go to the library,” she responded with a soft smile.

“Thank you.”

“Be back,” Stephen said with a bit of a small smile. You nodded and they left.

You took up the Ancient One’s offer to explore. You got to learn the building you were in very well before Stephen ran into you in the hallway. You two got some dinner on the grounds, even though it was very late. There was a small kitchen that stayed open until midnight and they cooked small meals for people.

When you were finished, you went back to the small room where again, suddenly the tight quarters made you hyper aware of the situation.

“Uh, guess we should start getting ready for bed,” you said awkwardly.

Stephen raised his eyebrows in response. “Yes, I suppose we should.”

“Well, I’ll just… grab my stuff,” you said quickly before grabbing your things from the drawer and running into the bathroom.

This felt so odd. In one sense, it felt absolutely right. He was your soulmate after all. In another sense, it felt bizarre. Like an arranged marriage. Maybe Stephen was right about being “forced” to be with someone.

But, despite the awkwardness, you did feel attracted to Stephen. Although you’d only seen the unkempt version of him, you were attracted to his body style, his arms. You’d seen him entirely naked, but when you saw him that way, it was strictly clinical. Sex or physical attraction was the absolute last thing on your mind.

But now, the stakes were different. You weren’t his nurse anymore. You weren’t his cook any more. For right now, you were his companion. All of the other roles were stripped away. In this little room, you two were just two soulmates.

His wit and intellect helped too. You were a bit of a pushover for a guy with charm, arrogance, and a genius mind to back it all up.

You slipped into your shirt and shorts before taking a deep breath and exiting the bathroom. Stepehen was already under the covers, his eyes fixated on you as you walked over and put your clothes in a pile beside the bed. He was propped up on his elbow.

Without making much of a fuss, you just drew back the covers and got into bed, laying on your back. You stared at the ceiling.

“Is this uncomfortable for you?” he asked, clearly not fazed by the situation.

“No,” you managed to say, shaking your head.

“Is Charles okay with this?” he asked.

“Yes, he said I’m not his property and I can do whatever I please.”

He nodded in surprise. “Wow, quite the free spirit.”

“Understanding,” you corrected. “But enough about that. How was your first day? Did you learn anything?” you asked as you rolled to face him.

“Not much, but it’ll take time. I was given some homework, some light reading.” He gestured to the three books on the desk.

“Ah so just some pamphlets,” you joked back.

“Right. I’ll have them read in no time though. I’ll start at dawn.”

“Nothing determined about you,” you teased.

“You don’t become the world’s leading neurosurgeon because you’re a slacker,” he shot back.

You simply nodded in understanding. “I’m glad you stayed. I’m happy you’re doing this.”

This time, it was his turn to nod. His eyes went down to the sheets. “Not that I have much choice, but thank you.”

After a moment of quiet, you had a thought swimming in your head. “The watch… who gave it to you?” you asked.

“Jealous?”

“No,” you honestly answered. “Curious.”

“Christine,” he answered.

“Ah. Do you still love her?”

“A bit, yes, but, not enough for a relationship. We’re better as friends.”

“You don’t have to try and convince me, Stephen. If you still love her, that’s fine. I won’t come between you two.”

“First of all, I don’t lie to protect anyone, ever, so remember that. Secondly, I don’t love her like that, that’s true. Third, I never said I don’t want you to come between us.”

A heat rose to your cheeks quickly. This was the closest thing to romance Stephen had said to you. Sure he made a few nice comments here or there, but ultimately, they were more polite than anything.

“Right,” you said. “I’m sorry about your watch, about earlier. I wish I could’ve helped. I should’ve hit harder.”

“Do you always do that? Take the blame for someone else’s actions?”

You let out a soft chuckle. “Uh, I didn’t realize I did it. Um, I suppose, yes.”

“Must be a heavy burden to carry around all the time.”

You shrugged. “Not really.”

Stephen stared at you and you at him, both of you getting lost in each other's eyes. You never noticed how blue-gray his eyes were, how haunting they were. They held a mystery to them as well as a certain… tenderness.

“You’re going to do great here,” you suddenly said.

“Oh? How do you know that? Do you have a crystal ball? Or, no, wait, you’re psychic, that’s what the Ancient One was talking about, is that it?” he joked, laughing loudly.

You pushed him while laughing. “Okay, jackass. No, you’re a fantastic surgeon. Regardless of why you do your work, you must’ve done it very well for the paycheck you were getting. To be speaking at conventions and conferences. You love your job and this will get it back for you, so I know you’ll put your heart and soul into it.”

He looked down. “I do it because… because my sister was hurt once when I was fifteen. I helped her and I became fascinated with this idea of healing. But then, when I came home for my 19th birthday, we were swimming together and… she drowned. Doctors said her muscle cramped up and she couldn’t stay afloat. It seemed like i was only turned around for a minute, but I guess a minute was all it took.”

You frowned, feeling a wave of sympathy and sorrow wash over you. “Oh, no, I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks. Yeah, after that, medicine didn’t hold the same wonderful mystique about it. But I also became determined to save lives. It just wasn’t personal any more. If I couldn’t save her…” He let the idea hang in the air. “It’s just not good to get invested in your patients, because if they don’t make it…”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. Now it all made sense. He was terrified to get close to patients, to love people. He’d known loss, and didn’t want to experience it again, and to be honest, you didn’t blame him.

“I am so sorry you’ve had to go through that.”

He shrugged. “We’ve all had hardships, right?”

“Doesn’t make them any less heartbreaking.”

“You must think I’m an asshole, though. That my concern with the patients starts and ends with the bill.”

“I don’t think you see patients as a number, or a check waiting to be cashed. I think you just don’t emotionally involve yourself. Even if you did, what would it help? Clearly, not involving yourself has still got you world wide success and being known as one of the top surgeons in your field. So, motives aside, you do your job and do your job well. As a patient, that’s all I would care about.”

“And what about as a person? As a soulmate?” he asked, his voice low.

“My answer is the same.”

He smiled at you, touched by your answer. “There I go, underestimating you again.”

You smiled and laughed before the two of you drifted off to sleep, exhausted from a long day. But for the first time Stephen could remember, he slept soundly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#the stars made us #charles xavier x reader #charles xavier fic #charles xavier #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange

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missroserose · 4 years

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all you touch and all you see

“So...why are we here?”

A moment of silence. Fingers tighten around a trendy reusable mug. Green eyes flick up, meet his, far more sincere than he could have imagined, even a week ago.

“I can’t explain it. I’m just...more myself, when you’re around.”

Sam Wesson is dreaming. Well, half-dreaming; awake enough that he can tell that he’s lying in bed on sheets with some ridiculous thread count, covers bunched around his legs, the cool constant breeze of the ceiling fan blowing over his sleep-warm chest. At the same time, he’s sitting in the passenger seat of an old muscle car, rain tapping on the roof and hissing beneath the tires. The thrum of the V8 permeates his whole body as he flips through papers, research for the next job. The automatic reverse on the tape deck clicks over, and Sam wonders how many times Dean’s played this exact Led Zeppelin album on this very deck. A hundred? A thousand?

Dean. Dean is there in both worlds, beside him. He glances over to where this Dean is squinting through the rain. Takes in his scruffy jacket and worn shirt, hair standing on end in places, the ketchup stain on his jeans from his lunchtime drive-through burger. It’s such a contrast to the Dean beside him in the bed, the Dean of suspenders and suits and Brylcreemed hair, the environmentally conscious vegetarian Dean who wouldn’t be caught dead driving a car that got fewer than thirty miles to the gallon.

And yet, there are tells. Little commonalities, signs that the two of them aren’t as different as they might look. The way their eyes narrow slightly when faced with something they don’t immediately understand. Their absolute disdain for talking about feelings any more than strictly necessary. Their unbridled fierceness when they take on a threat, corporate or noncorporeal.

The way they both love Sam. Fierce. Devoted. Protective to a degree that makes Sam wonder, sometimes. Or would, if he weren’t every bit as smitten.

Sam isn’t sure what to say to that. It’s disconcerting, seeing Dean in casual clothes—still natty in a sweater and slacks, but his hair is carefully (and attractively) mussed, his posture a fraction looser. He keeps quiet, keeps his face open. Knows, somehow, that this is the best way to keep people talking.

“You bring out something good in me. If I’m going to keep climbing the corporate ladder, I need someone to help me remember I'm not actually in hell, you know?”

Sam can’t blame Dean for staying at Sandover, not really. He’s on the fast track, in a position most people their generation would kill for. Especially with the economy the way it is, steady jobs with good salaries and benefits are nothing to sneeze at. Working as an executive is prestigious; it’s not like he was a cubicle jockey, subject to the indignities of unflattering uniforms and unsavory coworkers. Dean is on his way up.

Sam, meanwhile, was on his way out.

The week after his slightly dramatic walkout, he’d been making serious plans to go hunting alone. Spent his days poring over newspapers, looking for strange deaths or weird occurrences; imagined sniffing out supernatural threats, saving people. He applied for a loan for a car—found a great deal on a Dodge Charger—and dedicated an afternoon to looking up supplies he might need to kit it out properly. It was terrifying and exhilarating reading, realizing how much might be out there, how many beings he had yet to encounter, how much studying there was to do. What to look for, what to pack, where to even begin.

Perhaps most saliently, his dreams—the strange, inexplicable dreams that had haunted him during his entire three weeks at Sandover, where he hunted things, where Dean was his partner, continually present—had stopped.

Then Dean Smith had called and asked him for coffee.

Dean’s eyes meet his again, just briefly, before dropping, a charmingly bashful smile spreading over his face. “Look, I’m not asking you to marry me or anything,” he says, rubbing the side of his neck, looking away. “It’s just, if you wanted...I think we could have a good time together.”

They do have a good time together—it’s a little surprising, really, the uptight executive and the slacker cubicle jockey pairing off. But they share a love of bad action movies, and a passion for video games; Sam hasn’t had his ass kicked so thoroughly and consistently in Halo 3 since college. But even beyond that, it was like their rhythms are aligned; they fall into cohabiting in Dean’s tiny apartment almost immediately, as if they’re already entirely used to living in each others’ pockets. Work during the day. Chores on weekends. And at night—

Well, of course, there’s the chemistry. The sheer blinding-white magnesium-flame heat of the two of them together, as bright-burning as it is undeniable. The way Dean’s eyes, green as his own, darken, pupils dilating, when Sam stands just a little too close. The pulse-pounding rush of need that hits him when Dean’s mouth curls up at one corner in just the right way, the way that indicates Sam is about to come harder than he ever has in his life. The soft, broken noises he knows Dean makes, that they both make, when they teeter together on the edge, a bare breath from tipping over, entwined.

“I know you don’t think this is our life. What we’re meant to be doing.” The words give the air around them strange twin taste—resigned and relieved, both. “But Sam—it’s a good life. It’s the life I’ve wanted, the one I never thought I’d be able to have. God knows my dad didn’t think I’d make it. Nobody did. But here I am.” His eyes meet Sam’s again. “Here we are.”

Those beautiful manicured hands on him feel right in a way Sam’s never experienced before. It’s not even sexual, not really—the sensation is there as much when Dean musses Sam’s hair as it is when Sam is shaking apart with Dean knuckle-deep inside him. There’s just something about the two of them together that’s...centering. Liminal. Like they form their own shelter, the eye of the hurricane when the chaos of the world is howling around them.

Sam asked Dean once if he felt the same. Dean had quirked a brow at him, given a little smile—”What, like some kind of past life thing? You going to start telling me we’re soulmates? Whatever you say, Samantha—” and yet there’s something in the way he touches Sam at times. Reverent. Almost disbelieving.

Like Sam, too, is something Dean had never thought he’d be able to have.

“I’ve got some connections at my old firm. I can make a few calls, get you an interview for a decent job.” He takes a drink of coffee, forcing a pause; shielding himself for a moment from Sam’s reaction. “I know it’s not your dream. But you could stay. With me.”

And yet, in a way, it is Sam’s dream. Because Sam’s been having dreams again, almost from the day of that fateful coffee date. Dreams where he and Dean do everything together that Sam had imagined, had read about. Where they hunt demons, vampires, demigods—creatures that make Old Man Sandover look like something out of Beetlejuice. Where they spend what feels like half their life in the boredom of long drives or library research sessions, punctuated by the heart-pounding adrenaline rush of a hunt, a fight. Where he and Dean save each others’ lives over and over, where they would die for each other, probably will sooner rather than later, but where they’re alive now, where they retreat victorious with whiskey or beer to their shitty motel room—

Somewhere more private. Lips swollen from kissing. A hand on the side of his face, long fingers threaded in his hair. Green eyes on his once more, open, honest. Vulnerable.

“I’d like you to stay. God, Sam—please. Stay.”

—and where they never, ever touch.

So Sam took the job. Let the loan application lapse, eventually deleted the various websites on ghosts and mythology and monsters from his bookmarks. He spends his days working in IT security, which is at least more interesting than tech support—it turns out he has a knack for breaking into systems, for getting into places he’s not supposed to be, for ferreting out information companies would prefer remain hidden. And his nights—well, if spending his nights in Dean Smith’s bed (and on his couch, and over his desk, and in his office chair, and) is the consolation prize for growing up and letting go of childish dreams, it turns out adult life has its perks as well.

He takes one last look at the scruffed-up Dean—still pretty, Sam thinks, fondly; there’s just no way to make a face like that look common—and lets the dream fade. The vibration of the engine, the hiss of tires on wet asphalt, even the dry-dusty smell of the Impala’s heater all grow distant; Sam moves his fingers, stretches, moves just enough to scoop his lover into the crook of his shoulder. Dean nuzzles him, murmurs a few nonsense syllables, and sighs, settling back into sleep.

Sam takes a deep breath through his nose. Hair pomade. Cologne. Sweat. Dean. It makes him happy, in the kind of way that leaves his chest a little tight, that brings tears to the corners of his eyes.

Most people don’t even get one life with Dean. He gets two. Gets to tread the thin line between them, the one where Dean is his perfectly ordinary lover, and the one where he’s—both more, and less.

As dreams go, he’ll take it, and be grateful.

#supernatural #sam/dean #smith/wesson #s04e17 it's a terrible life #wincest #my writing

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lovelyirony · 4 years

Note

For the otp ask, marianat?

love it!

Coffee shop AU: Who is the barista, and who frequents the coffee shop

Maria was not expecting much from the night shift. All she was expecting was the workers who worked late into the night, maybe some stressed college student, and one high school student where she would slide them a muffin or two “on the house.”

What she wasn’t expecting was a woman to show up promptly at midnight with the tallest heels she’d ever seen, perfect hair, and the most complicated coffee order maria had ever had to take.

She doesn’t question why she’s there, doesn’t question anything about her. Which is how Nat likes it. At least, until her enemies find out about her little routine.

Highschool/College AU: Who is the straight-A student, and who’s the backrow slacker?

Maria is absolutely the straight-A student, and she’s so frustrated because Natasha absolutely does not care about class at all. They have the same major, and Natasha just doesn’t? Even have a notebook?

It’s not until Maria is in a study group with her and Tony that she realizes that Natasha has just found an entire set of notes online from someone else.

“Work smarter, not harder,” Natasha says with a shrug. “I’ll share it with you if you come get coffee with me?”

Rivals to loves AU: Who takes their rivalry seriously, and who is half in it just to push the other’s buttons?

Natasha Takes It So Seriously. Like seriously, she’s so deadset on having an enemy. Maria finds it hilarious and actively encourages it. She will antagonize Natasha, and well...they get into situations.

Enemies to lovers AU: Which one switches sides?

Natasha switches sides. Maria is very confused when Nat is suddenly in her house and judging her mug choices.

“Seriously? No patterns? No jokes? Even I have jokes on my mugs.”

“Oh my bad, I wasn’t aware that you were ever going to get into my house, I’ll plan better next time,” Maria bites back.

(They go shopping for mugs.)

Soulmate AU: Who is eager to meet their soulmate? Who absolutely does not want to meet their soulmate?

Natasha is surprisingly the one who’s eager! She wants to be there for her soulmate, and she wants to meet the person that loves her and she loves them.

The words on Maria’s collarbone-unavoidable- are I’m going to kill you one day. So she’s not exactly jazzed about the whole thing.

Single parent AU: Which one is the single parent? (Alt. if they’re both single parents: Which one is open to starting a new relationship from the start? Which one is never planning on finding love again… Until they meet the other and are instantly smitten?)

Maria’s little girl has been her entire world. She’s a parent that’s all in. She structures her whole life around her daughter, and so what if it’s not exactly the best thing?

Natasha isn’t actively looking for love, although she’s not opposed to it. So when she meets Ms. Maria Hill at a back-to-school carnival after their kids get to be the best of friends...well. The school year just got interesting, and not just because of the new multiplication tables.

Doctor AU: Which one is the longsuffering doctor? Which one is the patient?

Natasha is the only doctor that can even handle Maria’s stubbornness. She’ll be limping on a broken leg insisting that it’s probably just a sprain. Maria is convinced that she can fix everything with ibuprofen and lemon-lime soda. Natasha is hoping to convince her differently, and maybe make her go see a different doctor.

You aren’t supposed to date your patients, after all.

Bodyguard AU: Who is the bodyguard? Who are they protecting? Which one is secretly pining for the other?

Natasha did not need a bodyguard. She was perfectly fine on defending herself from everyone, and just because technically she was infamous for her modelling career did not discount the fact that she was highly skilled in combat.

“Yeah, okay,” Maria says sarcastically. “You think that I can’t do my job right?”

“I never said that.”

“Then let me do it, your highness.”

“Oh my god, don’t call me that.”

Maria is very much so pining after who is technically her boss, in some respects.

She’s worried.

Pirate AU: Who is the pirate? Who is the member of the royal family who did not sign up for this?

Maria did not want to be a princess. At all. And so when Romanoff, the most feared woman in all the land and sea comes to their kingdom demanding all the riches, Maria steps forward.

“You’ll take me instead,” she says.

Romanoff gives her a look, up and down.

“You think your finery will hold up well aboard a ship?”

“No, but I have other articles.”

“I look forward to seeing them. Very well.”

Childhood best friends AU: Which one was super obviously in love with the other the whole time? Who was oblivious until they were older?

Natasha has been in love with Maria since they were eight and met at someone else’s birthday party and spent the whole day trying to sneak more slices of cake and eating the cake under the tallest tree at the park.

It’s still their spot growing up. It’s their spot when Natasha spreads out the blankets and she stares a bit too long and takes up art for a year as an excuse to draw Maria over and over again.

Maria was oblivious until she was in high school and really looked. It’s not a secret that Nat’s the prettiest girl in their grade, and she’s not sure what she’s doing always hanging around Maria, who up until this point has been the exact shape of a green bean.

#lovelyirony writes #maria hill #natasha romanoff #natmaria

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stluciasstudentjail · 5 years

Note

17A, 4B, 7B, 3B, 9B, 1C, 3D, 5D, 1E, 5E, 7E, 5F, 7F, 5G, 4I, 7J, 1L, 4L, 9L for the WHOLE DAMN SQUAD

17A What’s one of your OC’s proudest moments of themselves?

Renee: Leaving! Saying fuck it, kill me, idc I'm not working for you anymore and going off to do her own thing. It was terrifying and rewarding.

Alister: He really likes actually putting his skills to good use, so actually being able to subdue Cas who was fucking FERAL without killing him and helping talk him down was one of them bc actually getting out of a situation like that without having to kill anyone is rare.

Cameron: Insulting Steve to the point where he actually was at a loss for words. He got punched, but it was worth it.

Cas: There have been a few times when he's actually been able to stare down Kate and stand up for himself after he escaped and ohhh boy that gives him some sweet dopamine.

Rory: Drugging Lucas's food, locking him in the bathroom, and going off into the night. Truly iconique and also how she was able to run into Renee.

4B Do they tip well? How easily can they be moved to not leave a tip?

Renee: Always tips, but will tip extra depending on the service. 15-20 percent

Alister: Tips well, unless the waiter is *really* bad. 10-5 percent if they're shitty, 20 for everyone else.

Cameron: Tips what he can, which may not be a lot. about 15 percent.

Cas: Will tip the same regardless of service. 30 percent.

Rory: Will tip, but will NOT tip an extremely rude waiter. about 15 percent.

7b How do they respond to babies crying in public?

Renee: No judgement, of course. She'll give them a smile especially if the mother is embarrassed.

Alister: It doesn't bother him at all, but he'll let the parents comfort their own baby.

Cameron: Might try to make them laugh if they're especially distressed. He's pretty good at it.

Cas: Has no clue what to do, but wouldn't think of complaining about it.

Rory: Finds it a bit annoying of it's PIERCING, but knows it's not the baby/moms fault so she just hangs back.

3b Under what situations would they get angry at servers, staff, customer service, et cetera?

Renee: She's pretty patient with honest mistakes like getting her order wrong, but any overt douchebaggery towards her or other staff and she'll snap back.

Alister: He'll get snippy back at bitchy service staff, but he doesn't really care to sit there and argue unless he were ripped off or something. He'd say something at, say, a boss screaming at their employee.

Cameron: If he notices he's being passed over or not treated as well as other customers he'll say so.

Cas: No situation, really, unless he witnesses some sort of blatant discrimination.

Rory: She'll respond to rudeness with rudeness, but other than that she's a surprisingly easy customer.

9b What kind of humor does your OC like the most? Slapstick, ironic, funny sounds, scare pranks, xD sO rAnDoM…

Renee: Any kind of humor if it's done right, she likes to laugh but doesn't like anything over done.

Alister: Sarcasm and people being dragged

Cas: Funny, but harmless pranks.

Cameron: Pranks and gay chicken

Rory: Heavy sarcasm and teasing. But she does think some slapstick is kinda funny.

1c Does your OC have a moral code? If not, how do they base their actions? If so, where does it come from, and how seriously do they take it?

Renee: Simply don't hurt children/innocent people, and don't cause unneeded suffering, especially when she's out on her own. If she's really enraged that can flip, but not easily. Also, she tends to want to stay away from criminal activity in general.

Alister: prefers not to kill unless he has to. This tends to be flexible when encountering someone who hurts his friends/family as he has absolutely no qualms about killing them. He won't kill or hurt children.

Cameron: He wouldn't want to kill another person, full stop. The only way he'd do it is in defense of himself or someone else.

Cas: He doesn't like to kill, or even fight really. Obviously that depends on the circumstances, but still.

Rory: Let's just say all the children don't want to murder people

3dHow comfortable are they with the idea of death?

Renee: She accepted that it's the most likely thing to happen is that she'll die young, but isn't all that comfortable with it and tries to push the thought to the side.

Alister: Depends on the circumstances aka who murders him, but he'd rather not think about it.

Cameron: Uh, not. At all.

Cas: Sometimes he's okay with it, sometimes it terrifies him.

Rory: Would definitely rather not think about it either.

5d Do they believe in ghosts? If not, why? If so, do they think they’re magical/tie into their religion, or are they scientifically plausible?

Renee: Kinda indifferent, but isn't opposed to the possibility.

Alister: Nope, does not believe in ghosts or anything like that.

Cameron: Yes, and will equate any weird situation to ghosts.

Cas: Yes, but wants them far away from him.

Rory: Flips back and forth, but usually it's a yes.

1e Would you say that your OC is intelligent? In what ways? Would your OC agree?

Renee: She's clever, and good at manipulation when she needs to be. She'd agree emphatically.

Alister: Yeah, esp when it comes to planning things out or being generally perceptive. He'd probably agree.

Cameron: Yes when it comes to school/social situations and no when it comes to not being impulsive. He'd say he's smart, though.

Cas: He's more clever than he lets on, but is more book smart than street smart. He wouldn't describe himself that way.

Rory: She is, since she's an overachiever and likes to prove herself. She's also gotten herself out of a lot of bad situations, but is still impulsive. She'd say she's a genius, of course.

5e What’s their highest education level? Do they want to continue their education?

Renee: She actually got her diploma when she started working, just because she wanted more options to be open if she needed them. She was pretty far behind but she's a hard worker so it didn't take her long. She's not particularly interested in college, but wouldn't be against trying it.

Alister: Kinda hard to pinpoint, because as shitty as Soren was he did let him go to high school before making him drop out when it interfered with his work. Probably about a grade 11 level, which he would be interested in finishing up if he were more optimistic about being able to live a "normal" life.

Cas: He was taken at about 13, so he has the lowest education. However, he was actually bumped ahead a grade when he was still in school because he's actually quite studious. He would definitely love to go back with the right push and he'd be interested in college.

Rory: She's still in HS but she will definitely want to go to college and is very driven when it comes to her studies. (in the rp she probably wants to be like Rae and try computer science, but would probably branch off into something a little different)

Cameron: Still HS. He's a bit of a slacker and could probably do really well if he tried a bit harder, but it can be difficult to grab his attention. Once he gets to his senior year he'll start taking his education more seriously, though, and would do well in college.

7e Are they a good note-taker? Are they a good test-taker? Do exams make them nervous?

Renee: More likely to wing it and still do well, and she's good at pushing her nervousness aside.

Alister: Probably would be pretty good at prepping for that sort of thing, he wouldn't really be worried about it.

Cas: A nervous wreck, for sure, but would always do well anyway.

Rory: Is nervous about certain exams, but is usually confident and does well.

Cameron: Forgets to study and then is like Oh No...

5f How handy are they? Can they fix appliances, cars, cabinets, et cetera?

Renee: She can change a tire but if something in the house breaks she's hopeless and just calls for help. Mostly because it's tedious.

Alister: Knows the basics from living on his own but gets annoyed spending too much time trying to fix something.

Cas: Nope, everything goes right to the shop.

Rory: Not really, unless it's something small.

Cameron: He ain't handy, but maybe he'll learn.

7f What’s their “dream career” or job situation?

Renee: A professional dancer, of course.

Alister: Something where he could put his skills to good use without having to be reminded of his past, which could be a lot of things really bc he aint picky

Cas: Fuckin uh... he'd be happy with almost anything, but he'd prefer no physical labor and freedom to make decisions.

Rory: Maybe a type A business bitch or something along those lines

Cameron: He has nooo clue but right now he wants it to be something cool.

5G Did they go through any typical phases growing up?

Renee: She went through a very abrasive phase in her early to mid teens but mellowed out later.

Alister: He had some periods of recklessness in his teens, but that was quickly squashed out by getting his ass kicked whomstever adult he thought it would be smart to try and fight.

Cas: Before he was taken he was just starting to be in a bit of a distant, sulky "i'm so grown up" phase. It wouldn't have lasted long.

Rory: Aside from general bratty snarkiness, she had a terrible "mine" phase when she was two that was probably over indulged.

Cameron: He was THAT child who would start conversations with strangers out of nowhere and had to be watched carefully so he didn't wander off.

41 How often do they cook? Do they order out a lot?

Renee: Mostly orders out, but can cook if she needs to.

Alister: He cooks almost everything, unless he feels really lazy.

Cas: Absolutely cannot cook, so never. Mcdonalds err day.

Rory: Not often. She's pretty good at step by step baking, but not cooking.

Cameron: Can only make boxed mac and cheese...

7j How much interest in environmental health do they have?

Renee: A lot, will seperate her CANS but unfortunately cannot take short showers.

Alister: Doesn't really think about it that much, but makes at least a bit of effort to recycle.

Cas: Absolutely does not think about it, but if it were explained to him he'd go all out.

Rory: She cares, but doesn't really know what to do about it.

Cameron: Uses plastic straws :(

1l How have your characters changed since you created them?

Renee: She's gotten more toned down and intelligent, like she used to be hyper as fuck and kinda annoying. She's also more reserved and even a bit cold sometimes, whereas before she would probably slam her life story on a random stranger. Also, she has a bigger temper than before.

Alister: haha ohhh boy, like. He's not flirtatous or weird anymore at ALL, he's closed off and grumpy but at the same time a better person and not a fucking freak. Also weird but he went from being a male pre renee to being really mean to the point of being insufferable before getting more balanced.

Cas: He came off as a bit more insidious in that he liked to fuck with people by saying weird, creepy serial killer things and put everyone off. Now most of his inappropriate comments are because he's socially unaware, not on purpose.

Rory: She used to be a bit of a dumbass and really, really mean as opposed to just sarcastic and socially awkward oh and she looked like shit but they all did so.

Cameron: He was more... normal. Like, less outgoing and really average/lowkey boring until he got fleshed out more.

4l Would you hang out with your OC if you could?

Renee: Yeah, why not lol

Alister: fuck no

Cas: In short bursts, maybe.

Rory: hard pass

Cameron: nope, esp not the kids.

9l How did you come up with your OC?

Renee: she was based on irene adler from the benny crumpleton show hence her early annoyingness. She's not like her at all now.

Alister: I literally only made him because I didn't have any male characters and he was designed purely for Edge.

Cas: I deadass just wanted someone to fuck with the squad

Rory: I wanted a female character who was antagonistic and fucked these people over but. she did no such thing.

Cameron: an accessory to Alister's backstory yo.

#oc tag #bakugosucks

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faeriydust · 6 years

Text

- Task 001 : -

BASIC INFORMATION.

FULL NAME. Tinka Clementina Bell

PRONUNCIATION. tin-kah clem-in-tēēn-ah bell

MEANING. “heavenly;” there’s no familial significance that she’s aware of

BIRTHDAY. May 30, 2000

PLACE OF BIRTH. portland, oregon, U.S.

ZODIAC SIGN. gemini; adaptable & gentle / moody & unstable

NATIONALITY. american

ETHNICITY. bulgarian & french (mother); israeli (father)

OCCUPATION. student, free-lance repairs

GENDER IDENTITY. cisgender female

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.

EYE COLOR. green

GLASSES / CONTACTS? she owns a pair of glasses for near-sightedness but refuses to wear them ever around anyone

HAIR COLOR & STYLE.

pale blonde and ever-messy, tinka has never been particularly attached to her hair. it grows like a weed, long and unmanageable-- worsened by her constantly forgetting to brush it. growing up, it was a mess of curls, thick and terrible to comb through. she’d avoid dealing with the pain of knots by tying it away from her face, until even that became too unbearable in the heat of the summer sun, and then she’d let peter do something like shear it off to her shoulders with scissors swiped from whatever relative she was currently living with’s kitchen. one time, she let him cut it as short as his, and pretended she was a true lost boy, and not the tag-along girl that peter protected but everyone secretly made fun of anyways. now that she’s older, she’s taken a little more responsibility for it’s upkeep-- which isn’t to say she still wouldn’t let peter cut it, or that she hasn’t, or that she hasn’t cut it herself a number of times, too. but she works to keep it smooth, and clean, and her curls have mellowed out some. her best secret is that she uses a satin pillow case-- something she bought, brand new, a rarity for her-- to keep it frizz-free and calm. these days, it falls thick and heavily down her back, and she mostly wears it loose like that, and unstyled. otherwise, it’s up-- always, always in a bun, high on her head but a bit untidy, with pieces falling loose around her face, her signature look

HAVE THEY EVER DYED THEIR HAIR / WANTED TO? no; while tinka has many girlish impulses and indulgences, she’s never been one to put real, focused energy into her appearance for any extended length of time (as mentioned above!). it’s just not something she thinks about (and maybe that’s got something to do with growing up surrounded exclusively by boys-- but also, a lot of it is just how she is, anyways)

HEIGHT. 5′1″ / 1.54 metres

PHYSIQUE. petite.

tinka is tiny. not just skinny or small-- she’s a tiny girl. most of her relatives called her a pixie, as short and fragile as she was as a child. not much has changed since then, really; she’s just toeing the line of five-foot-one, and underweight for her age bracket (even though she can eat like a horse); her hands are small and bony, her feet a size five (she usually just buys kid shoes because they’re cheaper anyways); her biceps can be circled in one of peter’s hands, her wrists in both. she’s always been bothered about her shortness-- especially because it’s made her the butt of more jokes than she’ll ever keep track of. at the same time, she doesn’t do much to counteract it. at the least, she’s certainly sticking with her green flats-- it’s just the way she is. whatever

BIRTHMARKS, a tiny white splash above her left elbow crease; another on the back of her left thigh

PIERCINGS / TATTOOS. none; she wouldn’t mind getting a tattoo if it had significance around it (ideally something she’d end up doing with peter-- she’s entertained the idea of a tiny star or a tiny crocodile somewhere or other)

LIFE STYLE. messy & disorganized / eclectic & unplanned

PERSONAL STYLE.

tinka’s a firm believer in borrowing. so much of what she owns usually is nicked from somebody else-- namely peter, or one of the other lost boys, which winds up with her wearing a lot of things that just don’t fit her. every t-shirt she sleeps in, most of her sweatshirts, and a number of jackets that crowd her closet space and swallow her whole were never hers to begin with. sometimes, she’s fortunate enough to be lent something from someone like Ariel, or, once, Wendy, and she’ll cling to those articles for as long as she can, even purposefully damaging them-- a hole in a tank top, a stain on a t-shirt-- just so that she can keep them longer. which is messed up-- but tink really hates shopping. when she DOES venture to buy clothing for herself, it’s almost always second-hand, thrifted dresses and mid-90s bebe tank tops, worn in jerseys and oversized jumpers, and cheap, plain skirts. the only things she’ll ever buy new for herself are shoes (unless she’s lucky enough to find a cute kid’s pair at goodwill) and pants or shorts, because it’s difficult to thrift anything as tiny as she really needs it. (also underwear and bras-- but that goes without saying?). even then, she’ll work hard to find ways to make those new items different or unique to her-- sharpie doodles or sewn-on sequins to a pair of denim shorts, hemmed sundresses, patches on denim jackets, pom-poms attached to a green pair of flats-- always something. what she most loves to wear, though, is one of peter’s gigantic sweatshirts, and a pair of old denim shorts (or, if it’s colder, jeans). honestly, if she can get away with it, you’ll always find her in one of peter’s sweatshirts.

PRONE TO SICKNESS? not really. she used to eat dirt and worms on lost boy dares; she secretly credits her strong immune system back to those. when she does get sick, though, she gets sick bad-- i’m talking, in-bed-under-a-pile-of-tissues-crying-because-she-feels-so-gross, absolutely-needs-someone-to-take-care-of-her-even-if-she’s-mostly-overreacting sick

SCARS / DISTINGUISHING MARKS OR FEATURES. her hair in a bun-- if that counts-- is definitely distinguishably tink. also, a scar that splices her right eyebrow into uneven half; a big pale scar on her left kneecap; a puckered pink scar on the back of her left elbow (both earned in peter’s company, and probably through peter’s own fault)

FAVORITE FEATURE. her nose and eyebrows

LEAST FAVORITE FEATURE. her hands

PERSONALITY.

POSITIVE TRAITS. loyal, generous, passionate, open-minded, trustworthy, dedicated, patient, detail-oriented, creative, attentive

NEGATIVE TRAITS. moody, short-tempered, judgmental, petty, possessive, indecisive, argumentative, envious, paranoid, disorganized

BEST / WORST PART OF HER PERSONALITY. one-hundred-percent the best part of tinka’s personality is her loyalty; there’s little she wouldn’t do for the select few she deems important to her, and likewise little she wouldn’t forgive them for. she’ll go out of her way to make those people feel special-- whether it be through making them special things or defending them, violently if necessary-- and put real effort into her relationship with them. on the flip side, one-hundred-percent the worst part of her personality is her inability to reflect on her own actions, particularly when she’s upset. no one ever taught tinka the values self-reflection, or even “putting yourself in someone else’s shoes,” which means that if she gets emotional-- which isn’t hard, she’s very sensitive-- she’ll fly off the handle without stopping before to consider why it is she’s upset, exactly, or afterwards to consider whether or not she was acting rationally or fairly. it can make her really hard to be around, and harder still to get close to

INTROVERTED OR EXTROVERTED? introverted (to the max)

HIDDEN TALENTS. she’s got deft fingers that are perfect for picking at / tinkering with tiny objects for hours, which is why she’s soooo talented at making imaginative new things out of borrowed or lost items, and also, more technically, good at repairing broken mechanical things, like watches or alarm clocks or, once, a bike chain. she’s also surprisingly good at cutting hair, from all the times she’s given herself impromptu hair cuts

BIGGEST FEARS. being absolutely alone, feeling betrayed, & falling from great heights

PHOBIAS. agoraphobia (fear of open/crowded spaces, triggered by social anxiety & fearing social embarrassment); aracnophobia & orphidiophobia (fear of spiders and snakes, respectively)

SECRET SOFT SPOT? she loves kids

3 PET PEEVES. talking for the sake of talking; chewing gum with your mouth open; people that talk over other people

EDUCATION.

EDUCATION LEVEL. high school graduate / freshman (going on sophomore!) in college (studying art & engineering (loosely)

FEELINGS AROUND SCHOOL? growing up, tinka tended to follow peter’s lead on everything-- which resulted in her being a poor student and skipping a lot of class. a lot. speaking for herself, she doesn’t mind school-- the routine can get a little boring, a little unbearable, but she likes to learn. her senior year of high school was her most successful, mainly because peter’s influence was absent during that time; she didn’t skip as much, and as a result allowed herself to become more invested in what she was doing there. she even wanted to go to college-- and it’s a choice she doesn’t regret. as long as she feels challenged by what she’s doing, she’s receptive to learning it. when something comes too easily, it’s hard to make her care, though

TYPE OF STUDENT. the slacker, for sure-- mostly because she only tries if she feels like she cares, and a lot of what goes on in school she just doesn’t care about

FAVORITE SUBJECT. woodshop & art-- things where she can use her hands

LEAST FAVORITE SUBJECT. calculus & gym

MOST LIKELY TO... put something off until tomorrow

FAMILY.

WHO ARE YOUR CHARACTER’S PARENTS? tinka never knew her biological parents; she knows she lived with them in Portland until she was 2, but only because she’s been told so-- she possesses no real recollection of them as people. for most of her life, tink was shuffled between relatives, always temporary, mostly distant. she wasn’t an orphan by any technical means, but she connected with peter & the lost boys all the same as a result

HOW WOULD YOUR CHARACTER DESCRIBE THEM? tinka wouldn’t talk about them even if she were asked. there’s nothing to remember and, quite honestly, that doesn’t bother her much. she’s never felt like she’s needed her parents, or been interested in looking for them, or anything like that

DO THEY HAVE ANY SIBLINGS? none

ARE THEY CLOSE WITH THEIR FAMILY? not really

ROMANCE & SEXUALITY.

ROMANTIC / SEXUAL ORIENTATION. biromantic (demiromantic?) / bisexual

RELATIONSHIP STATUS. single

EVER BEEN IN A RELATIONSHIP? no :(

EVER BEEN IN LOVE? OK this question depends entirely on the point of view it’s answered from. tinka wouldn’t say so, but she’s not the best at honoring what she’s feeling-- especially if it’s messy and complicated and hard to hash out. but i think it’s safe to say, objectively, that, yes, she’s been in love (and still is) with one particular person

HOW EASILY DO THEY FALL FOR SOMEONE? not easily at all! in a similar vein to the way she forges friendships-- which is to say, few and far between, and through lots of labor, particularly on the other person’s end-- she’s not at all quick to fall for someone in a romantic capacity. she could probably never love somebody without being friends with them first, anyways-- it’s just a part of the way she forges emotional connections with other people. it takes a lot of trust on her end to get to loving somebody like that (which is maybe why she’s surprised that, after only ~seven months or so, she feels the way she does about john)

WHY HAVEN’T THEIR PAST RELATIONSHIPS WORKED OUT? probably because she’s never had one

IDEAL TRAITS IN A PARTNER. someone that she feels is loyal to her, over anyone else; someone who compliments her and makes her feel like an individual; someone who isn’t afraid of anything; someone patient; someone who lets her steal all their sweatshirts; someone at the same level of thoughtfulness as her; someone gentle & tender; someone bold

DO THEY BELIEVE IN LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT? OR FATE? it’ not that she doesn’t believe in those things happening, but she definitely doesn’t believe it could happen to her. fate, at least, is easier to invest in than love at first sight

VIEWS ON ROMANCE. for all the reasons mentioned above and also because she’s just really socially inept, tinka doesn’t really pursue romance. she thinks about romantic things, and wants them to happen to her-- truthfully, she’s fostered a million and one romantic fantasies, at all levels of explicitness-- but, as a person primarily driven by situational emotion, (aka very attached to what she’s feeling when she’s feeling it, and letting those feelings-- however irrational-- dictate her actions) she only ever “makes a move” if she feels like the moment calls for it

FIRST TIME HAVING SEX. she’s a virgin! gasp!

VIEWS ON SEX. she’s a virgin, but not a prude; she feels generally indifferent about other people’s sex lives, so long as everything is consensual

TURN ONS. lots of eye contact, being kissed on the neck or the ear, someone’s fingers in their mouth

TURN OFFS. forcefulness, arrogance, hair pulling

EVER BEEN CHEATED ON / CHEATED ON SOMEBODY ELSE? not unless peter inviting wendy to go to neverland instead of herself counts (which she pretty much thinks it does)

FEELINGS ON MARRIAGE? tinka hasn’t planned that far ahead, but probably not?

HAVE KIDS? she’d tell everyone no but, secretly, like, YES

QUIRKS.

ARE THEY RIGHT OR LEFT HANDED? ambidextrous, but right-hand dominant

WHAT’S A WORD THAT’S ALWAYS ON THEIR LIPS? “stop.”

CURSE/SWEAR? a lot, particularly with “shit,” “fuck,” and “christ”

WORST HABIT. speaking without thinking about what she’s saying

DRINK/SMOKE? tinka does both, although she definitely prefers getting high to getting drunk. she can still function on weed-- but when she’s drunk, she’s messy. in the early months of peter’s disappearance, she got high almost every day-- she still likes to roll herself spliffs and smoke them in bed, habitually. she’s a social cigarette smoker (”social” as in, smoking with the lost boys) and she also was gifted a vape once, which she used way more back then than she does now

EARLY BIRD OR NIGHT OWL? night owl-- mostly out of habit

HOW TIDY IS THEIR ROOM? NOT TIDY AT ALL. i don’t think anyone is every truly prepared for how untidy tink’s room is. she’s got a mattress on the floor shoved against her wall and that’s about the only point of refuge. she keeps her clutter piled on desks and in milk crates, and everything else lays strewn across her floor. she’s also a tiny bit of a hoarder

HOW LONG DO THEY USUALLY TAKE TO GET READY? not long. since most of her clothes are on her floor anyways, and she favors peter’s sweatshirts and t-shirts, all she really has to do is roll out of bed, grab what’s closest, and brush her hair (if she remembers to do that). there’s no routine involved

FAVORITES.

FAVORITE COLOR. green

FAVORITE MOVIE. napoleon dynamite

FAVORITE MUSIC GENRE. she doesn’t have a particular genre, but she listens to a lot of music like glass animals, daughter, wet, and 6lack (particularly songs like these: x , x , x , x )

FAVORITE FOOD. she likes to eat vanilla yogurt with chocolate chips in it

FAVORITE BOOK. the chronicles of narnia, by C.S. lewis OR howl’s moving castle by dianne wynne jones

FAVORITE DRINK. orange juice, no pulp

FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR. mint chocolate-chip

INDOORS OR OUTDOORS? outdoors, duh

#carthaytask #carthaytask001 #fashionably late to the game as usual #so four wings were clipped off and two remained: headcanon.

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themoguls · 3 years

Text

"Humble Beginnings And You" by David Pailin Jr.

In the not so recent past, I was an employee at a local Best Buy. As a fresh college grad, I was doing what I could to pay the bills while avidly looking to start my ideal career. One day I was helping a father and his son select a new computer. The father and I engaged in a little small talk during the sale, and I was asked about my schooling and extracurricular interests. Speaking candidly, I let him know of my accomplishments in college and my field of study. After I finished, his son looked me dead in the eye and snickered, "all of that just to work at Best Buy." I was stunned. Not only with anger, but with humiliation because I thought his words had truth in them. The dad quickly tried to do some damage control, but the words had already taken their toll. Life sure has a way of kicking you while you're down, huh? Luckily for you and me, jobs don't dictate our self-worth. We do.

The Bottom to Top Theory

Sure I knew I graduated with honors, and that was just a temporary job, but the reality of not being where I wanted hurt. Badly. These feelings are shared by many laborers who seem to be at the very bottom of their organization and at a mental crossroads. The truth is, that story is the best thing that ever happened to me. Have you ever met someone that has been given everything they have ever wanted? Whether it be from parents or some other donor, life to them is a blurred existence where needs and wants are almost indistinguishable. This might not be so bad if it wasn't for the fact that they are actually cripplingly inept. How would you know the true value of food if you were never hungry? How could you appreciate joy if you never cried? How can you be of worth if you never had to develop any skills? The understanding and humility that the road to success brings cannot be replaced or duplicated by any other means. Even though the media likes to promote that anyone can be rich and famous at any given second (just get a reality show about your life). They also like to detail the painful decline of stars that lost their shine. Think about it for a second. The people at the lowest levels of a company; 1. are purely evaluated by their craft 2. are most familiar with the goods and services, and interact with the customer on a daily basis (3.) Gone are the theories and the corporate rhetoric; only the people in the trenches fully know what needs to be sold, what isn't being sold, and what's not going to sell. No matter how brilliant or lucky you are, your effectiveness will always be limited if you don't have this experience. This is also why people who prey on others and cheat their way to the top never reach the same level of success as those who did it legitimately.

Consider the bald eagle. If any outside source helps or aids the eagle chick break out of its shell, it will never be able to fly, and it will eventually die. The baby eagle has to develop the strength on its own to break out of its shell, and only with that strength will they be able to fly. If you are starting off at the blue-collar level soak in your surroundings, you are enduring the very essence of business. The flaws, errors, and unmet desires that you see are the ideas that CEOs spend millions to alleviate. After you master the things around you, you will be able to soar to the career of your dreams.

The Grind

If one thing is understood in entry-level, everything you do can be traced directly back to you. You're not the manager, so you can't point the finger to your subordinates. You aren't apart of a board so that others can share the blame if something goes wrong. You alone are solely responsible for the assigned work, and there is a never-ending supply of peers for your work to be compared to. Even if you hate your job, your work is reflective of yourself. There are those that get the job done but aren't worried about the fine details. There are those who care about the details too much to ever get the job done. Even still, there are others who have to have it perfect every time, and finally, there are slackers who don't care at all. It's easy to see who is destined for better things and who is destined for mediocrity. If you don't work, you don't eat, that's life. There are parts of every job that no one wants to do, and if you want to get to a place where you have less and less undesirable parts, your work will have to speak for itself. Most promotions and references start and end behind closed doors. Your customers, peers, and supervisors will be letting the world know far more about your work ethic than you ever could by yourself. It will speak for you regardless if you want it or not, but you dictate what it will say.

The Prominence Perspective

As much as I felt bad about that kid's slick remarks, the truth was he didn't know me. He didn't know what I'm capable of, nor the people that I knew. I had plenty of things going for me before that time and many more afterward. Someone who hasn't known you for more than 5 minutes can never compartmentalize your future. Even if they have known you your whole life, all it takes is one opportunity (when preparation meets favor), and your life can be changed. Forever. Your life is a myriad of courses, filled with quizzes, tests, and cumulative examinations. Just because you might start at a lower class than someone doesn't mean you're off track. You may not need the harder lessons they have to endure, and they probably aren't built to handle the ones you are facing.

We are all uniquely and immaculately fashioned. Although it's hard to stay in your own lane and not get frustrated, you have to sacrifice for the success you strive for. Are you fine with irregular hours? Can you handle getting paid exclusively at the whim of any stranger you service? Could you hold your ego intact after being told you're not good enough time and time again? Well, actors/actresses can, and for years this is their existence. They go through many people's hell before they see the fruits of their labor, but the results are indescribably sweet for those who are committed.

Life has a funny way of taking the ones most likely to be looked over and making them the overseers. The person you didn't even want to tip last week might be tomorrow's leaders in a blockbuster film. People who have never seen the bottom won't stay on top long, and those with ambition will always get recognition. I encourage you to celebrate your hardships. They are the beginnings of your E! True Hollywood Story, the one you are shaping every day.

#career #money

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isthatbloodonhisshirt · 6 years

Text

Tutoring the Tutor

For @sterekgala‘ s Sterek New Year’s Extravaganza.

Ao3 Link on the collection.

It was starting to get a little annoying, if he was being quite honest. He was getting a little frustrated and knew that he was going to start snapping soon, which he felt would’ve been entirely within his right.

“Come on, then. Give us a look.” Isaac leaned into him heavily, attempting to see over his shoulder as Derek tried valiantly to keep his parchment away from his friend. “Derek, it’s due in ten minutes, just a quick peek!”

“You’re not going to be able to peek during your NEWTs, you might as well start anticipating failure now.”

“That was harsh,” Isaac insisted with a small pout. “After all we’ve been through together.”

“All the detentions you got me, you mean.”

“Half of those were Erica,” Isaac argued, pointing to the girl in question, who was lazily turning pages in her book, head held up in one hand, and her boyfriend Boyd pointedly ignoring them.

Derek just rolled his eyes and kept his parchment hidden away from Isaac. Really, it was his own fault for not having worked on it sooner, he knew how strict McGonagall was. He should’ve known better.

Isaac was still trying to fight him for his homework, Derek managing to keep it to himself mostly, when he heard someone say his name. He turned and saw their Head of House, Professor Sprout, waving him over from the other end of the library.

Wrenching his homework away from Isaac, he rolled it up and gathered his books, telling them he’d see them in class, and then headed for Sprout. She smiled at him as he approached, and then motioned out of the library.

He followed without a word, a part of him wondering if maybe he’d done something wrong, but he knew that couldn’t be right. Isaac often got them both in trouble, but it was never anything that he worried would get him expelled. Whatever Sprout wanted, it was likely nothing.

He followed her outside the library and she asked what his next class was before slowly heading in that direction. He figured she wanted to speak with him while making sure he wasn’t late for class.

“How are your studies going?” She asked kindly while they meandered slowly through the corridors.

“They’re fine, I think. Just trying to focus on the harder courses so I’m ready to take my NEWTs in the spring.”

Sprout looked at him fondly. “I remember your first day here as if it were yesterday. I can’t believe you’re already seventeen, in your final year. You were such a quiet little one, it’s amazing how far you’ve come.”

Derek tried to squash the embarrassed flush creeping up the back of his neck. He had always liked Professor Sprout, and he remembered being extremely pleased when he got sorted into Hufflepuff. He hadn’t ever felt like he suited any of the other houses, and he actually liked being in Hufflepuff a lot, even if he was stuck rooming with Isaac, who literally did everything in his power to get them in trouble.

Derek’s immediate family was actually one of the only ones who’d hit all four houses, none of them having been sorted into the same one.

His mother had been in Ravenclaw when she’d been coming to Hogwarts, and after having married their father—who was a muggle, and extremely patient for being stuck in a house with four magic users—they had had three children.

The eldest, Laura, had been sorted into Gryffindor. When she was in her second year, Derek had arrived and been sorted into Hufflepuff. Two years later, with Derek a third year and Laura a fourth year, their youngest sister Cora had started her first year and been sorted into Slytherin.

One family, four houses. Derek felt like he got the best deal.

“I’ve a favour to ask of you,” Spout said after another bout of silence.

“All right,” Derek said, frowning slightly at his professor.

They stopped at the end of the corridor in one of the open areas. People were talking and milling about, some of them heading for their next class while others headed for the Great Hall or the library.

“I’ve got a student in my Herbology class. Brilliant student, very talented, but it seems he’s expressed concerns with professor Flitwick about his struggles with Transfiguration. He’s concerned he won’t pass his OWLs and get into the classes he needs for sixth year.” She smiled sadly. “He’s a good lad, just easily distracted. Professor Flitwick said the student mentioned speaking to professor McGonagall about her best seventh year student, and she told him that it was you. I was wondering if you might be so kind as to help him with his studies this year. I know you have your exams to consider in the spring, but look at it as additional revision. Everything he needs for his OWLs, you will also likely need to review for your NEWTs.”

Tutor? Derek wasn’t exactly the best person to be tutoring someone else. He was grumpy and quiet and impatient. He hated slackers, despised skivers, and mostly liked to just stick to his own group of friends.

If he agreed to this, then he would be missing out on a lot of time with Isaac, Erica and Boyd.

Well, maybe not Isaac, since they roomed together.

But at the same time, everyone knew he wanted to go into teaching. Some of the professors at Hogwarts were going to retire in the next few years, and Derek was interested in seeing if he could get one of the teaching positions. Dumbledore wouldn’t even consider him if he didn’t show he could do this. Tutoring would be a good stepping stone to teaching.

And Sprout was right, tutoring someone else would help him study at the same time, so it wasn’t a terrible idea.

“Sure,” he finally said. “I can try for a bit.” He figured if the guy didn’t work hard enough or sassed Derek, he could always just drop him.

“Great. He’s a Ravenclaw fifth year named Mieczyslaw Stilinski, but everyone calls him Stiles.”

Derek almost groaned but managed to refrain. He knew the name, mostly from Cora. They were close friends, but the Hale siblings all did their own thing in school, so he didn’t really know Stiles, he just knew of Stiles.

He also remembered the first time he’d met him. It had been on the Hogwarts Express, when Derek and his friends had chosen a compartment on the train and had gotten settled. Halfway through the trip, the wall between Derek and Erica’s heads exploded, a hole forming connecting their compartment with the neighbouring one. When Derek had angrily put his face into the opening to tell off the moron who’d done it, he was greeted by a howling Cora, a terrified dark-haired first year, an annoyed redhead and a grinning Stiles holding a wand.

He’d angrily snapped for him to watch what he was doing before he took someone’s head off, and then had been forced to listen to the idiotic conversations from the next compartment over for the remainder of the trip, since the giant hole in the cabin wall made it impossible for them to keep their two compartments separate conversation-wise.

Of course, he should’ve figured Cora would stay friends with him. Despite her being sorted into Slytherin, and Stiles being sorted into Ravenclaw, they were like two peas in a pod and it drove Derek crazy because all he ever heard when they went home was Stiles this, Stiles that, Stiles is so amazing. Laura had teased her for a few years about them being together, and Cora insisted it wasn’t like that. It hadn’t been until this past summer, when Laura had been particularly nasty in her teasing, that Cora had shouted, “Fuck off, Laura, Stiles is fucking gay!”

He knew she hadn’t meant to blurt it out, because she looked horrified with herself for having done so, but it didn’t end up being a problem since Stiles had basically announced it earlier that year. Cora had probably come clean and Stiles had figured it would be best to say so himself before it spread on its own.

Which was ridiculous because who was Derek going to tell? Literally no one. He’d have to care enough about Stiles to talk about him to other people.

“Derek?”

He focussed back on Sprout, who was staring at him with concern, and cleared his throat.

“Sorry, yes professor. I’ll touch base with him in the morning and do what I can.”

“Excellent.” Sprout grinned. “I’ll inform professor Flitwick. He can let Stiles know to expect you in the morning.”

Derek nodded, bid the woman farewell, and headed off to class where he knew Boyd, Erica and Isaac would be meeting him.

He could do this for a little while. If Stiles ended up being as idiotic at his tutoring as he was in general, Derek would just drop him and tell him to figure his own shit out.

No big deal.

“What do you know about Stiles?” Derek asked Boyd while they headed for breakfast the next morning. Isaac and Derek had left the Hufflepuff dormitory early and headed in the direction of the Great Hall, but Derek had wanted to meet up with Boyd first because once Erica showed up, it’d be impossible for them to speak.

Namely because the Slytherin would attach her face to Boyd’s and try and suck the oxygen right out of his lungs. Derek still didn’t know how a Slytherin and Ravenclaw had gotten together, but he didn’t dwell on it. Erica was great, even if she was annoying.

“He’s smart,” Boyd said in his low, deep voice. “Good kid. Causes a lot of trouble, which loses us house points, but he also almost always earns double back for us.”

It was true. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw seemed to be neck and neck for the house cup more often than not since Stiles’ arrival, though his friend Lydia helped, too. They were both eager beavers, and both in Ravenclaw.

“Isn’t your sister best friends with him?” Isaac asked. “Why don’t you just ask her?”

“Because it would mean talking to her.”

“You’re a right wanker,” Isaac said with a grin, the three of them heading for the Great Hall. They’d barely reached it when Erica appeared and, as predicted, she latched herself onto Boyd and they snogged in the doorway while he and Isaac just headed inside. They’d have to split for the tables anyway.

“Save me a spot,” Derek said, heading away from Hufflepuff and towards Ravenclaw instead.

It was easy to spot Stiles, because he was the most animated person at the table, and had a group of fangirls around him, sighing wistfully with their chins in their hands, staring at him with practical hearts in their eyes.

Derek didn’t get it. Especially since everyone knew he wasn’t into girls, but he figured they were just hopeful.

He walked right up behind him and interrupted him mid-sentence.

“Stiles.”

The student in question cut himself off and turned, staring up at Derek and grinning. “Hey Derek! What brings you here?”

“Sprout said she’d tell Flitwick,” he insisted grumpily. “I’m your tutor for Transfiguration.”

“Tutor?” Lydia asked, having been reading beside Stiles while eating her breakfast. “What on earth do you need a tutor in Transfiguration for? Aren’t—”

“Tell the whole school, why don’t you?” Stiles cut off, hissing the words at her while scrambling out of his seat on the bench and motioning for Derek to follow him away from the table. Sighing internally, he followed him to a more secluded area. Stiles crossed his arms defensively, shifting his weight and eying Derek.

“Thanks, I guess. For helping. Um, what time works for you?”

“I’ve got Quidditch practice on Tuesdays after five. Do you have any activities?”

“Nope, I’m cool with only one type of ball flying at my face.” His eyes widened at his own words and he rubbed at his face with both hands. “Ignore I said that.”

“With pleasure,” Derek grit out. “We can set up a schedule for you. How about a few hours on Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays. Meet in the library after supper and I can help you for a few hours.”

“Sure.” Stiles half-smiled. “Sounds good. So, today too, then?”

“No time like the present.” Derek turned to leave, but Stiles grabbed his sleeve and tugged lightly.

“Derek?” He turned back to him. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“Just don’t waste my time.”

Derek moved away from him once more and headed for his table. He found Isaac easily enough and took the empty seat beside him, the other chatting away at him the moment he sat down. He ignored him for the most part and went about eating his breakfast.

After they’d all finished eating, they headed off to their various classes. Derek saw Stiles a bit ahead of him, along with Lydia. They met up quickly with Cora, and another boy from Gryffindor, whom Stiles immediately put into a chokehold just for fun.

The kid was an idiot. He was still a child, despite being a fifth year, and apparently failing a class, which was ridiculous. How Boyd could insist he was smart, Derek had no idea. There were much harder courses than Transfiguration.

They reached their first class relatively quickly, and took their various seats. Derek spent a majority of the day trying to plan the study schedule for Stiles. He paid attention to his lessons, and took notes, of course, but there were some parts of the lessons he already knew extremely well and he used that time to try and organize his thoughts.

The day passed quickly, and after he finished with supper, he bid his friends farewell and headed back to the dorm to grab some of his books, then went to the library.

Stiles was already waiting for him, books open in front of him and the Ravenclaw taking notes on a piece of parchment. Derek had to at least give him credit for looking like he was trying.

Wandering over to him, he dropped his own books across from him, Stiles jumping before glancing up. He grinned when he saw Derek, straightening and putting his quill down.

“Hey.”

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Derek said while taking a seat. “I’m doing this as a favour to professor Sprout, nothing more. If you slack off, if you don’t show any improvement, and if you waste my time, I’ll drop you and leave you to fail your OWLs, understand? I only have a few months before my own exams, and I won’t waste time on a hopeless cause.”

Stiles seemed a little startled at his words, but he just nodded emphatically, saluting Derek.

“Yes sir, Derek sir! Understood. Shall we begin?”

Derek grunted and asked Stiles what chapters he was struggling with. The first night of tutoring had mostly just been Derek trying to figure out what Stiles needed help with, and taking notes on his various errors and grades—the ones Stiles remembered, anyway. Derek suggested they try some practice wand movements, but Stiles had immediately dismissed that and reminded Derek of the hole in the compartment wall.

Derek didn’t want to lose his eyebrows, so he agreed perhaps the practice could come later and to focus on the academic side first.

All in all, it had been a good lesson. Stiles had been attentive, though he fidgeted a lot, playing with his quill, tapping his fingers, jerking his legs up and down. It was clear sitting still wasn’t his forte, but he’d listened to everything Derek had said, and when the Hufflepuff told him he was assigning homework he expected done for the following day, Stiles had just nodded and agreed without complaint.

After three and a half hours, he decided it had been long enough and they began packing away their things.

“Thank Derek,” Stiles said with a huge grin. “I appreciate your help.”

“Sure,” Derek replied, watching Stiles walk away with a bounce in his step. He just rolled his eyes and gathered his own things, getting to his feet. He turned and almost walked right into Cora, who was standing right behind him, glaring with her arms crossed.

“What are you doing?”

“What does that mean?” Derek demanded, side-stepping her and beginning to head for the exit. She kept up right behind him, poking him insistently in the back.

“I mean what are you doing? Why were you hanging out with Stiles?”

“I wasn’t ‘hanging out’ with your friend,” Derek snapped, turning to glare over his shoulder. Was she worried that Stiles would drop her for him or something? “I was tutoring him.”

“Tutoring him? You?”

“Something wrong with that?” he demanded while they exited the library, Cora moving so they were walking side by side now.

“Why on earth would you be tutoring Stiles? In what class?”

“Transfiguration.”

“Transfiguration?” Cora echoed. “You?”

“Is there an echo in here? Yes, Cora, I’m tutoring him in Transfiguration. Sprout came to me saying he needed help, and I’ve got the best grades in my year for McGonagall’s class, so I was asked to help him out so he didn’t fail his OWLs.”

Cora frowned at him, looking thoughtful. “Huh.”

She turned down another corridor without explanation and Derek just chalked it up to her being worried he was stealing her friend. Cora didn’t have very many, mostly just the same group Stiles hung out with. Stiles himself seemed to be fairly popular, so he always had people around, but he seemed to prefer the company of Cora, Lydia and his Gryffindor friend. If Cora thought Derek was encroaching on her territory, she would be a pain in his ass to deal with.

Derek didn’t hear from Cora again, and when he saw her with Stiles the next day before breakfast, they seemed perfectly normal. The only change was that it looked like Cora was teasing him a lot more than usual, and his face would go pink before he batted away at her. Derek didn’t pay them any mind after that, going back to Isaac’s inane chatter and eventually leaving the Great Hall for class.

When he went back to tutoring Stiles that evening, he found he’d done his homework, as requested, and was somewhat surprised at some of his answers. He hadn’t done horribly, but he hadn’t done great, either. Derek spent a majority of the evening explaining the part where he’d gone wrong and Stiles took meticulous notes, nodding along and listening attentively. They parted around nine, Stiles grinning broadly and thanking him before gathering his things and exiting the library.

This continued on for close to a month, and Derek found Stiles was improving little by little, which was really rewarding for him, because he was obviously making a difference. He still got frustrated at some of the insane errors Stiles made, but he fought for patience and just explained them to him again.

By the second month, Stiles was improving further, but had also gotten a bit chattier. When Derek set him up with some worksheets to do, which would allow Derek to still tutor him while also doing some of his own homework, Stiles had started speaking to him.

He never said anything interesting, mostly just asked him questions about his plans for the future, what courses he was taking, what life was like living with Cora, things like that. He asked him about weekend plans a lot, and Derek assumed it was because he wanted to study some during the weekend, but Derek needed time to study and do homework, too, so he always responded as such.

It was weird listening to Stiles speak sometimes though, and despite his better judgement one day, Stiles said something that reminded Derek of Erica and Cora, and he said,

“You really sound like you should’ve been in Slytherin.”

Stiles looked pleased to have Derek engaging in conversation and had leapt on it, quickly saying, “You know, the Sorting Hat actually wanted to put me in Slytherin. It really, really did, but my best friend from back home, Scott, well he ended up in Gryffindor. He got sorted before me, so that was a done deal.” Stiles drummed his fingers against the table while he spoke. “It’s a known fact that people sorted between Slytherin and Gryffindor, even if they arrive as friends, they always leave as enemies.” Stiles shrugged. “I didn’t want to leave Hogwarts having lost my best friend, so I kept telling the Hat nope, nope, not going to Slytherin, you can put me anywhere but there, I don’t care, you can even put me in fucking Hufflepuff if you want.”

Derek glared at him for that comment but Stiles just grinned, clearly teasing, and continued.

“It eventually gave up and put me in Ravenclaw.”

Now that Derek thought about it, he actually did remember Stiles taking a while to be sorted. It was probably because the Hat had been adamant that he’d do well in Slytherin but Stiles kept insisting he didn’t want that.

“Do you really think you and your friend would’ve ended your friendship just because of the houses you’re in?”

“You should see Cora and Scott go at it,” Stiles insisted, eyebrows shooting up. “If Lydia and I weren’t there to mediate, I’m pretty sure they’d have killed each other by now. It makes me sad, but as long as I get to keep them both as friends, that’s what really matters to me.” He shrugged again, then grinned. “But don’t tell anyone about the Hat’s accuracy, okay?”

Derek snorted. “Oh yeah. You definitely should’ve been in Slytherin.”

“Why do you think Cora and I get along so well?” Stiles winked at him and Derek snorted, then they went back to what they were doing.

He found as time passed that he didn’t mind Stiles so much. He was a little loud and rambunctious at times, but still funny and very kind. He’d started bringing by various Quidditch related items once a week when he’d found out who Derek’s favourite team was. His mother apparently used to work for the Ministry of Magic in the Department of Magical Games and Sports, so he had connections with most of the teams in the league. He often brought by either things from Derek’s favourite team, or various good luck charms for when games were around the corner.

Derek thought it was extremely kind of him, and when his mother had sent over some home-made sweets, he’d brought them to the tutoring session and offered some to Stiles.

“Aw, yes!” Stiles had instantly grabbed a handful of treats, shoving them into his mouth. “Dude, your mother makes the best cookies!”

It hadn’t occurred to Derek that Stiles would’ve already been exposed to his mother’s baking, but he was friends with Cora, so he should’ve figured.

Halfway through the second month of sessions, Derek was in the process of correcting Stiles’ worksheet while the other drummed absently on the table, looking around. He was doing better, but still not as good as Derek had been hoping.

“So,” Stiles said while Derek’s quill scratched away, “I was wondering, are you doing anything this weekend?”

“No,” Derek said, pleased when he saw Stiles answer one of the sections he’d previously been struggling with correctly. “Studying, probably.”

“Oh, cool. Cool.” Stiles’ hands drummed a little louder, causing the librarian to shush him. He mouthed an apology, Derek letting out a small laugh. Stiles was silent for a moment, then continued. “So. Uh, it’s a Hogsmeade weekend. I was uh, I was thinking—”

“Is it?” Derek asked, interrupting him without entirely meaning to, his mind half on what he was correcting and half on the conversation. “I wouldn’t know, I don’t go to Hogsmeade.”

“Oh, right.” He glanced up when he heard Stiles’ voice seem to deflate, but the other propped it back up and grinned at him when he saw Derek looking. “Yeah, of course. You’re a seventh year, you’ve probably been like, a bazillion times.” Stiles laughed and rubbed awkwardly at his arm.

Derek just went back to what he was grading, finishing up and handing it back to Stiles to look over. It was getting late, so he said they could go through everything on Monday when they had their next session and Stiles nodded.

He smiled and thanked Derek like he always did, but he didn’t look as bright and excited as he usually did when he left him. Derek frowned at his retreating back, then shrugged and started packing away his things. Someone slid into the seat across from him, and he looked up to see Erica there, giving him a look.

“You’re an idiot. He was trying to ask you out.”

Derek blinked at her, surprised, and wondered how long she’d been there. He saw books in her hand, and figured she’d been looking for something for one of her classes.

“No, he wasn’t,” he insisted, finishing up with his things but not standing, since Erica was still giving him a look.

“Derek, he was totally asking you out.”

“Trust me, he wasn’t. He asks me about my weekends all the time.”

“Then he’s either clued in to your stupidity, or really bad at taking no for an answer, because I can tell that kid is crazy about you.” Erica flipped some hair over her shoulder, then grabbed her books. “I can ask Cora, if you want.”

“No,” Derek said sharply. “He’s not into me, don’t be stupid.”

“You’re the stupid one, but if you say so.” Erica shrugged and stood. “Boyd and I are going to Hogsmeade, by the way. Isaac has detention. Hope studying is more interesting than a date with Stiles.”

“It wasn’t a date invitation!” Derek insisted after her when she walked away. The librarian shushed him angrily and he winced, turning back to his things and gathering them up before standing to head back to the Hufflepuff dormitory.

Derek slept badly that night because his brain wouldn’t turn off. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Erica had said, but it seemed insane to consider. Stiles was extremely popular, and not only in his own house. Yes, Derek knew he was gay, but he felt certain that if Stiles was interested in him, he would’ve been a lot more direct in asking him out. Stiles had nothing to worry about, he was more coveted than Derek was, and everyone knew Derek didn’t discriminate.

He’d dated a girl in first year, two different guys in third year, and had alternated between both genders for a majority of his time at Hogwarts. He wasn’t as popular as Stiles, but Derek knew he was attractive. He usually got involved with people because they thought he was good looking, and then they got tired of his prickly personality and dropped him. Which he was fine with, really, because if he was going to be with someone, they had to be able to put up with him whether he was in a good mood or not.

Stiles seemed to be pretty good at that, though. No matter what kind of mood Derek was in, Stiles always stuck around. Even nights where Derek knew he was being intolerable and insisted they cut things short so he didn’t say anything he’d regret, Stiles insisted it was fine and stuck it out, despite Derek’s terrible attitude.

“Hey Isaac,” Derek asked while they headed for class the next day. “Do you think Stiles likes me?”

“Probably, nobody can stand to spend that much time with you otherwise.”

Derek gave Isaac an annoyed look, but didn’t say anything. They just sat down in their Transfiguration class and took notes as always. They had a few practice sessions throughout the course of the lesson and Derek realized one of the items they were working on was the same one Stiles had been struggling with a few days ago but now seemed to have improved on.

When class ended, he hadn’t exactly meant to linger, but he found himself packing up more slowly than usual and he waved for Isaac to head out without him. When the class was empty save himself and McGonagall, he headed over to her hesitantly and stopped in front of her desk.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Hale?” she asked, lowering her glasses slightly and looking at him over them.

“I was just—I was wondering if you could tell me how Stiles is doing,” he said cautiously.

“Why, may I ask, would you like to know?”

“Well, I’ve been tutoring him for the past two months, and he’s really improved lately, so I was just curious how he’s been in your classes since we started.”

McGonagall was silent for a while, staring at him, then pulled her glasses off and said, “What are you talking about, Hale? Why would Mr. Stilinski need a tutor for my class, he’s got the highest grade in the entire school in Transfiguration.”

Derek stared at her for a long while, and found it somewhat comical that a small part of him had expected this to happen. Ever since Erica’s comment the night before, he’d remembered the way Lydia had reacted when Derek had wandered over to tell him their tutoring schedule. He remembered Cora’s incredulous reaction to the same news, and how she’d wandered away without a word. Even Boyd had said Stiles was smart when he’d asked him about him.

Stiles didn’t need tutoring at all. He was just using that as an excuse to spend time with Derek.

Holy shit, Erica was right! Stiles liked him!

“Forgive me, but can I ask you how Stiles is doing academically overall?” Derek asked.

McGonagall leaned back in her seat, eying him for a few moments, then said, “It’s not appropriate for me to share another student’s grades, but I feel comfortable telling you that Stiles is one of the most brilliant minds I’ve ever seen come through these doors. Every few years we encounter a student with exceptional skills, and Stiles is definitely at the top of the list. He wants to be an Auror, like his father. I dare say he won’t have any problems achieving that goal.”

Derek felt like a fucking idiot.

“Thank you, professor.”

She nodded, put her glasses back on, and went back to whatever she was doing.

Derek left the classroom, feeling stupid and almost angry. Stiles had essentially been wasting his time with this stupid tutoring business. Sure, it was good for Derek, because he was studying a lot while tutoring him, but if Stiles was so fucking smart, surely there were other ways for him to get Derek’s attention?!

He walked right into someone in his anger, and heard a shout. Grabbing at the arm of who he’d almost knocked over, he scowled angrily when he noticed it was Cora. She glared back, peeling Derek’s fingers off her arm and turning to gather her fallen books.

“Walk much?” she demanded.

“How long have you known Stiles likes me?” he blurted out.

Cora froze for a moment, then slowly turned her head to look at him. She eyed him warily, then finished gathering her things and stood, sighing.

“Look, Derek, it might have escaped your notice, but people have known about his crush on you for two years.”

Two years?! What?!

“He’s tried getting your attention in the past. He tried to talk to you a few times on the train, or at Quidditch games, but you always just brushed him off as that moron who’d blown a hole in the compartment wall in his first year. When I found out you were tutoring him, I went to ask him what the hell he was doing, because Stiles is a fucking genius. He just said that, to date, it was the only way he’d gotten you to talk to him.” She shrugged. “He wasn’t trying to be malicious or anything, he just wanted to spend time with you. You wouldn’t give it to him, so he found another way to do it. He told me he was asking around with the professors on who their best student in their classes were for the seventh years, and McGonagall was the first one to say it was you. So he went to Flitwick and said he was having trouble with Transfiguration, and obviously that wasn’t going to work for Flitwick because Stiles is his favourite, so he went to see Sprout to ask about getting you to tutor him since Stiles told him he’d spoken to McGonagall and she’d recommended you.” Cora shrugged. “You have to give him credit, he wanted this bad enough he risked the professors talking to one another and finding out he was full of shit.” She punched him lightly in the arm. “Give him a chance. He’s awesome, and you’d love him if you just stopped seeing him as the idiot who blew a hole in the wall.”

“He invited me to Hogsmeade,” Derek said with a small scowl.

“He told me. You said no. Shocker.”

Derek glared at her and she just rolled her eyes.

“I didn’t know it was supposed to be a date.”

“Well, now you do. And now you know what lengths he went to in order for you to just talk to him.” She shrugged again and started walking backwards. “Just give him a chance, would you? Stiles is amazing, and he’d be good for you. And hey, maybe he can tutor you in your shitty classes.”

Derek threw a book at her but she just ducked and laughed, running away from him before he could do any real damage.

Derek was still mad the entirety of the day, but the more he ranted about it to Erica, Isaac and Boyd, the more he realized that he honestly hadn’t noticed how hard Stiles had been trying to get his attention. His friends remembered, though, and were quick to give him all kinds of examples of things that he hadn’t even remembered happening.

The year before, he’d gotten an incredibly amazing and thoughtful Valentine’s from an anonymous source. He hadn’t asked anyone if they knew who it was from, figuring whoever it was would’ve told him by now, but Boyd admitted that he’d known it was Stiles because he’d seen him working on it in the common room. He hadn’t said anything because Derek had never asked, and he figured it wasn’t his place to give away Stiles’ anonymity.

Erica reminded him of the insane Hufflepuff support their Quidditch games always had from the Ravenclaw stands, even when the games were being played against Ravenclaw house itself.

There were just little things that all of his friends had noticed about Stiles that Derek hadn’t even realized. The more they talked to him, the less angry he became and he realized Stiles truly did just want to talk to him, and Derek had never given him the time of day. Of course he’d had to resort to drastic measures, Derek was in his last year at Hogwarts, and that made this Stiles’ last chance. He probably thought Derek was incredibly dense for not realizing he liked him and, honestly, Derek himself did feel pretty dense.

When he woke up the next morning, he made sure to do so with plenty of time to get breakfast and head to the Entrance Hall. He changed quickly, ignored the snoring Isaac who was definitely late for detention, and went to grab some breakfast. He chatted with some of the other people in his house, and then headed for the doors when the Hogsmeade visits would start.

He was one of the first ones there, and he handed his permission slip to Filch without even looking at him. He headed down the stairs and waited at the bottom, feeling somewhat anxious and shoving his hands in his pockets.

It was getting a littler cooler out, but not enough to need more than a jumper, so he just shifted his weight from foot to foot to keep himself moving and kept an eye on everyone exiting the castle. After almost fifteen minutes, Derek saw Stiles walk out, talking animatedly to his Gryffindor friend Scott. Lydia and Cora were behind them, speaking quietly to one another, the four of them walking down the steps.

Cora saw him first and Derek tensed, expecting some kind of comment, but she just grinned happily and nudged Stiles, motioning Derek. When Stiles turned to look at him, Derek waved awkwardly and only felt better when Stiles turned almost embarrassingly red in the face. He said something to his friends, almost tripped the rest of the way down the stairs, and hurried over to where Derek was.

“Hey,” he said breathlessly, smiling brightly.

“Hi,” Derek replied. Before he could say anything else, Stiles continued.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “About the tutoring thing. But I just didn’t know what else to do, and I figured that tutoring me would also help keep your brain active for your own courses, and it would help with your NEWTs and I mean, those are still so far off, we’re only just about to start our third month of classes, so—”

Derek reached out and covered Stiles’ mouth with one hand, making him stop speaking immediately.

“I was mad at first, but people helped put things into perspective.” He lowered his hand when it became clear Stiles wouldn’t start yammering again. “I’m sorry for how I treated you before. I guess I couldn’t get the image of the first year who blew a hole in the train out of my head.”

Stiles laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. “Yeah. Dad wasn’t too happy about that. He still brings it up when I try and argue how he’s lucky I’m such a great kid.”

Derek smiled slightly. “Well, I might bring it up, too, but I’m willing to spend a bit more time with you, if that’s what you’d like, though not as a tutor.”

“Yes!” Stiles nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, absolutely!”

“Great.” Derek motioned down the path with his elbow, hands in his pockets again. “Want to go to Hogsmeade?”

Stiles beamed at him and nodded, the two of them walking slowly down the path. Derek had no idea where this relationship was going, but as Stiles spoke animatedly about Quidditch and the ways to improve flight on an older model broom, he realized that he was more than willing to give Stiles a chance.

He may have lied, but he’d had good intentions. And he’d apologized.

Besides, Derek would never admit this aloud, but he’d kind of grown fond of his sister’s idiotic Ravenclaw friend.

By the time they reached Hogsmeade, their hands were linked together, and they both had ridiculous smiles on their faces.

Derek was okay with that.

END.

#teen wolf #TW #Stiles Stilinski #Derek Hale #Sterek #sgalahp #isthatbloodonhisshirt #isthatbloodonhisshirt works #isthatbloodonhisshirt SNYE

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pandoraabx · 7 years

Text

Feelings that Follow Rebirth Part 2: Official Meeting

Part 1/Part 2/

Summary: It was...unexpected. The idea of talking to each other felt odd. But...well...you can always count on a certain Hitman to be unpredictable, can't you?

I can’t believe this is done but I’m glad it is it took me a while to be even semi-happy with how it was written.

FFN AO3

Hibari told himself he was going to ignore the boy – Sawada Tsunayoshi – once he got his feelings and memories in check. Though, that was easier said than done. How was one supposed to keep calm, collected and rational when they were certain their soulmate was so close? The one they had been born into a new life for? He was known for being calm and collected, yes, but in no way was he known for being “rational.”

So, he ended up finding himself making mental excuses to be around his sunshine – Sawada – more often. During patrols, he would linger near Sawada’s classroom in an attempt to catch a glimpse of him. In the morning, he would watch to see if Sawada would be late again and give him an opportunity to talk to him, and assess him a bit more.

In other words, he was going nearly insane with this new theory – new obsession.

In his old life, he would admit – he was pretty…fond…of having an obsession, or something to focus on. Namimori was a current obsession, in the past, it was revenge.

Now, as well as Namimori, it seemed Sawada was on his list of “obsessions” too.

But he knew to keep his distance. Sawada wasn’t like his fearless sunshine. In fact, he was practically a coward. If Sawada noticed him stalking – watching him, he’d surely avoid him even more.

He needed time to assess the situation, and see if Sawada was really him…

So he focused on watching and waiting. Weeks, nearly a month passed as he watched and waited. He knew basic things now: Sawada gets terrible grades – his sunshine did too… - Sawada was a slacker, and would often skip class – his sunshine hated class and would find every reason to get out…

He kept trying to tell himself it could be a coincidence, that just because they looked similar and some aspects were similar, they couldn’t be the same.

But what if they were? What if Sawada…was his sunshine?

No, it probably wasn’t possible.

And he probably would have been entirely fine with this, watching Sawada in hope while telling himself this isn’t his sunshine.

But then, of course, someone had to make everything shift.

O~O~O

“Ciaosu!”

O~O~O

Tsuna wasn’t exactly very sure what was going on. Ever since meeting Hibari on that fateful day outside the school, he couldn’t get the intimidating boy out of his head. It made it even harder to focus on his studies – not that he was focusing much in the first place. But thinking about him made him want to run up to him and just start…talking to him, which was strange for him. Perhaps it was because he was like that cocky dark haired boy in his dreams…

Either way, it made him feel odd, and so he decided to avoid Hibari as well as he could. He minimized how long he spent in hallways, he tried to get home as soon as school ends – and would sometimes skip. He would even try to get to school a bit earlier – even though he couldn’t really do that.

But he felt himself slowly going insane – he was getting antsy. He was getting urges to run up to him, talk to him, tease him, bicker with him. It was getting harder and harder to try to ignore these random urges.

Then came that fateful day, the first day he heard the word.

“Ciaosu.”

That was perhaps the strangest day of his life – not counting the “days” that he had in his dream. He “died,” then he asked out Kyoko, then the next day he fought the leader of the Kendo club, where he proceeded to eat another bullet to win.

“Dying Will” was far more powerful than he thought, and reminded him of the weird power he used in his dreams. What was it called? Cat-ra?

From there, things got stranger and…better.

Despite the strange things: Learning he’s supposed to become some mafia boss of all things, and having a hitman baby as a tutor, he also managed to at least get on speaking terms with Kyoko.

He got new friends through the power of Dying Will: first, the school and his peers began to respect him – a strange part of him nearly began crying with relief at that revelation, like the feeling of having no one was always around – he gained two new friends: Gokudara and Yamamoto. He had gained two new friends then too..

Then…Reborn suggested one day that they need a hideout.

Tsuna was terribly suspicious of what he could be planning. Everything Reborn got him involved into usually ended with trouble – a strange part of him wanted to get into trouble, welcomed it in fact. But, his new friends were extremely up for it, especially when Reborn suggested a room in particular – suspicious, but why not check it out?

O~O~O

For a second time, brown eyes met black.

O~O~O

Hibari always thought he would be the one to meet his sunshine – Sawada – first. To talk to him first, and to get him to realize who he was.

He didn’t think Sawada would waltz right into the place he rightfully claimed for his committee.

First, he ignored him. Those herbivores were in the way. He won’t be able to talk to him with them around.

“One.” He took out one smoking first – he had a horrible distaste for smoking, it didn’t seem to agree with his lungs. He barely bothered to check if he was conscious. Either way, it would take a while for him to find the energy to get up.

The next one, the one who plays…was it basketball? Soccer? It didn’t matter, but he was slightly harder to take out. It became easy once he realized he was favoring his right hand, and in a split second, he was down too.

He settled his gaze on Sawada, who was shivering – shit I scared him. Doubt settled in his mind for a moment, his sunshine was never scared. His sunshine would have glared at him for hurting his friends.

He spoke with a weak squeak in his voice. “Y-You knocked them out…”

“Sawada.” He took a step towards him. What would he say? He needed to know, but…what the hell would shock his memory? What would make him believe him?

He let out a frightened squeak and backed up to the wall. “I-I’m sorry, we didn’t realize this room was-“

“Sawada. Stop talking.” He ordered, stopping right in front of him. He could practically see a carbon copy of his sunshine take his place. His hair, those eyes, he was him, he must be…

What could he say?

“H-Hibari-san…” Tsuna winced, he expected to get hit, obviously.

He dropped the tonfa, a clear indication he wasn’t going to hurt him. Tsuna’s eyes widened, and he stared at him. There wasn’t as much fear anymore, mostly suspicion and curiosity. Good. But his guard didn’t drop, and he still seemed tense…. Less good.

“What…are you doing?”

“I need to talk to you…or ask you something.” Good. Start with that.

“What is it?” His expression and eyes were curious though he was still firmly pressed against the door, trying to keep at least an arm’s length of distance between them.

His mind raced through the memories while his face kept impassively calm. What could he say? What was the memory, the word he would recognize? He could barely remember their names.

Names…

He stared at him, right into his brown eyes.

“…usuratonkachi.”

Those eyes widened in obvious familiarity. “Y-You’re…?!” He blurted out almost immediately. A weight lifted off Hibari’s shoulders. It was him.

Tsuna looked surprised, he seemed like he was going through an immense revelation. He blinked a few times, as if confused or disoriented. “B-But…you…those dreams…”

Idiot. You thought those were dreams? Hibari bit back a fond chuckle. He didn’t really change as much as he thought. Of course the idiot would think those are dreams first.

“They weren’t dreams. They were memories. Of your past life. Our past life.”

Tsuna stared at him longer, obviously trying to process what he just learned. “…Hibari-san...”

“Hibari.” He corrected him immediately. It felt…odd to have him speak so formally with him.

“…Hibari,” Tsuna corrected himself hesitantly, “…you were…him. And I was…” Tsuna shook his head. “But I’m…I’m not…”

“Ciaossu.”

They turned and there was a baby sitting on his desk, of all things, holding a gun.

“You two know each other, hm? I didn’t expect that. I thought you were pretty predictable too.”

Hibari easily picked up his tonfa in a second, stepping in front of his sunshi – Tsuna. He’s seen stranger, a baby wielding a gun didn’t seem very far out there – and it looked like a fighter, whatever it was.

“Hibari, wait, don’t,” Tsuna put a hand in front of him, staring at him pretty intensely, before it devolved into his usual, somewhat meek look. “He’s…a friend. Kind of.”

“I’m your home tutor, Reborn.” The baby corrected almost immediately.

Hibari raised an eyebrow – home tutor? - while Tsuna ground. “It’s a long story. It’s kinda like Pervy Sage.” He blinked. “I…wow. Weird.”

So, we remember more the more memories we accept, hm? He observed fairly easily, before turning his attention back to the baby – Reborn.

“What do you want?” Hibari immediately asked, he itched for a fight, though with Tsuna there his priorities found themselves at a standstill. It was obvious Tsuna wasn’t the fighter he was back then and he could possibly get hurt in the crossfire if neither are careful enough.

“Look, Hibari, Reborn,” Tsuna interrupted, his voice low and at a murmur, “how about we talk more about this later? I have a headache and all I wanna do is lay down.” Tsuna was busy rubbing his temples, grimacing with pain.

“…fine. Later. I’ll come by your house.”

“What?”

“Ugh…Tenth…that’s going on?”

O~O~O

There was far too much to process in such a small amount of time. Finding out the dreams were actually memories was something in itself. Then, realizing Hibari was actually the boy he had a crush – was rivals with in those memories and now having to get Hibari up to speed…

It was madness.

But nothing could get better, or devolve even more when Gokudara woke up.

Looking at the situation – Reborn was standing on the table, Hibari was near him, practically hovering. As soon as he saw Gokudera’s eyes focus, the dynamite was out.

“Tenth! Get away from him!”

“W-Wait!” Tsuna sidestepped in front of Hibari almost immediately, his body practically moved on his own. He could see the blatant surprise on Gokudera’s face. He wondered what it looked like, someone as small as him defending someone so tall, and so…dangerous. Someone who had just attacked them just 3 minutes ago… “Gokudera, you can’t hurt him!” Over-protectiveness from memories not from this life bubbled in him. Something deep in him screamed that Hibari needed to be protected. That other people wouldn’t hesitate to hurt him, that it was his job to make sure Hibari was alright.

“W-What?! Tenth, what the hell are you saying?” Though surprised, he still didn’t lower his…weapon. Tsuna felt frustration, stubbornness, and protectiveness fuel his actions.

“Gokudera just, drop the dynamite.” He tried to ask as politely as “Tsuna” would, even though this other person, the one Hibari called “usuratonkachi,” was starting to surface as well.

“But Tenth-!“

“Gokudera just drop the stupid dynamite!” He snapped.

The room was quiet at his outburst, and he slapped his hand over his mouth, completely embarrassed. Had he just yelled at his friend? That…wasn’t like him at all…

But it’s like the past you, isn’t it?

He almost shook his head. He…needed more time on this. He just needed time to think.

Ignoring his strange thoughts for now, and past memories colliding with current ones, he looked up at Gokudera, who had obediently dropped the dynamite. He was looking away, lighting a cigarette.

“No smok-“

Tsuna gave Hibari a look. Don’t. Please.

Hibari looked back. …Fine.

…why did this form of communication feel so…familiar?

Tsuna sighed and turned to Reborn, who seemed to be watching with his…usual unreadable expression. “Reborn...Hibari can come back to the house, right?

He felt Hibari’s gaze on him, his gaze barely seemed to leave him, but he ignored it for the moment.

“Yes, of course. He’ll be joining your family after all.”

So that’s why he brought us here… Tsuna felt tired, but he turned to Gokudera next. “Can you carry Yamamoto-san?”

“Y-Yeah, Tenth.” Gokudera wasn’t looking at him as he passed him. He winced with regret.

I really shouldn’t have snapped like that… Tsuna bit his lip. He put on his mental to do list to apologize to Gokudera later.

A hand was placed on his shoulder and he jumped, nearly screeching. He glanced up timidly to see it was Hibari. It was odd, familiar yet not. The memories of his past told him that initiating contact with him was normal, but memories from now made him immediately tense.

Hibari seemed to notice his mental battle, because he pulled his hand away a second later. “…are we going now?”

“U-Um…” He almost deflated with how expectant Hibari looked for him to take the leadership position. “I…I guess?”

“Be more assertive, idiot Tsuna.” Reborn said immediately, throwing something at him that Hibari could before it could barely reach his face.

Is that a pinecone?! Tsuna sputtered in surprise, though Hibari fixed a glare on Reborn.

“…I don’t like you.” He said bluntly – so blunt, it reminded him so much of many times before.

“You don’t have to.” Reborn answered. “Now let’s go, Tsuna. You need to explain everything.”

“Me?!”

Yamamoto woke up shortly before they arrived at Tsuna’s house – and didn’t question much. In fact, once it was certain he wouldn’t have any lasting damage, (“I didn’t hit to kill or break bones. Only to keep them unconscious for a while.” Hibari sounded a little offended they expected him not to be good at controlling himself) Yamamoto went home.

Gokudera…didn’t.

In fact, he was very adamant about staying and “Protecting Tenth.” By the way he would blatantly glare at Hibari – who obviously didn’t care about his presence in the slightest – he was sure Hibari was going to somehow attack him.

His mother was ecstatic that he brought home a new friend – it was odd, now, walking in and see his mother in the kitchen, waiting for him to come home. He almost felt like breaking down into sobs. And she immediately began making more food, shooing them upstairs.

So now it was him, a calm, observant Hibari, a glaring Gokudera, and Reborn, looking nonchalant as always, sitting on his hamper.

The silence was tense, and it seemed that Hibari was the only one who couldn’t feel it, instead looking around the room, his eyes getting more amused by the second

“…your room looks how I expected.” He suddenly said. “Messier than your schoolwork.”

“HEY! What the hell are you trying to say about Tenth-“ Gokudera started, only to stop when he heard Tsuna start snickering of all things. “T-Tenth?”

Tsuna couldn’t help himself. After the crazy day, with this headache, his memories, for him to be so casual and say something that was such a…double reference really just...hit him somehow.

“Hey, no fair, you don’t know how my schoolwork is now.” He snickered, and Hibari only smirked.

“I do actually. It’s quite well known if you ask just anyone about you. Way to get known for your grades twice.”

“I wasn’t just known for my grades back then…”

“Oh, I know. You were such a-“

“Hey!” Gokudera slammed his hands against the table. “What the hell are you two talking about?! Do you two…know each other?”

“I’m curious to know too.” Reborn spoke up. “You two didn’t seem to talk until now.”

“Um…” He glanced at Hibari. Should I tell them?

He gave him a look before glancing away. It doesn’t matter to me.

Tsuna sighed. “It’s um…I-I guess the answer is yes and no. Once we know more ourselves…we can tell you.”

“All you have to know is that I’ll be around more often.” Hibari said bluntly

Gokudera frowned, “Oh...” A smile appeared on his face. “Alright! I’ll trust you, Tenth!”

Tsuna sighed in relief. “…thank you, Gokudera.”

“Idiot Tsuna,” Reborn spoke up again, explain to him about joining your family.”

“What? I barely know what that’s about!”

He yelped as another pinecone was thrown at him, another one that Hibari easily caught.

Seriously, where is he getting all those pinecones?!

“Just explain it to me, baby. I barely expect Tsuna to know the whole story.”

“Hey!” Tsuna whined almost immediately. It wasn’t like him, but it felt familiar. Even Gokudera and Reborn seemed surprised.

Reborn, after a moment, took the next few minutes – with diagrams that seemingly appeared from nowhere – to explain how Tsuna somehow got involved with the whole mess with the mafia.

Hibari…barely seemed surprised.

“So, you’re still getting into trouble huh? At least you’re not looking for it this time.”

Tsuna crossed his arms, ready to retort when he stopped. Of the memories he had he knew that he did get into trouble. A lot. Mostly because he’d go looking for it himself.

“…yeah I know.”

Hibari stared at him for a moment, surprise and confusion in his eyes (Tsuna felt his heart drop. That’s definitely not what he would do in his past right?). After a moment he stood, and opened the only window in the room. He grasped the side and already began to climb out. “…I should go. I’ll talk to you later, Tsuna.”

“W-Wait, a second! You’re…not staying for dinner?” A part of him was tense, taking his mind back to a small messy apartment. Where he was completely alone…

It was silent for a moment before he pulled away and landed on the floor. He closed back the window and sat back down. “…yeah I’ll stay.”

Tsuna sighed in relief, the part of him that felt alone slipped away. He ignored Gokudera’s groan and grumbled objections that Hibari promptly ignored to focus on his headache and conflicting memories.

He’d…really have to sort out his mind later…

#katekyo hitman reborn #Naruto #naruto shippuden #SNS Fanfic #Sawada Tsunayoshi x Kyoya Hibari #Feelings that Follow Rebirth Series #I am so happy I at least got this done

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fictoryismine · 7 years

Text

NIGHT SKY CHANGING OVERHEAD

C H A P T E R O N E : Storm’s a Brewin’ (AO3) (FFN)

Prologue (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

It had been a particularly cold December day. It seemed as though nearly everyone in Tokyo was feeling completely run down, with how quickly autumn had come and gone. The days were becoming much shorter and everything was a dreary gray. But Minako knew that something other than just the weather had been off about her friend Makoto. She just couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was wrong. She'd been fighting with herself all evening, debating whether it would be prying or helping, before finally deciding to make contact on her communicator.

"Jupiter here!" Mako answered her call with a sense of urgency, always ready for a fight, knowing at any moment they could be thrown into battle.

"It's Venus." She was using her alias. Luna had recently scolded them again about using their civilian names when using their communicators, worried about security breaches and all of that. Even though Ami swore time and time again the devices were impenetrable, the cats couldn’t help but stress that the less their enemies knew about their personal lives, the better.

Sounding worried Makoto asked, "Hey Venus– Still there? What's up? Where's the youma? Is everybody okay?"

Mina laughed a little, "No, no... It's nothing like that! Everything's alright, but... Can I come over?"

"Uh, sure.” The brunette had obviously been caught off guard, Mina could picture her surveying her apartment. “Just take your time. Lemme tidy up, first, 'kay?"

Mina felt kind of bad about using the communicators for her own personal reasons, but what Luna had been completely unaware of was that Mako-chan had recently cut her phone line. The bill was one more added expense that made it just that much harder for her to stay in school. --- It was hard enough for her when teachers would complain about her grades, how she would be able to get all As and Bs instead of Cs if she wasn't always almost falling asleep in class. The teacher would make some judgemental remark about how all she had to do was go to bed earlier, like it was really all so simple. Another sore spot was when they would scold Makoto about letting herself get distracted with people who would just slow her down, like Usagi.

For most criticisms, Makoto would usually make an empty promise that she’d work harder, while she tried not to roll her eyes, but no one could ever question her friendship with Usagi. Makoto worried that without Usagi, not only would she still be a friendless loner, but she might have ended up moving again and never would've met the people who now meant the most in the world to her. Without Usagi she would’ve never met Ami, or Rei or Mina... or Ami.

She smirked a little to herself, realizing she named the blue haired genius twice. She knew that she had really come to care for all the other senshi – even the Outers now played a pretty consistent role in her life – but she had grown to cherish Ami most of all.

Usagi wasn't a burden, or the reason that her grades were the way they were. It also hurt that she knew Ami had been told the same thing about both Usagi and Makoto. Teachers never even bothered to get to know them before judging them.

Once, after school, Makoto had come around the corner to meet Ami at her locker and overheard her in conversation with two faculty members. The principal spoke softly, praising the girl for putting their school back on the map. "Mizuno-san, you have the highest grades in Juuban, the highest grades in Tokyo, maybe even all of Japan! You will be able to get into any school you dream of." The other man, a science teacher who always seemed to have it out for Makoto, was playing the bad cop and said, "Do you really want to jeopardize all of that just to eat lunch with a delinquent like Kino-san and an idiot slacker like Tsukino-san?"

Makoto had felt gutted, even though Ami assured the teacher that her studies came first, which was always the easiest way out of being awkwardly cornered like that. Mako was conflicted. She wished that Ami didn't have senshi responsibilities and could have the freedom to focus all of her attention onto her studies, but she also wished that Ami had told him how important her friendships were to her.

It would almost destroy her, but Makoto promised herself for both their sakes, if there ever came a time when Ami needed Makoto to leave her alone, she would go. She prayed that she'd never be asked to. Of course, Jupiter's shared commitment to the princess would still be there, but Makoto Kino would be a distant memory. After all, she had made herself disappear before.

Mako had wondered if, without Usagi, maybe she would have given up on Juuban altogether. Maybe she'd be at another school, maybe dropped out of school or worse. She didn't like to think like that. Meeting the princess and the others had really turned her life around, but that didn't mean her life was by any means easy.

When her teachers would tell her that she just wasn't applying herself, she really had to fight the urge to lose her cool, but more than being punished for fighting with authority, she was always so afraid that she'd reach her breaking point and blurt out the truth. Makoto didn't want anyone to know that she was probably the only orphan in her grade, maybe the school, and the only emancipated minor. She worked two jobs, neither of which could give her enough hours. Her employers would always tell her that they were giving her all they could because, "You're just a kid," "There are laws about that sort of thing," and, "You should probably use all that free time to work on your classes."

Mako took the few shifts with a smile. She would keep asking for more hours, but didn’t want them to know how dire her situation was. She didn't need sympathy, she needed money. She wasn't one to make excuses, but she barely had enough to make ends meet.

She had a real problem with taking charity too.

---

'I hope I’m not just wasting my time, trying to help. She's almost as stubborn and proud as Rei-chan. What if I get there and it turns out that I imagined the whole thing, or something is actually wrong and she just won’t tell me?' Minako thought to herself while stepping over a slushy curb.

She knew that she was getting closer to Mako’s apartment complex; there were fewer and fewer street lights as she made her way from her mansion uptown to Mako’s neighbourhood on the rough outskirts. It made her sad to think that the city seemed to care more about the safety of the richer citizens, especially if some of the others were as nice and hardworking as her friend. The senshi had vowed they would always protect anyone in danger, not just those they found deserving.

Even though things were rather dimly lit, the freshly fallen snow reflected what little light there was to make things slightly brighter, and the winter sky had just a hint of a soft pink hue. It was still frigid though. Mina hurried her pace a little, shuddering against the wind, and switched her bulky bag from hand to hand, trying to get a better grip through thick woolen mittens.

She had picked up some cupcakes. She hated to show up uninvited, which she knew was rude enough, but she couldn’t show up empty handed too! Especially once she realized that Mako had so much on her plate lately. She just wanted to cheer her friend up. 'Who doesn't like cupcakes?' she reasoned with herself.

She was almost there. Walking through this particular slum, which was full of long alleyways, always made her a little nervous, but during the winter people tried to stay in as much as they could. It was a mixed blessing: fewer people to run into, but also fewer witnesses if something were to happen. She frowned. Luna and Artemis were always trying to prepare the scouts for the worst case scenario, even one as terrifying as not being able to use their powers. She knew how to fight, but her everyday form still had certain physical limitations.

She would hate to transform into Sailor Venus and risk exposing her true identity just because she’d panicked when some guy got a little too close when he drunkenly slurred, “Hey baby, howsabout you and me?”

She remembered her first year with the girls. Artemis had really whipped her into shape to prepare her to be Sailor V. She wasn't in bad shape, with all of her volleyball tournaments, but now she had to really train.

There was a real advantage in having an extra year of experience under her belt. They were all comfortable training with their powers, but also sparred in their civilian forms. They began trying hand to hand combat, learning strategies, new tactics and different holds.

Usually Mako was hands down the winner. It wasn't uncommon for her to leave a match without so much as a scratch on her, even before they found the silver crystal. She stood at least five inches taller than the other girls, and had been street fighting for years for her own basic survival. At Juuban, there were even rumours about her being in the Yakuza. The other scouts decided it was best to never ask, just in case. It wouldn't do anyone any good to know that sort of thing about their friend, but Mina still sometimes checked her for those tell-tale tattoos when she wasn't looking and she was pretty sure Ami had run background checks on the others.

Luna knew that the brunette excelled at fighting, and would let the amazon sit out to focus on her studies. This often lead to Jupiter opening her text book, getting stumped on a harder question and then asking the cats if her blue haired friend could join her on the porch of the shrine. The cats would grumble a little, knowing Mercury could use the extra training but understood that she was a very fast learner and could pick up on most of the basic drills just by watching.

No one expected Ami to come out on top, but it was still expected that she be able to hold her own in a fight. They each had their place, and more often than not she worked hard to solve other problems – she was usually the one behind their better strategies.

With Makoto being the decided champion time and time again, this left Mina and Rei neck and neck. Though, sometimes when the cats were scolding and berating the moon princess, Mina would slack off a little and either let Rei win or make a point of dramatically toppling right on top of her. "O, I am slain." She sputtered, before closing her eyes.

There was really nothing like being put into a choke hold by the beautiful miko, staring face to face, feeling Rei's long dark bangs brushing against her forehead, and really seeing the fire burning in those amethyst eyes framed with perfect wing-tipped eyeliner, knowing she had only victory on her mind and that she was about to deliver the finishing blow. Then, instead of bracing, completely shattering Rei's concentration by asking if she was wearing a new bra, or if she knew that she smelled really good that day.

Then it was usually just a stunned look and Mina’s foot to Rei’s ribs, and then Mina kneeling beside her with puppy dog eyes. She hated to hurt the other girl, but knew that she could take it. Mina always told herself she was training Rei to be the leader when she wasn't around.

"Don't let yourself get distracted, Mars!" Artemis would yell, barely paying attention.

"I think you cracked a rib that time," Rei wheezed. The wind was knocked out of her, but they weren’t like ordinary people – she’d heal very quickly.

"I'd offer to kiss them better but..." Mina would roll Rei's shirt up just a little, her lips puckered, eyelashes batting.

Rei would only scoff, offended.

"You seem mad, Reiko. Are you mad?" Mina said, distracting the other girl until her breathing returned to normal.

Minako would help her up, feeling the warmth of her hand against hers. Rei always ran much hotter temperature wise, while Ami ran much colder.

Mako didn't really notice. Whenever Minako or Usagi mentioned it in concern, she'd usually just say, "I dunno, maybe a little?" with a shrug. But, like a moth to a flame, Mina was fascinated by it. She couldn't explain it, but a hug from Rei always felt like being blessed with the good fortune to put on clothes straight out of the dryer on a cold day. It was such a little thing, but with it came that kind of warmth that radiated through your entire body and stayed with you for minutes after.

She'd look for any excuse to touch Rei, especially when they'd train at the temple. She really delighted in torturing the dark haired girl – it was just so easy. Rei could be far too serious for her own good.

Minako would reason with herself that sometimes Rei needed to be knocked down a peg. She could be insufferable when she thought that she was completely untouchable. On the field, that kind of cocky attitude could get you and everyone else killed.

She truly believed that one day Rei really would be unstoppable, but until then she would ask the muddy girl under her boot, "What tastes better, dirt or winning? What tastes better, your own blood or knowing no one can stop you?" Mina could have listed more things Rei could taste, but she knew Rei-chan was nowhere ready to hear something like that from her.

She didn't know if she went too far sometimes, but it really seemed to be working. She would laugh – sometimes she wasn't exactly sure what it was that Rei wanted, victory or vengeance, but Mina was motivating her and Rei was determined. If it embarrassed Rei so much to lose, then being kicked down was the only way to really learn to hunger for that sweetness of domination. Once she had a taste and could savour all that she longed for, everything that she had hoped to accomplish, then she would never want to give it up again. Tormenting her was just good leadership, wasn't it?

Every time Mina would knock her down, she would be all the faster the next fight. Her slender frame allowed her to be very agile, and Mina was trying to teach her to use her anger. If she could channel her rage for a fight, and find a way to be level-headed outside of a fight, she'd be every bit as good a fighter as she already thought she was. Mina had no doubt that she'd get there.

Sometimes, if she'd been flirting especially hard, Minako would awkwardy try to catch Rei's eye after the match, but of course, Rei would act like nothing had happened, and so Minako would have to, too.

She arrived at Makoto's apartment. Opening the heavy door, she hit the button beside the name 'KINO.' Unit 206. She buzzed in to let her friend know that she was there, and Mako let her up into the small grey apartment, welcoming her with a hug. Mina wondered if the walls had always been this drab or if the decades had simply stripped them of their vibrancy.

She felt an uncomfortable twinge. Mina was used to a life of luxury and vacations to Europe. Her parents' master bathroom was practically the size of Mako's whole apartment, but even with all the glamour and expense, she felt like their house was much too big. She often felt lonely with just her feline companion.

For someone who mostly lived off of takeout food, Mina always found Mako's kitchen to be the homiest part of the apartment. Even in the dead of winter, Mako would always have fresh cut flowers in a colourful glass vase on the table. The tiled back splash above the sink was a rosy pink. There was usually something delicious cooking on the stove.

The window looked out onto another old apartment, the not-so scenic view of crumbling brick and urban decay. Mako tried to make the best of it with simple floral curtains and by hanging some spider plants. There was hardly a surface in her home that didn't have a potted plant on it.

Mina wasn't anywhere near as shallow as people thought, but Venus’ eye was always drawn to the old, ripped up, second-hand futon. It was clean but stained from age and wear, and served as both Mako's couch and bed.

When the furnace had broken the winter before, Minako had offered for Makoto to stay with her instead, but she wouldn't budge. She continued to say, '"No," the entire week. She kept saying that she was fine, even though she was sleeping in her winter coat.

Minako had wondered how she would survive if she didn't even have any extra blankets, but she had left it as, "The offer is always open." Makoto had extended the same through chattering teeth.

She knew that Mako wouldn't take charity, always stating she had things under control and that if she wanted something, she'd just have to work harder and pay for it herself. She had noticed the same code of honour with Rei. They could both be very generous on their own terms but hated to feel like they owed anyone anything, but Minako would be damned before she'd watch Mako or Rei die out of some stubborn stupidity. Winter had approached quickly and she was finally going to do something about it.

Minako knew she was a pretty good actress and Mako-chan was pretty trusting with her friends. Once she understood that someone wasn't out to hurt her, she would start to let her guard down. If dying together in battle, side by side as soldiers throughout the millennia wouldn't convince her that the blonde had her best interests at heart, then nothing would.

---

Mako let Mina in, welcoming her and hugged her tightly. After the kind of day it was shaping up to be, it was something they probably both needed. Mako saw the melting snowflakes glistening against her golden blonde eyelashes. The cold of the wind still on her rosy cheeks made the rest of her glow. She squinted her bright blue eyes to blink the snow away. She really was something else.

"Well, don't just stand there! Come in! Come in!" Mako joked, but with concern, "If you had stayed out any longer you'd be as blue as your fuku!" They all wore the same navy school uniform now, except for Rei who still wore grey.

Makoto had been so glad to be done with junior high and able to get rid of that hideous old uniform. There hadn’t been anything in her size, so she had had to wear that old, dingy-looking, brown one, which made her being the new kid even more obvious. She hated anything that made her stick out more. She had worried at first that someone would tell her she was wearing the wrong uniform, that she didn’t fit in, that she didn't even look like she went to their school, and pretty soon make her feel like she didn’t fit in their whole town. No matter where she went it was like someone was already waiting to laugh at her hopes of finally having a second chance.

Mina was still taking off her red hooded cloak. She undid the golden clasp, a delicate chain latched over a large shiny button. She stooped to untie black boots and laughed. “Blue as your fuku! That’s a good one. I’ve gotta remember that!”

She wondered what would happen should Makoto ever decide to use that line on Ami. Venus pictured poor Mercury blushing at the taller girl's flirting. There was just something so inviting about Jupiter's smile that you couldn't help but feel genuinely wanted.

She announced that she had brought some treats, and Mako was more than happy to put on a pot of tea. Mina sat on an old wooden chair that squeaked against the linoleum and watched Mako take down two mugs, as they waited for the water to boil.

"So, why'd you want to see me, Mina?" Mako asked, putting out a medium sized cup in front of her. "Not that I'm not happy to see you," she added.

"Oh, do I need a reason to see my favourite..." The blonde let out a sigh. "Honestly? I just thought you seemed down lately. I wanted to make sure you were okay is all."

"Oh." Mako took a breath and wondered if she should expose herself or play it off. After all, the only thing in the whole world that she'd wanted tonight was some company and she'd got it without even having to ask. She couldn't ask for much more than that. This was no time to feel sorry for herself. If someone had gone through all this just to ask how she was doing, maybe the truth would feel good for a change. It might be nice to get something off her chest for once.

"I didn't mean to worry you. Honest. I was just, I dunno, lonely, I guess," Makoto answered with a shrug.

Mina couldn't stop herself from putting her foot in her mouth. "How can you be lonely with all of us?" She knew it was stupid but had said it anyway.

Mako became very still and uncomfortable. After a moment she took a breath and started to say, "It's not that. You guys are –" The kettle whistled, snapping her from her thoughts. She took it off of the hot stove element. "Sorry about that. Great. You guys are great, but I needed someone today and well." She furrowed her brow, closed her eyes and said, "I miss my mom and dad." She puffed out her cheeks a little, feeling awkward.

Mina nodded. "Christmas is hard sometimes. Like, everyone else is with their families and so happy and making plans and having traditions. I get it."

"Yeah, but, it's not just Christmas. It's, uh, other holidays too. I miss them every day and nobody cares about me the same way that they did. I know you care. I know you do, but sometimes I still feel like it's just me on my own, and I wanted this year to be different. I didn't want to be forgotten."

"What do you mean, forgotten?" Minako tore at the cupcake wrapper, a little put out that her effort was going unnoticed. 'I'm here, aren't I?' she thought to herself. "We try our best to hang out on holidays, but we all have our own obligations, too. It's not that we don't want to see you."

Mako poured the hot water into the mugs and brought them to the table to steep.

"Rei's grandpa is so old he has a hard time remembering to take care of himself," she went on, "let alone Rei. Her dad is totally a lost cause. He's probably going to get remarried to that new woman he's been hanging around. Then he'll have all new kids to neglect, but he'd still probably treat them better than he ever treated Rei. It all comes down to whatever looks good on the campaign trail. And I know it's hard for her to trust Yuuichirou, 'cause she can't tell if they're friends or he just wants to nail her."

Mina looked down, remembering how jealous she was of that bumbling musician, even though she knew deep down that he wasn’t a bad guy. "He cares about the temple, and he's really committed to it, but he couldn't run the shrine on his own for more than a few days. She could probably do worse."

"Yeah." Makoto agreed half-heartedly.

"Ami's mom loves her so much, but works non-stop, and usually comes home to sleep after Ami has gone to school and is gone again before she gets back, unless she sleeps at the hospital." She blew on her hot tea. "And well, my parents are always away too... I know it's not the same as losing them but I don't think they... Well sometimes I think maybe they don't miss me." Mina admitted. She hoped it wasn't true, but still felt like it was. She sipped her tea and continued. "The only one with normal parents is Usagi, and I don't blame her for wanting to spend time with them... Even Shingo, as annoying as he is, still totally cares about her."

"I know, we all need each other. And you guys are everything to me. I just thought things would be different by now." Mako was grateful that Mina had come over, but was starting to feel a little selfish for even bringing it up.

Not knowing what to say, Mina tried to break the tension and asked, "So then, what is it? It's not like we forgot your birthday or something."

Mako bit her lip and looked away. "Well..." She laughed glibly.

"Fuuuck! It was your birthday, wasn't it? Dammit, why didn't you tell us? We could've all gone to The Crown and Fruits Parlour for sundaes. We would've invited Haruka and Michiru, and even girls from your classes, like Naru... maybe not Umino though. He really gives me the creeps. Unless you wanted him there, but still! Oh my god!"

Mina remembered that it had come up a couple times that no one seemed to be able to pinpoint when exactly the lightning senshi's birthday was. It dawned on her that in all these years they had never really celebrated her birthday, but whenever they'd ask her she'd say that she didn't want one or would change the subject.

'How can someone be mad that I didn't know something if they kept it a secret?' She thought to herself. 'But Mako-chan doesn't seem mad? Just kinda down. Mako-chan always makes us cakes for our birthdays and we just treat hers like some other day of the year! She's always saying she loves birthdays but goes out of her way to avoid her own.' Minako beat herself up internally.

"It's okay."

"If I had known I would've brought candles for you to blow out! You should make a wish anyways!"

Makoto actually had a surplus of candles in one of the kitchen drawers but it wasn't worth the fuss. Plus, Minako would probably awkwardly serenade her. Those little cakes had been more than enough.

"When was it?"

"It's today. But it's fine, really! I just used to go out with my parents and we'd do really normal family stuff and I miss it. I liked feeling like I was the most important thing in the world to someone."

Mina's eyes widened. "Ami-chan didn't talk to you today, did she?" She suddenly understood Mako's heavy heart.

She shook her head. "Like, I know she's trying to keep her grades up and I want to believe it's because I don't have a phone and it's too cold for her to walk over just to see if I was home. I know that she wouldn't risk making Luna mad by using the communicator for anything other than senshi business, y'know? But the cold doesn't bother her anyway."

Mina frowned and shook her head, "For a such smart girl, she can really miss the big picture sometimes." She sipped her tea, feeling much warmer now.

"Yeah. I mean, she is my best friend... Err... No offense. I mean, I know you're the one who's worried and came all the way down here and all, but..."

"You share a more profound bond, I know. I wasn't going to mention it. So, uh, I think your cupcakes are better than these but they're still pretty good." She wondered if she should give the brunette an easy out. She wasn't used to seeing her quite so vulnerable and didn't want to overwhelm the poor girl on her birthday, especially when this was probably the first time she'd ever talked about this kind of thing quite so openly before.

Makoto smiled. She had known her cooking was probably better, but she still couldn't say no to chocolate. Especially when this was the closest thing to birthday cake she'd had in years. It's true, she had cake all the time, but to be surprised like this was really nice. Then she remembered that they were talking about more than just dessert.

"I guess going to the same school, I just see her more, and Usagi has so many other friends. I just was able to spend more time with her, or something."

"Ha! Or something's right! It's like that writer guy said, 'The lady doth protest too much.'"

"Which writer guy? Shakespeare?"

"Yeah, you say that when someone is trying to cover up a lie, like, 'He looks just like my old senpai!' Especially when your senpai looks like a dozen different men. Or the other old lie, 'We're just friends.'"

"Hey! So, you know then?" Makoto was blushing.

Mina nodded, taking another bite of the cupcake.

A look of worry crept across Mako's face. "Do the others know? Does... Does Ami know?" She didn't sound like herself. Everything she was trying to say was true, but she had never said the words out loud before.

She could hear her doubt, and heard her own voice start to crack. She hoped it just sounded like her throat was dry, and not like she was about to start crying.

"Well, Rei sort of knows, but I think I may have been the one to put it in her head. Usagi believes that you're STILL pining away for your lost love from your old school. And, well, Ami – I don't think she has a clue. I've known for a long time though."

Mako was surprised by her friend's intuition. She laughed it off. "And I thought Rei was supposed to be the psychic one."

Mina sighed, exasperated. "Sometimes, I wonder. I mean, how oblivious can she be? She makes me so mad! There's only so many hints I can drop before I take it personally, you know?"

Makoto had always had a hunch, and now she could finally really ask since no one else was around. "Ha! You like her? I wasn't sure what was happening there! But then, with Galaxia and finals, I forgot to ask. Then sometimes it seemed like everything was back to normal between the two of you."

"It sucks to be the goddess of love or whatever. It's like, I can always tell when someone likes someone else but I never know what to do about my own love life! Like, last week, I was at the temple. She was doing her homework and I was laying on her bed, practically throwing myself at her, and she wouldn't even look up. As if some algebra book is cuter than I am!"

Mako finished her tea and put the cup in the sink, rinsing it under the tap. "Still listening!" she said over the loud running water. She grinned. She lived for this kind of gossip.

"So, I start reading the horoscopes. Like, 'Hey Rei, it says, love might be closer than you know, what do you think? Do you like anybody? Hey Rei, it says that Aries is usually ruled by Mars but sometimes it's Venus... Hey Rei, I'm no Virgo but I still have the box it came in ahahaha!' And she never even looked up!" Minako ranted.

Mako laughed. "Oh god you didn't! Heh. T-That joke doesn't even really make sense does it?"

"No, I know... but it still sounds kinda dirty! And she didn't even react! So, like a minute later she finally looks up and tells me she doesn't even believe in the zodiac! So, I'm like, 'Pssh! Says the shrine maiden in a catholic school girl uniform reincarnated from a kingdom in outer space... As if, right?"

"Yeah, after what we've seen, a newspaper giving us a little weekly insight would probably be the sanest thing I've ever heard!" Makoto chuckled. "And, Rei is so bull-headed, I would've pegged her as a Taurus, but I'm sure she likes you."

"I dunno," Mina mumbled, looking away.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

Mina perked up and mimed zipping her lips.

"Rei says she doesn't like video games, but really it's because she's way too hot-headed, and with her bad temper it makes her too high strung to even get past the GAME OVER screen. It's like, the point of games is that they're fun! Put in another token and see if you can get further..."

"Yeah, I know that. What does it have to do with me?"

"Before we met you, when you weren't Sailor Venus yet, just good ol' Sailor V – she would basically drool over the pixel version of you. She even had a couple posters. And once you started coming to the shrine for meetings, she moved all of her manga to Usagi's so you wouldn't think she was, like, obsessed. I think it was a lot for her to meet her idol. Plus, going to an all girl school with crazy nuns, she's probably afraid to think about things like that."

Mina was blushing hard. She didn't have to ask, 'like what?' She knew. Minako smiled. "She really liked Sailor V, huh? I wonder if she ever..." She shook the filthy thoughts from her head.

"Plus, every time she tries to talk to you alone, Artemis really gets in the way. Or there's a youma. Actually, now that I think about it, you're probably why she sneaks over to our school so much, because I know she doesn't go there to see me or Ami," Makoto finished.

"Right, Ami..." Minako suddenly remembered her duties as the love senshi. "Why haven't you talked to Ami? You guys would be totally cute together."

"Dunno. Guess I'm just shy." She shrugged.

"You, shy? The girl who invited herself to Motoki's to teach him how to cook? The girl who rode off down the freeway in a convertible with Haruka after only knowing her a couple hours? You're shy? Or are you just scared?"

Makoto grit her teeth. She didn't like to be reminded of her vulnerabilities. "So what if I am?"

"You, the big, angry giant, scared of sweet, tiny Ami? What's she gonna do?"

"Uh! Say no? Break my heart? Stop talking to me? Make it so both school and Rei's become impossible for me, so then I have to move, and then I'll have nobody, all over again? And that's the Sailor business aside! I don't want to be the reason Earth is enslaved!" She sounded like she was beginning to hyperventilate.

She had obviously been dwelling on the worst case scenario for a while. Mina softened. "Okay, yeah, okay. You're right, that does sound like something to be afraid of, but it just wouldn't happen! You wouldn't be alone. I swear that Rei and I wouldn't go anywhere. Usagi would probably say something to embarrass herself, but she would support you, and Ami would still be your friend. She would get over it. I promise, even if she was freaked out a little at first, none of that other stuff would happen!"

"I just don't know if she even likes girls. I don't even really know if I really like girls? Maybe I just like Ami, I think? Like, does she seem gay to you? I mean, she doesn't really gossip the way the rest of us do, so it's hard to tell, 'cause she's never talked about liking anyone, guy or girl. She's really closed off about that kind of thing, even with me. She denies it now, but I think she kind of liked that Ryo Uwara, but she said nothing was going to come of it. So they just talk sometimes but nothing else. I don't know if I should tell her."

"Well, 'To thine own self be true,’ right?"

"What's with you and all the Shakespeare tonight?”

"Who?"

"Minako, c'mon. Look, you usually screw up sayings, but when it's just us, you know exactly what you're talking about."

"I guess I kind of got into his plays when I lived in England. One time, I went to Stratford for a few weeks with some friends. That's like, where he used to live, by a castle on a river. It just kinda made me feel things."

Mina almost never talked about her time in England.

"So then, do you just play dumb or something? Is it to make Usagi feel better?"

"Well, truthfully? It's Rei. Yeah, sometimes I say some stupid shit by accident, but I know I have a pretty good idea of what I'm saying most of the time. Sometimes she gets so totally frazzled trying to stop herself from telling me what a ditz I am, and really, as cute as she is when she's angry, she's so super gorgeous when she smiles." She sighed, starry-eyed.

"Yeah?"

"She's just so damn serious all the time, and I feel so special when I'm the one who makes her laugh. And to be perfectly honest, sometimes I'm a little jealous of how much more time she's spent with Usagi. I mean, I know she's the princess, but I wish she would look at me like that, even once. Besides, even when she fights with her, there's a ton of good emotions there, too. She's so protective of her. I guess sometimes I want to know what it feels like to have what they have."

"Ha! So, that's why you asked if there was a poem called Nevermore by Edgar Allen Crow? You just were trying to make her laugh? Ami nearly had a stroke."

"But it is about birds isn't it? I just thought with her having a pair of ravens, such nice black hair, her secret goth phase, and everything that it would have done more than just make her roll her eyes at me. Besides, I shouldn't say, but you just know Raven would totally be her stripper name, or pen name or whatever."

Makoto pretended like she hadn't just heard Rei and stripper in the same sentence, but that'd be one surefire way to get the Senator to resign.

"Hm, well I think maybe Rei might've liked Usagi a little before you came along, but maybe Usagi just reminded her of Sailor V or something." Mako winked, made a peace sign with her fingers, mimicking Mina's trademark V for Victory.

Mina smiled as Mako continued. "I think Rei is just kinda partial to blondes. There was even a girl at her school she talked to a lot. She was blonde too. Besides, she's never been as annoyed with you as she is with Usagi, even though now that I know Usagi makes mistakes by accident and you just try to bait her... You don't get under her skin the same way. She's, like, waaay more patient with you. She knows Usagi is the princess and it's our sworn duty is to protect her, but I think she like really tries with you."

"Yeah?"

They sat quietly for a few seconds. It felt good to finally talk about their crushes but they were still no closer to dating Ami or Rei.

"Do you think it was this hard for Haruka and Michiru to hook up?"

"I dunno. I feel like they were always meant to be together, like they would've been together during the Silver Millennium, and are together now, and will still be together in the future in Crystal Tokyo, and probably even whatever's after that. They'll always be able to find each other. Haruka probably gives her some cheesy line about knowing her perfect soulmate existed, after hearing it whispered on the wind."

"You really think so? Sometimes, I feel like I'm meant to be with Ami, not just because I want to be, but I have these, uh, dreams about her."

"Whoa there, Sparky! Isn't that a little T.M.I?" Mina grinned.

"No!" Mako protested. "I mean, I don't know if they're dreams or memories or, like, premonitions or what, but it was so real. It's not the same kind of memories as when I have nightmares about the crash or dreams that my parents are back and we're in our old house, but I'm the age I am now. I always know right away what happened, even before I open my eyes and know I'm by myself in my apartment." She choked up. "I always know they're still dead and I'm still alone. No matter how much I wish it weren't true. But with the other dreams, I'm in a daze the whole day, thinking about Ami, and trying to figure out what it all means – And she forgets my birthday!"

Mina wondered if Ami ever even knew when Mako's birthday was, but she knew better than to argue, since that it was obviously beside the point. Ami had looked up different personal files about the girls, so she might have come across that information at some point, but decided to keep it quiet to not give herself away. Anything was possible.

"You should probably talk to her. Maybe she's had the same dreams? She should at least know for sure you don't have a phone now. I know you don't like to announce things like that, but she probably just doesn't know that, or that it was your birthday. She missed it but maybe she could make it up to you?" She smirked.

Mako acted like she hadn't just heard that suggestive tone. She got up to put the other mug in the sink, tossing the paper cupcake wrappers into the small metal garbage bin in the corner.

"It's getting pretty late." As she looked out the window, she noticed that the snow was falling much harder now. "Hm. You should probably just stay over. We have a meeting at the temple tomorrow. If you want, I could make you and Rei up a nice bento each. You can go over early and surprise her, like you did with the cupcakes tonight. Just go over to the temple and have lunch; with this weather they won’t be getting a lot of tourists."

Minako bit her lip, wondering whether that would be a good idea or not.

"C'mon, Yuuichirou could probably help her grandpa with chores until the rest of us get there. I just think the sailor of love and the sailor of passion could find a lot to talk about." Mako sported a cheshire grin, which made Minako giggle. Makoto was such a romantic at heart and nothing would've made her happier than her friends realizing they were perfect for each other.

"That'd be awesome. If I chicken out, I could ask her about you and Ami? I mean, if she has seen anything in the sacred flame or had any dreams herself?"

"No," Makoto stopped her. "If it's okay, I don't really want to tell anyone else about the dreams because its mostly just quick flashes about fighting in different uniforms,or waking up beside a half naked Mercury on the Moon. And I know Luna and Artemis would want to make a huge discussion of it. I couldn't just ask, 'Were we as close then as we are now?' They'd want every detail. I'd just really hate Ami to find out this way."

"That's true. I mean I know you weren't really, really Princess Jupiter, but Ami still might want privacy where Princess Mercury's concerned."

"Uh huh... Or worse, if the cats disapproved? Or called this an unnecessary distraction? Or even forbid us from talking about it. That'd be too much. And the only detail is waking up time and time again in a huge bed other than my own, next to her, or kissing her at a party. A masquerade ball – but we all know what happened that night... So, maybe we should just leave well enough alone. Okay, Mina? Please?"

Minako remembered the first time she connected Sailor V's red mask with the grand balls of the Silver Millennium. It made perfect sense – Tuxedo Kamen had one. So had Phantom Ace. She felt sick to her stomach. She thought about the other Edgar Allen Poe story she'd stumbled upon 'Masque Of The Red Death.'

It was too close to home, or what had once been home at any rate. A young royal knows that everything is crumbling around them, so they throw a party at the palace. The guest's rooms are all colour-coded. She herself had spent many nights in a red room with those floor to ceiling scarlet velvet curtains. They lived like nothing was wrong until intruders showed up. "And the life of the ebony clock went out with that of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired. And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all." She had found herself nearly tearing up in English class and hadn't known what to tell her peers, other than, "It... It just sounds like such a terrible way to die."

"I know what you mean," she said. "I was the first senshi to awaken so I've been having these dreams the longest, and Artemis still asks too many questions if I bring it up, and well, you're right. Luna can get pretty judgemental." Mina then did her impression of Luna. "Now, Jupiter, why is it that you feel you need to sleep instead of training? Why don't you dream about something useful like how to defeat youma?" She paused to pretend to lick her paw and then wash the invisible ear on top of her head.

Mako laughed, and did her best impression of the white cat, "You need to be more responsible. Now here, help me break into the arcade."

"We'd better get some sleep before the communicators wake us up." Mina looked across the table at the shabby bed, remembering her present. She shot up, and darted toward the door, coming back with a large shopping bag.

"What's all this?" Mako asked, raising an eyebrow. "You plannin' on moving in?"

Mina opened the bag to reveal a beautiful green comforter with lace trim and new forest green sheets with a pattern of tiny little leaves in a lighter shade of green.

"You didn't even know it was my birthday though!" She said in shock.

Mina acted all flustered, knowing her friend wouldn't take charity. "No, but, see, so you know how it's winter? And it's been getting colder? I thought to myself Mina, you should treat yourself to a brand new, nice, warm blanket! But, wouldn't you know, I'm such a total ditz. I bought bedding for a double bed, but I have a queen! And then I lost the receipt! I'm just so clueless sometimes, but I thought, know who would probably like these? My good friend Mako-chan!" She smiled slyly, hoping Mako would accept the gift. She worried that she may have laid that story on a little thick.

If Rei was here, she would've told her to leave well enough alone, that she didn't need to be so meddling and that she didn't have to play interior designer every time she walked into a room that she didn't like, but Mina was the goddess of love AND beauty after all. She always worried that people must've thought she was shallow, just because she didn't think beauty ended with her own looks, but making other things beautiful as well. Besides, Mako had done so much for them and she just wanted her to have something nice, something that was all hers.

"Thank you! Thank you so much! These are really, really nice, they must've cost a fortune!" Makoto squeezed the plush material. It definitely felt like something that would help keep her toasty warm. She thought for a split second, 'Isn't Mina's bedroom is orange or yellow?' and tried to picture the room. Maybe there was a bit of red too, but not green. She pushed that idea away. She was grateful for the birthday present that her friend had obviously picked out for her. Minako had clearly thought up a story like that to spare her pride. She was pretty lucky sometimes.

They tucked the corners of the fitted sheet under the mattress, put on new pillow cases, fluffed, ruffled and spread out the comforter. Mina's intuition was dead on. Like magic, the whole room instantly looked so much nicer. They got ready to go to sleep in harmony.

"G'night, Mako," Mina murmured. "Happy Birthday."

---

Later, Makoto lay there wide awake, as the blonde snored lightly, curled up against a pillow. Part of her wished she hadn't revealed as much to Mina as she had. Once things were out there, there'd be no putting them back. She knew she could trust her friend, even if she had a tendancy to be a total gossip. She at least had enough tact that she would never tell the person that it was about, and it would never leave their circle.

The worst case scenario was usually that Mina would tell Rei or Rei would tell Mina, that was a given. Haruka and Michiru already would know, and you couldn't tell one without the other. Mamoru was intuitive but tried not to meddle in their affairs – he had long outgrown their teenage drama. Usagi was usually kept in the dark about any of the interplanetary feuding. They had always agreed that they would keep up appearances for her, and fight on their own time.

Even if it had been a fluke Makoto was grateful that someone had kind of remembered her birthday, and had cared enough to see if she was alright. She appreciated the company and her friend's concern. She had liked her cake and was completely in love her new blankets.

She was also grateful because she'd be able to keep her anger in check now. She knew that if she had kept all this in for much longer, then the next person to look at her funny would probably have got their arm broken.

She felt a twinge of embarrassment. Was her story about her old senpai really so transparent? She wasn't being dishonest per se, but it must've looked strange to describe someone who was a tall, short, dark, fair, brainy, jock who always wore hats except when he didn't. In truth, there had actually been a couple guys.

Life in her old towns had been very hard, and she hated that, no matter where she went, her past preceded her. There were always rumours, lies and half truths. Everyone always asked if she'd really been kicked out for fighting. She did get into a lot of fights, but she never started them. It was mostly guys who would make a pass at her, then, when she'd ignore them, turn around and call her a dyke all in the same breath.

She knew she wasn't seen as feminine as other girls. Her height made things difficult. It was harder to find pretty clothes in her size, so she'd tend to wear something plainer if it fit better. She also didn't have a lot of money to keep up with the more current trendy brand name fashions.

She was always kind of a tomboy, even back when her mom and dad were alive. Her parents had been proud of her – she had been such a happy child. They encouraged her to climb trees, and if she fell and skinned her knees, to just get up and try again, to be bright and fearless. But the living at first at an orphanage, then group homes, and then on the streets had nearly beaten all that brightness out of her. Life had forced her to be tough, and even when she really tried to be girly, everyone still had something negative to say to her.

It didn't matter that she was getting one of the best marks in her home-ec class, it was the marks she was getting in gym that caught everyone's attention. There were just a lot of little things. Whenever she'd stand up for herself to a boy, they'd say she must be a real man-hater. Pretty soon the whole school thought she was gay.

The guys were so horrible with comments about "knowing they'd be able to fix her." The girls, who were already afraid of her, stopped talking to her altogether. Mako had been really alone then and had had such dark thoughts. She didn't know if she really wanted to die, but for however brief a moment suicide had crossed her mind.

She had truly had no one in the world that she could talk to. She was so overwhelmed, all she really wanted was to find a way to make the rumours stop. She could hear the echoes of their malicious laughter and had their disgusted faces, hateful glares and sneers permanently etched into her mind.

So Mako had slept with a boy, her old senpai. He was one of the nicer guys. He was good looking. She knew that she wasn't really in love with him, but he had seemed decent enough. She hoped that if she really forced it, maybe he'd want to actually date her.

She had needed to feel needed. She was cripplingly aware of how lonely she was and didn't know if she was defective. She had to find answers. She decided that she didn't really mind being used – it was still attention and it felt good to be noticed.

She understood that gossip travelled fast. She figured on some level, being called a slut was better than being called a dyke. The names didn't hurt so much at first. Once there had been things that were carved so deeply into her locker, taking so many layers of old paint and metal with them, that even when the janitor painted over it, it could all still be read clearly. There were things written in the locker room showers.

It had been just getting to be too much and every day was getting harder. She hadn't been sitting alone in the lunchroom anymore, but knew that people just wanted to satisfy their own warped curiosity, and only talked to her to find out if the rumours were true.

It was only once the rumours got to Kioshi Hakoda, a quiet boy in her history class, who had asked her out, that she began to regret her actions. She realized too late that he had really cared for her, but once he heard the talk, he'd broken up with her in a public spectacle during lunch in the busy cafeteria.

She had made too big a mess of things, she decided, and just left, skipping town. The next school would've probably been much the same if she hadn't had an old sempai to talk about. She knew she liked some guys, at least a little. As long as she was talking about boys, no one would think anything else. It got easier to pretend that she cared, or easier to pretend she didn't care. She wasn't even sure which was true anymore.

She learned it wasn't as difficult to get guys to leave her alone if she mentioned another guy than if she just politely declined. She still didn't have any friends but at least now she could fall asleep without crying only to wake up to a tear soaked pillow. She had time to figure out what she wanted. She had been able to breathe again.

She had made one friend, Tomoko Takase, a quiet, intelligent, blue haired girl, who wrote fantasy stories. It was nice to have someone who wasn't afraid of her, who hadn't heard, or didn't care about the rumours. Makoto had found herself drawn to her, eager to win her shy smiles. In retrospect, she could admit it had been a crush.

When she made the realization that she might actually like girls, she knew it must sound strange, but she thought it was exactly like running full speed into a patio door, like everyone watching could tell what was going to happen except her – she was already too close to see it, it was already too late – especially since it felt like she had been hearing it her whole life. Like everyone had been saying, "Oh that Makoto, she's the type to run into glass," "Know who I hear runs into doors? That tall girl," "I bet Kino walks into stuff like that all the time." And she hadn't, they had no reason to think that about her. She had done nothing wrong, and just in case she had, she now did her best to be more careful, almost paranoid, trying to overcompensate to prove she wasn't who they thought she was. It was like when someone is afraid they're going to trip, so they're constantly watching their feet and then BAM! They still fall of course. They were always going to fall, but now it's almost in slow motion, adding insult to injury.

The truth had knocked her right flat on her ass. They were right. They had always been right. Everything hurt for a moment, but she was more shocked than in pain. She felt betrayed, like her very senses had lied to her. Everything she knew had been wrong. She was embarrassed that she had missed something about herself that was such a surprise to her but that must be so glaringly obvious to everyone else. It made her tread even more lightly, in case there were any more things she had to question and even more things she couldn't trust herself with knowing for sure. Unable to face the people she knew, especially Tomoko, she had moved schools yet again.

Mako had spent a lot of time worrying about girls. She didn't want to look like she was giving up on men. Maybe she still liked boys. It was all very confusing. Sometimes she'd talk herself out of it, wondering even if she did like a girl, what kind of future could they have? She'd grown up without a family, would she grow old without one, too?

She sometimes mourned the idea of a nice little house, beautiful garden, maybe a baby or two, and of course, a smart, funny, gorgeous husband who loved her unconditionally and always let her be herself, someone who could make her feel delicate and cared for. Why couldn't she have that? Had she really done something so wrong to doom herself to this fate of unending loneliness? Even when she'd try to change it to a smart, funny gorgeous wife who loved her unconditionally, it still never lined up quite right.

She couldn't always remember as much as she'd like about her parents. What she did remember was fading as she got older, but she knew they would read her fairy tales before bed, and not even one of those colourful pages full of pretty pictures of women in beautiful gowns or handsome princes with swords had two princesses kiss at the end. Girls didn't just run away together and get married, did they?

In each new place, Makoto felt like people judged her too quickly. They'd dismiss her as either some dumb jock or just another ignorant delinquent. She didn't think that she was really a complete idiot, though she did miss a lot of school. She would get suspended for fighting, and got sick a lot from being so cold, hungry and over-tired. Between the fighting and bullying, teachers thought she was the problem, that she must like looking for trouble. They said she must be doing something to instigate the arguments that escalated so quickly into violence, and whenever she needed a fresh start, she would leave again.

Every new school she'd go to would be just ahead of where she left off, the teacher would always start off nice enough, "I'm sure you covered all of this at your old school." She'd smile, nod, and act like she would catch up. "Well, I'm always here to help." But whenever she'd try to track a teacher down with a question, they'd be too busy, or assign a tutor who wouldn't show up because of her reputation.

A few times, her peer tutors had told her she was an idiot and would never be able to learn it in time, and one purposely had her work on the wrong worksheet and denied it to the teacher. After all, coming from a straight A student who was volunteering to help out in their spare time, who were teachers more likely they believe?

With her grades suffering, there would be more fights, suspensions, and expulsions. She couldn't always leave schools and find schools so easily. Sometimes to qualify, she'd have to move to be in the acceptable school district, and that meant finding first and last month's rent. So she was held back a year, not because of grades alone, but for poor attendance.

The others didn't know she was older, but Usagi would always tease her and say being born at the end of the year made her the baby of the group, or that she was too tall to really be their age.

Really, Mako had been tall for a woman of any age, but it still rubbed her wrong. Mostly because it was another way she had failed, something else she had to lie about, another thing she could slip up about.

She hated to be dishonest, especially because she desperately wanted to be close with the other senshi. She wanted the other scouts to be able to trust her, but her past always screwed everything up. She hoped one day she wouldn't have anything to hide, no more secrets, but if you took all that away, what would she even be left with? Who would she even be?

She worried that she was destined to always run away. She hated feeling so weak, and acting like such a coward. It felt like she was always at the breaking point, like any little thing would set her off.

It seemed so strange to her looking back, that the same day she met Usagi her life had changed forever. That same day, she had first been properly introduced to Ami. She had seen her around before and had felt drawn to her, but they had never really spoken to one another. The blue haired girl was rather meek, but unlike the other girls she'd met that day, she hadn't been afraid of the taller girl. It was only a couple hours later that they found out Makoto was Sailor Jupiter, and it was Sailor Mercury who told her that she was the also senshi of courage.

She didn't feel very brave, and she'd soon come to believe that Ami was really the courageous one. Ami was brave in subtle ways that not everyone picked up on. Like that Rendez Vous of Destiny dance – she had been so bold at that dance. Mako still thought about it a lot. She had been in awe of the brave girl asking her to dance. Ami deserved so much more credit.

It had taken her such a long time to realize just how devastated Ami must've been when Mako waited all night in the rain for Tiger’s Eye instead. She had been so stupid. Makoto had just been another conquest. It had been Ami who had worried about her, and got the other girls to come keep her company and bring her an umbrella and a towel.

Mako had decided that she needed a good relationship, she needed to prove she was normal. She was finally at a point where she was starting to believe she wasn't just trash, something no one wanted, or that they would change their mind about her and just throw her away. She had finally started to believed she was deserving and worthy of respect and affection. She had friends now. She had a little home. There were no more envelopes with scary, glaring, red letters that said final notice, no late cheques or unpaid bills in her mailbox.

She had been doing a little better in school, too, even if her teachers were still on her case. She had thought it was about time for someone to fall in love with her. She wanted to do it properly that time, not just find someone who took pity on her, or who could get what they wanted and leave, but someone who truly loved her. She had had such high hopes for the dance. Motoki Furuhata had told her people found their soulmates there, and she believed him. She had only wanted to feel normal.

When Tiger's Eye had stood her up, Ami had still asked her to dance, and then later came out in the rain, where they'd fallen asleep together. Later, Mina had reminded them of the name, hinting that their's had been the rendez-vous in question. She'd also convinced Rei to dance with her. After all, maybe there was truth in what Motoki had told them.

---

Minako woke up to the clang of pots and pans. Makoto wasn't being particularly loud, but the sound carried in the tiny apartment. Minako decided that no matter what time it was, it was still too early to get up, and tried to go back to sleep. She would've drifted off again, but the aroma of something cooking snapped her out of it. Makoto was making her special french toast. The whole apartment smelled like cinnamon.

Mako returned to the bed with two plates of food, and saw Minako looked around as her eyes adjusted to the room. There was no television. There were books and some old video cassettes on a shelf but nothing to watch them on. Some things had been damaged in Makoto's travels, lost or stolen by the movers. Other things had been sold during particularly hard times, but she liked what she did have left, especially the framed photo of her and her parents that hung on the wall.

Mako caught Minako focusing on one especially bare corner. Makoto sheepishly explained that it was a meditation corner.

A few months before she had gone to Rei, asking for some advice about her anger. She had been worried that if she didn't step back and try to calm herself down, her rage issues would get out of control again. She knew that it would only take one incident for people to start up the stories about how unstable she was. Things had been piling up for her, and there hadn't been as many youma, so sometimes there was no safe outlet to channel her fury. It wasn't like she could be honest with a professional, so psychiatry was out.

She used to go to the gym. At first it was an excuse to run into Ami at the pool. Sometimes she'd go to the ice rink, but the skate rental was really expensive. She would have been just as far ahead to actually buy a pair of skates, but there was never enough extra money. She liked to take the karate classes, until they raised the price and she couldn't afford to extend her membership. She got a second job, and then, when she would've been able to pay the higher fees, she got more hours at her other job and didn't have the time anymore. Things just happened like that sometimes.

She'd been busy with work and school. It wasn't always trying to balance the actual work that was hard, but rather the fear of coming home to another past-due bill that discouraged her from quitting. The store patrons would make remarks like, "How are you ever going to make something of yourself, if you're here instead of studying?" or "How are you going to find a husband if you're hiding in a flower shop? The fellas who come in here already have sweethearts!" She'd laugh it off, knowing if she slipped up that it would probably cost her her job.

Then, in the morning, the teachers would say, "Maybe if you didn't stay out all night, you'd find time to finish your assignments. What would your parents think?" And time and time again she would have to swallow down her anger, so afraid it would eventually consume her. She respected her elders, but she wished that even some of the time they would respect her as well. She was doing the best she could. It hurt, especially when this was the same idiot teacher that had once seen them coming out of The Crown and had told Usagi that she was a disgrace and didn't deserve to play arcade games, because she was nothing like Sailor V. That real heroes cared about their futures. Makoto had had to leave or she would have done something she'd regret.

Mako had been walking around just seething with anger, carrying the storm with her wherever she'd go, fists clenched tightly. She felt like she was becoming unapproachable again, and maybe she liked it like that just a little bit, but she was part of a team now, one that was almost like a family. She finally had people who cared about her, and she couldn't do the lone wolf thing anymore and still expect her friendships to survive.

She'd known she had to talk to someone, and to her surprise that someone was Rei. All the scouts had their own unique areas of expertise. Whether or not Rei would ever admit it, they had a lot in common.

She'd climbed the many stairs of the shrine and made small talk with Rei's Grandpa. The bald old man had seemed a little disappointed that she hadn't brought any of her fabulous cooking with her, but understood this was a more serious type of visit. He'd joked that he hoped that Rei wasn't in any kind of trouble with her because Kino could really pack a wallop! POW!

She tried to laugh, but he that raw truth hit a little too close to the bone. He told Makoto she could wait inside of the temple for Rei to get home from her classes, but Makoto just thanked him, instead moving to sit under a beautiful cherry tree. Pink petals fell from the blossoms in the light breeze, and even just connecting with nature for those few minutes seemed to help. Even the air seemed sweeter. She tried to convince herself one last time that she was doing the right thing coming there.

Rei came up the path and found her there, studying her with dark, serious eyes. "Mako-chan, I was hoping you'd see me today. Sit down, tell me everything."

"I thought that..."

"None of that! First of all, you know that's not even how it works! So I don't want to hear –" she mimicked her friend's gravelly voice, "I thought you were psychic. So why did you have to hope you'd see me, didn't you already know? Why do you need me to tell you anything, shouldn't you already know?'" Rei softened, "'I do already know that you're feeling out of control, but I need to hear it from you."

Makoto began to wonder if she had made a mistake, but she thought about it for a second, 'If I were to talk to Usagi about it, she'd just tell me what I needed to hear, that I was just over-reacting and couldn't possibly be as angry as I said I was. I'd try to believe it for a little while, but I always tried to keep that side of myself from the princess.'

The shrine maiden wasn't one to sugar coat things. While Makoto was friends with all the senshi, she felt like Rei sometimes still kept her distance. She lowered her gaze and timidly pleaded, at the end of her rope, "Please, Rei? I can't handle things on my own anymore."

Rei started by kept asking Makoto to come up with a list of things that made her angry, so that she could let go of these smaller things one by one. "See," she said, "Most of these things are just yesterday's problem for yesterday's Makoto."

Rei's advice had been to encourage her to meditate like the bald monk Kakusui, Makoto had once stayed with.

"There is no path that lets me live my life other than this path. Therefore I walk this path."

She had written it down when she had stayed in the mountains for training. She had journaled anything she thought was important while she was away. Even though she had gone when her confidence had been almost shattered, after a few days, she had actually been happy to be around so many different kinds of plants, and she had had a list of things to look up when she went home.

But that day, even a peaceful quote had made her frustrated. "I don't want to be on this stupid path, that's the whole damn point."

She'd been thinking about going back to the mountains. Even if she didn't need to train with him, it would be nice to visit, or to at least write him a letter, but she never knew when she was burdening people. She remembered his other advice. "People cannot live alone, don't force yourself." She had been going at it alone for so long that it was all she knew anymore. She was trying though.

Makoto knew that she and Rei were friends, and Rei cared about her and wanted to help, but she was just a Miko, not really a priestess yet. She'd given Mako a space to vent, really get some things out into the open. Makoto had mostly just needed a good ear and a safe place.

Makoto felt better, a mix of relieved and embarrassed at her confessions. Admitting everything from being aggravated by the video games she normally enjoyed, to being frustrated that she was working two jobs, but still never had any money, to having to cut her own hair. She was even bothered by a bird outside her window which had nearly pushed her to the brink.

"I swear to god Rei, I was going to punch that sparrow in the face."

Rei laughed and told her with a wink, that just like any battle, she should clear her mind before going against the video game bosses or any other obstacle, that she couldn't control how yesterday's Makoto had handled a bird outside of her window, but that that had been yesterday's bird, too, and that tomorrow's Makoto would know what to do.

"And as for the haircut, just never let Mina find out. She says she can cut hair, but don't to listen to her." Rei touched the back of her neck, where if it hadn't been for her senshi healing, there might have been a scar.

Rei had named some general ways to deal with emotions: "Write things down, talk to people, meditate, exercise, destroy a youma, have sex..."

Makoto raised an eyebrow. "W-What was the last thing?"

"Destroy a youma?"

"No, no, after that..."

"Spiritual texts?"

'Sex...texts...texts...sex... Yeah they do sound pretty alike, maybe I just didn't hear her?'

Rei laughed. "No, I'm messing with you. I totally said sex. You were being so serious, I couldn't help myself."

Mako shook her head. "Y'know, somewhere Mina-chan is just bursting with pride, and has no idea why."

"Mako, I'm not just being your friendly neighbourhood shrine maiden talking to some lost soul. This is as friends, okay? You did really good today. I probably would've just left if I were you. I would've wanted to punch me in the face, but I hope it helps. I do think you're still holding back a little about some things, but that might just be the way you are."

The truth was Rei she couldn't judge her friend on this, when she was the exact same way. Makoto knew that Rei had really felt her pain, that some of it was so close to her own. She saw her open her mouth to speak, probably to tell her that she still missed her mother, too, but no words came out.

Finally, she'd sent her off with a nice box of herbal tea and some candles from the shrine's gift shop. Grandpa's idea. It couldn't hurt. As Makoto headed on her way, Rei had yelled out the front door, "Oh! And go talk to Ami, she's been thinking about you."

---

"So, that's corner I set up to meditate like Rei suggested," Mako concluded.

Mina stifled back laughter, "Rei still flies off the handle more than anyone! She's the last person who should give anyone advice! But seriously, between the herbal tea and sitting quietly in the corner, if you really feel better, then I'm happy Rei could help."

"So far, it hasn't worked very well." Mako sighed. She had started to meditate, seen the apartment from a different angle and spent the evening rearranging furniture, much to the displeasure of her sleeping neighbours. Other attempts had just made her tired. It did a help with clearing her mind before bed. She was having fewer nightmares, but she still wasn't sleeping properly, and was honestly still pretty angry.

"I've thought about talking to Ami-chan," she admitted to Mina. Spending time with Ami always made Makoto feel better. "But I don't want to make anyone worry about me." She really didn't want the quiet girl to think poorly of her. "Besides, Ami's always so even-tempered and logical. What if she just thinks I'm some sort of primitive brute?"

Author's note: Finally... I started writing this in 2014. I'm so glad to finally let it see the light of day. Did you catch the little nods to Frozen, Supernatural and Spiderman? Also is it just me or did the poster for the dance really 'mirror' Haruka and Michiru?

Next up: More trauma for poor Mako-chan. Will Ami 'freeze' up while facing her worst nightmare? Domestic outer senshi, homo sweet homo. A rather 'heated' moment between Rei and Mina. Stay tuned.

In the name of the moon, I will PUNish you.

#sailor moon fic #makoami #reinako #long post

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