#but they stick around and their parents still dive bomb you if you get too close

[abirddogmoment]

It's fledgling season and unfortunately all the newly fledged adults are scrungly af 😭

#find me where the wild things are #red winged blackbird #the first photo is an adult male #the other three are newly fledged adults #that means theyre like teenagers #essentially self sufficient and they can fly awkwardly #but they stick around and their parents still dive bomb you if you get too close #also they look..... ugly..... #i like the centre right photo because you can see his little red shoulder patch starting to come in

[falling-pages]

A bird? A bird: Hikaru x Haruhi

in which drunk Hikaru is a mood.

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Hikaru Hitachiin x Haruhi Fujioka

-

Enemies to lovers, non-host club au, aged up au.

-

TW: Drinking

-

The disgust lingered in the back of his throat like iron, like a bad pill you swallow but not fast enough. He fumbled the chaser to his liquor, and now he was stuck with the gross aftertaste. The refuge of his office, where he gulped down air like water, could only last so long. He couldn’t even go out in the common area, break room or restroom without having to see her--and for that, for taking away his freedom and social butterfly antics, he hated her.

Every time he saw her cute little snarl and tight little bun and stiff black skirts enraged him, filling his blood with a heat he didn’t know how to deal with. Despite her short height, she held her nose in the air as she worked, the only way she could look down on everyone like she so desperately craved. Always propping up her law degree, well this and actually that, ruining any jokes he made with a deadpan stare. She messed with his head, distracted him from his work, and for that she must go.

As much as he had tried to get her fired--and he had tried--nothing made the boss budge. He tried pulling rank, as the head of the software department; he tried using his parents’ names; nothing worked.

She’s doing a stellar job, the bossman had said. And, she’s our lawyer. If we did fire her for no reason, she would sue us into the ground.

I do have a reason, Hikaru retorted. She annoys me.

It wouldn’t hold up in court, but it seemed good enough for him.

Hikaru inhaled deeply through his nose, grounding himself by gripping his desk. Surrounded by all his trophies and achievements, he still could only think of her. He had to handle this, or else he’d go insane, but he had no idea where to start.

Kaoru. Kaoru would know what to do.

He rose from his chair, taking one last look behind him at the stained glass city through his clear glass window. Despite it only being mid-afternoon, the city was pulsing and alive with color, birds dive-bombing for food, vendors hawking at passersby, tourists mixing and bumping into natives. Tokyo was loud, and crazy, and alive, where he knew he belonged and longed to be. Even nature was straining at its leash for the workday to end, eager to celebrate the Friday night.

He turned back and shut the lights off in his office, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he walked. His department was rather quiet, having given his employees the afternoon off. If Haruhi knew, she would chide him, but they were so far ahead of schedule that he couldn’t risk them burning out.

Once up the stairs and around the corner, he heard his brother’s voice laughing and chatting and speak of the devil, she’s here.

It shouldn’t have surprised him. Karou and Haruhi were surprisingly great friends; he tended to mellow her out, help her unwind from the stick up her ass. He just had that calming effect on people.

As soon as he saw her, Hikaru spun a 180 and turned right back around the corner, and Haruhi would have let him, but Karou intervened.

“Hika! Come over here!” he waved, a bright smile splitting his face. “Haruhi was just telling me how much she liked you!”

Haruhi seethed, switching to a guarded pose as soon as she saw him. “I certainly was not.”

“Oh, right, my bad, she was telling me how much she liked your latest game patch,” Kaoru apologized, but it was the furthest thing from sincere. “Tell us about how you came up with it. Haruhi would love to pick your brain.”

Hikaru smirked, testing the waters as he approached. “Is that true, Fujioka?”

She frowns, pushing her bridge up her glasses up her nose. God, those glasses. She looked so dumb in them, making her eyes seem so wide, so innocent, so...pretty. All he wanted to do was pluck them off her face and laugh as she jumped for them, reaching and whining.

“I mean, it’s original, for sure,” she said. His cheeks warmed at the praise, even as she squirmed. “And it should market well, and you didn’t infringe on anyone’s copyright this time.”

That wasn’t my fault. He took the compliment with a grain of salt, biting back, “Still in the whole get-up, I see. Not much for casual Fridays?”

As amber eyes raked down her body, Haruhi concealed the shiver that ran down her spine. “No, actually, because I didn’t go to law school to wear jeans every day at work.”

“You didn’t go to law school to become a smartass, either, but here we are.”

“OKAY!” Kaoru exclaimed, jumping up between them. “Friday afternoon, yeah? Any big plans for the weekend?”

Both instigators ignored him. “That’s the uniform, you know. We tend to be pretty laid back around here.”

“Lawyers can’t be laid back. Laziness and a laissez-faire attitude is how we get sued.”

Hikaru stretched, rolling his eyes. “Woah, woah, pardon your French.”

Haruhi shook her head, and a few mismanaged strands of hair fell from her bun to brush against her neck. Her pink lips perched in contempt, and she looked so fragile, squinting behind her thick-framed glasses, that he couldn’t help but notice how tight her shirt was, tucked into a pencil skirt that hugged so tastefully over her--

“Hika!” Kaoru suddenly exclaimed. “Honey wants to know if we’re still down for drinks tonight.”

His saving grace. “Oh, my God, yes,” he moaned, salivating already at the thought of tequila burning down his throat. Washing the week away was just what he needed, especially with the way this conversation was going.

And then Kaoru did the unthinkable: With his award-winning smile, he turned to Haruhi and asked, “Would you like to come?”

Hikaru could have strangled him.

But God heard his prayers, and the resident buzzkill shook her head. “Thank you, but sorry. I don’t drink.”

“No surprise there,” Hikaru murmured.

Kaoru definitely heard that, but if Haruhi did, she didn’t react. He shot his twin a look, a be polite etched into the lines of his brow.

“Sad,” Kaoru said. He bent over to pick up his work bag, stuffing his bento within and waving to Haruhi. “Maybe next time? We can go out for boba or something.”

Haruhi smiled--Hikaru didn’t think he had ever seen that before. It did something to him; suddenly, he felt as if his body was shaking, like his throat was full of needles, like he had taken one too many to the head.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” she said, and the smile disappeared when she looked at him. She gave them both a quick nod. “Have a great weekend.”

“Thanks.”

“See you Monday!”

Hikaru waited until they were out the door before punching his twin in the arm, hard enough to make him yelp.

“Dude, watch it,” Kaoru snapped, brushing over the mussed fabric of his cardigan sleeve. “It’s cashmere.”

“Stop flirting with her.”

Kaoru stopped in his tracks. A cloudy sky obscured the smirk on his face. “Woah, what’s got you so worked up?”

Hikaru kept stomping towards their subway stop, too lost in his own anger to notice who he had left behind. “‘M not worked up,” he retorted. “But you’re dating Kyoya. You shouldn’t be flirting with a girl.”

Kaoru skipped to catch up, joining him as they descended the stairs. “Kyoya said it’s fine if I flirt, as long as I come home to him every night.”

It took everything in Hikaru to keep him from shoving his brother into the sad, drab gray stone walls. He couldn’t put a finger on the irritation nettling just below his skin, or why the first layer of his heart seemed to simmer whenever he caught them talking to each other. All he could figure out was that it burned, and it made him hate her even more.

When he stayed silent, Kaoru knew he was right. He preened as he dug around for his subway card. “Boba isn’t a date.”

“Of course it is.”

“Then maybe you should ask her out on one.”

By then they were at the platform, waiting for their train. As the whistle signaled its approach, Hikaru very seriously considered pushing Kaoru onto the tracks.

“Tch. Over my dead body.”

“Then you can’t be jealous.”

“I’m not--”

Hikaru threw a punch when the train approached, distracting him and allowing Kaoru to live to see another day. As they hurried on, Hikaru couldn’t get his mind out of the gutter--or off her.

Jealous. Pshhh.

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

“I dunno, senpai, she just….she makes me feel something. Whenever she talks to me it’s like my hands are on fire, and my head hurts, and I feel like….like she’s stabbing me. There’s something going on in my chest, like a, like a--a bird. There’s a bird or a butterfly or something with wings in my stomach, and I don’t like it.”

Hikaru knocked back a shot and signaled for another one, eyes bleary as he tried to find the bartender. There were three of them, or maybe that was just how blurry his vision was, but he didn’t care; as long as one of them saw him and passed him another round, he’d tip them the moon.

Mitsukuni watched his friend wave to no one, the effect of one too many fireballs in the span of just two hours. He hadn’t seen Hikaru this hammered since college--and now, at 27, it just looked more like a cry for help than an occasion to let loose. And without Kaoru, who had already gone home with Kyoya and the rest of their friend group, on babysitting duty, Mitsukuni was the one left to make sure he got into a cab.

“A bird?” he asked, watching as Hikaru swung his head in confirmation.

“A bird.” A bartender came back with another shot, handing it to the redhead and giving Mitsukuni a questioning look. He waved at him, confirming he was the babysitter, and the waiter turned back around.

“Tell me about that.”

Hikaru gripped his cup, tonguing at the rim like a sippy cup. “It’s fluttering around, Honey. It’s--hiccup--like, moving. Whenever I see her or talk to her my heart just begins to pound.”

Mitsukuni bit back a smile. His vodka cran lay forgotten on the bar, but this experience was just too amusing to violate with alcohol. “And what do you think that means?”

“Means she’s gonna kill me.”

“Kill you?” His eyebrows shot up. “Why is that?”

Hikaru slurped the shot, spilling some down his chin, and Mitsukuni was fairly sure it was just plain water. “Because. She’s mean, senpai. She looks at me like she’s studying, like she’s gonna slice me in half. Like...I dunno. Like I mean something to her.”

Mistukuni twisted his wedding ring, inching closer to the discovery. He’s almost there, almost recognizing what the rest of the friend group has known for months. “And if you mean something to her, why does your heart flutter?”

“Acid reflux.”

“No, Hikaru.” He gently swatted the other man’s hand down before he could ask for another drink. “It sounds like the beginnings of love, to me.”

Hikaru gaped, not a thought behind those eyes, until it hit him like a wrecking ball. His fist fell to the bar, thudding, but he felt no pain. Only existential dread and a rocketing realization.

“Oh.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Oh, fuck.”

-

If you like what I write, please considering buying a coffee :)

#ouran high school host club #hikaru x haruhi #hikaharu #hikaru hitachiin #haruhi fujioka #enemies to lovers #ohshc

[votederpycausemufins]

The next chapter is going to be the last chapter. It’ll mostly end on a happy note, though there will be something at the end :3

@petrichormeraki @helleborusangel

Grian was glad to finally finish sorting through all the paperwork, narrowly missing Lynn arriving with another Watcher to discuss his kids. He dragged Grifter along with him and made a portal back to his base, glad that it seemed everything would be calm for a while. Until Grifter screamed.

Grian was sure it was just going to be a chicken left over from Hermit Challenges since those always seemed to appear at the worst times. Maybe someone wearing a chicken head who happened to be around. But instead, there was actually someone standing there. Someone Grian ever so vaguely recognized.

“H-hi there person I haven’t seen before. I’m Grian and that’s Grian and we cloned oursel-” Grifter quickly tried to say, but then freaked out as a chicken appeared next to him.

“Don’t lie. I already know what’s going on. I don’t like it, but you’ll get out mostly scott free. This time.”

“Ha ha ha... “ Grifter weakly laughed, glancing at the chicken to his side. “Hey, so is Mini-”

“Go home before I change my mind Ze.”

“Um, I actually changed it to-” Grifter started to speak before the chicken next to him hissed, making him jump and then make a portal back to helscraft.

Grian looked away from where his copy stood to where Punch was floating. As a Watcher, Grian could feel the death magic radiating off of the man. The man signaled to the chicken which hopped over to him and fluttered its way up to his lap where he pet it like a villain would their cat. “So. Xel I presume?”

After seeing how Punch had responded to Grifter correcting him, Grian just nodded. “Yeah.”

For a moment, the man just stared at Grian before smiling. “Well I’m sure you’re much better than my nephew. It’s a shame that your guide ignored you all those years ago.”

Grian had no clue what was being talked about. “Guide? What guide?”

“Something that could be discussed another time. You have more things to worry about. I’m sure your mother won’t be happy about me sticking around here too long, so I’ll leave you with a gift.” The man looked down to his chicken. “Kokatori, why not stay with Xelqua for a bit?” The chicken clucked once before hopping back down to the ground and standing next to Grian. “If anyone asks, you got it from a guy named Pablo.”

Punch looked like he was about to leave, but then at the last moment to turn back. “Oh, and by the way, I’d check your calendar if I were you. It’s currently May.”

Grian was left puzzled for a few moments as Punch disappeared. May? What did it currently being May have to do with anything. The only thing going on was closer to the end and- Grian pulled his comm out and checked the date. They had been so focused on the mess of the past week that Grian barely registered the days were actually passing. “I NEED TO FIND MUMBO!”

.

.

.

Mumbo watched as Grian was using Watcher magic to multitask. He had explained everything that happened while Grian was gone to him, and the builder was glad to be filled in, but before Mumbo could ask much, Grian pulled out a calendar, his communicator, a book, and also a lead which he put his new chicken on. “Grian, are you doing okay?”

“NO!” Grian stressfully shouted at Mumbo, making him take a step back. Had something happened? Was someone hurt again? Was it the boys? “I DON’T EVEN KNOW IF GRUM CAN EAT CAKE!”

“I’m… sorry what are you talking about?” Mumbo asked, a bit calmer but much more confused.

Grian thrust the calendar into Mumbo’s face. “It’s currently May 21st! We have less than a week to get everything ready!”

“Ready for…?”

“Are you- GRUM’S FIRST BIRTHDAY!”

Mumbo’s eyes widened at Grian answer. “Oh my word! That really is just around the corner, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. I already had some plans in place of course but now it’s basically all out the window since there’s more family and friends involved to invite. Right now the only thing taken care of is presents!”

“Right, and did it get delivered?”

“Of course it did! I hid it in a por- I HID IT IN A PORTAL! THE BOYS COULD ACTUALLY GET THERE NOW!” Grian yelled, freaking out.

“Okay, calm down. It’s going to be fine. If we need to, we can hide it somewhere else. And I’m sure even if we don’t move it, it’s going to be perfectly fine. I doubt either of the boys will manage to get in there.” Mumbo did his best to calm Grian. “I know the boys wanted some people to visit today. Possibly you can get those people to come and we can find time to ask them more about who else the boys might have gotten close to and get a guest list that way.”

Grian was glad to finally finish sorting through all the paperwork, narrowly missing Lynn arriving with another Watcher to discuss his kids

Grian snapped his fingers at the idea before putting almost everything away. “That’s a great idea. Let me message Tommy on the change of plans. You said they wanted Fundy and Michael?”

“And Michael’s parent since he’s young. Parents? I’m not completely sure, I’m sure all those time problems didn’t help.”

“I’m sure they didn’t.” Grian remarked as he finished sending a message. “There. Now I guess we wait for Tommy to respond.” And he didn’t need to wait long as a message arrived. “Okay! He says I can pick them all up, though I might need to search a little for Fundy. But I’m sure he’ll want to visit Iskall at the very least.”

“Oh, that’s right! There’s one thing I forgot to mention.” Mumbo spoke up, making Grian’s head whip in his direction. “It’s maybe a little concerning, but I’m sure it will be fine. It… it just looks like Grum might be skittish around Iskall again. It makes sense after everything that happened of course, but better I remember to tell you now and not let you find out yourself.”

“I guess you’re right about it making sense. It sort of was like he got… void he got brainwashed again.”

“Hey, he managed to do well on his own. Might not be the best way to take after you, but it’s still good he took after your survival skills.”

“Oh ha ha. I don’t have survival skills.” Grian rolled his eyes. “The amount of times I’ve dive bombed or exploded myself. I mean, You know how many times I died testing my minigame mister ‘Watch This’.”

Mumbo chuckled for a moment. “Not one of my finer moments. But I meant about when you were growing up. I know it’s not your favorite time, but you made it through that part of your life. Grum was able to do the same.”

“I wish he didn’t have to. I wish neither of them got stuck there.”

“I’m sure no one did. But they did and got through it, and that’s what matters. So let’s just work on making sure they know everything’s fine now. Go pick up Tommy and the others.”

“Alright. And thanks for the talk Mumbo.”

“Always.”

.

.

.

Jrum was practically bouncing off the walls when he saw Michael. Grum was a bit more reserved, but was also pretty excited. It seemed Michael was a little nervous being in such a new place, but Jrum was quickly at the ziglin’s side to reassure him. To the side, Fundy was currently admiring the marvel that was the spawn area. Since Jrum had gone with their friend, Grum made his way to the hybrid. “Um, hi Fundy.”

“Wh- Oh hey Grum! How’re you doing?”

Grum rubbed his arm. “Better. Thank you for helping me out when everything was happening. You didn’t need to.”

“Of course I did. You’re a kid and what Dream was doing was seriously fucked up.” He got a look from Grum. “Well, okay. Maybe I wouldn’t have normally, but he kept getting me involved and Iskall knew you, so it was kind of different.”

“Well, thank you very much for that.” Grum said, hugging Fundy. “Well, I bet you want to see Iskall’s tree.”

“Oh hell yeah! Where’s the Omega Tree?”

Immediately Jrum was back next to them. “I can take him there! I’ll also see if Iskall is there or can get there soon! You can play with Michael while we’re gone!”

Grum nodded and looked to Michael. “Do you think that your parents will let you follow me through the nether to a place to play? I know a safe path and Dad assured me if something were to happen, you would absolutely safely respawn.”

Michael snorted before running over to Tubbo and Ranboo, interrupting their conversation with Tommy. Grum followed him over to elaborate on whatever he would say, or just translate in general. When they were told of the idea, Ranboo and Tubbo weren’t entirely sure about it, but Tommy put in a good word. “C’mon, Grian and Mumbo let the bots run around on their own all the time. This place is safe, so he’ll be fine.”

“I guess… but only if you two stick to the overworld. The nether might be faster, but it’s also dangerous.” Tubbo relented.

Grum thought it over. They would need to take a boat over to where they were going, and there would be a bit of a trek through the jungle, but there was a path they could take. “Of course! We will do what we can to stay as safe as possible. Now…” Grum pointed to the bubble elevator. “Up the tube!”

Michael followed behind Grum to get to the surface and the bot crafted up a boat for the two of them. As Grum rowed, Michael looked around at everything around them. Though there wasn’t too terribly much in the ocean in the direction they were headed, there were enough large builds that could still be seen to keep Michael in awe.

Eventually they landed and Grum led them through the jungle. “The best place to play is in Uncle Scar’s village. It's got plenty of buildings to work with and the style is perfect for games! And then nearbyish is Larry the snail and the magic arrow.”

Michael oinked a quick question and Grum elaborated as they walked. When they finally reached the village, Michael quickly ran into it and started exploring, Grum quickly following behind the ziglin. Though the buildings themselves were interesting, Michael decided the best thing were the small mushrooms that had built along the path.

“Yeah! My Daddy really likes those too. He also found a haunted bed when he owned the place for a bit. I wonder if it’s still haunted. Ooo!” Michael pretended to be scared before laughing, and then the two went off to play in the village together.

Back at spawn, Tommy was still chatting with Tubbo and Ranboo when Grian arrived. “Hey, have you guys seen my boys?”

“Yeah, Jrum took Fundy to Iskall’s and Grum went with Michael to play.” Tommy answered. “Why, is something wrong?”

“No, I was actually making sure they weren’t around.” Grian looked to Ranboo and Tubbo. “Are you two willing to come back with Michael in like five days? It’s going to be Grum’s birthday and maybe Michael can be one of the guests?”

“Oh hell yeah, you two need to come. It’ll be so pog!” Tommy said, hoping they would agree to visiting again.

“I guess we probably can, but it’ll also depend on how today goes.” Ranboo answered, Tubbo agreeing with him.

“Okay good.” Grian nodded, writing something down. He then looked over to Ranboo. “Do you have any idea some of the people the boys were close to when they were stuck over there?”

“Sometimes I barely remember my name.”

“Hmm, alright I guess I’ll have to ask Fundy.”

“Hey, I do know one thing.” Tommy piped up. “Or maybe two. Wil’s also a big music lover, so there might be something there. The other bit you probably aren’t going to like though.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine. What is it?”

“Pretty sure Grum’s favorite uncle is Techno now.”

Grian was just silent as he contemplated the answer. Tommy nervously glanced at his friends before taking a slight step back, worried about how exactly Grian would react. When the avian’s wings started puffing up, Tommy was sure they would need to run, but instead Grian just took a deep breath. “Alright. Fine. I was already planning to invite him since he’s family and all. Yep. It’s fine. Totally fine.”

“It doesn’t sound fine.” Tubbo spoke up, and Grian quickly looked at them with a glare, though he was still smiling.

“Nope. It’s absolutely completely fine.” Then Grian sighed. “Well, I guess I’m going to find Fundy and ask him some questions. If you think of anything else, just message me.”

Tommy agreed before the avian flew off and then looked to his friends. “Alright, so this is probably the best excuse to show you around the shopping district since I’m going to need to pick something up. And if you guys want to buy something, just say the word, I can spare some diamonds.”

“Are you sure? We could get our own-” Ranboo started to speak up, but got stopped by Tommy.

“Nah, don’t worry. I’ll probably earn back whatever I spend in like a week. Probably from one of the redstoners.” Then Tommy led them to the bubble column. “Now let’s go. Oh, and Ranboo, if you need some armor to help with the water, just grab one from one of the stands. That’s what they’re there for.”

“You mean… the full netherite armor?”

“Yep.”

“Something tells me even I won’t have trouble forgetting all of this.”

#hermit!tommy au #hermit!tommy #hc x dsmp #grian #watcher!grian #grian xelqua #avian!Grian #hels!grian #mystery character #the watchers (evo) #mumbo jumbo #grumbot #jrumbot #tommyinnit #tubbo #michael_beloved #michael underscore beloved #itsfundy

[matt0044]

“You can only be the best by winning.”

Seems like a Broken Aesop yet also sums up Power Rangers in essence. :/

Izzy is training for a big race against her greatest rival, some... Asian girl. Seriously, we don’t even get a name for her competition. We do get a name for her cousin and coach, Lily, somebody who I suppose has Asperger Syndrome as well as her New Zealand Accent intact. Mind you, I don’t know for such since I’m on the high functioning end of the spectrum so I dunno if I’m a good judge. :/

I can say that I appreciate the way Lily was handled in terms of not making the conflict be about her disability. I know that Tokenism is a concern but it never feels as though she’s a “special character” so to speak. Credit where it’s due for portraying this group fairly respectably compared to other media in the past.

Solon deduces that the Tiger Claw Zord and Stego Spike Zord are nearby where the Nephrite Orb was discovered but need a device to hone in on them far better. All the while, Jane and J-Borg are at the park showing children public safety around Sporix with an admittedly catchy jingle for the Ranger hotline too.

It’s corny but I still like that this season has the enemy as a legit public concern to the point that PSAs are given out about them. I feel like that should be played with like with parodies of YouTube videos ranting about Sporix. Wait... a threat to the public that’s spread out thin and can attack within close proximity?

I’m not saying that this predicted CO-VID but...

A Sporix hatches in front of the kids as the Jays urge them to keep calm... until Mucus and Boomtower come to collect Brineblast. I feel like they should’ve screamed, “Panic!” like it’s a Spongebob cartoon. The Rangers arrive in time so they can show off Izzy and Javi’s full morphing sequence. I feel like they should’ve taken the roll call from the more dynamic Ryusoulger in this regard.

Speaking of Ryusoulger, Amelia and Ollie are preoccupied with the Hengemen while Izzy steps it up with Zayto in order to take on Brineblast using Boost Keys. Javi gets into a row with Boomtower with sharp reflexes in using a Shield Key when he’s too close to dodge a blast. Mucus hangs back to hear about the Rangers seeking out the Tiger Claw Zord and reports right back to Void Knight.

Izzy finds Lily to be a no-show due to helping a friend shop at the last minute and decides to rely on herself to prepare for the upcoming race. Of course, we later learn that Lily’s friend broke her leg and needed to get things all the way on the top shelf. Once again, I do like they opted to not have Lily’s disability be the reason why Izzy’s all fed up but rather something neurotypicals can bungle.

Void Knight discovers a map in Area 62′s archives that indicates that they found metallic readings under the Earth they couldn’t identify, pointing to a fossilized Zord. Brineblast is sent back out to distract the Rangers by going giant while Mucus and Boomtower drill down to destroy the Zord with a bomb.

Warden Garcia encourages Izzy that she’s not the best if she’s not winning. Stepfather of the year everybody! Okay, obviously this isn’t an attitude that’ll stick as tends to be with most Power Rangers parents but all the same, yeesh. In any case, Izzy starts the race along the mountain where her Zord is likely laying. Soon, she will settle her rivalry against whats-her-face once and for all.

The Jays set up posters for the Ranger Hotline when Brineblast reaches his giant stage. The ladies dive into the dumpster and roll down the hill while ringing up the Rangers. I feel J-Borg should scoop up Jane and head for the hills Scooby-Doo style. Dumpsters are so Victor and Monty. Also am I the only one who has just realized that J-Borg sounds a lot like Tensou from Megaforce?

Izzy tries to finish the race before joining the Rangers in the Megazord until her rival trips and falls down a slope. Even with a strong lead, she stops to help the competition in the usual wholesome Power Rangers move. It even gets her to think about Lily’s talk about how sometimes there’s more than only just winning.

It also gets her to discover Mucus and Boomtower drilling a bomb down to her Zord and causing her to spring into action on the double. In order to avoid losing out on her giant robot death cat, she gets the Megazord to bring the battle with Brineblast over to the mountain where they can free it “accidentally.”

Thus the Tiger Claw Zord escapes the explosion just in time and gives Brineblast a run for his money. Hell, it even does a Matrix Bullet Time Dodge. Say what you will about how the design might seem too toyetic even for Toku but the XFX artists are clearly doing damn well with the assets they are given.

We also see that Izzy’s Zord can interface with the current Megazord, swapping out some of Zayto’s components for her own with a thrusting finisher to boot. Not so sweet is Boomtower collecting the now dormant Brineblast for Void Knight’s secret weapon. I still like how the villains can technically win despite losing their monster. It keeps them from not feeling ineffective until they aren’t.

Izzy finishes up the race as Warden Garcia concedes that she did good by helping out a racer in need. She even reconciles with Lily as well. Meanwhile, our intrepid duo get a ticket for recklessly driving a dumpster into a police car. I’m guessing this is the shtick: white women and their robots be ackin’ cray-cray.

#Power Rangers #power rangers dino fury #dino fury #super sentai #kishiryu sentai ryusoulger #ryusoulger #nick #nickelodeon #nicktoons #hasbro #hasbro studios #allspark pictures #toei #toei company #toei limited

[moonlightreal]

Fate episode 5

Welcome back to Elemental Academy!  When we left, the three adults had fallen prey to inescapable Plot of being adults in a YA franchise and decided “we must hide the truth and manipulate our students, for their own good.” Words cannot convey how sad this makes me.  The three of them having their moments as competent, experienced residents of a magical world was the neatest thing in this show.  

But first, we just got a backstory bomb courtesy of Beatrix!  Let’s give it a closer look before we dive into episode 5.

So Beatrix’s story is that a peaceful town called Aster Dell was surrounded by Burned Ones and the powers that be decided to nuke the place, sacrificing the humans to take out the Burned Ones.  And that decision was made by our three adults, Miss Dowling, Silva and Harvey, and Rosalind, and Queen Luna.  But Rosalind had an attack of conscience and turned against the others, and managed to save two babies from the town, Bloom and Beatrix.  She left Beatrix with a friend and dumped Bloom in the human world.  The three Alfea adults captured Rosalind and stuck her under the school, and Queen Luna cast an illusion over the ruins of Aster Dell to… erase the event from history in a world where Instagram exists?  How does THAT work?  That was apparently the last stand of the Burned Ones because they all vanished until just now.

It certainly paints our adults in a bad light!  But is it true?  I mean we did hear it from Beatrix!  She not only… is Beatrix… she wasn’t there at the time.  Maybe the Burned Ones had already killed everyone before the town was nuked.  Maybe the adults thought the townsfolk were already dead and nuked the place on bad intel.  Maybe Queen Luna nuked the town and the three teachers were just helping clean up after.  Maybe Luna ordered them to do it, she is QUEEN after all.  Maybe the adults knew that nuking this one town would end the Burned One threat forever and were willing to sacrifice hundreds to save millions.  I mean, there’s not really a GOOD excuse to nuke a town, but there’s better and worse reasons.

Gee, it’d help if we knew what Burned Ones actually were and where they come from!  

...Hang on, how sure are we that Sky’s father is actually dead?  Because he hung out with all these adults and he’s a “he.”  And he’s in a photo therefor there’s an actor to play him.  If he’s the friend who raised Beatrix then B would have grown up knowing only his and Rosalind’s side of the story, not any circumstances that might make the Alfea adults look non-awful.  Then Beatrix wouldn’t even have to be lying.  Of course that raises the question of why Andreas would be raising Beatrix instead of his actual son, a weird parenting choice.  Maybe he just would’ve rather have a daughter!  Sky seems to have turned out all right with Silva as foster-dad.  

So, anybody wanna lay bets?  Is reappearing dead dad more or less likely than a master Burned One hiding in a cave?  (and yes I know most of you have already seen the last episode and are laughing at me trying to guess, and that makes me happy.)

Ok, let’s hit episode 5!

We open at night, some guards stand stoically outside while we torture Beatrix!  She’s shrieking and rolling around with the antimagic cuffs biting into her wrists while Dowling tries to read her mind. Silva expresses worry that they’re hurting the girl and Dowling says, ‘I’m pushing through her mental defenses, it’s painless. This is an act.”  

And it probably is, because Beatrix sits up and starts on, “Nobody will believe you, I have the better story.  Everyone will whisper that you’re torturing poor fragile me.”

Dowling asks questions about where she went with Bloom, why kill Callan, is Bloom in on it with you, do you have anything to do with the Burned Ones… Dowling, you look a little pathetic not knowing all those things!

Beatrix is being creepy as blazes, 10/10 for her actress narrating the rumors that will spread about her own torture.  ‘Her screams echoed through the school… then one day, they stopped.  No one knows what happened to the poor girl, but everyone knows who did it.”  this is marvelously delivered.  I wonder if Beatrix is planning her own death to make it look like Dowling killed her.  How obsessed with her idea of revenge is she?

And Beatrix wins!  Her description drives Dowling from the room and Silva after an uncomfortable look back and forth, follows her out.  The two specialists standing guard continue stoic.  they’re outside the big doors from the last episode, inside is a big cage with a bed and stuff for keeping prisoners in semi-comfort. But the walls are paper thin and apparently this has been going on for a week!  I think B just screamed a lot all week and only now spilled her plans.

Alfea has stone dungeons with thick walls, why aren’t we using one of those?  Or why haven’t the police come take her away to charge her with murder?  Are the Alfea teachers the entire justice system of Solaria?  I think the teachers are going under the table and Beatrix played them.

With a week of torture added, we’re now 3-4 weeks into the school year.

Bloom is outside, hiding behind a car, watching the adults leave the cell. She starts texting when Dane comes up behind her.  He says he knows what she’s doing and Bloom does the most badly-acted little grin when she says she’s not doing anything.  But Dane says he’s on guard duty tomorrow night and he’ll help her get in to talk to Beatrix.

Interesting that it’s Dane and Bloom, not Dane and Riven, or just Riven.  

Opening!

We jump to Bloom and Sky fighting a Burned One in a hedge maze!  But it’s only an illusion training dummy, it turns into one of those big glass gemstones.  

Sky has a little cut on his face and Bloom closes it with magic.  Just cauterizes it I assume, unless she has healing magic and we weren’t told.  Healing is usually under the water or earth element in these sorts of systems.

Bloom: “I just wish they’d tell us how to fight these things.”

Yes, fighting teachers should do that.  Kind of the point of having teachers.  

Everybody else is fighting too!  The fairies seem to have joined the specialists on their mats.  Another girl throws fire, so Bloom’s not the only fire fairy here.  Riven shows off his stick-fighting skill.  Dowling and Silva watch, with Aisha taking notes on a clipboard as Dowling’s new assistant.  Terra shows off her vines grabbing… is that a new adult?  We don’t get a good look but it looks like a man in specialist gear.  Bloom and Sky’s voiceover says, “It’s like they’ve gone full wargames.” and “Well they were soldiers before they were teachers so it’s on-brand for Alfea faculty.”

Harvey arrives in the hedge maze and Sky asks for a hint.  This is the only exercise he and Bloom can’t pass.  

Subtitles (thanks for the suggest, january-summers!) say Harvey’s first name is Ben.  And he’s gonna lay some info on us!  ‘Inside each burned One is a magical core called a cinder, and with time and finesse you can use your magic to destroy it.”  That… seems like a factoid that should’ve been shared in the “all about Burned Ones” lecture that should have happened at the beginning of this martial push?  Just sayin?

He also explains how fairy-and-specialist fighting works.  The fairy must trust her specialist to protect her so that she can “channel controlled magic” without freaking out and lighting the woods on fire when a monster comes at her.  And he must trust her to destroy the thing.  Ok, that makes sense.  That works.  So is it normal for fairies and specialists to team up in pairs?  Is that what they do in the army too?  Were Dowling and Silva one such pair?  Maybe Harvey and his unseen wife were and she’s unseen because she died in the war.  Now I’m imagining Mrs. Harvey was a badass specialist.

Bloom flirtatiously asks if she can trust Sky and he more sensibly asks if he can trust her.  He thinks Bloom was being awfully teachers-pet to Harvey.  Bloom says since the outing with Beatrix everyone’s been watching her like a hawk, wondering if she’s Beatrix’s evil henchwoman.  They joke about Bond villains and Sky has seen several James Bonds.  Then they go back for another try against the illusory Burned One.

But they are being watched!  In fact Bloom is being watched by Sky, who gets a very meaningful look from Silva as he goes past.  Dowling eyeballs Bloom, who smiles innocently back.  The teachers are walking with Aisha and Musa, And Musa is reading Bloom and Sky to see if they’re tired yet.  She does say “I know they know I’m doing it, but it still feels invasive.”  Musa would rather use magic on a real enemy!  But Dowling says mind reading is support magic and that’s just as important.  ‘Your magic can help us assess fragile states of mind or uncover hidden enemies.’

Aisha asks, ‘like Beatrix?” and Musa asks how B is doing and if they found out why she killed Callan.  But Dowling just says, ‘let’s keep focused.” which, I can see why she’s not telling them everything but she is playing right into Beatrix’s hands.

Terra’s getting a drink of water on break between sparring.  A girl specialist with a great hairdo, buns up the back of her head, compliments Terra on her vine restraint move.  Terra says, ‘thanks, it’s all bout the tensile strength of the cellulose.”

Riven comes and sits down by Terra and says, “Tensile strength.  Hot.” Terra, not sure what to make of that either but knowing Riven, pointedly ignores him.  But Riven is having one of his likeable moments and says, ‘She’s right you know.  you’re a force out there.”

Wanna comment on two things.  First, Freddy Thorpe who plays Riven is great.  He keeps making me want to like his objectively awful character.  And he’s a fine lookin’ dude, the grin, the scruffy stubble… I hope he goes far as an actor.  And second, the leather sword vests the specialists wear are really neat.  Swords attach to the back somehow, Riven’s got a couple of potion bottles in pockets—which I hope they’re plastic and empty, glass bottles and fighting do not mix!  And I’m not sure if it’s a vest or a vest and shoulder scabbard and separate belt.  But all the specialists have them, and we know this show doesn’t spend much on props… I wonder if I can find the source?  

Not immediately, it turns out.  Anybody better with renfaire gear know where to get these things?  Or what they’re called?

Polite Terra says, “You too.”  but Riven wasn’t.  He was garbage at fighting.  Terra kindly says, ‘It’s been a weird week.” and “I know you and Beatrix were… close, so it must be really hard.” Terra is sweet.  You can see her kinds thinking it would be kind to say those things even though she’s not keen on Riven.

Dane walks by and says, “Sweet moves Riv, I’ve never seen anybody die so many ways so quickly.  You should go for Alfea’s Got Talent.” heh.

Riven says that was a burn from ‘the first-year monster I created.  Or Beatrix created.”  he says Dane still has a thing for Beatrix… ok HE says “A hard-on for her.  A weird, gay hard-on.  Is he even gay? I don’t know anything anymore.”  and I chuckled because Riven is so delightful when he’s not being a terrible person.  Terra just sits there with that Terra expression like she doesn’t know what to say to that, and now she’s probably worried that by dumping Dane last episode she drove him to the dark side.

Indoors, Sky catches Silva and calls him out on pairing them together so he can spy on Bloom.  Silva says since they’re both strong in their roles nobody questioned it.  But Sky is not feeling great about the whole situation.  The more he talks to Bloom the more convinced he is of her basic innocence, and-- “Stella’s gone, Riven’s a mess, and the person I’m spending the most time with I’m spying on.”

Silva gives him a pep talk, that this matters and it may be lonely but it’s to keep the Otherworld safe.  And this is honor.  Sky hesitates, sighs, then nods and keeps walking.

Silva is drawn back into his memories!  First of being grievously injured and falling down, then I think to another earlier memory recovering after a fight in the forest side by side with Sky’s father.  Who has a serious beard!  Andreas gently mocks his friend for not being tough enough and says Sky might be more useful.  Sky who’s presumable a little kid at the time.  Younger Silva calls him on it, asking when he last even saw his son.  Andreas turns away.

The gang’s all here in flashback, Younger Dowling looks on while Harvey’s dissecting the dead Burned One saying ‘we still have a lot to learn about them.”  Andreas spits on it and Harvey says, ‘Or we could contaminate it.  Ok!”  Heh.  And here comes Rosalind congratulating the four of them on taking it down in under three minutes but saying next time they should shoot for under two.

Back in the present the adults are watching video of the students sparring on a tablet in Dowling’s office.  Dowling is unhappy none of them took down an illusion Burned One, most of them just gave up!  Silva says that’s why they’re in training, they’re not ready yet.

Do these three know about the Burned One Aisha pinned to a tree?  The girls plus Sky have taken out two so far, which isn’t a lot but is more than zero.

Badass Marco comes in and he’s in trouble!  He and his partner whose name turns out to be Noura took out a Burned One near the school—but it wasn’t alone!  Now Marco has been poisoned!  Harvey rushes for the medicine.  Marco says “we were taught that Burned Ones are solitary hunters, but two of them traveling together..?”

Dowling says, ‘It’s rare but it happens.” and I don’t know if that’s true or she’s just saying it to look like she’s on top of the situation.

Silva says they should warn “the Solarians” and Marco says he tried, they’re not answering!  And they pulled their troops from the battalion. Dowling says Queen Luna has been “distant” since she pulled Stella out of school.  Marco says they’re low on manpower and “if the Solarians abandon us we’re in serious trouble.”

But isn’t Alfea IN Solaria?  It was on the globe.  They have separate armies?  Maybe the Solarian army is their actual army and the specialist/fairy pairs trained at Alfea are a separate thing?  Maybe Alfea trains elite magical troubleshooters and the Solarian army is made up of trained mundanes?  But wouldn’t the government of the country want to be in control of all armies in that country so there’s no extra armies rattling around getting into trouble?  And Dowling is Luna’s subject so... How does this WORK, show?

Be nice to know what the ratio of magic users to mundanes in the Otherworld is, too.

Over in the girls’ suite, Aisha pensively braids her hair and Terra happily moves her plants around.  The lights are on and there’s sunlight coming through the curtains but the room is still dark, reminding us we’re supposed to be in a grimdark show.  9_9  Batman could’ve just paid his electric bill, then he wouldn’t have to be the DARK knight… sorry, sorry, I actually like grimdark I just have no patience for literally dark when it makes no sense.

Musa gets texts from  Sam.  Musa and Terra have a cute chat about how Musa’s dating Sam.  terra’s happy about it.  Terra is also moving her hundred plants into Stella’s empty room so it “won’t feel so ghostly in there.”

Terra: “and it’s been a week.  We have to accept she’s not coming back.  No matter how much we wonder how she’s doing, call or text...” and she lists every EARTH social media platform she’s checked Stella on.  Musa asks if she misses Stella and Terra immediately says, “No! She was mean and insulting and left without saying goodbye, which was actually the meanest thing...”  Musa asks if her insults would be a good substitute.  Heh.

Terra made her outfit!  She fishes for a Stellaish insult from Musa by mentioning that.  Wow, Terra, you get cooler every time!  Sewing is hard!  I have trouble with just doll clothes!

A pot falls and breaks in Stella’s empty room.  An omen!

Bloom is watching her phone like a hawk as she pretends to study.  Aisha comes in to offer the, “I know you feel like you can’t trust Dowling, but you can talk to me.  I wouldn’t tell.” but Bloom gets a text that Dane is starting his shift and hops up to go do her own investigation.  On the way out Bloom gets a call from her folks. She doesn’t answer.

Aisha goes to the others, “We need to talk about Bloom.  She’s been single-minded about her birth parents and Rosalind for weeks.  And now it seems like she doesn’t care at all.  Are we meant to believe she’s just over it?  I know she’s keeping something from us.” And the girls put the pieces together!  She was texting Dane, Terra heard that “Dane is still team Beatruix”  

And Dane has knocked out his fellow guard with a sedative!  Boy is that a bad idea!  Bloom gapes.  Dane says, “She’s waiting.” in the most doomful way.

And there’s B sitting on her bed in her dark room, fiddling with the magic cuffs.  they’re like barbed wire and are messing up her wrists.  She greets Bloom with, “Took your sweet time!”  Bloom immediately wants to know if the murder thing is true, and B cops to it.  Callan was also there to break Rosalind out, which we knew and now Bloom does.  B says, ‘bit more complicated than evil beatrix kills hapless assistant.”

Bloom: “Dowling, Silva and Harvey haven’t told me the truth about a lot of things but that doesn’t mean you have.”  Yay Bloom! Skepticism!  But Bloom is determined to find out what really happened and Beatrix knows where Rosalind is.  But only if Bloom gets her out of the cage.  Beatrix says Bloom shouldn’t trust her, the faculty, her friends, anybody but Rosalind.

That’s interestingly hero-worshipy of B.  She’s never MET Rosalind, how does she know Rosalind is a good guy?  Or, y’know, whatever Beatrix thinks of as a good guy.

And Bloom’s along for the ride.  Dane gives her a magic thingamabo she can charge up that’ll get the cuffs off Beatrix and then they can go to town.  On the way out Bloom asks Dane why he’s helping her. Even if they were friends, hello, murder!  Dane says, “She’s the only person here who ever made me feel like being different was a good thing.”  And Bloom says she’s helping because “Beatrix is the only one who’s giving me answers.”

Because the adults are caught in Plot!  And we can see where this Plot is going.  Bloom releases Rosalind, who turns out to be master of the Burned Ones and they attack Alfea.  Great job, teachers, what a dumb Plot you are caught in!

What Dane gave Bloom was another big leatherbound book called Ancient Geometry.  Not usually an evil art, but she hides the book in her bag the next morning.  It looks like she’s awake before Aisha but when she leaves Aisha’s eyes immediately open.  She was pretending to be asleep to spy on Bloom!

More outdoor specialist training.  they’ve got some gear, Riven’s doing that arm exercise where you wave two hoses up and down.  Musa picks up a staff and twirls it expertly.  Riven comes over to flirt. Musa says she used to be a dancer, that’s where she got the moves. And she misses being physical.  Riven I think is venting about something else when he says, “Well too bad.  You’re a fairy, they don’t care what you wanna be in this place only what they want you to be.”  Musa reads his mind and gets all of Riven’s hate for Alfea.  Which, yeah, they locked his girl in a cage.

Also is it even true?  Are fairies not allowed to study martial arts? Martial arts is great for emotional control and confidence which would be great for magical control.  I mean it certainly could be that Alfea forces people into roles, but I haven’t seen evidence.

Then Sam comes by and he and Musa head back to the suite where she jumps on him for a makeout session!  Sam puts the brakes on asking if Musa’s upset about something and yeah, she’s angry that mind fairies are support type, they’re “powerless when things actually go wrong.’

Which… true, since Musa can only receive.  She might be able to know the location of every enemy and ally making her super valuable in battle, but if she could project emotion just for a second, jolt an opponent mid attack… but she can’t.  I see her point.

But we get a character building hint!  “A long time ago, family stuff...”  And that’s all.  She says it’s nothing, that she’s just frustrated, and suggests Sam take advantage of that frustration. Which he is happy to do!  Musa shoves him down on the bed, hops on top and takes her shirt off!  Behind this increasingly steamy scene we see one of Terra’s potted plants revolve… then it crashes to the ground, breaking the pot and the mood.  Sam yelps in surprise.

Sam: “Please don’t judge me on my completely legitimate and masculine fear of ghosts which are legitimately creepy...”  Hah!  I like you, Sam.

So… do ghosts actually exist in the Otherworld or are they just seen a lot but not proven same as in ours?

But the moment is gone and Musa says she should find the girls.  She puts her shirt back on and Sam leaves, both of them happily looking forward to their next chance at sexytimes.

Alone and with her shirt back on, Musa scans the room and detects another person!  

Stella appears!  

Stella’s here!  She snuck back a few days ago, and has been hiding invisibly in her room!  

But before we can hear the details we go to Bloom at the stone circle. She’s got the geometry book and a round metal doohicky that she has to charge up to free Beatrix.  She puts it down and channels magic into it, lighting up some jewels on it.  I can’t immediately identify this thing, it’s too big to be jewelry, palm-sized.  

Sky turns up and Bloom tries to hide the book.  Sky can tell she’s doing it, and he’s tired of all the sneaking.  So he comes out and says that Silva has him spying on Bloom—and that he knows Bloom’s not up to anything.  But it was an order.  Bloom is naturally pretty pissed off!  She says quite sensibly, ‘He used you, used our friendship—but I’m the bad guy right?”

I wonder how much of this is because Bloom’s from Earth.  If she’d grown up in the Otherworld would she be less surprised at specialists following orders?  Would she have heard of the adults’ great deeds in the war and been more inclined to trust them?

Anyway Bloom goes to hide the book again and Sky grabs it.  He asks what the magic thingamabob is and Bloom looks away super-guilty.  Sky: “I’m trying to be on your side here but you’re making it really difficult.”

Which is just how I feel about this show quite often!

Sky says Bloom can trust him, Bloom says she’s not sure she can and starts to tell him about Aster Dell.  

Back in Stella’s room poor Stella is telling Musa about her mother.

And her mother, in hologram form, is in Dowling’s office while Dowling asks why she withdrew her troops, when two Burned Ones have been seen together which hasn’t happened in a long time.  The show cuts back and forth between the two scenes.

...Stella says the army’s all out looking for HER!  That’s why.  But Luna won’t look at Alfea, ‘To do that she’ll have to admit she lost control of something, and that’ll never happen.”

Luna: But you’re training the students to fight.  isn’t that supposed to be what you’re teaching my daughter?”

Stella: ‘Project strength and power.  that’s all she cares about.  And I’m an extension of her strength”

Dowling: ‘Is this some sort of punishment?  For not rehabilitating Stella in the way you wanted?”

Stella: “My magic has to be powerful at any cost.  that’s what she taught me”

Luna pooh-poohs the idea that it’s punishment, “but you might consider updating your methods.  Given the threats we face.”

...Evil queen wants to turn Alfea to the ways of the Sith?  THAT’S the plot we’re going for here?  Ok, solid plot, I guess.  Could be worse. But Luna is a bargain basement evil queen if ever I saw one, she wears suits! And too much foundation!  Where’s the spiky crown and overabundance of eyeshadow?  Maybe they were going for an Umbridge kinda character.

Stella: ‘My mum treated me growing up… when positive emotions didn’t work she went right to the negative.  Hard.”

Dowling: “My methods are effective.  And they don’t cause students to lose control and blind their friends!”

Stella: ‘My magic is erratic because of her.”  And Luna disappears and we get to hear the rest of Stella’s story.  Blinding Ricki was an accident, as we could guess, but Stella would rather be seen as a “raging bitch” than weak.  It was safer with her mom.  Stella does know how messed up this is, and when she got home her mom immediately started abusing her again.  No mention of stella having a dad, but Queen Luna’s clearly the ruling party.

Musa says Stella doesn’t have to hide, all the girls will help her. Stella says, ”Are you kidding?  Do you know how judgmental; they are?”

I think the mind reader would know better than you, Stella!  So there’s Stella’s sad story.  And we don’t have to go to the palace of Solaria to rescue her like I was hoping we would.

From that heavy scene we jump to the cafeteria, where bad-boy music plays as Dane gets his lunch.  he’s smoking a cigarette!  And Terra is literally hiding behind a pillar in her homemade dress waiting for him.  He lights up and Terra pounces!

They talk, Dane says rather sensibly, ‘I do one bad thing and you cut me off” and “Beatrix never made me feel this bad.’ and Terra says also sensibly, ‘but murder.” and Dane tries to flee and Terra vine-grabs his ankle and Dane takes a pull on his cigarette and Aisha water-guns it out and the two of them interrogate him on what he’s up to with Bloom.  Dane has no chance.

Over to Bloom and Sky.  Bloom must’ve finished her story since Sky is telling his while Bloom charges the thingy.  He’s lived at Alfea his entire life, with Silva as his foster father.  Bloom brings up some of the things I thought of, that Silva might be part of a massacre if he believed it was for the greater good.  Bloom doesn’t think the adults are evil but she thinks they’re hiding the truth to protect themselves, too.  Bloom says at least Sky grew up hearing stories of his parents from people who knew them.

It looks cold and Sky offers Bloom his jacket.  And Sky is wearing a bright blue shirt and darker blue jacket, almost like a Red Fountain uniform.  I wonder if that’s a holdover from a stage when this was going to be a Winx show.  But Bloom just summons fire in all the braziers to keep warm.

Sky says, ‘Don’t need anyone do you?” and bloom says he’s “a fixer” and she doesn’t need to be fixed.  Sky talks about his father the “great Andreas” the war hero who he’s heard so many stories about, “It’s almost like he’s still alive.  But he’s not.  he’s an ideal.  Do you have any idea how hard that is to live up to?  Even Silva, it’s like he’s playing some role out of a sense of duty.  When all I really want..” poor Sky.  He says he’s a fixer because he’s broken and everyone is.

Anyway it ends with them kissing.

Then the magic thingy is charged.  Bloom says she does trust Sky, but if she told him he’d stop her.

Then Sky faints!

Bloom doped him with the sedative!  It was in her water bottle that she shared with Sky.  Wow, Bloom, dosing your own water bottle just in case you meet someone?  That is impressively scary thinking ahead!

Bloom is clearly really guilty, but she still leaves Sky facedown on the ground in the circle!  Hope no Burned Ones come along while he’s all passed out!

We go to the greenhouse where Harvey is doctoring Badass Marco who took a hit from a Burned One.  Silva is hanging around and Marco, between grunts of pain, asks if he’s handling the pain better than Silva did.  Harvey says the first Burned One poisoning is always the worst, it’s almost a rite of passage-- which suggests lots of people survive such injuries which is not the vibe we were getting a few episodes ago!

Marco asks about Andreas’ son helping take down the Burned One and if he inherited any of Andreas’ “less ideal qualities?  His bloodlust?”

Ok, I’m callin’ it, dead surprisingly evil dad it is!

Silva just says Sky is his own man.

Marco is hurt but he’s not worried.  He’ll survive weeks or months with the medicine, plenty of time for Noura and the battalion to get the Burned One.  There’s Noura on the phone now!  But… oh no!  Noura is grievously injured and everyone else is dead!  She’s out in the woods hurt and surrounded by lots of Burned Ones!  We see on video call as poor Noura tries to run, goes down, and is taken out.  Her phone lies on the ground sending a video of the trees—and fully half a dozen Burned Ones run past it!

Too bad.  I expected Noura and Marco were for the chop, just because in these sorts of stories the trained adults have to be gotten out of the way so the teenage heroines can shine.  But they were the interesting characters!  They were professionals in a magical world.  I wanted to learn more about them.

Bloom, like an amateur, heads to break Beatrix out but Dane isn’t there. Terra and Aisha are.  Bloom sounds positively paranoid as she says, ‘Everyone here is lying to me!  You don’t know what I know!” but they do, Dane spilled all the beans. Terra sounds about to cry as she says her dad would never do something like that.  Bloom sounds super paranoid as she says to herself, ‘You’re his daughter and you’re Dowling’s little helper, I’m not gonna convince either of you, just like Sky.”

Aisha pushes back; she’s been spying on Dowling!  For Bloom!  And all she’s seen is how hard Dowling’s been trying to keep everyone safe.

Bloom says they lied about Rosalind being alive, lied about a war crime, “i get that you guys want to believe in them but they’re destructive maybe dangerous!”

Terra: “Bloom, listen to yourself, you literally sound like a crazy person.”

Aisha says they haven’t told the adults yet, but if Bloom tries to bust Beatrix out they will.

Bloom faces them like a cornered animal.  Her eyes flame up.  Terra and Aisha back away and Terra almost sobs, ‘We’re your friends, Bloom!”

Bloom stops and thinks.  Friendship music plays.  She gets the magic thingy out of her bag and gives it to Aisha.  But when Aisha starts, ‘I know how hard...” Bloom says, “You don’t.  None of you do.”

...why am I thinking about Higurashi right now?  Maybe because everyone’s spying, nobody’s reaching out to their friends for help… y’all gonna get the bad ending!  Hmmf.  I prefer Oyashiro-sama’s curse over the YA Plot curse we’re laboring under.  Characters I liked already died and as a father figure type Silva is likely next to meet a sticky end.  I’m ANNOYED with this show right now.

And back in the suite Stella is saying she “can’t believe everyone’s listening to Aisha like she knows anything” and that the suite has gone to shit without her.  And Stella’s been pushing plants over whenever she gets annoyed since she doesn’t want to appear.  “I have opinions.  If I can’t express them verbally, I’m not above poltergeisting.”  just like Riven, Stella makes me absolutely hate her one second and then says a line that makes me smile.  I dunno what to do with these two.  Marvelous actors both of them, for playing such two-ways-at-once characters and making it work!

Then Stella gets invisible again and Aisha and Terra come in.  They stopped Bloom but they think she’s losing her marbles.  Which, yep, seems so.  Aisha thinks they kinda need to tell Dowling, even though they said they wouldn’t.  A pot wobbles.  Musa decides to shut that down real quick and just tells the others Stella’s here, so as not to have to clean up any more broken pots!  Heh!

Stella appears.

Stella’s opinion: “Everyone in this suite is so damn black and white.  Bloom is a pain in the ass but she deserves to know who she is, not the stories the faculty is telling her.  We can worry about being right or we can help our friend.  Which is it?”

Friend since when, Stella?  Also, maybe protect your friend from being instrumental in the downfall of the school?

Dowling in her dark office.  She gets a text from Silva: five or six Burned Ones.  “Suit up, we’re going hunting.”

Sad music plays.  Dowling opens up a chest and reveals, I think, the olive colored costume her younger self wore in the flashback.

And in my head an alternate Dowling smiles as her heart picks up speed at the thought of getting back in the saddle.  The opposite of what we see on screen.

Then Bloom storms in, breaking this tragic headmistress moment.  Having lost the magic thingy, bloom goes for the direct approach and demands to see Rosalind.  Poor Dowling doesn’t have time for this, she’s got a Burned One hunt!  But Bloom busts out, “I’m from Aster Dell!  that’s where I was born, that’s where my birth parents lived, until you all destroyed it.”

Good direct approach, Bloom!  Except you only know that from #1 untrustworthy source Beatrix, remember!

Dowling, shocked and horrified, turns away.  It’s true.  But, “You think we did it on purpose?”

Bloom: ‘That’s what Beatrix said.  That Rosalind had a crisis of conscience and you did it anyways.”

Dowling: “Rosalind!  Still manipulating people after all these years.”  

Flashback to the five of them!  Rosalind was the most powerful fairy at Alfea, and Dowling’s mentor.  Feared but respected, never questioned.

We’re up on the high plains, I think the same place we saw Silva being grievously wounded in a flashback before.  Dowling, rosalind and Harvey are up on a high knoll above Aster Dell, too far away to get a good look at what’s happening in the town.

Rosalind taught them to combine their magic, something nobody had known was possible.  They call down lightning and yeah, basically nuke the town.  But!  Rosalind said she made sure the humans were evacuated and only Burned Ones were in there!  They didn’t question their commanding officer, and they didn’t know until they walked into town and saw the bodies.  Past dowling puts her hand to her mouth in horror.

Present Dowling has tears in her eyes.  ‘if Aster Dell is where you’re from… there are no words I can say to make right the damage I’ve caused you.”

But Bloom shakes her head slightly.  “Why would she do that?”

Dowling thinks it’s because Rosalind was a zealot who “Wanted every Burned One dead no matter the cost” and who lied because she knew her team wouldn’t have gone along with it if they knew there were civilians in the town.

Bloom demands, ‘What about me?  Why did she put me in the human world?” But Dowling doesn’t know.  Bloom again demands to see Rosalind, getting up in Dowling’s face.  I feel like Bloom is somewhat enjoying this revenge, being able to back Dowling into a corner and shut her up.

Dowling grabs Bloom’s shoulders and says, “Whatever she has to give you is not worth unleashing her into the world again.” and the thing I wish she’d said a few episodes ago, “I’ll help you get the answers you need.  You have my word.”

...and Bloom believed her and they all worked together and got the good ending!

But bad-ending music plays and Silva comes to get Dowling to come take down the Burned Ones and the look on Bloom’s face is definitely a gonna-get-the-bad-ending look.

In her cage Beatrix whimpers and cries out in pain as she tries to get the cuffs off her wrists.

In the stone circle Sky wakes up from his drugged slumber.

In gorgeous Ireland Bloom sits on a bench pondering her next choices. Musa and Terra come up and give her the magic key.  They don’t want to be more people who are hiding things from Bloom.  Aisha can’t quite get on board with breaking a murderer out, but Musa and Terra are up for it!  And so is Stella, who appears beside the bench. Smiles all round.  I love the bonding, but wish they could maybe be teaming up for something that’s not so obviously a bad idea.  Just because y’all the main characters who won’t die doesn’t mean OTHER characters can’t die!

The real Stella never learned invisibility because why should she want to hide her awesome clothes?  But for this Stella, it’s a pretty handy trick!

The adults are packing their gear for war into the black SUVs and heading out.  The sun is low so it must be evening.  It occurs to me though—I’ve been in England in May, many Mays ago, and it stays light until like nine at night because the UK is super-North.  Maybe the difference in day length is why I keep getting tripped up about what time it is.  

Sky has staggered back into the school where Riven finds him.  Sky is relieved to learn that Beatrix is still locked up, but they have bigger fish to fry.  Looks like the specialists are joining the hunt!

Bloom brings Beatrix the magic key and Beatrix frees herself!

It is definitely-night and definitely cold at the barrier where the three adults with half a dozen other soldiers stand just inside the barrier.  Dowling uses her magic to amplify the sounds of the forest—that’d be air fairy stuff, so Dowling is mind and air at least.  I wonder how usual it is for fairies to learn more than one element.

Sky and the specialists arrive, late, to the sound of snarling Burned Ones.  Aisha’s here too.  Silva says this is no time for extra credit, but Aisha isn’t looking for extra credit, ‘I’m here because you need to know what’s happening.”

In Dowling’s office Beatrix is planning to toss Dane through the trap just like she did with Callan!  

Then Stella appears behind her and shoves HER through!  Ha ha ha!  Beatrix goes down, lips blue, breathing out frost.  It must just be a freezing trap, nonlethal.  Not that I would mind terribly if Beatrix weren’t in season 2; she has some charming moments and Sadie is a top class evil actress, but let’s ditch the slutty villainess trope maybe?

Stella: “Break out the villain to get what Bloom wants, then trap her again.  Simple.  My ideas rock.”

The girls go down the tunnel.  Stella holds a ball of rainbow light above her hand.  

Terra’s feeling troubled about what they’re doing.  she’s always trusted her dad to lead her right, but ‘I don’t know if he’d lead me down here.”

Stella: “Even the best parents are doing what they think is best for us. At some point we have to take over for ourselves.”  Truth, Stella. I’m just questioning if this is the right point or not.  Then Stella plucks a bit of light from her light and sends it to float by Terra.  ‘By the way, that outfit...’   She smiles and Terra smiles back.

Then we jump to Bloom, having a destiny-ridden moment.  “Everything I’ve been looking for is right through that door.”

No Bloom, Rosalind is through that door and how do you know she’s going to tell you any more truth than anybody else?  But through the door she goes.

And there’s the glowy barrier with Rosalind inside.  She opens her eyes and uses mind magic to say, “Hello, Bloom.”

...y’all gonna get the bad ending.

#fate the winx saga #you get the bad ending

[jay-and-dean]

I don’t need you  Chapter 7 : Borderline Villains

Dean x reader

Summary : She’s a warrior, she’s a loner. Nothing can stop her, nothing ever had. She doesn’t need Dean, does she ?

This is a request by @magssteenkamp​ that I decided to turn to a serie, see the original request on the serie Masterlist.

Serie Warnings : Swearing (duh). Mention of death. Smut, probably all kind from rough to fluffy, I’ll precise in the chapters if there are specific warnings. Fluff. Angst of course.

Chapter warnings : Swearing. Angst. Implied smut. Fluff

Words : almost 3k

Note : I’ll try to stick to the 3k rule, like for Rescue You

I thank @roonyxx​ because I would never have made it without her. She kept me motivated when I was exhausted and discouraged. And for the calculations... 

If everything goes as planned, you’ll get one chapter every wednesday (Thanks to @magssteenkamp, I call it WednesJay, lol. Sorry okay, I shut up).

***Want to read more ? => MASTERLIST***

*** I don’t need you MASTERLIST***

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             7. BORDERLINE VILLAINS

 Reader's Pov

             My fingers hurts from gripping Dean's belt so hard, and my throat is sore from holding back screams.

           I'm panting, focused on him still inside of me, on his shaking sweaty palms under my spread thighs.

           I want him there forever...

           I fight against this thought with all my brain but the truth is I really want him right there for the rest of my life. And it's not my brain asking for this... Just being one with him, his lips on my neck, his arms holding me tight. Like nothing could happen to me, like everything was right for once.

           And his smell.

           The crush kid-me had on him evolved, despite my will to curb it. And I have to admit now that it's not just about the hero... But about the man. This is terrifying.

"Y/n" he whispers in my ear, like he was asking me to be with him and I close my eyes at his voice resonating in my core.

He's softening inside of me and, deep down, I want to cling to him. But I have to let him go... I can't take that risk.

           I look down, his scruff tickling me, and see the gun on the ground, sighing. When he puts a shy kiss on my collarbone, I finally find the strength to push him.

           I can't get attached to Dean.

           Because close is dangerous. Because he would be so disappointed if he could see me, stabbing humans in the chest, cutting throats like a serial killer. Bad men I'm killing... but still people.

           And Dean is not a man of one woman, I know that, I have read the books about his life a hundred times, studied him, I have seen him flirt without even realizing it during the hunts. Who could be enough for a man like that ? No one deserves Dean Winchester for them alone.

           I know myself. That's what a lot of lonely times does to a person, that's what being confronted to your limits does. I do know Y/n... And I know that give in to Dean would mean love.

           I can't do that. Not love. It would break me.

"Move" I say low.

He takes a deep breath and withdraws, his cum dripping from me like the world was telling me it was too late to not get my heart too close to fire.

           He puts me on my legs cautiously and searches my face, but I avoid his eyes, trying not to look too cold, but inaccessible in a way, to make him understand.

"That was really hot" I state, bending to reach my pants. "You're... really good at this" I try to compliment him.

"Good at this" he repeats, stern.

"Yeah" I whisper, feeling like I could  suddenly cry at the hint of hurt crossing his manly face.

"Good at this" he says again, like he was trying to digest my words, putting his cock back in his pants, and closing his belt harshly. "Can we talk ?"

"About what, Dean ?" I shrug, my armor getting thicker.

"About us" his green eyes hitching on me, he sighs.

"There is no 'us'. Don't..."

He nods, biting his lower lip, his eyebrows slightly raised.

"Yes..." he sighs.

Adjusting his flannel, he poses a second, still looking at me, and finally turns to leave.

 Dean's Pov

             I could kill her right now. I could...

           I rub my face on the parking, not wanting to go back to Sam and I's room right away. I don't want to face my brother and I don't want to see that stupid bedroom again.

           I just want to scream, and fucking kill her ! My anger is making my blood boil and I have to stop myself from running back to her room three times.

           Why do I even care ? She doesn't want me, she doesn't care. She's a good friend and an awesome hunter, it should be enough. The only one I can blame is me.

Talk about us.

Stupid !

How desperate do I sound now, huh ? What would I have said anyway ? It's not like we were going to, I don't know, date ? I can't have a relationship, and it was always fine like that. And Y/n... She's not like the others, she's not someone you can bring home to cuddle, she's not someone you can own or tame.

           Y/n is wild. And even if she was not...

She doesn't like you. Not because you have those... damn feelings !

"Stupid !" I groan, hitting the wheel of Baby with my foot.

           What do I do now ? What am I supposed to do ? I can't forget us, she lives with us... I can't seduce her, I can't have her, I can't let her break me. And when she decides to go, I won't hold her back.

           She will leave. She will.

           Maybe I just need to be a good friend. Stop whining and be a friend... I admire her, and I really like her being around, so I will just take that, and suffocate those unrequited feelings that are making me crazy.

           I have no right to be angry.

             I enter the room and avoid Sam's eyes when I go to the shower. I can feel his glare on me but I don't want questions, I don't want him to ask me if we "talked"... He called her a time bomb...

Well guess what Sammy, my heart just exploded.

 ***

             The victim is talking to Y/n, she saw her friend being hunted by a weird man with claws and sharp teeth... She is in shock and shaking. But somehow, Y/n makes her calmer, like magic ; and she does with a softness I wish I could seen in her eyes when she looks at me.

           But it is not going to happen, because she barely looks at me anyway since that evening three days ago.

           I can't help but wondering : Did I hurt her ? We were rough and wild. Or did I scare her ? How could I... She was the one holding a loaded gun to my head. No... She just regrets it.

           Simple and hurtful regret.

           Sam is staring at her like he was trying to understand how she can be so fierce, and so sweet. She just can, she just is. Both leather corset and Hocus Pocus t-shirt. She's a kid that grew up too fast, she built defenses no one can really understand, but her heart is still all new and shiny under it, too sensible behind the walls.

           Walking to us, she bites her lips anxiously and I can tell she's sincerely pained by the young girl grief.

"She said it was before midnight" she states. "She's absolutely sure. Sorry Sam, it doesn't match. Maybe we should just... take a little break ? You guys look exhausted. I say we go eat something, and we take turns to sleep. Sam you need a nap, I'll keep searching okay ?"

When I'm about to decline her offer, my brother sighs, and accepts, admitting he's so tired his head hurts.

"We've been hunting for months, I really think we need a serious break after this one. Dean you look like crap" he says and I chuckle.

"Thank you Sammy, always a pleasure."

             The room is silent, and I would appreciate the calm if my heart wasn't resonating so hard in my skull.

           Sam went to sleep a little, giving us a thousand orders, and Y/n wrote everything down, winking at me. I understood later that she just wanted him to be relaxed enough to sleep, so she made him think everything was going to be exactly like he wanted to while he was resting...

           She's focused on her screen, reading something with a light frown, now and then writing down something on a notebook she bought a few days ago. And it makes me think of all those notebooks she had.

"When did you start writing on notebooks ?" I break the silence, clearly surprising her.

"I... uhm" she hesitates a second, then dive her eyes deep inside mine. "I had no laptop when I was... when I had no home. So in my bag I could only fit a notebook... Later it kinda became I don't know, a habit ?" she chuckles lightly, almost OCD if you want my opinion."

"It is an awesome idea, my dad's journal saved my life more times that I can count" I smile shyly.

"Yeah... well" a sad look appears on her face. "Your dad's journal didn't burn. When I think I could have saved everything if it was a numeric file..."

"I'm sorry" I sigh, not knowing what else to say.

"It's life" she shrugs. "And I'm used to lose everything at once."

I swallow hard, her words hurting me right in the chest, getting up to get two beers and a few snacks. Handing one to her, I dare :

"How long ?"

She looks up at me before I sit again, closing the book in front of me to make her understand I really intend to talk now. She always thinks she has to be by herself, she doesn't, she has friends now, she has me, and if I can't be anything else than that, at least I'm going to be a good friend.

"What ?" she takes a sip of her fresh beer.

"How long did you stay alone in the street ?"

She freezes, looking down for a minute, playing with the label of her beer, like there was anything to be ashamed of. There isn't.

"After my parents died... When I was 12. I... I tried to get out of the city to join that aunt I heard of in Main, my father used to say she was a nice person. I had never seen her but I knew her name" As I listen, I sit back in my chair, giving her all my attention. "I didn't want to go to a children home, because I knew cops would interrogate me... and, well I also knew vampires controlled some cops."

The more she speaks, the more she looks like that beautiful woman that got up in the middle of the night in her apartment with her messy hair. She pushes some strands out of her face and takes a shaky breath, still not looking at me.

"But, yeah, the vampires were looking for me, and of course, everyone was. The daughter of the murdered couple had disappeared, my face was everywhere. That stupid picture of me sitting on the couch with my Nintendo..." she shakes her head like remembering that picture was making her uncomfortable. So I hid. It was... really pathetic, Dean, nothing was heroic about it."

She takes another sip of her beer, closing the zipper of her hoodie, like she subconsciously needed to hide.

"Time passed. People concluded I was dead, and my face disappeared from the streets. The first year I didn't have enough money to go to Main anyway... Why am I telling you all that ?" she sighs.

"Please, you know everything about me because of those books, just... tell me a little more" I almost plea, and she bites her lip.

"The next years, I just thought it was better for my aunt too, if I stayed dead. Thanks to the Supernatural books, I knew about hunters... It was a book, but has vampires existed for real, why not hunters ? It took me years to find signs of their existence. When Joe..." she swallows hard, holding back tears. "When Joe found me turning around the bar like a stray cat and offered me food, then that first job, I was eighteen. It saved me from the cold and the hunger. I couldn't work with alcohol but he trusted me to clean after he closed the bar. Hunters didn't ever acknowledge me. But at some point, I asked about you, you know..."

"Really ?" I raise my eyebrows, my own voice annoyingly interrupting her story.

"Yes... Th-they told me to forget about you, they said you were dead 'again' after fighting leviathans."

When I really thought talking about her parents death, or Joe's would be what crushes her, she wipes a tears saying that.

"Y/n" I say getting closer cautiously, my chair aware that this could make her close totally for good. "I... I came back."

But she doesn't close, her wet eyes finally come up to mine and search my face.

"You don't understand Dean. You were the... the hope. I used to hold on to those books and sleep with them against me like a bible" her voice breaks. "And the very second I learn my hero actually exist for real... they tell me you are dead."

I put my hand on hers, holding back tears ; my brain suddenly randomly realizing she's way younger than me, I never actually thought of it.

"It's..." I try but what to say after that ?

"That's when I understood if I needed a hero, I had to become one, and only count on myself."

I lower my head, my heart pounding in my chest, still convinced that any faux pas could make her shut me out completely.

"That's why you can't... grow attached to anyone..." I dare.

 Reader's Pov

             His hand is sending shivers in my spine, and his words hit me like a fucking train.

"Among other reasons, yes" I whisper, my emotions strangling me. "But yeah... Look what happened to Joe..."

I wish I could push him away, tell him to leave me... But the strength irradiating of him is wrapping me like reading books used to. I feel both safer and exposed...

"What reasons ?" he asks after a while, like he was weighting his words.

Dean is not someone that usually insists on talking, so I guess he really wants to understand something.

"Dean... Your brother is right... I'm a time bomb" I free my hand from his. "Not the fun kind. I... I get angry."

"I get angry too" he states, serious.

"Dean... listen. You said killing humans was the definition of monsters..." I swallow and take a deep breath. "Then I am just that."

"Me too... you and me... we're borderline villains" his index finds my chin and lifts it to make me look at his face.

I just can't get used to how beautiful he is.

"Sam did researches on you, Y/n... With help and a witch friend... he found some things, and a trail of human monster corpses in your wake... We watched who you killed and... I'm so sorry you had to face all of this so young... Who would I be if I told you that you should have bought them to justice ? Violence brings violence..."

My heart falls from my throat and I nod.

           He knew. I knew and he's telling me that he would have done the same... Suddenly, the high walls around my soul fall apart and I burst in tears.

           He quickly bends and wraps his arms around me tightly.

"I'm not in Purgatory... I'm not in books, I exist... I'm right here, Y/n. I'll stay here. I'm so sorry you were confronted with all that sick crap so young..."

I cling to him, hiding in his neck to cry, my hands fisting his flannel like my life depends on it. His palms are flat on my back, and it feels like he was holding me together.

           The door suddenly opens, and I slightly jump, but Dean puts a protective hand on my head and I know I have nothing to fear.

"We will be here in a few, Sammy" Dean says softly.

"N-no problem..." Sam stammers and clears his throat. "Rowena found something on the vampires but you take your time."

"Okay, thank you" my hero says, still holding me.

           The door closes and I let go for a second to wipe my face, afraid to soak his skin with tears.

"Y/n..." he catches my eyes.

And before I can see it coming, his soft plum lips slowly crushes on mine, my salty tears wetting both our lips.

           I close my eyes and forget with kisses are too important. Nothing is really important anymore. So I let him kiss me, his lips tasting mine shyly...

Too late for not falling in love.

________________________

***FEEDBACK IS GOLD***

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[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Love Her (Part 7)

Summary: The reader heads home to stay with Dean and the twins. Only some things have changed around there and the reader learns a little more about Dean’s past...

Masterlist

Pairing: Doctor!Dean x foster daughter!reader

Word Count: 3,700ish

Warnings: language, mentions of death

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“It looks the same,” you said when you got to Dean’s place around midnight after your concussion was cleared.

“It is. Your room’s the way you left it. We can unpack and pick you up whatever you need tomorrow. Let’s just let you get some rest for now. You sleep in and don’t worry about anything, okay?” he said.

“Sure,” you said. You followed him inside and found John and Mary on the couch watching TV. 

“Hey,” said Dean as he locked up the front door. “You guys mind staying the night?”

“No, not at all,” said Mary as she stood up. She walked over and gave you a hug. “Hi sweetie.”

“Hi,” you said.

“She home for good?” asked John as he joined you in the foyer, giving you an unexpected hug as well. You always thought he hadn’t liked you but obviously that had changed over the past few years.

“I’m her foster parent for the moment. She’s an adult so she gets a choice now of where and what she wants to do so she’s here as long as she wants,” said Dean. “It’s late though so let’s just all head to bed, alright?”

His parents nodded and turned off the TV, heading upstairs to the guest room as you went with Dean to your old room.

“I think there was a pair of your pajamas left in the laundry I never got to give back to you,” he said, going to the dresser. He pulled out a shirt and pair of shorts and handed them to you. “Your face okay? I can get you some of your pain medicine.”

“Dean. It’s okay. I’m okay. I’m just tired,” you said. He nodded and went to leave, turning around when you took a seat on the bed.

“If you need something-”

“I know, Dean. You always worry over everything,” you said. “Not that that’s bad.”

“I’ll see you in the morning then, sweetheart,” he said. 

“Night, Dean.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Guys, guys,” said Dean as the twins nearly knocked you over from another round of hugs as you put together your room the next day. “Y/N has a concussion. We have to be careful around her the next few weeks.”

“Sorry,” they both said when the door to the room opened. You saw a woman in sweats walk into the doorway, an angry look on her face quickly disappearing when she saw you.

“What happened to her?” she asked, immediately walking in. You took a step back, Dean chuckling. 

“I forgot to pick you up at the airport, didn’t I,” said Dean.

“Yeah. I figured you got excited with Y/N coming home,” she said. “Why does she look like she was in a fight?”

“Long story. She’s okay now,” said Dean, looking to you. “I suppose I forgot to mention it last night with all of the chaos going on. Y/N, this is Ana. She’s my fiance.”

“Fiance?” you asked, Dean giving you a smile.

“Twins, give us a minute?” asked Dean. They begrudgingly left the room as Ana walked over and gave you a hug you weren’t sure if you should return.

“Dean mentioned you might need some warming up to at first,” said Ana, giving you a smile.

“Fiance?” you asked again.

“Things weren’t...great after you left. Like...really not great. Sammy and my friends took me out one night to try and help but I wanted to just go home. I went outside the bar and saw this little redhead kicking some drunk guy that been bothering her’s ass. I tried to be a knight in shining armor and got an accidental hit to the nuts for it,” he said. “She felt sorry for me after that. She bought me a drink to apologize and we found out we had a lot in common.”

“I think I have you to thank for getting us together,” said Ana with a smile. “He mentioned that his oldest wanted him to try dating again.”

“Ana’s birth mother gave her up for adoption,” said Dean. “She spent some time in foster care and wound back up in it when she was a teenager. She’s a doctor over at the hospital.”

“Cool,” you said, giving her a nod. “Uh, I’m glad you decided to be happy again.”

“Well I figured the least I could do was try,” said Dean. “You always tried for me.”

“So you’re with us?” she asked, a smile in her voice. You glanced at Dean who smiled.

“Ana knows all about you. She’s been around awhile. She’s been waiting to meet you,” said Dean.

“I don’t know what I want to do yet,” you said. “Just right now, I want to be with the twins.”

“Of course,” she said. “Can I steal Dean for a second?”

You nodded and she grabbed his hand, pulling him out of the room. You bit your bottom lip and went back to putting away your clothes, sighing as you closed your eyes.

“Hi,” said Ana, poking her head back in the room. “I know this is probably weird for you. I get it, trust me. But I just wanted to say I’m really glad you’re finally home and if you ever want to talk about stuff, stuff that maybe Dean doesn’t understand, I’m always here.”

“Were you ever adopted?” you asked.

“Once. As a baby,” she said. “By a single mother. She was the person I consider my mom. She got sick and died when I was eight. I went back into the system and moved for a while before I found a foster home I could stick around in until I was too old. I know you’ll believe me when I say you know that Dean is different than most other people.”

“He could have fought back more about me getting moved,” you said.

“He could have. But the twins wouldn’t be here and they wouldn’t be together. You don’t know how many nights he lost sleep over that. He wanted to go and get you. He did. But from what I understand, you love Ryan and Rae more than anything and he had you take the hit so they would be okay. He said you’re strong and you could take it. I’m not saying it’s right but it’s what happened. I’m not going to try and be your mother either. You had a mom and I understand that. I’m not going to replace anyone. I just want you to know that he has been waiting for this for a very long time,” she said.

“Thanks,” you said quietly. 

“And there’s a surprise for you in the basement when you’re ready for it,” she said with a smile.

“Ana?” you asked, getting a hum from her. “The twins call you mom, don’t they.”

“They started to once we got engaged about six months ago,” she said. 

“They should have a mom,” you said.

“Y/N. You’re not an outsider here. Dean made it very clear to me that his kids will always come first, all three of them,” she said. “I’m here to talk is all.”

“Is he okay? Dean?” you asked.

“I think he finally is,” she said. “He was waiting around like a little boy for Christmas lately.”

“Do you think I should let him adopt me?”

“I think whatever you decide, whatever you call him, you’ll always have a father in Dean,” she said.

“I think I’m finally starting to understand that,” you said, grabbing your bracelet. “Even if he can be overbearing.”

“That’s not necessarily bad,” she said. “I’ll let you finish up in here.”

“Thanks, Ana,” you said as she left. Dean popped back in after a moment and helped you finish, not saying much aside from asking where you wanted things. “Dean.”

“Hm?”

“I like her,” you said.

“Me too,” he said. “She came into my life when I really needed her to. Oh and I called school, got you all registered. You don’t have to start tomorrow. You should stay home this week to recover from the concussion and decompress a bit.”

“Okay,” you said as you turned off the closet light. “I know you want an answer about the adoption thing but...I honestly don’t know right now, Dean. The stuff with my dad...”

“I don’t need a paper to tell me what you are to me. We never have to bring it up again so if you ever decide you want it, you tell me otherwise we’ll consider it put to rest, okay?” he asked.

“You’re okay with that?”

“You’re home with your family and you’re safe and no one can take you away. That’s all I wanted,” he said.

“Dean?” you said. “I’m sorry about what I said last night. I don’t hate you. You’re the only person since my mom that ever cared about me and the twins.”

“Apology accepted. I’m just happy you’re home,” he said, giving you a hug. “Now if you’re up for it, birthday girl, there’s a surprise for you.”

“I heard,” you said as you started to leave your room. You were nearly knocked off your feet again by Ryan and Rae, Dean sighing. “They missed me.”

“Come on!” said Ryan, pulling you downstairs to the basement.

“Slowly,” said Dean as you went with your brother, Rae right beside you as Dean followed you down. You saw a sheet covering a strange shape in the middle of the floor, Ana and Dean’s parents along with Sam already down there. “Go ahead.”

You walked over and pulled off the sheet, cocking your head for a moment.

“That is two years worth of birthday and Christmas presents,” said Dean. “I still hope you wanted those bath bombs.”

“Thank you. All of you,” you said, Ryan and Rae each grabbing hold of your legs. “Will you guys help me open this stuff?”

“Yeah,” they both said, not diving right into the presents like you were expecting them to. You sat down and they both gave you hugs, trying to climb in your lap and holding on tight. 

“Don’t go away again,” said Rae.

“Pretty please?” asked Ryan.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said, giving them a big squeezing hug. “I love you both so much. I’m not going away ever again.”

“I think she tuckered herself out today,” you heard Ana say as she and Dean watched a movie in the family room. You’d rested your head on his lap and shut your eyes after a bit of it, relaxing as he ran his hand over your head.

“She’s been through a lot. She went through so fucking much she didn’t deserve to,” said Dean.

“She’ll be okay. Look at her. She’s already cuddling with you,” she said.

“You girls are going to have to learn to share,” he teased. “She’s different than before.”

“Good different or bad different?” she asked.

“She reminds me of when I was her age,” said Dean gently, lightly brushing your cheek with his finger.

“The stuff with Sam?”

“I thought my dad was going to beat me to death,” said Dean.

“Your dad had anger problems,” she said.

“Still. That was the last straw,” said Dean. “I ran away I thought I was so horrible for my family.”

“Your dad never should have said those things to you,” said Ana.

“But was he wrong?”

“I would take a look at your daughter and say yeah, he was wrong,” she said.

“She doesn’t want me to be her father,” said Dean quietly. “I wouldn’t want me to my father. I could have let something slip to her in a letter or something. She’s a smart girl, she would have kept her mouth shut. But I was scared and I picked the twins over her. Again. I know logically it was the smartest move but she never gets picked first. Never. I want to pick her first for once in her life so fucking bad.”

“I think she knows that Dean. She’s not a child. She understands.”

“She hasn’t been a child since she was eleven years old,” said Dean. “Before that maybe. Who knows what kind of home she grew up in. I know her mother was kind and good and that’s probably why she is the way she is but a drunk sack of shit for a father? I have no idea if he ever hurt her, manipulated her, bossed her around or scared her. She might have been too young to even realize. I-”

“De,” she said softly. “Stop spinning your wheels, baby. You love her and I know I’m going to fall in love with her just like I did the twins. It won’t be all perfect in one day.”

“Even with all the shit that has ever happened to me, I always had someone I could fall back on, even if I didn’t know it,” he said.

“She’s got that,” said Ana. “You just remember to lean back on me too.”

“I almost didn’t call you after I got your number, you know,” he said. “Y/N had a bad night once and I told her about Joanna. For a split second I think she almost told me she didn’t want me to be alone.”

“She probably almost did. Keep being that safe place for her, Dean. I’ll try and be that for her too. God knows she needs it. She’s going to want to fall apart sometimes. She’s going to need to. She has to learn that when that happens, you don’t always have to be the one that puts yourself back together,” she said.

“You tell her you were married before?” asked Dean.

“No, not yet. Felt like my life was cursed for a while there,” she said. “I still think Dan and Jo are up there laughing their asses off at us.”

“Probably,” said Dean. “God, I can’t even keep track of how many times I asked Jo to keep an eye on Y/N, like she could have done something.”

“Maybe she did. Besides all the house and school swapping, this last house was the only bad one, right?” said Ana.

“Maybe. I just…” trailed off Dean. It got quiet and you swore you felt him shudder.

“How many times have I told you, Winchester?” she said.

“I know,” he breathed out. “I want to stop feeling so guilty.”

“I know, which is why I called Benny and you are taking the week off to stay home with Y/N. You two can talk or you can lay in bed and cry watching sad movies or whatever but you need rest too, De. You’ve been waiting two years for this. Take a few days,” she said.

“You’re not going to give me a choice, are you,” he said.

“What do you think?” she said.

“Fine,” he said, rubbing on your shoulder so you were forced to sit up and open your eyes. “Sorry sweetheart. You fell asleep. Why don’t you head to bed?”

“Okay. Night,” you said as you got up, wondering what the hell else had happened to Dean when he was younger.

“Good morning,” said Dean around nine the next morning when you walked out of your room. “I took the week off too if that’s cool.”

“Mhm,” you said, going to the kitchen and to the coffee machine, pouring yourself a cup.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’ve been drinking it for like a year,” you said.

“Fine but only a little,” he said as you carried a mug over to the couch where he was watching some morning talk show. You curled up next to him, Dean placing a careful arm over your shoulders. “You okay?”

“Kind of a redundant question given the circumstances,” you said, taking a sip of your coffee before Dean pulled it away and set it on the end table. 

“How’s your face feel?” he asked. “Or head?”

“Better,” you said.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked.

“A time machine,” you said.

“I could do with one of those too,” he said.

“I wish my mom had ran away with me and the twins,” you said.

“Me too, sweetheart,” he said. “It’s easy to look at just the negative side of things with stuff like that happens though. Try and think that the twins are still here and happy and they don’t even know about everything that happened.”

“I’m never telling them,” you said.

“I don’t plan on it either. Not until maybe someday when they’re adults if they get curious but even then I’d may lie to be honest,” he said. “I know the past few years haven’t been easy but try and think of the positives now.”

“What positives?” you asked.

“...I’m sure there were some,” he said. “Did you ever have a boyfriend at all? Or win any awards at school? You were so good at school.”

“Still undateable and friendless and it’s kind of hard to get involved in anything when you move every two months,” you said.

“I’ll be your friend,” he said.

“I’m pathetic. I’m not that pathetic, Dean,” you said. You closed your eyes and leaned forward. “I’m sorry. That was mean. You can be my friend.”

“It’s okay. I told you before, I’ll take whatever you throw my way,” he said. You sat back and tucked your knees into your chest, wrapping your arms around them. 

“I’m so tired of being alone, Dean,” you said, turning your head towards him. “Now I’m back and I can’t get myself to relax, even with the twins. It feels like they’re better off without me.”

“Every single day those two ask about you. Every day. Maybe you guys can set aside some time everyday to play or spend time together,” said Dean.

“Yeah, I think we’ll do that,” you said, resting your head on his shoulder. “I feel so clingy.”

“Cling all you want. Please. I want to cling too,” he said.

“Dean, I still don’t know if I ever want a dad again,” you said.

“That’s okay.”

“But can I still have a Dean?” you asked.

“Always,” he said, giving you a hug. “You can stay here forever if you want.”

“Maybe not forever,” you said with a smile. “But awhile.”

“At least a few years?” he asked.

“Yeah. I was thinking of online college, after high school,” you said. “That way I could work and do school.”

“You could. Maybe something part time though? You could commute to the university right next door if you wanted to,” he said. “Whatever you want to do, it’s your life, but I was thinking last night and maybe you might like to go there.”

“I can’t afford a private school,” you said.

“Yes you can. I’ll pay,” he said.

“Dean-”

“I’m a doctor. Ana is a doctor. I’d rather use the money on that than buying stuff we don’t need,” he said.

“I don’t want to think about that stuff right now,” you said.

“That’s fine, sweetheart,” he said. 

“Can you make me pancakes?” you asked quietly. 

“Of course,” he said, frowning when he looked at you and saw your wet eyes. “Sweetheart.”

He used his sleeve and wiped off your eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just missed you is all,” you said. “I didn’t even know how much until now.”

“You don’t have to miss me anymore. We can spend the whole week together, I promise.”

“Hey you two,” said Ana that night when she got home around nine. You were in Dean’s room watching a movie in his bed and eating ice cream after the kids had gone to sleep. “Sorry I’m late. Had to cover for Carl again.”

“S’okay,” said Dean. “You get dinner at the hospital?”

“Mhm,” she said. She popped in their bathroom for a few minutes before returning with wet hair and some pajamas on, crawling on top of the bed beside you. “How was your guys day?”

“Good. We had a lazy day at home before we grabbed the twins from school. We hung out at the park for a bit,” said Dean. You started to move towards the end of the bed and climb off, taking your ice cream with you. “Getting more?”

“No. I think I’m going to go bed,” you said.

“You don’t have to,” said Ana with a smile. “It’s a big bed.”

“I really should go to sleep,” you said. You left and walked out to the kitchen, finishing off your ice cream when Dean walked in. “What.”

“Ana would like to spend time with you too,” he said. You gave him a side glance and ate your last spoonful before you chucked the bowl in the sink. “You know I am not one to open up to people. She’s kind and she knows what you’ve gone through better than I do. You don’t have to leave the room when she comes in.”

“You’re adults. You want to spend alone time with your fiance I’m sure,” you said.

“Y/N. Everyone in this house is part of this family. All five of us. She doesn’t want anything more than to get to know you,” he said.

“...I’ll try,” you said quietly.

“That’s all I ever ask,” he said, taking your bowl back out. “More cookie dough?”

“Yeah,” you said.

“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll bring it right on in.”

_____

A/N: Read Part 8 here!

#spn #supernatural #dean x foster daughter!reader #au #series #dean winchester

[starlightbuck]

It took me far too long to decide, wow but I shall request #23 please!

23. Happening to sit next to each other on a park bench, reading the same book. 

you gotta read between the lines || read on AO3

“Here, take this.”

Eddie looks down at the book that May has thrust into his hands. The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin - he’s never heard of it. “What-”

“I overheard you telling Bobby that you want to read more so I figured I’d let you borrow one of my favorites.”

Eddie’s confusion gives way to understanding and is followed shortly thereafter by a burst of affection that he’s sure May would much rather he not put on display while surrounded by their family. And that’s what this, the 118, has become for him - a family. 

It’s something his parents swore up and down he’d never have after he told them about his decision to leave Texas. He might find better job opportunities, but he’d never find anything better than the family he was leaving behind. 

How wrong they were. 

“Thanks, May. I’m looking forward to reading it.” 

It’s a statement he means wholeheartedly. After a few months, Eddie has finally found a way to balance his work and home life, but he’s still lacking in any hobbies that he can call his own. Maybe that’s what reading can become for him - a moment of peace in his otherwise hectic day-to-day schedule.

May tilts her head to the side and stares at him for a moment before holding her hand out to him. “Give me your phone.”

He does as he’s told without asking, even if he doesn’t know what she’s planning to do. 

Her fingers move across his screen with a speed that Eddie finds a little intimidating. In no time at all, she hands him back his phone. “I put my number in so you can text me your thoughts on the book.”

Eddie shouldn’t make a big deal out of this exchange, but there’s a small part of him that wants to. He’s an adult, May’s a teenager, and she just willingly gave him her phone number.  And told him to text her. Does this make him cool now? 

He’ll consult Hen later to find out. 

“I can do that.”

Eddie starts the book while at work and regrets that decision immediately.

The first interruption comes from Bobby.

“Put that book down, Eddie. You’re helping me cook lunch.”

The next one is from Chim. 

“Hey, Eight-Pack! Help me clean the truck!” 

And then Hen.

“Eddie, please come and explain to Chim why I’m the superior video gamer.”

Then the alarm goes off and Eddie leaves the book behind in his locker. It remains untouched for the rest of his shift. 

Eddie (9:42pm): i’m not sure who i’d want to be paired up with if i was in this game

May (10:01pm): you JUST got to that part??

May (10:02pm): i’m disappointed

Eddie (10:07pm): i’ll try to read faster

May (10:15pm): good

“Daddy, what are you doing?” 

“Reading a book.” 

Chris takes a seat beside his dad on the sofa and leans heavily against Eddie’s arm. “I’m bored. Can we do something?”

“I thought you were having fun drawing,” Eddie answers, eyes still skimming the words on the page in front of him. He’s managed to make some leeway with the book and now that he’s gotten into it, it’s been harder for him to put it down. 

“I was but now I’m not. Please can we do something?”

“Chris.”

“I said please.”

Chris peers up at his dad from under golden eyelashes with a pout firmly in place. He’s only doing it to sway Eddie’s decision and not because he’s genuinely upset but that doesn’t stop the sight from tugging uncomfortably at Eddie’s chest. If there’s one thing that’s guaranteed to hurt Eddie, it’s his son’s unhappiness. The reaction can easily be traced back to not being around when Chris was growing up. 

That guilt that will haunt him forever. 

It’s what pushes him to mark the page he’s on before closing the book. “What do you think about having a movie night?”

Chris’s eyes light up at the suggestion. It’s the best thing Eddie’s seen all day. 

“Really?”

“Of course. How about you pick out a couple of movies and I’ll order us some pizza?”

Chris nods enthusiastically and is about to get up from the sofa when he stops. Eddie is going to ask what’s wrong, but the words get lodged in his throat when his son crawls into Eddie’s lap. He wraps his arms around his dad’s neck and plants a loud kiss on his cheek. 

“I love you, daddy.”

The show of affection is almost second nature for Chris, but Eddie knows a time will come when that stops being the case. It’s as depressing a thought as it is unavoidable. Chris will get older and doing things like cuddling with Eddie and randomly saying ‘I love you’ will become nothing more than a rare occurrence.

Until then, he plans to cherish every single one of these moments and then lock them away for safekeeping. 

Eddie wraps his arms around Chris, holding him as close as he can and kisses his son’s forehead. “I love you too.”

Eddie (5:45pm): ANOTHER bomb? How many are there?

May (8:32pm): keep reading and you’ll find out 

With Christopher at Abuela’s and no shifts scheduled for the day, Eddie decides to take advantage of the cool Sunday weather and go to the park to get some reading done. By the time he gets there, the park is bustling with energy from children and adults alike. It takes Eddie almost ten minutes to find an empty bench but it’s worth it when he settles into his spot. It’s far enough away from the playground that the sound of yelling is nothing but background noise and close enough to a tree that protects him from the sun in case it decides to peek out from behind the clouds. 

He leans back in the seat, stretching his legs out in front of him and crossing them at the ankles. Then he takes the book out of the bag he brought it in, always cautious of how he carries it since it’s a loaner, and dives in. 

Eddie’s eyes follow the words with anticipation, drinking in every sentence as he reads them, not wanting to miss a single detail. He’s nearing the end and is desperate to see how the author is planning to wrap everything up. He has a couple of guesses, but the only way to determine if they’re correct is to finish the book. 

“Excuse me?”

Eddie flips to the next page. 

A throat clears and then, “uhm, hello?”

Eddie barely refrains from growling at the intrusion. The point of coming to the park to read was being able to do so  without any interruptions. 

He is nothing if not polite though, a trait that he attributes to his abuela. His parents might’ve taught him how to behave himself, but it was Abuela who taught him how to go out into the world and greet people with a smile.

“Yes?” Eddie says, grin locking in place when he looks up and finds a man with bright blue eyes staring back at him with a hopeful smile of his own. The sun is only just making a home for itself in the sky and the glow from its rays reflects off of the man’s hair and gives him an angelic glow. It’s almost too much for Eddie to handle.

Almost.

“I was just wondering if I could sit with you?” He gestures to the small part of the bench that’s empty. It’s possible that Eddie spread his things out when he first sat down so that no one would be tempted to join him. “I’ve done two laps around the park, but there are no other open seats.” 

Eddie might’ve preemptively tried to keep strangers from intruding in his space, but he figures he can make an exception for this guy. That decision has nothing to do with how attractive he finds him and everything to do with the manners he picked up from Abuela. It’s what she would do as well, he’s sure.

“Yeah, of course.” 

He grabs his jacket and backpack and slides over to the left end of the bench instead of staying in the middle. The man sits on the opposite end. 

“I really appreciate this, thanks.”

The words have the potential to sound insincere or sarcastic, but coming from this man’s lips, they’re anything but. 

“You’re welcome.”

Eddie wants to say more, find a way to continue a conversation with this beautiful stranger, but he doesn’t know how. He’s very out of practice when it comes to conversing with anyone outside of his family. It’s not something that he thinks about until it inconveniences him, and this is definitely one of those times. It also acts as a reminder that he should try his hand at putting himself out there again. It might be scary, but he owes himself that much.

Next time. 

Next time he’ll be ready to actually engage in a conversation with someone who piques his interest. 

Until then, he’ll cut his losses for today and jump back into his book. Maybe if he finds the courage to do so, Eddie can sneak a couple of sideways glances at the guy. That’s not creepy, right? 

“Are you reading The Westing Game?”

The question catches Eddie off guard as he fumbles to hold up the book. “Yeah, I am.”

“Me too,” the blond says as he turns towards Eddie and pulls out a worn copy of the book out of his back pocket.

Eddie’s eyes are temporarily drawn to a red bookmark sticking out at the end of the book, before settling on the cover itself. The cover is different from his, but the title is the same. 

Eddie has no clue what the odds are of this happening, but he’s more thankful than ever to May. Not only has the book been the perfect option for him to turn to occupy his free time, it’s also acting as a way for him to continue talking to this guy. 

“How do you feel about it so far?”

It’s the perfect conversation starter and Eddie latches onto it right away. 

“I’m really enjoying it,” he begins before diving into a more in-depth explanation of his thoughts. 

He talks about everything from the characters to the storylines that took him by surprise to the theories he has for how the book will end. It all comes rushing out of him in a way that words usually don’t and he’s proud of himself up until the guy sitting across from him laughs.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, using his free hand to cover a smile. “I’m not laughing at you, I promise.”

Seeing as though there’s no one else around, it really  feels like Eddie is being laughed at. It picks and prods at a deep-seated sense of inadequacy that he’d really rather not be experiencing on his day off. 

“Was I rambling?” 

“No, it’s not that. It’s just, I never said how far into the book I was.”

Mortification seeps into Eddie’s veins in an instant, coursing through his body and making him warm all over. “I saw your bookmark placement and assumed...”

“I just put it in a random spot of the book so I wouldn’t forget it.”

“Oh.” 

This is what Eddie gets for assuming, isn’t it? How does that saying go again? When you make an assumption, you make an ass out of you and me?

It’s safe to say that he has definitely made an ass out of himself.

“So, I just spoiled the entire book for you?” The guy doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t have to. The answer is written all over his face. “Shit, I am  so sorry. You came here to enjoy your book and instead you got stuck next to an idiot who doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut.” 

“Hey, no it’s okay. Really. I liked hearing what your thoughts on the book are. Gives me a better idea of what I have in store for me when I start reading it myself.” 

The smile on the blond’s face makes it seem as though he’s not annoyed but Eddie’s not convinced. Had someone done the same thing to him, he would be less than impressed. It’s why he starts packing up his things to go, making sure to put his book away first. The guy has reserved the right to enjoy some quiet time without Eddie there to disturb him anymore.

“I still can’t believe I did that.” Eddie stands up, slings his backpack over his shoulder and twists the fabric of his jacket in his hands. He’ll finish his book at home. “I’ll leave you to it.” 

He gives an awkward wave and sets off in the direction of the car, all the while internally chastising himself for the foolish mistake.  

“Wait!” 

Eddie is tempted to ignore the command, but his still deeply ingrained army training makes it hard to do so. He stops walking and the guy is there, standing in front of him, only seconds later. He’s holding his book in his hands and Eddie tries not to cringe.

“You don’t have to leave.” Eddie is about to argue otherwise when the stranger adds, “I know you feel bad about the book. But what if you make it up to me another way instead?”

“And how would I do that?”

“You can take me out for coffee.”

Eddie can’t keep his jaw from falling open. Out of everything he was expecting the guy to say, this was the last thing he had in mind. “Huh?”

“Take me out for coffee,” he repeats, scratching the back of his neck. “Only if you want to.”

“I do,” Eddie answers, perhaps a little too quickly. “I’m Eddie by the way.”

“Buck.” It’s an odd name, but it’s something Eddie intends to comment on. “Now c’mon, that bench is big enough for the both of us and I know you’re dying to finish your book.” 

Eddie (3:42pm): met a cute guy at the park and accidentally spoiled the book for him

Eddie (3:43pm): and then he asked me out for coffee 

Eddie (3:43pm): also, i finished the book

May (5:02pm): we’re going out for lunch this weekend and you’re telling me everything (your thoughts about the book and this cute guy) 

Eddie (6:00pm): you got it

Eddie is half-asleep on the sofa when the front door opens. He shifts at the sound, body too heavy to move into a sitting position. 

“Eddie?”

“Hm?” 

Feet move carefully across the hardwood floor and then there’s a body sliding into the space right in front of Eddie’s. It’s a tight squeeze, but Eddie wouldn’t want it any other way.

“You didn’t have to wait up for me,” Buck murmurs, wrapping his arms around Eddie’s waist and kissing his forehead. 

Eddie melts into his boyfriend’s arms the way that he always does. Even after two years together, the novelty of being held by Buck has yet to wear off.

“I wanted to.”

Eddie nuzzles against Buck’s neck, drawing a small laugh out of the younger man. 

“Someone’s extra cuddly today.”

There was a time when a comment like that would’ve been enough to shame Eddie into pulling away and apologizing. This, being open with how much he craves affection, is something he’s worked hard towards since him and Buck officially became a couple though. Now that he’s allowed himself to have it, there’s no way he’s ever turning back. “I missed you.”

Another laugh. “I was only gone for a few hours.”

“A few hours too long.”

Buck starts running his hand up and down the length of Eddie’s back and that plus the silence around them lulls Eddie right back onto the verge of sleep. 

“I have a confession to make.”

“Mhm?”

“I lied to you.”

The words are like a bucket of cold water, effectively waking Eddie up. He presses his back against the couch, earning himself an inch or two of space away from Buck. He tilts his head up, sees the guilt in Buck’s eyes, and feels his breath hitch.

“About what?” Eddie asks, hating how his voice cracks.

He trusts Buck implicitly and knows he’d never do anything to hurt Eddie, but that can’t stop fear from making a home in his heart. 

Buck has to be able to feel how tense Eddie is but he stills his hand, keeping it pressed against Eddie’s back. It’s the anchor that grounds him, the only thing keeping him from running away from whatever it is Buck has to say like Eddie so desperately wants to.

“Remember that first day we met?”

Of course Eddie does. How can he forget the day that changed the course of his life forevermore? “Yes.” 

“And how you thought you spoiled The Westing Game for me?”

“Yes.” 

Years later, Eddie can still remember how mortified he was on that day when he realized what he had done. They’ve told the story many times whenever people ask them how they first met, and the story usually ends with a lot of laughter and Eddie hiding his face in his hands. 

“It’s maybe possible that I withheld the truth just a little that day.”

“Withheld it how?” 

Buck’s hand curls into a fist at Eddie’s back, a surefire sign that he’s nervous.

“You didn’t actually spoil it for me.”

Eddie must still be a little sleepy, that’s why Buck’s words don’t make sense. “What do you mean?”

“That wasn’t my first time reading The Westing Game.”

The admission takes a minute to register but, once it does, Eddie is left reeling. “Do you-does that-you mean I didn’t spoil it for you?” 

“Technically no.” 

“Technically?”

“That was my first time reading it in a couple of years, so I had forgotten a lot of the details you mentioned, but I did remember the way it ended.”

Eddie blames the late hour for his lack of filter and for saying what he does next.

“I want a divorce.”

Buck reels back like he’s been slapped and maybe, in a way, he has been. There’s hurt written in the lines of his face, but also understanding. It’s almost as if he was expecting this reaction. He opens his mouth to respond, to say what, Eddie isn’t sure. Because realization dawns on Buck and he says, “we’re not married.”

“Yeah I know.”

Buck uses the arm that is still slung over Eddie’s waist to do away with the small space between them and tuck Eddie against his chest. “You scared me for a second there.”

“You scared me too.”

“I’m sorry I lied.”

Eddie rests his hand right over Buck’s heart, feeling his accelerated heartbeat thrumming under his fingers. He closes his eyes again and lets it lull him back to sleep. “It’s fine. You can be the one to tell our family that you were so desperate to date me that you lied so you could ask me out.”

“I hate you.”

Eddie tilts his head up just enough to kiss Buck’s neck. “Love you too.” 

Eddie (1:02am): buck’s been lying to me this whole time 

May (10:02am): did he finally tell you about the westing game?

Eddie (10:55am): you knew??

May (11:02am): yeah he told me a year and a half ago

May (11:03am): i think it makes your meet cute even cuter

Eddie (12:02pm): i cannot believe this. deceived by my boyfriend and my pseudo-niece on the same day.

May (12:15pm): don’t be so dramatic

May (12:19pm): you, me, chris and maddie still going ring shopping this weekend?

May (12:20pm): i better not have interrogated your boyfriend about his taste in jewelry for nothing

Eddie (2:03pm): yeah, we’re still on for this weekend. I’ll see you then.

#buddie #buddie fic #911 fic #911 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buck x eddie #prompt fill #my writing #benjisvictor

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Daniel Michaelson: The Adoption

I meant to write the baking-cookies drabble from Danny’s adoption stuff came out instead! Whoops. No warnings for this, beyond it being pretty bittersweet  - takes place in the past, when Danny is five years old. 

I’ll tag the usual people - even though this isn’t really whump. But it’s background for Danny!

@finder-of-rings, @bleeding-demon-teeth, @spiffythespook, @special-spicy-chicken

“He’s small,” The woman says, looking down at him, and Danny tries to straighten his back and make himself as tall as he possibly can. His hair sticks up a lot, which he has to hope helps at least a little. “Why is he so small? The papers I looked at said he’s five years old, has been since July.”

“He was born premature,” The social worker says without looking up from her paperwork. 

She’d brought Danny a cheeseburger Happy Meal and he’d inhaled every single bite and licked all the salt off his fingers afterward, so happy to have enough food to feel full and not have to fight any of the other kids for a single bit of it. He was currently twisting back and forth the little arms of the plastic toy man that had been inside the box, making him fight an invisible bad guy that kept punching him but he couldn’t see it. 

The toy man was from some movie, but it wasn’t out were Miss Karla could buy it yet, so he didn’t really know anything about it. Fighting an invisible bad guy seemed like the right thing to do with him. 

Bam, Danny thought to himself, making a mean snarling face. Punch him, kick his head.

“He was born eight weeks early, according to medical records,” The social worker continues, giving a loose, casual shrug. “He spent three weeks in the NICU before he went to his first placement.” This social worker was a new one, way younger than the last social worker. She didn’t seem to like him very much, but actually Danny thought mostly she looked more tired than angry, so maybe she didn’t mind him like some of the others did. 

The woman sitting at the table leans over, her voice pitched low, probably thinking Danny can’t hear her. Little pitchers have big ears, they said all the time at Kindergarten. He didn’t know exactly what that meant, other than adults said it to shut each other up when he was in the room. “Were there drug issues? We specified that we were not interested in taking on a greater than average amount of obligation-”

“He’s not a dog, Mrs. Michaelson,” The social worker says, looking up with the barest hint of an edge to her voice, and Danny fights back the tiniest little smile. It’s kind of nice, having one who sticks up for him. Usually they don’t. “But I understand what you’re trying to say, or at least what I hope you’re trying to say. Please understand that your guidelines were taken into account by the agency you contracted when they contacted us. Daniel was premature due to pregnancy-related complications with the mother, that’s all.”

“Complications? Does that mean there’s a family history of serious health concerns? Did his mother die?” The woman’s fingers stopped tapping again, and Danny looks back at his toy, but some of the shine has gone out of having a new thing (and Danny doesn’t exactly have a lot of things just for him), because he knows the answer to that question.

She gave me up.

The social worker’s eyes go to him, and Danny ignores her, setting his jaw in an angry, pouting line, and the invisible bad guy punched his toy until he died. Then he lived and got back up, but the dead part was pretty satisfying. 

The social worker looks back at the pretty woman in the nice clothes and jewelry and sighs, a little sadly. “No, she didn’t. She chose to, um, to place him with state care.”

“Do you know why she chose to-”

“She was thirteen years old, Mrs. Michaelson,” The social worker says quietly, so quietly Danny almost misses it. Thirteen isn’t very old, he thinks. One of his foster brothers, Craig, is thirteen, and he’s not even in high school yet. Danny could count to thirteen easily and without even needing help when he was four years old, so he knows it can’t be a very high number. That makes him think. If he’s five years old and his real mother was thirteen years old, then thirteen plus five is… Danny counts on his fingers, trying to remember.

If it’s ten eleven twelve thirteen… then it’s fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen… eighteen.

That would make his real mom eighteen.

Danny sits back, proud of himself for doing the counting all in his head and on his fingers, without having to ask the grown-ups, who were still talking about him like he couldn’t hear them.

Most grown-ups did.

“You can understand,” His social worker was saying, “Why a thirteen-year-old might make such a choice with even the healthiest baby. The home life was... not ideal.”

“I can understand.” The woman’s mouth purses a little, like she has a bite of food in her mouth she doesn’t like. “Poor thing. But you’re sure he’s healthy?”

The social worker shrugs. “He could use more time out in the sun and probably someone who lets him play outside more often, but… he’s healthy enough. He measured between 6th and 13th percentile straight through from birth until now, and his growth is steady. Honestly, ma’am, with a decent enough food intake he’d probably grow faster and catch right up. But...” 

The social worker waves her hand around the house they’re sitting in, a vague gesture that means nothing to Danny - but the woman sitting at the table nods very seriously, and so Danny tries to look serious, too.

The woman raises an eyebrow and looks around the dining room. The large table has enough chairs for twelve people to sit, and Danny is unlucky number thirteen - the youngest - so he was used to sitting at the card table off in the corner, where he sat now, swinging his legs in the folding chair and making the toy man run across the table and dive-bomb towards the floor.

When he makes the little exploding sound, the woman sitting at the table - she has pretty brown skin and black hair, and funny honey-colored eyes - smiles at him, and he smiles right back at her. She has a really, really pretty smile - warm and nice.

His foster mother is nowhere to be seen - Miss Carla didn’t really like talking to his social worker anyway, and she had been furious to hear about the rich lady coming to look at Danny, which… Danny didn’t really get, since getting adopted was a good thing. 

Then again, Miss Carla didn’t exactly like him very much. Danny had a mouth, Miss Carla said all the time, and Danny would just grin at her with all his teeth inside that mouth. 

Then he called her whatever names the older boys had taught him, only he got in trouble because the words were different when the older boys said them, for some reason.

His social worker had told him this lady and her husband had chosen him straight away after seeing his photo, and so he had combed his own red hair this morning nice and careful (no one else ever did) and dressed in his absolute best clothing - his favorite blue T-shirt and his good brown pants, his Sunday pants.

He wasn’t sure if the lady at the table had noticed, but he was sort of hoping so. 

“How are his academics?” The lady at the table asks, glancing over at him again. He smiles brightly at her, trying to get her to smile again - he’s pretty sure she likes him. He’s little, and he’d heard Miss Carla say that little kids get adopted faster. 

His biggest foster brothers probably won’t, he thinks, if that’s true. They’re both big and mean, and they look older than they really are. Parents won’t want them, even if Miss Carla likes them the best because they act like her.

“I’m in kindergarten,” Danny speaks up, holding the little toy man in his hands, nervously twisting at his arms again. His voice is high and clear, and he swings his legs a little harder where he sits. “I have lots of good days on my take-home sheets. More good than bad, Miss Carla says.”

“That’s right, Daniel, you do,” His social worker replies, and she smiles at him, finally - a thin and tired smile - as she flips through the paperwork she brought with her in a big folder with his name on it and his photo paperclipped to the outside. “Daniel’s in his first year at public school,” She says to the lady at the table. “He’s in a class of 25-”

“My God.” The woman at the table puts a hand up to her chest. “We’re looking at an exclusive Montessori for our little boy with an average class size of eight - I showed you his photo, the three-year-old. Obviously Daniel would also attend, I’ve already ensured him a spot should we bring him home, I’m good friends with the director. I just cannot imagine attempting to corral so many five year olds-”

“Most of them are already six, actually - Daniel is the third-youngest in his class. In any case, based on his school reports, he excels at academics and struggles with focus, sitting still, and social interactions. Makes sense for the age and his current… ah, situation.” The social worker looks at him again, and Danny sits himself up just a little straighter, making the toy man wave his little movable arm at her. 

The smile this time is less tired, and more real.

“Does he do well with younger children?” The woman at the table asks. “I mentioned our other son - he’s just turning three. Any aggression would be absolutely unacceptable-”

“He loves younger children actually - his last placement was with a foster home that had very young babies and toddlers other than him, about a year ago for three months, and his foster parents reported that he was very gentle and loving with the younger children. I’ve been told he changed diapers, watched the younger ones, and was very good at comforting younger children at night.”

Well, Danny thinks to himself, nobody else woke up as fast as I did, so...

“Ryan doesn’t wear diapers any longer, so we’re not worried about that, but… why was he moved, if he was so good with them?” 

Danny looked down at the floor, because he knew the answer to this question, too.

Because she was growing a new baby and there wasn’t any room anymore.

“His previous foster mother became pregnant,” The social worker says brusquely, waving one hand in a dismissive way. “All the foster children in that home were moved to new placements at the couples’ request.”

“That must have been hard on the children,” The lady says, and her voice changes a little. It’s softer, but angrier at the same time. “They must have bonded. The young ones bond so quickly-”

The social worker shrugs. “It’s not uncommon. Daniel had some… difficulty adjusting here, but he’s doing well now.”

“Difficulty?” 

“It’s all in the paperwork,” The social worker replies, looking uneasily over at Danny again, who only stares back at her with his best totally-blank ‘I wasn’t listening’ face, even though he absolutely was. “He had conflicts with his new foster brothers, missed the little ones. Struggled with the change in schedules and rules. That happens with every new move, learning a whole new household.”

“So… when he moved, he doesn’t see the other children any longer?”

The social worker blinks, surprised by this line of questioning. “Ah, no. He has no further contact with them, that would be… incredibly difficult to put together, considering he’s not related to any of the other foster children. It really isn’t an uncommon situation, kids in the system tend to adapt really quickly to the loss of foster siblings.”

The lady at the table’s mouth thins, just a little. Danny watches, fascinated, at the way her honey eyes shift, and for a second he sees them flash a really pretty purple. Then the color was gone, before he even blinked.

The social worker isn’t looking up, and didn’t see it, and honestly maybe Danny just made it up. He did that sometimes. 

“If we come to a decision in favor of bringing him home,” The lady at the table says, her voice firm and warm and calm, “It should be with the understanding that it will be permanent. I dislike the idea of such a young child being moved around so often, that cannot be healthy.”

“It’s not, Mrs. Michaelson, but that’s the system we work with.” The social worker sighs. “Daniel, will you come over here for a second? Mrs. Michaelson wants to speak with you.”

Mrs. Michaelson hadn’t said any such thing, but Danny shrugs and nods, hopping off the chair to walk over to her, tilting his head and looking up and up and up at her pretty eyes. No purple at all. 

“Hi,” He says, politely. “You can just say Danny. I don’t really like Daniel.”

The woman - Mrs. Michaelson - nods, slowly, thoughtfully, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth. “He really is exactly what we had in mind when we began discussing bringing a child home for-... to be a sibling for Ryan,” Mrs. Michaelson says, her voice softer and more gentle now that he stood right there with her. She turns her eyes back to Danny and leans down to get a little closer to him. “I have a little boy named Ryan at my house. Do you think you could be nice to him?”

“Oh, sure,” Danny replies, nodding, because that’s what he’s supposed to say. And he really does like the littler kids - he’s small and littler kids don’t pick on him like all the big kids do. “I always think it’s fun to play big brother. Is your house very big? Would I share with him?”

“Share?” Mrs. Michaelson cocked her head, and it was like Miss Carla’s cockatoo in its cage, and Danny giggled a little. She smiled at the sound. “Oh, like a bedroom? No, darling, you would have your own room, of course you would.” 

“Then I think I could be a good big brother,” Danny says, with a grave and thoughtful voice he thought sounded very grown-up. He was rewarded with another smile. Mrs. Michaelson looks him over one more time, taking in his skinny arms and the freckles scattered across his face and the rest of him darkened by the time he spent just sitting outside in the sun. 

“He really does fit the profile we were hoping for exactly,” Mrs. Michaelson says, but her voice is very quiet and she seems to be talking more to herself than Danny or even the social worker. “They’re looking for Ryan, but that hair, those freckles… that’s what they think they need to look for, isn’t it? They think we’ re meant to be Irish, but oh no, we’ll fool them, won’t we? We always have...” 

“Huh?” Danny cocks his head right back at her, and she laughs, a brilliant, sparkling sound that he loves already.

“I’m sorry, what?” The social worker asks, looking up.

“Oh, nothing,” Mrs. Michaelson says breezily. “Just muttering to myself. I don’t need to speak with Patrick about this, I’ve already decided. We’ll move forward with the adoption immediately.” The social worker smiles, and the two women begin to speak in low tones, throwing words and terms and stuff back and forth Danny hadn’t heard before and doesn’t know. He steps a little closer, and a little closer still.

Danny blinks.

He blinks again. 

“The what?”

The two women turn to look down at him.

“Oh,” The social worker says, surprised. “Daniel. Mrs. Michaelson would like to consider adopting you. Would you like to go stay with her and see how it works out?”

“Go stay? For real?” Danny’s heart starts to beat fast inside of him, like when he stands up in front of music class to sing. He smiles, and he clutches onto the little toy man as tightly as he can. “For really real?”

Mrs. Michaelson laughs again, and he hopes she will laugh like that for him a lot when he goes to her house. “For really real,” She says with a nod, and leans over to tap the end of his nose with one finger.

“I, I, I’ll go get my things! I don’t have a lot of things, but I do have, I have a little dog I carry around his name is, um, his name is Scruff and he has a collar but I can get him and I have some clothes-” Danny starts to turn, only for both women to laugh.

He stops and looks back at them, suddenly embarrassed, his face burning bright red under his freckles, feeling his lower lip stick out all on its own. Miss Carla is always telling him to pout less, but he can’t stop, it’s not his fault, the lip just does that. 

“Oh,” He says, and feels a wave of hurt and mad. “Oh, it was a joke. I thought you meant for really real.”

The social worker is the first to understand, and her expression goes serious and thoughtful. “Daniel, we’re not laughing because it was a joke. It’s not, Mrs. Michaelson really does want to bring you home to meet her little boy.”

“I do,” Mrs. Michaelson says. “As soon as I can. We were only laughing because you were so excited - and it can’t happen right away, it takes a little while. The agency has already put everything in motion, of course,” She says sidelong to the social worker. “It’s just a matter of getting all the right papers to the right people.”

“Of course.”

“Then we’ll take you home, Daniel,” Mrs. Michaelson says to him, and bops him on the nose again. He hates when his foster brothers do this - they always flick the end of his nose and make it hurt - but he kind of likes it, from her. 

“Yeah? Not a joke?” Danny’s head goes back up, and he searches both of their faces for signs it’s still just a mean joke, like when Conrad apologizes and then smacks his head again and he didn’t mean the apology at all. “For really really real?”

“Not a joke,” Mrs. Michaelson says, and there’s a sweet little smile on her face as she puts her hand out, littlest finger crooked. “Pinkie swear.”

Danny puts his hand up, too, and he hopes that she understands how much it really means when you say you pinkie swear a thing, because that means you have to do it.

“For really really really really real,” He says, seriously. “You have to mean it or you shouldn’t say it.”

“I mean it,” Mrs. Michaelson says softly. “I really, really mean it. Don’t worry, Danny. I’m going to bring you home to stay with us, and you’ll be just like another son. My little boy Ryan is going to love you. He’s always asking for a brother.”

“Are you going to love me?”

The question startles the two women, who blink down at him in unison.

Then Mrs. Michaelson leans over to tuck a curly bit of bright red hair behind one ear, and smile. “I’m sure I will.”

#Daniel Michaelson's story #not whump #but from a whump story #tiny child danny #corrine michaelson is a bad mom #but he really thought she'd be a great one #poor guy #whump #fiction #daniel michaelson is a tall smol bean #but he used to be a very tiny one #tw: depictions of less than ideal foster care

[mayaswollman]

TITLE: the plain woman. TRIGGER WARNINGS: abuse, domestic abuse, violence, injury, parental abuse, depression, and brief stalking.

Therapy was an exhausting crusade. It mainly consisted of Maya sitting inside a dusty old room with her sweet but cynical therapist. The room is filled with comfortable enough looking furniture and the lighting is a dim yellow-golden hue. Despite it being perfectly mediocre and not bad in the slightest, it makes Maya unreasonably angry. Though she knows it’s better to go than lie awake wishing she did. That sentiment might relate to almost everything in her life.

Maybe she should have known then. Maybe she should have known to trust her gut. Or maybe she should have known when she lost her charm bracelet.

The plain woman. The categorization falls into Maya’s lap, something she complains about often while spewing away in her therapy sessions. Most times, her words escape her, especially since she was still a tad new to the whole therapy thing. The plain, average woman. 

Do you feel special? Is what her therapist had asked originally, and Maya just exploded like a dying star. It resulted in tears and snot, excessive apologizing for said tears and snot, and bittersweet laughter to save face and not make a total fool of herself. 

Really, she was nothing special. Though perhaps that was a stupid insecurity. Never being the one but being a one regardless. That was truly something, a surefire way of making her feel more than terrible. Never the one, but one regardless. Maya says that too, her voice wavering like she has something crawling up her small throat, threatening to hop right from her mouth.

That’s how the session ends, Maya leaving with nothing but a relatively stable, reassured mind and a bucket of her own salty tears and gooey snot. It doesn’t help that she steps out into sticky, still air. Louisiana heat coming faster than she’d like. She looks to her wrist where she should be wearing a watch, like normal people, and thinks of what the might could be. Maybe past seven, but not before six. She drags her feet to her car, head low, dark curls falling in her face. 

Wrist.

The drive home is lackluster and nothing to report. So is stepping into her apartment. Though the cool air that hits her was a nice welcome, Maya inhaling deeply upon arrival, happy to just be home. She thinks to make herself something to eat before her phone buzzes, a notification popping up onto her screen.

If there was anything anyone needed to know about Maya Wollman, it was that she was a lazy person with commitment issues. Communication was certainly not where she shined, hence why most of her relationships were fickle ticking time bombs. It was only a matter of time before Maya became bored and over the whole idea of being someone else’s, despite growing lonely only days later. She’ll never reach out again, though, in fear of seeming desperate or ridiculous altogether. This cycle repeats itself more often than not. 

There’s this one guy who’s been kinda persistent, though. Nice looking, full beard, not huge but bulkier than most. He has the kind of face that’s neither plain or remarkable, somewhere in the middle. Maya would honestly put herself under that category too, so to her, he was just fine. In modern terms, you could say she ghosted him quite a while ago, unable to commit to anything but food and her work schedule. 

They went on one date. Maya doesn’t think of it very much, but he seems to think of it frequently. She likes to think they’re just casual friends now who went on one Tinder date that didn’t work out, really, and they text sometimes to say hello or for a brief chat. That was it. 

Truth be told, Maya likes being thought about. Remember that feeling of not wanting to seem desperate? Well here was the cold truth, she was. Desperate by all the means within her. Desperate for something, anything. Maya absentmindedly clicks through her phone before she gets to her text messages, reading the ones he’s sent. Her read receipts weren’t turned on, of course. Nobody with commitment issues had them turned on.

iMessage, 7:33PM, Matthew: Hey, was thinking about you. I saw you at The Dive recently with some friends and thought to say hi but didn’t. Hope you’re well! iMessage, 7:33PM, Matthew: Also, I think I have your bracelet? I found it on the ground at the bar and noticed it looked familiar. iMessage, 7:34PM, Matthew: [image:attatched].

Oh, fuck. Her charm bracelet, gifted from her grandparents when she was three or four. Maya’s hopeless romanticism kicks into high gear then as she sets down her bags and heads for her tiny living room. She plops down onto her couch, hands a little shaky, reading over the messages over and over. Then she looks to the photo. It’s definitely her bracelet staring back at her, the one real piece of jewelry she owns that she somehow lost at The Dive not too long ago.

The plain woman.

The thought, or insecurity, returns in no time. Are you going to be just one forever? Maybe he’s the one. Maya starts typing out a message, knowing there’s no going back now. 

iMessage, 7:40PM, Maya: Hey! You should have said hello! I can’t believe you somehow found my bracelet. I thought it was gone forever or a pack of angry criminals came and snuck it from my wrist, never to be seen again. iMessage, 7:40PM, Maya: Do you wanna meet up? Just to catch up and so I can get my bracelet back lol.

The exchange is simple. They text for a little while longer before deciding when and where to meet. Maya feels a little giddy inside, beginning to picture every scenario. She thinks from now to ten years from now, daydreaming endlessly about what could come of the two of them. A childish thing, really, and she knows it. But perhaps her loneliness had become futile.

ONE DAY LATER.

When it comes time for Maya to finally meet up with Matthew, her nerves finally bubble to the surface. She doesn’t even know how long she’s paced around her tiny apartment, going over every which way this could go wrong or right. It’s a game of back and forth inside her mind, every image flashing vividly and at a rapid pace. 

In classic Maya fashion, she gets ready with about two hours to spare. That was never a good thing, causing in the exploding of her own thoughts. By some miracle, the two hours go by and Maya is leaving her apartment, locking the door behind her securely. No going back now.

CALLIOPE, 8PM.

“Hi, sorry I’m late,” Maya says upon arrival, though she’s not actually late. Matthew had just shown up first. That’s never happened to her before. “Oh, you’re not late at all. Sit, they should be bringing the menus around now.” Matthew so politely pulls out her seat, which makes Maya’s entire face heat up, a reddened hue decorating her expression. She carefully takes a seat, smoothing the end of her dress. “Thank you,” She says quietly to the gesture, then smiling warmly to the waiter who places their menus down. 

It’s like a scene from a movie, really, how the evening pans out. They spent the night laughing and sharing stories, Maya finally settling into herself once she begins to feel comfortable. That was always when Maya shined. That was when she finally shed that outer layer she always sported, the one that dared to deem her an average woman. Maya Wollman was not plain or average, she was bright. She was funny and sweet and everything wonderful. Matthew seemed to like her too, head resting in his hands endearingly every time she went on about some silly little story from her youth. He laughs at all her jokes and even reaches out for her hand towards the end of the date, the pads of his fingers dancing across the tanned skin of her wrist. 

Wrist. Hand.

Touch was a strange thing in Maya’s world.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Matthew says, his touch pulling from Maya. She misses it the moment it’s gone though feels strange once it’s there. She touches her arm while Matthew plucks her charm bracelet from his pocket, sliding it to her. “Fuck, thank you so much. This is the only real piece of jewelry I own, so, I really appreciate this.” Maya’s tone returns to that middle ground, that nervous place that fears so much and so little at the same time. Matthew doesn’t seem to mind it, his smile still present, that same endearing look on his face. Maya tries to relax again. “No worries, sweetheart.” He says, brown eyes glued to her.

Maybe Maya should have known that things like this don’t really stick. Maybe she should have known when she got a phone call after an exhausting therapy session, one where she was vulnerable and unable to feel good about herself. But the night takes a quiet turn somewhere towards the end.

They’re walking out, Maya happy and at ease. Matthew is at her side, saying they should head to a bar and continue the night. Maya is more than happy to do this, despite being someone who prefers to call it a night rather early. Mainly from her own personal tiredness.

Maybe she should have known when he’s grabbing her a little too tight. Or maybe she should have known when he makes some crude remark about a guy across the way getting a look at her. It was just a small glance. I’m with you right now. Is what she said to reassure him, smiling sweetly. That giddiness seems to have fallen from his face like he’s flipped a switch. Though it returns in small ways, a little flicker of hope, and Maya clutches onto that hope like it’s her last chance at survival. 

Or maybe she should have known after the second date when he’s showing up at her job on a whim, asking her to take some time off and go away with him to New Orleans. Maya chuckles and says no. Sure, she was beginning to like him a lot, but not enough to go on some spur of the moment getaway. He seems upset by this, his jaw clenching. Maya sees a small vein bulge in his forehead as if he’s holding his breath. 

“Next time, I promise,” Maya says gently, resting a hand on his chest. She didn’t want him to be upset, despite her own discomfort. Matthew grabs at her arm, maybe a little too hard. But Maya was a small woman with petite features and he was much bigger than her. He just didn’t know his own strength. 

Wrist. Hand. Arm.

But maybe she should have known when he picks her up from a therapy appointment, pressing her about what she talked about. Maya isn’t comfortable with this, he tries to joke about it, wanting to know if she talked about him. She didn’t, which makes her feel guilty. Though she tells him no, not wanting to lie, and he becomes upset. Angry, even. Maya is confused, asking him why he’s so mad. They’re sitting in his car when he pulls his hand up and smacks her across the face, the sound and impact earning a ringing to erupt in Maya’s ears.

Wrist. Hand. Arm. Face.

Maya has been hit before. By her parents, by her siblings. But not like this. Never like this. Suddenly she’s back in her parents’ home, thinking back to every moment they’ve hurt her both physically and mentally. But then Matthew’s voice breaks through the noise. Or, his voice drills through it aggressively, tears running down his nice but not spectacular face. 

“Maya,” He cries, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just want to be a part of your life. I really, really like you. Maya, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Maybe Maya was a little weak. But was weak the word?

She forgives him. She cries along with him and they drive back to her place, a reddened spot on Maya’s face. It was going to bruise, she knows it. He probably does too. She stares at it in the mirror when she gets home, the smell of chicken and rice coming from the kitchen, Matthew was cooking for them. 

Maya had never tolerated violence from her parents? Despite always going back to them, she always fought back. What was so different now? She couldn’t quite figure that out but everything inside her turns to spoiled milk, her heart a paperweight inside her chest. Everything is warped.

It happens again while they’re out on another date. This might have been their tenth or eleventh, Maya was losing track. She was having a great time until Maya says she wants to get home, she had work in the morning. Matthew grabs her wrist a little too hard, this time causing a bruise. He says he wants to stay out and he wants to spend time with her. Apparently, he hasn’t seen her enough this week. 

Her charm bracelet dangles on her wrist, a reminder of the good deed he’s done. His grip leaves a bruise just under the jewelry. He lets go of her soon enough, spewing his apologies again, cooing to her. He missed her. This time, he says he might be falling for her. That sends a sudden signal through Maya’s mind. Was she the one?

She complies, smiling warmly. Her bracelet still dangles on her wrist.

Wrist. Hand. Arm. Face. Wrist. Wrist. Wrist. Wrist. Body. Heart.

#drabble. #character study. #tw abuse #tw violence #tw injury #tw domestic abuse #tw depression #tw paternal abuse #WELL....YEAH

[thefirelordandtheambassador]

close your eyes and i’ll close mine

Zutara Week 2020 Submission (“reunion”)

Rating: T for Teens 

Length: 3,186 words @zutaraweek Cross-posted on AO3 under one work titled “all that i hoped would change within me stayed (god only knows which of them i'll become)”  “Get off my shit, rabbit-squirrel-brains!” Toph hollers, and Katara whips around, away from the rapidly approaching horizon, away from the lure of the sea. She watches, non-plussed, as Toph dive-bombs a young soldier, who has tried to move some luggage to a more convenient spot on the boat. Ember Island, well, it doesn’t loom, but it approaches like a nervous servant--Katara will never get used to the servants that seem to appear like mist or ghosts, at the Earth Kingdom Palace, at General Iroh’s apartments in Ba Sing Se, at Toph’s parents’ house when she visited last year with her-- “for moral support and elbow-holding.”

“I’m sorry, miss! I just have to move things!” Katara bites at her lips, trying desperately to hide a snicker. Toph is wrestling him to the deck, clearly attempting to keep him away from her bag.

“I see you, mocking that poor boy,” jibes a soft, smoky voice to her side. She looks up--it’s Zuko.

“Not going play referee?” asks Sokka, following up behind him.

“Mmm, not today,” Katara muses, tossing her hair into the breeze. It is nice to be back on the ocean. She’s spent the last six months in a border town of the Si Wong Desert, negotiating with the sand-benders. Before that, she was in Ba Sing Se on official ambassadorial duties for the Southern Water Tribe for about a year, and then before that, she’d been providing aid for some of the rural interior Earth Kingdom towns for something like eighteen months. Most eighteen-year-olds she knows are either in school, or married with a kid on the way, but she’s single and doing the heavy diplomatic and charitable work of a woman twice her age.

“Oh, look, she’s going easy on him,” Zuko notes drily, as Toph shoves the poor kid into a door. “He’ll get off with just a concussion, instead of a broken arm like the last guy.”

The past few years have been good to Zuko--it’s been almost three years since she’s had a chance to visit. He’ll be twenty tomorrow, and he’s grown. Really grown. He’s easily over six feet tall, and his hair is so long now that what isn’t caught up in his topknot rolls over his shoulder. He has one of those formal shoulder pieces on that Katara desperately hopes will go out of style soon, but it doesn’t do much to the chest that has already grown broader and more muscular. And he was no lanky twig like Sokka during the war, either, she muses.

“Well, someone’s gotta get those boys in shape--she’s taken to teaching a little too well, in her old age,” Katara snarks back, smiling. Zuko smiles back, golden eyes softening. His face has thinned out too, cheekbones standing out elegantly, even under the scar. He looks real good.

“Well, at least you got out of being such a turbulent sixteen-year-old; can’t say I wasn’t beating people up at her age. So, uh, how are you and Aang, ah, doing these days?” There’s the awkward turtle-duck, out and about for a toddle around the pond.

Sokka barks a laugh, walks away, throws an arm around Toph.

She smiles ruefully, “You know, we’re taking a break. I think we both need it; we’re apart so often, you know? He’s flying here from the Western Air Temple and will meet us at the summer house. It’ll be good to see him again. It’s good to see all of you again, really. Ambassadorial life is pretty lonely.”

“Meanwhile, I feel like I can never get a moment alone these days. Always papers to sign, emissaries to greet, Fire Sages up my ass about everything. I’m glad you all could come to celebrate. I thought a little reunion would be nice. I’m just missing Uncle,” he says with a sigh. They turn, and lean against the railing.

“He misses you too--I stayed at his apartments in Ba Sing Se over the New Year. It was good to see a familiar face,” she says. The breeze whips around them, and Katara’s nose is overwhelmed with the smell of amber musk, something roast-y, and rich sandalwood. “Are...are you wearing cologne?!”

Zuko pinks.

“The Earth Kingdom ambassador got it for me for a birthday gift! She said it was indispensable for any young nobleman! Is it too much?” She softens. It is good to be back with friends--with him.

“No, no,” she says, and sticks her nose onto his sleeve, “I like it. It smells nice on you.” Underneath the cologne, she gets that warm man-smell. She misses that smell, from time to time, if she’s being honest with herself.

“Oh good. He said to go easy on it. Um, Katara?”

“Oh, sorry!” She’s lingered too long. But looking up into his eyes, they are still molten and soft. It’s her turn to pink, and she looks back to the sea. They are close to the docks. “I guess I’m just a little tired. I am so ready for this mini-vacation.”

“You deserve it. Uncle says you do the work of a woman twice your age.”

The beach house is just as she remembers it, but somehow, fuller, livelier. Zuko’s stocked it with paintings of the whole team, plants with bright summer blooms heavy with scent, curios from his travels. There’s only two servants, blessedly, a cook and a maid who greet them at the door.

“It looks nice in here! So bright and happy!” cheers Suki. “It was kinda sad when we stayed here last time.”

“Thanks. Uncle’s sent me enough tea and teapots to fill a whole bookshelf,” Zuko shrugs, “but I wanted it to be fun again, so Kiyi and Mom can come and enjoy themselves, you know? Get rid of the sad nostalgia, make room for new memories. Maybe we could have regular reunions here.”

“Heck yeah!” chimes Toph, hefting her bag. “I am so ready for some vacation time!” Things are dropped in rooms, and Katara is convinced to join the group at the beach, even though the things that sound the best right now are to sink into the fluffy white covers of the bed she’s been given and have a deep, sun-soaked nap, dreaming away the afternoon for the first time in years.

She pads out, yawning, in her swimsuit, and looks around, trying to remember where the towels were stored last time. She turns too quickly, and runs into something soft, clean, cottony-- a stack of towels?

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry, Rina...” Katara stammers, but it’s not the maid. It’s Zuko, who is shirtless and ready for the beach. Her heart thumps a few times and her blood seems to rush a little faster in her veins, because his trunks sling low on his sharp hipbones, and thank Tui and La that she managed to that chest scar to fade to something more dashing. A trail of hair follows his bellybutton down into those trunks...and she’s just gonna stop that thought-canoe and turn it right back upriver.

“Oh, Rina’s packing us some rice balls for snacks, do you have any requests? I know you like pickled ocean kumquats...” He trails off too, sticking a hand behind his head sheepishly. His mane of hair is knotted messily on the back of his head.

“Any flavor is fine!” she squeaks. “Let’s go! I can’t wait for dip! It’s so lovely out today!”

“It is,” he agrees, and scoops up the towels, flinging them over his shoulder. His hand brushes hers lightly as they take the path down to the black sand beach.

Aang arrives just in time for dinner. Rina brings out a sumptuous feast of all their favorites: hippo-cow braised in soy sauce and ginger, rooster-pig spare ribs deep fried and dusted with lime zest and chilis ground to a fine powder, crispy garlic arctic whale-shrimp, a sweet and sour sprouted bean curd, and a miraculous leg of caribou that is roasted and covered in a pearly sauce that is delicately scented and made Sokka cry when it was set down in front of him.

“I tried to make sure we all got something we liked,” Zuko admits, seated comfortably at the head of the table. He’s placed Katara on his right, Toph on his left, and Katara doesn’t mind this. The maid has served what seems like a hundred side dishes, which keeps her plenty occupied, instead of having to make awkward eye contact with Aang. Katara picks up spicy fermented cucumber-melon, braised potatoes and peppers, sautéed pea shoots, and takes a little bit of all the main dishes. “And, my father left one gift: that quite amazing selection of wines and spirits.”

Katara and Suki have been enjoying the plum wine, and Sokka and Toph have turned drinking shots of soju into some kind of game, and are easily drinking Aang under the table already. She hasn’t enjoyed herself, been so relaxed and at ease, in a long time.

“Here, Katara, have you ever had these? They’re a specialty of Ember Island,” Zuko says softly. She turns to him, his chopsticks clutching some noodles like glass threads, mixed with tomato-carrots and green onions. She shakes her head no, and he offers her a bite, guiding the chopsticks to her mouth. They slip in, yummy, and she slurps the last few over her lips.  

“Sorry, country manners,” she says, covering her face and blushing.

“No, no, it’s...it’s cute,” he says. “I don’t mind!” He thinks that’s cute? She decides to take it, and tries to shift the subject, to side-step Zuko turning into the awkward turtle-duck.

“What’s your favorite side dish? We’ve never gotten to eat such a nice meal together so close to each other!” In fact, the last time Katara was at a dinner with Zuko, it was a very formal affair, she was seated halfway down the table from him, between two lords and across from Aang, and it was a plated meal, with a different servant bringing her soup, her salad, her braised pork that was truthfully far too spicy, and she nearly cried when yet another servant brought her some pineapple-lime shaved ice to finish with.

“Hmm,” he murmurs, and his mouth bunches and pouts to one side, “This one.” He proffers long ribbons of carrot in sticky red sauce, sprinkled with sesame seeds. She slurps those off his chopsticks too.

“Ahh! So spicy! But good, really good!” She gulps some more plum wine, feeling warm all over. “Pick another you like.” She wants to know all his favorites tonight. Before dinner, he’d ditched his formal clothes, and has relaxed in a red silk shirt that leaves much of his chest open for her eyes to roam. Nice abs, she notes, for someone who claims to do paperwork all day long.

The wine is getting to her.

“Rina, don’t worry about us, please, head to bed. We’ll probably drink some more, talk, and definitely sleep in in the morning. Plenty of time for you and Lien to do dishes in the morning,” Zuko says to the maid, who is clearly yawning. She bows, murmurs a thank you, and heads off up the stairs. Katara loves how nice Zuko and Iroh are to their employees; the Earth King has several ministers who treat the servants like dirt. She’s brought it up to Kuei, but he only frowns and polishes his glasses.

“Alright! Now we can break out the good stuff!” Toph shouts, and punches the air. She is gone and back again in a flash.

“Good stuff? There’s so much good stuff here already!” Aang’s words come out a little soupy--he’s lost the soju drinking game. He takes a hearty spoonful of fruit tart. “This is so good, Zuko. I love fruit tarts!”

“I didn’t want to sailors to get ahold of this stuff; I confiscated it from one of my students. Ha!” Toph says, dropping back down on her cushion. She holds a long pipe in hand and pouch.

“So that’s why you were beating that poor guy up on the boat?” asks Sokka. Suki has migrated to mostly-in-Sokka’s-lap, but who is Katara to judge, because she is leaning full-body on Zuko--it’s certainly not the wine, she thinks, it’s the biceps for sure.

“Well, hell yeah, this stuff is wild!” crows Toph, dumping some clumps of dried green leaves on the table. She crumbles and stuffs, crumbles and stuff, and passes the pipe to Zuko. “Gimme a light, Master Sparky-pants? First puff is yours, host with the most!”

“What is it?” he asks, flicking two fingers and summoning a small flame. He lights the little leaves in the pipe bowl.

“Green dragon-weed!” Toph crows. “It’ll blow your mind!” Zuko tentatively puffs, coughs, and passes the pipe.

“That’s foul, Toph. Why?” Katara also passes, but Aang tries and Sokka tries, and Toph is clearly an expert, because she blows out perfect smoke rings.

Soon, they are a group of giggling kids again, lying on the floor, cackling at Sokka’s bad jokes as Suki regales stories of their stories, as she and Sokka work as prisoner escorts mostly these days. Aang and Toph keep passing that pipe back and forth, but Katara’s cup of plum wine never seems to empty, mostly because Zuko keeps giving her sips out of his--first a fiery ginger whiskey, next a herby, clear soju with lots of something citrusy squeezed in it, then a sweet melon liquor. He will nudge to offer, and every time, they make electric eye contact, and all the blood in her vein rushes down to the center of her hips.

“These are all really good,” she mumbles, feeling so relaxed and happy, warm against Zuko’s arm, full of food and drink, surrounded by friends.

“Good, I’m glad you’re having a good time,” he says lightly, nuzzling his nose to her ear.  More of that, please, she thinks, his breath hot on her cheek, and she steals a look at the others. Sokka and Suki are halfway out the door to their room, Toph is half-asleep, and Aang lays on the floor, blowing smoke into creatures for Momo to chase after, mostly out of sight.

She turns, and steels herself. “Can I...?”

His eyebrow knits. “Whatever you like?” What a good host.

She cranes her neck a little, and sneaks a peck on his lips, firm and spicy. There’s a little jolt, like electricity, and he presses back, firm, maybe even a little desperate. He shifts angles, captures her more surely. She melts a little, but pulls back. Toph and Aang are still sprawled on the floor, blissfully unaware.

“Aang, I am just beat, aren’t you? Toph? I think we should all drink a glass of water and go to bed,” she says gently.

“Huh? Mmm, yeah, I am pooped!” Aang slurs, and tries to get up, loses his balance, slips. “Monkeyfeathers!”

Toph snores on. Zuko, who still has his bearings, swiftly helps Aang to his feet, and scoops Toph up in a cradle hold. Katara settles the completely toasted Avatar into bed, takes off his shoes and shirt, and forces a glass of water in him. She leaves another on the table, but he’s asleep before she slides the door shut.

“She is out cold!” Zuko says, sliding the door shut. The house is quiet, so quiet that Katara can hear her heart racing. He pads back over. The tie of his shirt has come undone over the course of the evening, and she decides to take yet another chance. She closes the gap between them in the hall, pressing her hand to his chest and reaching up for another kiss.

It’s almost like he knows, and his hands tangle in her hair before their lips meet again. She clutches at the sides of his shirt, thrilled to touch and feel and smell him. One of his hands drops from her hair, and his thumb traces deliciously down her neck, to cup her waist and pull her closer. She sighs as she relaxes into the touch of his lips, the tip of his tongue pushing experimentally. He breaks for a moment.

“C’mon, let’s...get more comfortable,” he rasps, and pulls her down the hall, sliding open the red paper door at the end of the hall. He flicks his hand, lighting many lamps softly, and the room glows a rich red. He pulls her to the bed, and she flops down. The bed cradles her, and she suddenly loses all desire to move.

“I want you to know that I want this, but I’m so tired, Zuko. Rain check?” she murmurs.

“I understand. Can I...can I help you get ready for bed?” he asks, almost shy. Her heart skips. She cranes her neck up, and presses her lips to his heatedly.

“Sure.”

He slips off the bed and shucks his silk shirt to a stool. Next, the gold sash and black trousers. She chuckles lightly, because the style of underwear Fire Nation men wear is so weird-looking, so tight-fitting and trim, but his is black and she’s not surprised by that.

He kneels, and pushes up the skirts of her summer dress. It’s light blue silk with a white surcoat so gossamer it might be made of cobwebs, a gift from the Earth King for her last birthday, and in this heat, she’s glad it’s sleeveless. His hot hands press into her thighs, and he leans in, takes a breath, trails kisses down her inner thighs, over her knees.

He tenderly unwraps the ties from her slippers--they lace up her legs with ribbons--and presses a kiss on her calf. Fingers trail down the back of her calves, over her heels as he tugs the slippers off, stashing them on the floor.

Shoes off, he unties the waistband of the surcoat, lays it on the stool. He takes issue with the buttons on the side of the dress, but gets them undone, and he tugs it over her head until it floats back to join the surcoat. He flips her over, gripping her hips, and pulls the tie of the petticoat, tugs that down too. Hot kisses feather up her spine, and she can’t help but let a noise that is half moan, half sigh.

“Feels so good, Zuko, but I am so ready for some sleep,” she drawls, eyes drooping.

Gently, he presses a heated kiss to her neck, and wow, Katara didn’t know she could sparkle internally. His hands trail to her waist and back up.

“Can I offer you a place to rest here?” he asks, a joke in his voice.

“Seems like just the right place to be,” she yawns. He pulls back the sheets, cool and crisp, and she settles in. He snuggles close to her, and she drifts off, hoping that every reunion can be like this.

#mine #zutara week 2020 #i love writing about food #sorry not sorry #i feel like every good couple 'takes a break' when necessary #so maybe canon-compliant? #reunion

[ellus986]

Don’t stop me now part 1

Roger Taylor x Reader

Warning: swearing, drinking, smoking, Truth or dare, using drugs, unprotected sex (guys if you are having a one night stand or what ever use condoms, we are not in the 80’s and you don’t want to get something from the other, or get pregnant!)

Comment: I know Brian, and Roger had kids at this time, but in my storyline they are not just kidless, but singles too.

July 1980

It is your 24th birthday, and you are flotting on a mat in the lake. You stayed for the weekend in Freddie’s lake house with your sister, her husband and his bandmates.

“Freddie, darling, could you put some sunscreen on my back?” You ask as you get out of the water. You lie down in the grass and get down your bikini top.

“Y/N!” Yells Veronica.

“What? It is just us!” You smirk.

“Let her be Veronica!” Chuckles Fred.

First noone understood why you two clicked so easily, almost instantly even there was that 10 years between you, but it got clear when one year ago you told your family you are bisexual, not like Freddie knew it, he just saw his younger -female- version of himself in you. You never spoke with your parents after this, but you find a new family in the boys along with your sister’s who never abonded you.

“Not like we didn’t run into the water naked last night!” You wink at the boys. You see how Roger, and Brian try to not look at Deacy, only Fred who smooths your back is laughing. Your sister never liked your free spirit, mostly when you were with the boys who are all over 30.

“Y/N!” Your sister yells at you again.

“What? I’m a young, and free woman, I can do what I want to do! If I want to get drunk and swim naked I can, and I will!” You look at her with the bigest smirk you ever had on your face. “I never started with taken men, or women so I don’t get why you are so over it. I just enjoy my life before settling down.” You get up and kiss her on the cheek. “You should enjoy the weekend too, you left the kiddos to the grandparents!” You giggle as you go in the house, still half naked.

You get out of the cold bathroom with hard nipples just to bump into Roger. His eyes are immediately gazing at your boobs. “My face is here big boy!” You put your finger under his jaw to lift it up.

“Sorry...” he mumbles but you can see on his face that he has no regrets.

“Don’t lie blondie!” You lick your bottom lip and you see how his eyes are draged to this motion.

“Well...” he steps closer and puts his hand on your waist, but gets cut off by the opening front door. As he steps back you turn and walk by Brian giggling.

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

You did it again. As you get drunk with your new family it felt so natural. You danced with Deacy, and Veronica before they called it quit. Even he was the youngest man around you could see how parenting changed him in this habbit, so you stayed up with the old, drunk and single boys.

You are sitting in Brian’s lap when Fred yells. “Lets swim again!” He grabs your hand and you see how Roger is ahead of you, as you grab Brian’s hand to make him follow you.

All the boys are faster runners than you so you see three pair of pale asses as they are getting they clothes down and about to jump from the pier. You follow them naked too, jumping a bomb just between the three of them.

Freddie gives you a quick kiss on the lips, and swims away chuckling just as fast as he came to you, just before Roger grabs your hips and pulls you into his arms. You suprise him as you turn to him just before you bump into his chest, and put your arms around his neck. “What’s up blondie?” You give him a nasty smile.

“Nothin’...” he bites off the end of the word as you wrap your legs around his waist under the dark water.

“What? You’ve been bitten by a shark?” Jokes Brian, as he sees his face.

“Nope!” Roger shakes his head, and a moan almost leaves his lips as you wrap your legs more tightly on him. You can feel how his cock starts to get hard under your ass. As he wants to grab you, you slip out of his fingers and dive under the water. Your butt and other parts of your body are above water for a split second, just for him, just to teas him. You almost bump into Brian as you came up, you stole the vine from his hand, and sip from it, three or maybe four big sips. God, you started to get so waisted.

You feel Rogers fingers digging into your skin, before he grabs you, and pushes his chest and his erection into your back. “I want to taste some vine!” He says and before you could offer the glass he gets a little bit side way, pinches your jaw and locks his lips to yours.

It is a breath taking experince, but you kiss back. You hear Brian, but couldn’t care less. “Hey guys, give back the vine, don’t sit on it.” You feel how he grabs the bottle from your hand, but you don’t care just turn to Roger, while your lips aren’t parting from eachother at all.

You feel Brian’s fingers on your hips as he grabs you and pulls you away as Freddie does it with Roger. Now you collision into Brian’s chest. He could let you go, but his hands are still on you.

“Let me go, scientist!” You shake yourself, until he lets you go.

“Roger, darling, you can’t expropriate our beautiful baby girl!” Chuckles Fred.

“Come on Fred, like I’m the only one who would kiss her here!” Roger splashes some water on him. And the war begin.

“Oh God, look out for his hair!” You yell dramaticly pointing at Brian, and that’s the point you get involved in the war too. Brian grabs you and throw you in the water.

When your side starts to hurt from lauging, you get out of the water and get your lace panties up, and stole Roger’s shirt, and tie it just enough to not flash your nipples, and show of enough of your butt.

“Hey, where are you going?” Brian yells after you.

“For my scotch, and a cigarette!” You yell back, before you head to the table full with drinks and cigarettes. As you turn back, with a smoke cloud coming out of your mouth you see how the boys are getting out of the water. You consider yourself lucky, so many women want to see them naked, and you saw so many times already three of them -the last one can stay hiden from you forever- naked, even felt their naked body, still you are not a one night groupie.

“I think this dress wouldn’t look good on me!” Roger takes your flowery dress from the grass.

“Than just stick with only pants, like you not doing that usually!” You laugh. As he jumps into his shorts you see him sprint in your way. You put down your glass and start to run. You run giggling, but he is faster than you, so he jumps on you easily. The two of you fall into the grass, you are still giggling while he is on top of you. His fingers are vondering in your hair before he kisses you again. You hold into his waist so hard he moans into your mouth. You push him, and change position. Now you are on top of him, he has a good look at your boobs as you are leaning over him. “Don’t you think you shouldn’t get hard in front of our friends?” You wishper into his ear, and get up walking by slow enough so you can feel his eyes gazing on your bottom.

“Truth or dare?” Brian asks, and you raise an eyebrow at Freddie.

“You know I’m always in!” He holds an empty glass as he sits down on the pier.

“Blondie?” You look back to see him trying to place his prick in a less visible position, while his eyes are gazing still on your butt.

“Comin’!” He follows you, and sits next to you.

Fred spins the bottle and it is going on you, you know it will be something you won’t expect, and defenetly will make people upset. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare!” You nod before sip a big from your wishky.

“Kiss...” your jaw droped, he dares the most common thing you ever seen. “...Brian!” You feel the second shock getting trough your body.

“You don’t need ...” you cut off Brian’s words as you lean trough the circle put your hand in his wet, curly hair and kiss him. It is nice, defenetly not as wild, and hot as it is with Roger, but it is nice, very nice. He not just kisses you back, but slide his fingers into your wet locks.

“It was enough, it is your turn, brat!” You hear Roger behind you.

“Jelaous?” Asks Fred.

“Nooo!” He shakes his head, and as you sit back you look at him licking your top lip, and wink at him. Freddie cracks up in laughter, Brian start to feel uncomfortable, Roger is looking at you with mad eyes, and you just spin the glass. It stops on Freddie.

“Truth or dare?”

“Truth!” He answers quick.

You think for some seconds, than ask. “Did you ever wanted to fuck me?” You ask and both of Brian’s and Roger’s eyes are wide open.

“I think you are pretty, but you are like a sister to me, never ever would be horny enough to fuck you!” He chuckles.

“Oh thank God! I feel the same!” You giggle.

Fred spins again, and now it stops at Roger.

“Truth or dare?” He asks, when he get a dare as an answer he continued. “Run naked around the lake!”

“No way, there is another houses there, someone else’s property!” He mumbles.

“Grandpa” you cough.

“You can call me anything, but it is something a grown up man can decide himself!” He says and you try not to laugh.

The game goes on and hidious request are made, but you can’t get out of your head Freddie’s to Roger. When it is your turn again you spin, and it stops on the blonde one.

“Dare or dare?” You ask with a nasty smile.

“Truth!” He looks at you with shock on his face.

“So you dare!” You mumble like he said nothing. “Old man run naked around the lake...but I do it with you too!” You add it as you see his face.

“What?” His jaw drops to the floor.

“I run naked with you around the lake if you dare to do it, old man!” You giggle.

“You called me an old man?” He gets close to you your lips are so close you can feel his breath.

“Yeah, I’m sure you won’t do it just because you are an old man!” You see in the corner of your eye that Fred is getting the camera from the table, as he sees Roger’s face. You know it too, you won.

He kisses you again, you see the camera flashing and you just show your middle finger to Freddie still kissing, flashing again. “Strip little girl, we are going to run!” He looks in your eyes, and those ocean blue eyes are burning your skin, making you wet between your legs, his look promises something more, something you couldn’t figure out yet.

You drop everything on the grass and start to run. “You are slow old man!” You turn back yelling, chuckling when he just gets down his shorts. He just about to caught you, when he slaps your ass, and you see again in perfect timing Freddie flashing. Your sister will die if she sees those pictures.

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

You wake up naked, next to Roger, and his hand is on your breast, like it is his property. You have no time to wake up because Brian is opening the door. “Roger wake up, the breakfast is...” he stops as his eyes find you, naked, down covered by the blanket, at the top by Rog. “Sorry... didn’t know...” he stutters.

“Relax, you have seen more!” You giggle, while you drop the dead hand off, as you get up and put on your panties, and Roger’s shirt from yesterday. “He is all yours!” You say before Brian pulls him out of the bed by his legs.

You laugh as Bri walks out. “Good mornin’ blondie!”

“Mornin’... did we?” He asks as he realises he is naked.

“Old man you are not remembering? Nice. You can kiss me, but I didn’t let any of you fuck me!” You look at him with a smirk.

“I remember kissing you, I remember when you kissed Brian, when I kissed you again, and even our run, but after that...” he mumbles.

“You kissed me several times, slaped me on the ass maybe more than you should’ve and that is all, your room was on the floor mine up stairs, I stayed here after we kissed for a massive hour after everyone got to sleep!” You giggle.

“Oh that is great!” He gets his short on.

“Ooh, nice!” You wishper as you walk out of the room, close behind you with him.

“Good morning sunshines!” You greet loudly everyone at the counter.

“Good morning, Oh God what did you do sis?” Veronica looks at you with shock.

“Good to see you too, nothing I would regret!” You giggle.

“That does not limit anything!” Says your sister.

“Thank you sis! I did not let him into my pants if you want to know that, or any of them, I’m not a slut, but thank you!” You look at her with mad eyes.

“You came out of his room, in his shirt...” she mumbles.

“Yeah we slept together but beside kissing nothing happend! And kissing did happend during Truth or dare, thanks to Fred!” You giggle.

“I dared you to kiss Brian!” He chuckles.

“And you did?” Asks your sister.

“Ooh, don’t be prude it was just a kiss!” You slap on the table.

“You making me question your none-slut life!” She answers.

“I dared, but that is all, I didn’t lied in Brian’s bed like fuck me now, and never will!” You look at her like you want to kill her. She always speaks about you like you did everything so wrong, even you just lived your life freely.

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

You are sitting in your apartment with vine in your hand, and a joint in your mouth. It is a saturday night, and you are around people you don’t know, as your roommate has a party. Not like you are not having fun, you just miss the people you knew. As a young guy sits next to you, puts his hands around your shoulder, you decide that you need to call one person that is on your mind, you jump up and leave him without a word.

The phone is ringing, and you are druming with your fingers on the table. “Hallo?” You hear his sleepy voice.

“Old man, I’m drunk and bored, you can’t sleep now, I need your company here!” You say.

“Where?” He asks, and you can hear as his skinny jeans are pulled up.

“My apartment!” You mumble.

“Shit that is across the town!” He says.

“My company isn’t worth it?” You ask, like an innocent little girl, even he knows you better than believe your act.

“Little girl, your company always worth it, you know that!” Something is in his voice that you can’t figure it, but as high you are not even really try to.

“Get in your car, I miss your face, blondie!” You moan into the phone.

“On my way!” He says as he puts the phone down.

You get into your room and brush your hair, make sure your boobs are looking great, and your room is not that big of a mess. You lie down on your bed, and lose track of time for a little bit, to get knock back go reality by your roommate. “Y/N, honey some old dude is saying you called him here, can you come?” She asks, and you are jumping up with the brightest smile, she looks at you like you gone mad.

“Roger!” You scream even before you could see him in the door way. As your eyes meet up with his, you run and jump on him, your legs are around his waist your arms around his neck.

“If I know you greet me like this I came even faster!” He laughs into your mouth as he kisses you. “You are drunk, am I right?”

“Drunk, high... can’t name which more...” you giggle, but he just start to walk with you to the room you just runned out.

He sits you down on the bed, and gets on his knees. “What did you get high on, Silly little girl?” He asks little worried, as you don’t answers he shakes you a little and asks again. “What drug did you take, love?”

“Relax old man, don’t arrest me for smoking please!” You chuckle, and you can see how he relaxes about it.

“So you didn’t get anything just alcohol and weed?” He asks with a moppet on his face.

“Yeah, want some?” You ask and climb trough your bed to get your hiden joint from your sidetable. But as you get it out you feel Rog behind you grabing you into his arms.

“I want some, but not from the weed...” he wishpers into your ear.

“Nasty old man!” You giggle. “I wanted to party with you, didn’t called just for fucking!”

“Not just for fucking?” He kisses your back as you sit up.

“Old man, don’t think I’m a slut, more less likely your slut!” You get out of his arms and go back to the party. Elena, one of your best friend just runs to you and kisses you, you kiss back. You can hear Roger’s sigh behind you.

“Oh Hi there, I’m Elena, and you are...” she holds her hand out.

“Oohm... I’m Roger!” He stutters.

“Wait, Oh God I’m drunk as fuck it seems!” She chuckles. “I even were on one of your concerts...” she says before walking away.

“How long are you drinking?” He asks.

“Like maybe three hours, but I don’t need anything to drink to kiss her!” You laugh.

“Come here my none-slut!” He grabs you before he kisses you.

“When Fred kisses me on my mouth do you think I’m a slut?” You ask with a curious face.

“No I’m not!” He answers with a serious look.

“Than why now, when she is just as a good friend of mine?” You ask little hurten.

“I never thought you are a slut, you are a young woman enjoying your life, as it should be enjoyed by everyone!” He smooths out some hair of your face. “I know you for a while now, and know that you play easy, but not really are!” He kisses your cheek. “If you would be I would have been able to fuck you a year ago when I kissed you first!”

“Oh true, you try to get into my pants for a year now! And my sister still thinks I’m a slut...” you laugh bitter sweet.

“She does not, but you wanted to party with me! Where is my drink?” He pokes you, and you walk him to the kitchen holding hands. You jump up to sit on the tiny counter and reach for the vine you had next to you, give it into his hand, but as you wished he steps between your legs instead and kisses you deep, like no other ten people are standing in the same room, like only the two of you are there. “And to be fair, I wanted to get into your pants even before I kissed you!” His hands are so tight on your waist you are sure about that you will be waking up with marks tomorrow.

“Maybe about to succeed...” you wishper, and you see his eyebrows raising, but he says nothing about it. He drinks a big sip from the bottle you gave him, and kisses you again, and drinks again, kisses you again, and drinks again and so on.

“You want to really easily get drunk!” You chuckle as he finishes the bottle, you are already siping on a champagne, feeling dizzy.

“Can you blame me?” He laughs. “I could be the father of some of these kids!” His smoky voice is just so desperate.

“Your voice just fucking turns me on!” You moan, and you hear the boy next to you choke on his drink.

“You don’t care what am I saying, right?” He bits your bottom lip.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah I know you feel old... don’t!” You giggle.

“Your roommate said some old dude is here for you and you screamed my name, without a doubt it can be anyone else...” you can still tell that it is hurting his feelings.

“She called John an old dude a week ago when he picked me up for the lake house trip, and I only called you to come here for me, so I had no doubt that my sexy blonde old man came to save me from these fetuses here!” You giggle.

“Fetuses? You speak?” He asks.

“It does not bothered you when your hand was on my naked boobs!” You giggle into his mouth. “You see that fetus in the corner?” You point to the guy who was sitting next to you in the living room,and you continue as he nods. “He tried to hit on me, that was the moment I realised no boys - beacouse I can’t call them mans - are good enough for me here!” You giggle.

“And I’m?” He turns back to you.

“Hey rockstar you are doubting yourself?” You laugh with your head falling back.

“Maybe for a minute!” He bits your neck.

“Speak on this smoky voice, and I cum without you even touching me!” You wishper in his ear, before you bit it.

“Say it again, and than the party is over for you!” He pinches your jaw between his fingers.

“Say anything and I’m lost anyway!” You moan into his neck as you put your legs tight around his waist again, his hand is under your bottom, and you feel how hard he is.

“What’s about I want to fuck you now?” He says it with even more smokier voice, just to teas you.

“What’s about what the hell keeps you back?” You kiss him, and he moans into your lips.

“I guess nothing!” He gets you down the counter, and walks with you on him, still kissing you, into your room. You hear Elena’s applause in the back, she listened to you when you spoke about your teasy life next to Rog, and always wanted you to let him in. And now you are excatly on that plan. You get down his shirt button by button after he closed the door behind you. He drops you to your bed, way more violent than an hour ago, but you like it. He hook his fingers into your shorts, and panties at the same time and strips you. He unknots the shirt you had on, and asks in shock. “Is it my shirt?” When you nod he continues as he drops it to on the floor. “I was looking for it for a while!”

“You left it at John’s I needed to sleep in something and he gave me that. Now it is mine!” You giggle.

“We will speak about that... Oh girl, do you know how beautiful you are?” He asks as he watches you naked on the bed while he is getting down his jeans.

“Nasty old man, you came without a boxer?” You giggle as you sit up to be in perfect line with his hard member. You close your hand around them, and he closes his eyes. “What made you this hard?”

“You, baby girl!” He moans as you start to trust him.

“Just me old man? Noone else out there?” You are so close to his cock that he can feel your breath, and it is making him crazy.

“Noone is close to you, doll!” He moans.

“Noone?” You teas him.

“Noone!” He mumbles, and you put your lips around his prick, still holding it in your left hand, while your right hand is slowly moving up on his leg to his balls. You just squeeze them as he grabs your hair to dominate over you. You moan as your wishes are coming true. He fucks your mouth, and you can’t help just play with your tongue, and moan every fucking second. He cups your face and gets on his knees to kiss you first on your lips, than on your neck, followed by your collarbone, and your breast. He cups one and kiss the other, than changes, but won’t stay long before he kisses your stomach and push your legs, to make you spread them the most for him.

“Do you like it old man?” You ask, when his eyes are wondering on your pubic.

“Oh little girl, you can’t imagine how many times did I dream about it!” He moans.

“I thought you could get anyone... why would you dream about me?” You ask half joking half serious.

“But I couldn’t get you, that is why!” He moans not even thinking what he says, as he just licks you for the first time. He moans and you close your eyes.

“So you just want one more girl you fucked?” You giggle.

“Oh girl, we are way over that line!” He chuckles like a defeated man. “You are not just one in the line...” he moans into you before his tongue starts the work. You scream as he can make wonders with his mouth. “So sweet...are you this wet for me, or anyone else here?” He asks on that smoky voice and you whin.

“Oh God, Roger for you!” You moan as he licks you so deep.

“Only for me?” He teases you as he stops.

“Yes, Yes, Yes only for you old man, please!” You put your fingers in his hair but he grabs your wrist and pushes it into the bed.

“What you are begging for?” He lick on more time before pushes you into the bed, laying on your back, he leans over you and holds your hands above your head.

“For you to fill me up!” You whin.

“My baby girl is so desperate, am I right?” He kisses you, before he pinches your chin.

“Yes, old man I want you to fill me up!” You almost scream as you feel his cock sliding in your wetness between your legs.

“With what?” He teases you more.

“Please Roger, fuck me!” You beg as you can’t take it anymore.

He situates himself in a perfect place to slide into you, but before he would do that he slides one finger in, as you curl your back he puts in another and trust in you so fast, you just fall from the edge and cum. “Oh little girl, you cum without me?” He asks and as you nod he slides into you. “Now you need to cum on me!” He kisses you, still holding your hands above your head. He fuckes you hard, and couldn’t look away, as couldn’t you as both of you are sweaty, pounding mess right now . You looked in his deep, blue eyes when you fall from the edge again, it was so intense you just screamed even you know there where planty of people out there hearing you now beside the loud music. “Good girl!” He says and finally lets go of your hands, so you can scratch his back, to make him move faster and harder. You can’t decide your last orgasm even ended when you feel the need to tighten around him again, but now you know he is close too. “Y/N!” He moans and make you fall one more time from the edge, as he fills you up.

“Roger!” You scream as you shiver under him. As he rolles down you hear I’m in love with my car playing in the living room, and you start to laugh. Elena and her humor.

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

When you almost done with making breakfast Elena walks behind you and hugs you. “Morning sex machine, ready to reload!”

“Morning my sweet friend!” You giggle and give her a plat full of scrambled eggs. “Eat!”

“You are a life saver!” She kisses your cheek. “It was this good?”

“You mean the first, the second or the third one?” You smirk at her.

“I told you, you should do it!” She giggles as she steps over the people still sleeping on the floor.

“Mornin’ girls!” Walks Roger in the kitchen.

“Good morning!” Comes the answer in choir.

He kisses your neck and you handle him a plat too. “Thank you!” He puts his other hand on his forhead.

“Hang over?” Asks Elena.

“Maybe...” he nods. “But I guess this will help.” He says as he sits down to eat. You sit down next to them. “You won’t eat?”

“I’m not hungry yet!” You answer.

As both of them finished they breakfast you get them coffee. You make one with milk and sugar for Elena, and one for Roger just plan black. “You know me!” He looks up at you when you put it in front of him. “Thank you!” He puts his hand on your arm, it feels intimate.

To be continued...

My sweet perms:

@spacedust1124719 @simply-sams-things

If you want to be tagged let me know! 🙈😘

#roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x y/n #roger taylor x you #queen fanfiction #roger taylor fanfic #queen fan fic #queen #dont stop me now #drunk

[tigerintokyo]

IDOLiSH7 Part 1, Ch 4.2 side story

Side Story: A Man Still Involved

(other parts in the directory)

Translation under the break.

-

Mitsuki: TRIGGER sure is something! This line is super long!

Sogo: They really are amazing. I've never seen such a long line for goods. And, they have a lot of female fans too.

Mitsuki: Sogo, do you go to a lot of concerts?

Sogo: Yes! I've never been to an idol concert before, but I've seen a lot of rock concerts. 

Sogo: People were moshing, and there was a platform you could stage dive from. It was a lot of fun.

Sogo: For people who aren't used to it, there's a "manner box" that you can stand in and even do like a two-step safely.

Mitsuki: ............

Sogo: Oh, um......... Mitsuki-san, have you been to a lot of idol concerts?

Mitsuki: I have! I like both male and female idols! I basically oshi the whole group, but when the crowd starts cheering for your oshi, it's way too much fun! [1]

Mitsuki: I've been collecting concert ribbons, so I hope I can get one tonight too! [2]

Sogo: ............?

Mitsuki: ........Even though we both go to live concerts, the genre is so different, we can't even understand each other.

Sogo: Yeah....... I'm not used to concerts with assigned seats, so tell me if I'm doing something rude.

Mitsuki: It's best if you don’t bother the people around you when you’re waving a fan or a light stick. Keeping them at about shoulder height is best!

Sogo: A fan! Oh, that's what they're all buying from the booth.

Mitsuki: Ta-da! I made my own!

Sogo: Wow! This is amazing....!

Mitsuki: You can enjoy even more when you do it yourself!!

Sogo: I should have made one too......

Mitsuki: I really like TRIGGER. How did you get into them?

Sogo: I heard their song on a music news site. I liked their voices and got hooked. I was surprised to find out they were idols.

Sogo: Just being able to sing that song was amazing, but they sing while dancing..... I saw they also do acting. It's really amazing.

Mitsuki: Right? Aren't idols great?!

Sogo: They really are....

Mitsuki: We're going to be great idols too!

Mitsuki: After we see TRIGGER perform tonight, let's shine even brighter!

Sogo: Yeah!

Mitsuki: Alright! Since we're here, let's go buy fans from the goods booth too. If you get a member fan and you’re lucky, he will give you some idol fan service.

Sogo: Can I get fans for all three of them?

Mitsuki: But Sogo, if it were you, wouldn't you be happier if it was just your fan, and not all seven? Ah, IDOLiSH7 hasn't made any goods yet though....

Sogo: I guess that's true.... I don't know who to choose.... Mitsuki, are you going to only get one member?

Mitsuki: I'm getting Yaotome Gaku! 

Sogo: Really?

Mitsuki: He seems to really get into it when he’s performing! On top of that, his face is really handsome.

Sogo: In that case, I'll go with Tenn-kun or Ryunosuke-san. I wonder if I'll be able to decide by the time we get to the front of the line.....

Mitsuki: Probably by the time we’re done, everyone else should have made it here too. Nagi's been up since this morning, so I don't think he'll be late! 

Sogo: Tamaki-kun was also awake before I could even wake him up.

Mitsuki: Great! It looks like those troublemakers are finally acting like idols!

Sogo: Yes!

Mitsuki: It would be a low blow if they were late on such an important day. 

-

(Pow!)

Suspicious young guy: Ugh......

Suspicious tall guy: That.... son of a.....!

Nagi: Don't be scared. I've only ever learned self-defense. So all I'm doing is defending myself. I was never taught to attack. 

Suspicious tall guy: .........ugh, what.....!

Nagi: So, I had to learn this on my own.

(Bam......!)

Suspicious tall guy: ...........! Ugh.....fuck......

Suspicious young guy: W-what are you.....?!

Nagi: Now then. I don't really like feeling up a man, but..... Ah, a knife and a handgun. You're packing dangerous.

Suspicious tall guy: Give those back.....! Ugh......

Suspicious young guy: You bastard! Take your foot off his head! .......?! .......Ah......! 

Nagi: If you move, I'll shoot, and I'm a pretty good shot.

Suspicious young guy: ....................!

Nagi: I would like you to return my phone. See, isn't the home screen lovely? I'm so happy you're safe..... My angel.......

Nagi: OH......! Look at the time! This is bad! 

Nagi: If I'm late because of you, Mitsuki and Tsumugi are going to be so upset! He'll do dust box shoot again.....!

Suspicious young guy: Wh......who the hell are you?! Are you a cop?! You're not the mule?!

Nagi: Why did you think I was a mule?

Suspicious young guy: Y-you looked like him and you had that big bag! You were even at the drop off point!

Nagi: Drop off point.... ......Yamato, Tamaki......

Suspicious young guy: Who are you?!

Nagi: Before I rob you of your consciousness, I have two important messages for you.

Nagi: #1. There can't be another man in the world blessed with as much beauty as me. 

Nagi: #2. I'm not going to tell you my name.

Nagi: I would never forgive you if you tarnished my name by saying it. It would be an insult to me and my country.

Suspicious tall guy: ............! I know who you are.... I heard this from the guys in the Scandanavian Sect. ........ugh.....you're.....!

Nagi: I told you I would never forgive you.

(Wailing)

Suspicious tall guy: Ugh......!

Suspicious tall guy: ....................ugh.......ugh.....

Nagi: You aren't very smart.

Nagi: ........I have to get back to Yamato and Tamaki. Please, be safe!

-

Tamaki: There's a lot of cop cars here, huh?

Yamato: Maybe because of the fire?

Police: .....I repeat. A hazardous material has been identified in this area. All civilians are asked to evacuate immediately. 

Tamaki: Evacuate.... I guess because of the fire.

Yamato: Ah......... Oh, it's Nagi on the phone.

Yamato: Hello? Where are you? "Get rid of the bag"?

Yamato: What? "Don't touch the bag"? 

Tamaki: What? But, I'm doing such a good job taking care of it!

Woman in a suit: Don't move!

Tamaki: What?

Woman in a suit: Don't get any closer to the tower! Please....!

Tamaki: What did you say? Let's go.

Yamato: Hey, Tama. Wait a second.

Woman in a suit: Wait....

Man in a suit: Senpai, it's too late! He's already within the signal's range.

Woman in a suit: ........What, oh my god...... We have to stop him right now! It's rigged with gyro sensors!

Woman in a suit: If the bomb is moved around too much, the sensor will be triggered and it will go off immediately!

Tamaki: Ugh, it's so heavy. *adjust bag* Here we go.

Woman in a suit: Gaaaahhhh!

Man in a suit: Ahhhhh!

Tamaki: Those guys are acting kinda weird.

Yamato: They keep looking over here.

Woman in a suit: I have to calm down..... OK. OK. Everything's OK! Let's try talking to him slowly.

Man in a suit: We have to make sure he doesn't get agitated. The sensor will be triggered if he moves suddenly, like bending over or pulling back.

Tamaki: Yama-san. Should I run over there and talk to them?

Man in a suit: The young one is posing like he's going to dash over here.

Woman in a suit: Stop! No! No! You can't run....! 

Tamaki: She's waving her hands a lot. Ah.... Is she a fan of ours?

Yamato: This situation is a little weird...... I'll go and talk to them. You wait here.

Tamaki: OK.

Yamato: Excuse me. Hey...........

Man in a suit: Senpai, one of the young men is coming over here!

Woman in a suit: Let's explain the situation and ask for their cooperation! Let me do the talking!

Nagi: No, let me explain.

Woman in a suit: It's you......

Nagi: You two are police, aren't you? I've been watching your movements. You know what's in that bag, don't you?

Yamato: Nagi! Where have you been?!

Nagi: He is a friend of mine. Yamato, these two are police. I have something important to tell all of you.

Nagi: ...........That's all that's happened to me. 

Yamato: You were......

Yamato: the cause of all this trouble! And there's a bomb in that bag?! You don't need such flashy stories! Your face is already flashy enough....!!!

Nagi: No, no, no! All I did was buy 27 volumes of manga. I was being a good citizen and supporting the publishing industry!

Yamato: Good citizens don't get caught up in a terrorist plot when they buy manga! 

Nagi: Yamato, be careful with your words! If you keep blaming me like this, I'm going to cry.

Yamato: I'm the one who wants to cry!

Yamato: ..........Anyway. We have to be nice and slow and not scare Tama so he can take off the bag, right?

Female detective: Taking off the bag may trigger the detonator. He should stay completely still until the bomb squad can disarm it.

Yamato: Tama?! Has to stay still?! That's impossible. He won't be able to do that.

Nagi: Tamaki said that they even wrote that he is too restless on his report card.....

Tamaki:  Hey... Are you still talking? Everyone else is evacuating, and I'm getting tired of waiting.

Yamato: Just wait! Don't move and just stay there! 

Female detective: Too restless on his report card...... But, that's when he was a kid, right?

Yamato: No, he's still the same....... .....This kind of turned into a parent-teacher conference...

Nagi: When he's playing a game on his smartphone, he doesn't move much. How about letting him play a game?

Female detective: I have to confiscate your phones. It's possible that a signal from a phone could trigger the detonator. 

Yamato: Ah, hey......

Nagi: OH! I've been separated from Kokona again......

Tamaki: Hey. You're taking too long. If I do a back flip, will you look over here?

Yamato: No back flips! Hold still and count down ten seconds! 

Tamaki: Whaaat?

Tamaki: Fine..... Ten..... nine..... eight......

Yamato: Ah...... My heart's gonna jump out of my chest.....

Yamato: ......How about talking to Tama? He has a lot of composure. He won't panic or anything.

Nagi: I agree. We can help him stay calm too.

Junior detective: No. You two have to evacuate as well. We can't have civilians staying in harm's way!

Yamato: I'm sorry, but I refuse.

Nagi: We can't leave Tamaki behind.

Female detective: You guys sure seem close. Are you classmates?

Yamato: We’re in the same group.

Female detective: Group? What kind of group?

Yamato: You’ll understand when you watch TV about a year from now. We’ll do our best so that you can figure it out.

Yamato: We have friends that are also doing their best for us too.

-

Yamato: Tama, we have something important to tell you. Nagi, just in case, stand behind Tama for support.

Nagi: Alright.

Tamaki: What is it? Who are these people? Are they our fans?

Yamato: They’re with the police.

Tamaki: Police? Yama-san, did you do something bad?

Tamaki: Uh, I’m sorry. Yama-san kind of has the face of a bad guy, but he’s not a bad guy on the inside.

Female detective: We know. You guys are good friends.

Tamaki: ……...Then, what is it…….?

Yamato: Tama, I need you to stay cool and listen to me. The bag that you have on your back doesn’t belong to Nagi. That bag you have is carrying a bomb.

Tamaki: Yeah, that’s what you said before.

Yamato: The timer has already been activated. If you move too much, it can trigger the sensor and it’ll set the bomb off. You have to stay still until the bomb squad gets here.

Tamaki: ….. Are you for real?

Yamato: Yes.

Tamaki: ………

Tamaki: A--am I going to die….?

Nagi: You won't die, Tamaki. We have the solution. I'm sure both you and I will be safe.

Tamaki: ............uh...... M-my heart feels like it's being squeezed.....

Nagi: Relax. This isn't a big problem. They just need you to cooperate.

Female detective: I'm with the police. I want you to stay still and not move.

Female detective: Soon, my colleagues will be here to save you. Just like your friends here.

Female detective: I heard that they called you "restless" on your report card.

Tamaki:  Yeah.......

Female detective: They said the same about me on mine. "Can't sit still, fidgets too much." But, I need you to hang in there for just a bit more. 

Tamaki: ...... OK.

Yamato: Great. You're a good man.

Tamaki: I never thought I would see a bomb in my whole life......

Nagi: Life is full of surprises. You'll be bragging about it once you get this bag off you. Are you OK? 

Tamaki: I’m OK. My hands are shaking though.

Female detective: Thank you.

Junior detective: ........We'll see what the terrorists do after we've seized the bomb. I hope they don't do anything else.....

-

Suspicious guy with stubble: The bomb was taken by the police?! Ridiculous! What the hell are you doing?! Do you know how many years I've spent planning for this day?!

Suspicious guy with stubble: .........Does the timer switch work.....? The bomb squad hasn't gotten there yet. They haven't completely sealed off the area either.

Suspicious guy with stubble: .........We continue with the plan. The gyro sensors can still set it off. Take out the guy holding the bomb!

-

Next episode

-

T/N

“oshi” - bias or favorite member of an idol group, can be one member or the whole group, called a “box oshi”

concert ribbons are the confetti they shoot out during the last song of the night at an idol concert; usually has the idol group’s logo and can be in the image colors of the idols.

-

Please don’t use my translations without my permission.

#i7 #IDOLiSH7 #ainana #my translation

[shipaholic]

Omens Universe, Chapter 1 Part 2

Next scene, wayy shorter than the last scene. Boys getting their arses kicked by a tiny human: resume.

Link to next part at the end.

---

(last part)

(chrono)

Chapter 1, cont.

This was going as well as the last fight Crawly had been involved in, and that had ended in a boiling sulphur baptism.

The clang of holy weapon on shield rang out as though the world was a bell being violently struck with Crawly inside it.

Aziraphale’s shield held, astonishingly. The blow propelled him across the ground with the force of a tackling rhinoceros. The angel’s feet ploughed twin grooves into the forest floor. By the time resistance stopped him, he stood in two deep trenches in front of a hillock of displaced earth. He hit the ground like a sack of… something that hadn’t been invented yet. [1] His shield flickered out of existence.

Crawly wondered if it was too late to fly away. Unless the Nephilim could hurl her blade like a javelin, it seemed like the best option. His eyes flicked back to Aziraphale’s prone body. No, if he left the angel here she might decide to finish him off properly. Discorporation wasn’t so bad when you got used to it, but Crawly reckoned a weapon that evil-looking - he didn’t care if it belonged to an angel, that thing looked like a team of infernal interns had gone to town on the design - could shatter a gem.

The Nephilim turned. Her hunted eyes found his.

Crawly gave a little wave. “Uh. Hi.”

She hefted her weapon and stalked towards him.

Crawly nervously fluttered a few feet higher. She’d taken a while to properly go for Aziraphale; maybe he could talk his way out.

Maybe not. She stabbed her blade into the air. He jerked upward and circled behind her. She spun on the spot to track him. Getting her dizzy might be his best bet.

“Hey, I know how it is,” he called down. “You’ve had a really weird life.”

“My life isn’t weird, devil,” the girl snapped. “My life was fine before you showed up.” She tried to skewer him again.

He dodged. “Still, must have been tough,” he tried. “Not knowing where you came from, or why everyone wants to kill you...”

“Who wants to kill me, besides you?” The girl made several jabs which Crawly had to weave around. “Everyone respects me. I am the wisewoman of the village.”

Crawly felt a little offended. Hell didn’t even consider him their village idiot. “You what? You’re only nine.”

“I’m fifteen!” The girl stabbed at the same spot repeatedly.

She was losing focus, striking at random, but that only made her harder to predict. Crawly reckoned he had about one shot left. “Look. I don’t want to hurt you - except on general principles, I guess. I just want to collect my…” His brain failed to supply a word to describe Aziraphale. “...Angel, and go.”

“Your angel? That’s an angel? No, you are lying. Angels keep us safe.”

“That’s a popular delusion.” Crawly sighed. “Listen, you’re part angel.” No point in concealment at this stage. “Your - father, mother? - dropped you into this world and buggered off. Angels aren’t nice, human. Sometimes they’re deadbeat parents and sometimes they want you dead.” Or they wanted to kick you off their cloud and slam the gates behind you for all eternity.

The girl paused her stabbing attempts to laugh. “I’m part angel? Are you trying to flatter me? Where are my wings, devil?”

“Why’d you think you have a gold-plated egg sticking out of your skull?” Crawly was getting irritated now. “Or an eighteen-foot murderblade? Family heirloom, is it? Or did you pull it out of that?” He pointed to her gem.

“I’m tired of you,” the Nephilim snapped.

“Me too,” Crawly shot back, and dive-bombed her.

Time slowed. He saw the whites of her eyes, her mouth going round as she brought her blade around to cut him in half. Wait - that wasn’t a metaphor. Time was really slowing down. The scythe-axe curved through the air, slicing air molecules in half in slow motion. Afterimages trailed behind it like a smear on a windshield. His own body was also moving at half-speed; only his awareness was running on regular time.

His awareness said he was still holding Aziraphale’s stick.

Crawly threw his lagging body as far to the left as possible. The blade singed his ear. Heaven’s energy signature, like the world’s brightest strip-light, vibrated down his ear canal and made him feel like his head was full of bees. [2] He landed ungracefully. Before she could turn around, he righted himself and brought the stick down with agonising slowness.

Time resumed. The stick cracked the back of the Nephilim’s head.

She swayed like a drunk. Her weapon hit the forest floor. Then so did she.

The scythe-axe exploded in a cloud of golden smoke. The girl did not. She stayed face down and still.

Crawly jabbed the stick into the dirt and leaned on it heavily. He stared down at the Nephilim. He felt like a ninety-pound challenger who’d knocked out the heavyweight champion and was worried that he wasn’t supposed to.

He pulled himself together. He was a demon. ‘Supposed to’ wasn’t in his dictionary. [3]

He kept the Nephilim in his sights, like a bomb that might still explode if he took his eye off it, and edged towards where Aziraphale had fallen.

---

[1] Potatoes already existed by now, but Crawly hadn’t been fortunate enough to encounter them, or to drop them on the ground and say, “hey, this could be a great simile”.

[2] A familiar feeling. Discorporation three.

[3] Whatever that was.

---

(Chapter 1, Part 3)

#omens universe fic #omens universe #good omens #steven universe #good omens fic #crowley = peridot

[uijaejin-blog]

hello! it’s han and yo boiii -- the resident magician -- jaejin! here are jinjin’s pages: profile, bio, powers, plots (will edit a link to his plot pages once i get them finished)

his pages are relatively short so everything you need is there, but alas, do not worry i shall provide a tldr under the cut as well as a few plots! also if u’d like to plot just give this post a heart and i’ll dive into ur dms!!!! i have discord just ask for my user <3

bio//

bb jaejin was orphaned a few weeks after his birth when his powers started manifesting (things exploding when jaejin cried) and news broke out about the miracle babies possibly being dangerous.

birth mother decides to drop him off at an orphanage -- no note, no name, no anything.

the lady who owned the orphanage took him in and gave him the name jaejin. she was nice and the kids were her priority. life in the orphanage was pretty easy for baby jae except for the random exploding things since that shizz put him in a place where he couldn’t hang around as much with the other kids #lonelyboy.

baby jae was quite the eyecatching little baby, adorable with beautiful eyes that had spots of magenta in them. seeking parents were easily endeared by him and being adopted was a piece of cake.

but the thing is yo boi is a literal baby boomer, so when he would cry or be in stress, things would randomly explode and parents dont want that! so they return the poor baby.

this goes on for years on end and broke jinjin’s wittle heart ;n; , at a young age he started to question himself and feel like there’s something wrong with him.

true enough that usan has made quite the rounds on national tv, but the orphanage lady did not have the heart to give away jaejin. she believes that he needs to experience having a family and that there’s a family out there for him -- jaejin thinks otherwise, no one wants him.

that’s what he thought up until he was 6. yo boi finally gets adopted for the last time!!! WHERE ARE THE PARTY POPPERS??? WHERE IS THE CAKE?!?!?!?! a woman in her early 30s adopts jaejin and is perfect and most loving person he has ever met with 2 other adopted kids. turns out she is an advocate for the oct.1st babies and actually works for usan (then). additionally his adopted siblings turn out to be oct.1st babies too! it was the perfect family and jaejin loves them to the moon and back.

usan becomes his home and yo boi finally has a family :(

sidenotes// just a few things i thought are important to mention

so jaejin’s power is molecular speed manipulation. if you’ve watched og charmed it’s the same with piper halliwell’s. so to simplify he’s basically a remote control lmfao he can pause, fastforward, slowmo molecules with a bonus catch on fire or make things explode button. may it be living or non-living as long as they’re made up of molecules. he’s lowkey pretty much inspired by piper halliwell from charmed and gambit from xmen.

is a big baby -- 6ft tall but still a baby.

loves magic so much that this dork got a whole education at an online magic school to be a magician. i--

has a pet he loves very much his name is joe. ITS HIS LONG ASS METAL STAFF. legit talks to it and pets it, sometimes even sleeps with it. he just wants a dog!!!!! SOMEONE GIVE HIM A DOG PLS I BEG U.

he’s a happy little bean but don’t be fooled he’s really sad on the inside he just doesn’t want to show it because he’s learned that there are fewer accidents that way.

H Y P E R -- questioning it really, if the reason being is all his molecules are sped up.

he’s very into skinship and loves hugs and cuddles -- it makes him feel warm.

does magic professionally -- does shows regularly at a bar and occasionally does street magic when he can. also isn’t afraid to randomly approach usan peeps to do closeup magic. i think it’s his way of saying hello. mayhaps have asked someone in support team who specializes in weapon tech to make him smoke bombs just so he can have a grand entrance and exit.

plots// a collection of connections and plots. these are pretty vague and all i can think of at the top of my head! we can always work on it and tweak it!

a bff he can do all sorts of things with! has been there thru the ups and downs and legit fam to jinjin

other orphan/s he might have met at the orphanage. this might need a bit of more plotting since the orphanage lady doesn’t believe in sending the miracle kids at the orphanage away to usan.

someone he annoys the hell out of because he’s a dork that loves magic and constantly bothers u.

u trip holding food/drinks, fortunately, jaejin is there to pause everything and save u from a nasty accident.

jae’s having a bad day, cue explosion. u see it or hear it and u find a little balled up jae crying.

u love jaejin’s magic tricks so jaejin loves u.

someone who legit doesn’t like him? maybe because they’re jealous of his family? he accidentally did something wrong to you? etc.

u find him talking and petting his metal stick staff -- things get awkward.

go out and grab a snack at the cafe or go out partying ayyyyyyyyeeee caution: u will have an extra clingy jinjin sooooooo.

HAN RIVER PICNIC PLS WITH STAR GAZING!!!!!

karaoke time??? mayhaps???

o also! 2 of jaejin’s adopted siblings a free to rp i just didn’t have the time to apply for a connection thing yet. so if ur looking to just let me know!

THIS GOT LONGER THAN EXPECTED I AM SORRY :( THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A TLDR LMAO

#cherrybomb.txt #cherrybomb.img #usanintro #I AM SO EXCITED!!!!! #let's give a hand to joe!!!! LMFAO

[sprnklersplashes]

dead girl falling

AO3 (rated teen and up)

Veronica slams her bedroom door shut, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs, her mother’s concerned cries beginning to calm down.

‘I know exactly what you’re going through,’ she had said and Veronica nearly laughs. She doesn’t know what her world looks like, no one does. No one except her and the judgemental ghosts of Ram, Kurt and Heather Chandler, looking at her with narrowed eyes and feral grins as she looks around her bedroom for anything to use, to defend herself, to attack him with, she doesn’t know yet. By her guess, JD is right down her block. Five minutes from her house. Marching down the street with an untethered brain and a gun in his hand.

Five minutes to live, how should she spend them?

She looks over at her desk, covered with notes and flashcards and text book from a time when she thought her SATs were the most important thing in her life. She remembers telling JD when they were sitting on the wall outside the school one morning “if I don’t pass English, I’m dead” and he had laughed. At the time, she had loved his laugh, the way it sounded, the way it made her feel. Now, remembering it, she felt sick. She’ll never read the Bell Jar again.

Still, she sees a blank page and a pen and inspiration strikes. She grabs the notebook and pen off the desk and dives into her closet, locking the door behind her and turning on the light. It’s almost nothing, but it will work. It has to.

She closes her eyes and pictures JD’s writing. The sharpness of his ‘f’s and how tiny his ‘s’s are and how he never crosses his ‘I’s. It’s not easy, leaning on her knees under a nearly burnt-out bulb with her hand shaking as she scribbles, trying to form the words he’d say on the page, but she can’t stop. Even when she hears her window lock snap off, she keeps writing.

“Knock, knock,” he says. He almost sounds like he’s laughing. He’s so far from the boy she used to know, who was calm and collected, even when wrapping his arms around her with a gun in his hand after shooting down Kurt and Ram. She can only remember one time he’s ever sounded out of control; when he exploded after Kurt and Ram’s funeral, telling her about the evil fucks who made life unbearable. And even that pales in comparison to how he sounds now. “Sorry for coming in through the window, dreadful etiquette I know.” She keeps her mouth shut, pressing her back against the wood of her closet. Just keep writing, she tells herself. Just keep going. “Veronica, come on, I know you’re in here.”

She hears the tap of his knuckles against her closet door. No, not his knuckles. It’s too hard, metallic even.

“I can see the light on in there,” he taunts. The door handle rattles. “Open the door.”

“Why?” she asks, her voice small. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to tell you I forgive you,” he tells her. “Come on out and get dressed, you’re my date to the pep rally tonight.”

“Why?” she repeats. One syllable words might be all her fried brain can come up with right now.

“You know our classmates thought they were signing a petition. You should come out and see what they really signed,” he explains, his voice growing higher and higher and she hopes her parents can’t hear. She can’t drag anyone else into this mess. “After you chucked me out, I fell apart, Veronica. You should have seen me, screaming, crying, punching the wall. BAM!” On the other side of the door, his fist collides with the wall and she lets out a scream before clamping her hands over her mouth. “You should be dead for what you put me through.” Tears form in her eyes at how cold his voice sounds. She wants the boy who kissed every inch of her at 2am and told her how beautiful she is, the boy who told her he worshipped her, who fawned over her. But it’s the same boy who did all that. Just the side she never wanted to see. “But then I realised something… it hit me, you know? This wasn’t your fault. Nothing could ever be your fault, you’re too perfect for that. It’s them, those assholes. It’s our class, it’s our whole damn school. They’re the ones keeping us apart. Poisoning your mind, turning you away from me.” She hears him fall to his knees outside. “But it’s okay babe. I can fix you, set you free. Make everything the way it was.” His voice catches, and she wonders if he’s crying. “Make you love me again.”

“What?” she asks, so quietly she’s surprised if he even heard her. “What did they sign, JD?”

“A note,” he explains. “Listen, it’s good. ‘We the students of Westerburg High, will die. Our burnt bodies may finally get through to you. Your society churns out slaves and blanks, no thanks. Signed the students of Westerburg High. Goodbye’. Sounds good right?” As he reads, she tears her own note off the book, folds it as small as she can, and puts it in her bra. She hears him laughing breathlessly. “I built a bomb, Veronica. Went home and took a bunch of my dad’s explosives. Our school’s gonna be Vietnam, baby. Boom, boom, BOOM!” She can only imagine what he’s doing in her room. There’s three inches of wood between them but it feels like he’s punching her over and over. “Veronica, we can do it together. Remember what we said? We’ll burn it all down and plant our garden here, together. Veronica, I… I can’t do this alone. We started this together, we’ll end it together.” She wants to spit in his face. They didn’t start anything together except… well, they kind of did. She hears his ragged breathing. “We were meant to be together. I was meant to be yours and once we make them all go away, we can be together again. That’s what you wanted, right? To be with me?”

Not like this, JD. Not like this.

“Okay,” she whispers. “Okay. JD, I’m going to open the door.”

“You are?” he asks, hopeful and more than a little surprised

“Yeah.” She raises on her unsteady legs. Deep breath. “Just, stand back, please?”

“Sure, sure, anything.” She waits for a few seconds, slides the bolt open and takes a shaky step outside. JD is almost on the other side of the room, looking like a kid on Christmas morning when he sees her. Other than that he looks awful; his hair is completely dishevelled, like he’s ran his fingers through it, his eyes are red, his face is pale.  “Hi.”

“Hey.” He crosses over to her and she meets him halfway. He looks confused, unsure whether he shoulder be happy or sad. He caresses her face with one hand. She looks down and sees the gun in his other hand.

“I was never going to use it,” he promises.

“I know,” she says.

“What made you decide to come out?” he asks.

“I think… I think you’re right.” The words feel wrong in her mouth, but she forces them out anyway. “Everyone at school thinks you’re wrong for me. That you’ll hurt me. They just got me so confused.” She covers his hand on her face with hers and grabs his coat with the other. This shouldn’t feel wrong but it does. “They messed me up, put things in my head, they scared me. They made me forget everything about you.” He smiles as she talks, leaning into her touch. “You said you’d set me free? You’d put things right?”

“Of course I will,” he tells her, kissing her head. She wants to cry. Instead, she bats her eyes and smiles.

“Then let’s do it,” she says. “Make this whole town disappear.”

He laughs again and kisses her. She remembers at the beginning, when kissing him was like fire running through her veins, making her feel like she could do anything. She remembers when he kissed her after promising he’d change, slow and long and painful, tasting like tears and hope. Now all she feels is cold, dead weight on her lips.

She follows him out her window and down the drive, down the whole way to the school without question, letting him hold her hand and whisper to her that he loves her, all while the note crinkles against her chest and his gun sits in his pocket and a bomb in his backpack.

He takes Veronica down a back door into the boiler room. Having never been down there, she’s not sure what to expect, but it’s uncomfortably hot and the boiler looks ancient.

“Norwegian in the boiler room,” she mutters as he takes the bomb out of his bag and begins setting it up. It seems more complicated than she thought; coming in different parts he sticks together with a roll of duct tape.

“Well, my dad’s good for one thing,” he laughs as he keeps working. Veronica nods, her heart clenching in her chest. Above their heads, the rest of the students dance and cheer in blissful unawareness. Students who will be dead before they can sing the national anthem if she doesn’t act soon.

She looks back him JD. Sweat beads on his forehead, beginning to stick his dark curls to his head. She said it that first night they spent together and she meant it; he’s beautiful. Deceptively so. She leans against the wall, casting her mind back over everything. All the bad, Heather Chandler and Ram and Kurt and even what just went down in her bedroom, but also the good, the rush she felt when he’d hold her, how she cried against his chest after the three-way rumour was spread around the school, the sound of his laugh, them sitting together on his bed while he told her about his love for books, walking home from school together, their hands linked. A whole kaleidoscope passes in front of her eyes of the past month, half of it painful and ugly, half of it brilliant and spectacular.

She knows he could have been beautiful inside. She saw him be gentle and soft and kind with her. She wonders what would have happened if his mom had stuck around, if his dad was good. If she had met him before everyone convinced him life was war.

“Hey.” He stops his work and stands up. It’s only when he wipes away her tear she even realises she’s crying. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” she lies. “I just love you.” He smiles and presses a kiss to her knuckles. For a moment, she doesn’t see the God complex and the violence, the manipulation and the pleading. She just sees her boyfriend.

“I love you too.” He sits down and gets back to whatever he was doing. “I brought some marshmallows. I thought it would be fun to toast them together, you know? Should have brought some crackers too, could have made s’mores.”

She presses her shaking hand to her stomach as a wave of nausea takes over. It’s now or never.

“What was that?” she asks, looking down the hall.

“What was what?” he asks, looking up.

“You didn’t hear that?” she says, pushing herself off the wall. She wills her voice to stop shaking. “I think someone came down here.”

“No one ever comes down here,” he says, but he doesn’t sound sure. He gets up and pushes her against the wall. “Stay here, I’ll check it out.”

“No,” she protests, grabbing his arm. “You’ve got this to do. I’ll do it.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone. “If someone is down here you can get hurt.”

“Then give me the gun,” she requests. He takes it out of his pocket and looks from it to her. “I know how to use it, you taught me. You’ve got work to do here, and I’ll protect you if I have to.” He nods slowly, handing it over to her. He pulls her in and kisses her forehead.

“Be careful,” he tells her. “Don’t get hurt.”

“I won’t.” She starts walking away from him and hears him kneeling down in front of the bomb. She walks slowly, thinking about everything they could have done. Everything they could have been. Everything he promised her.

Camping, lying on the grass and looking up at the stars. Playing poker under blankets next to a campfire. Him letting her drag him around stores for summer clothes. Him holding her close on prom night as they dance and feel like they’re the only two people in the world.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, so low he can’t even hear. What he does hear is her beginning to cry. Behind her, she hears him stand up.

“Veronica?” he asks.

It’s time. She turns to face him, looking straight at his concerned face.

“Veronica what’s wrong?” When he steps forward, she steps back. Her arm feels like lead, but she raises it anyway. “Veronica-”

The bullet hits him in the stomach. She finds something ironic in the look of betrayal on his face when she pulls the trigger. An angry read stain grows on his t-shirt, spreading out like tentacles across the fabric. Neither one of them move, not even when the gun clatters to the floor. He gaps like he’s only just felt the pain and touches his hand to his stomach, wincing.

“Nice shot,” he says before he hits the floor with a bang, waking her up.

“JD!” she says, kneeling beside him, shaking him, forcing him to stay with her. “Listen to me, it’s over. It’s over JD! Which wire do I pull? How do I turn it off? Damn it which one?”

“You… you don’t need to,” he says weakly. “I never got that far. I never got it started. It won’t go off, ever.” He coughs painfully. “Unless you want it to.”

She reaches into her bra and takes out the note she wrote earlier. She smooths it out and drops it beside him. He laughs again and it sets him off coughing.

“And here I had thought you lost your taste for taking suicides,” he jokes. He keeps looking up at the ceiling. Veronica tells herself she shouldn’t go near him, but her body doesn’t obey and she kneels beside him. She doesn’t have the guts to look at the wound but nor is she strong enough to look at his face. She places the gun in his right hand, wrapping his cold fingers around the metal. “So what did you write?”

“What?”

“Can I hear my dying words,” he asks. He nods weakly towards the note she wrote, groaning in pain. “My final statement? I hope you made me sound good.”

She nods and lifts the page. It’s hard to read with tears in her eyes and her hands shaking, but she tries.

“Dear World,” she starts. “You weren’t kind to me. You gave me a father who never learned to love and dragged me around from state to state like a dog on a leash. You never let me stay anywhere and plat roots. You never let me grow. I was here for seventeen years and all I learned was pain and violence and anger. You were a war I never agreed to fight. You weren’t too kind to my mother either. You are cold and unfair, you give free passes to people who cause pain and let them relish in it, while giving no help to people who get hurt. Year by year you damaged me and now it’s all too late. I’m far too damaged for you or anyone.”

“Damn,” he wheezes. “You made me sound real deep.” She laughs despite everything. She pauses and considers continuing.

“To Veronica,” she reads. “I’m sorry I was never the love you thought I was. I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you enough. I wish we had met before. I hope you remember me. Yours, JD.” When she looks at him, his eyes are closed and she nearly panics until she sees his chest rising and falling and hears his strained breathing. She sits there in silence for a while, keeping her eyes on him, assuming him unconscious. “I love you. Damn it, after everything you did, I love you, and what kind of idiot does that make me?”

“I,” he wheezes and she jolts. He heard what she said. “I love you too… As much as I could have.” She leans over him and touches his face. His skin is almost grey now. After what seems like forever, he opens his eyes. “I wanted the world to be right for you. I never wanted you to cry again.”

“I guess the irony isn’t lost on you,” she says. “After everything, you’re the one that made me cry.” He nods slowly, his eyes drifting shut again. He coughs painfully, struggling to breathe.

“That was nice, what you wrote,” he says. “Really. Especially that last part. People are gonna think I was deep. Special. Romantic, even. Some tragic anti-hero.” She nods, not bothering to wipe her tears. “I’m going to guess the similarity is incredible.”

“Yeah,” she answers, her throat tight. Part of her wants to shake him and make him hold on. Part of her wishes there had been another way.

“You need to stick around here now,” he says. “Make things better. Clean up the mess down here.” She doesn’t want to know what he means by that, but in her mind, she thinks she knows where to start. A red scrunchie that should be meaningless. She’ll make it meaningless. “I worship you.” He must be hanging on by a thread now. Nothing he’s saying is in any way coherent.

She remembers when he first said those words to her. In the back of her mind, a small alarm bell rang, but something else took over; something in the way he was looking at her, the way he was smiling. She wanted love and got worship. Be careful what you wish for Veronica.

“Our love is God,” he says. He frowns slightly, his body tensing. A whimper escapes his mouth and it hits her; as terrible as he is, as much pain as he’s caused to her and to the school, he’s seventeen. He’s scared “Our love is God.” He wheezes in and out. “Our love is God.” He coughs some more, blood escaping from the corners of his mouth. “Our love is God.”

“Say hi to God,” she replies.

JD lets out a final, long, pained breath. His hand goes limp, the gun rolling out of it. His head lolls to the side. When she touches his forehead, it feels like ice.

She pulls her knees against her chest. The pep rally is probably still going on upstairs, but she can’t hear it. She can’t hear anything.

Selfishly, she thinks about how people will see her now. Her image has changed a lot over the past weeks. First she was Veronica the nobody, the frumpy geek who didn’t fit in. Then she was Veronica the honorary Heather who dressed like hell on wheels and went to hot parties. Then she was both Veronica the ex-Heather and Veronica who was dating psycho trench coat kid.

Now she’ll be Veronica whose boyfriend killed himself. That’s a fun way to finish high school.

She looks up and sees the half-finished bomb still sitting on the floor.

Shit, she thinks. She gets up and stumbles her way over. She looks inside JD’s bag and finds it filled with packs of what she guesses are thermals, if she was judging by his dad’s methods. She wonders what his dad will do now. Will he show up to the funeral? Oh God, there’ll be a funeral. Will he care that his son died?

She decides she can worry about that later. She puts the unassembled bomb back in JD’s bag and takes it outside, throwing it in the dumpster, pushing it down below the rest of the garbage bags. It’ll end up in some landfill somewhere, buried under everyday trash like broken bikes and chip bags. Maybe some Slurpee cups.

It’s still not over. She’s got one more part to play.

She runs in through the front door of the school, nearly falling on her face, weak as her legs are. She stumbles through the hallway, her ears ringing, her stomach churning.

“Veronica!” Miss Fleming comes down the hallway. Veronica only imagine the sight she’s greeted with, her pale faced, tear soaked student stumbling through the hallway like a zombie. “Veronica are you all right?” She shakes her head silently.

“It’s JD,” she says flatly. “Jason Dean. He’s dead. He killed himself.”

He’s dead.

She finally allows herself to break. Allows herself to let grief catch up and take over her. Allows herself to cry.

The words echo through her mind “Jason Dean is dead”. She answers Miss Fleming’s questions without much thought. “I found him in the boiler room” “He called me to say goodbye” “I looked all over” “By the time I got there it was too late”. It’s amazing how easily lying comes to her now. She nods when Miss Fleming tells her how sorry she is and if she needs anything she’s here. She thanks her without thinking and excuses herself, running to the bathroom.

She finally empties her stomach into a toilet, not that it does much good. She feels hollowed out but at the same time too full, like she’ll burst.

She stumbles out of the cubicle and makes her way to the sink. God, she does look awful. Her face is chalk-white and tinted green, dark shadows under her red eyes, her hair is a mess, tear tracks and grime and sweat run over her face.

“You know, this could be beautiful,” Heather Chandler had said once. She doesn’t feel beautiful. She looks as messed up and exhausted and horrible as she feels.

“Veronica?” A familiar voice asks. It’s not like it used to be, but nothing could take away Martha Dunnstock’s heart.

“Hey,” she says weakly, turning to face her. She rides on a mobility scooter now, a cast on her left leg and right arm and although her sweater covers it, there’s a brace around her ribs.

And it’s all her fault.

She may as well have pushed her off that bridge herself, and why did she do it? To protect the boy who is lying cold in the boiler room.

“Martha I’m so sorry,” she sobs. “For everything, for writing that note, for not telling you, for letting Heather walk over me, for how I spoke to you.” Martha comes closer, tears in her eyes too. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you,” she says. Her hand reaches out and grasps Veronica’s. “And I forgive you.” Veronica knows she doesn’t deserve it, but she lets herself take it.

“I’ve missed you,” she confesses. “I should never have gone off with the Heathers in the first place.” They were never friends to her, not the way Martha is. Was. Except for maybe MacNamara.

“I missed you too,” she says. “Movie night was so dull without you.” She chews her lip anxiously. “Veronica… I’m sorry but I have to ask… is what they’re saying about JD true?” She nods, a fresh wave of tears coming over her. Martha’s mouth falls open. “I’m so sorry.” Martha pulls her into an awkward hug, but it’s the warmest, most beautiful kind of embrace she has felt and she melts into it.

“I gotta go,” she says after a long time. “But… are you free next weekend? Maybe we could pop some JiffyPop. Rent some new releases?”

“Yeah,” she answers, smiling weakly. “I’d like that.” Veronica smiles and leaves the bathroom, bracing the hallway. Students weave in and out, some too caught up in the latest gossip that’s no doubt spreading through the school to notice her. Some see her and stare, whispering in their groups. Some offer sad smiles.

“Isn’t she dating him?” she hears one say.

She pushes her way through the crowd until she finds who she’s looking for. A small, blonde girl with wide eyes in a cheerleader uniform and a sour looking girl with a red scrunchie.

“Where have you been?” MacNamara asked, throwing her arms around her. Veronica hugs back tightly, revelling in the comfort. “People are saying that JD… he didn’t, did he?” She can only nod. “Oh my God…” Veronica pushes MacNamara off her and marches up to Duke.

“You look like hell,” is all she says.

“I just got back,” she replies. She turns Duke around, ignoring her protests, and pulls the scrunchie off her.

“What are you doing?” Veronica kisses her cheek, leaving her speechless for the first time in a while. It’s not an unpleasant sight.

“Good news kids, war is over. New sheriff’s in town,” she says. “So hang up your weapons and start playing nice. Or whatever.” JD thought the only place Heathers and Marthas could get along was Heaven. Maybe he’ll be wrong about that. “Martha and I are doing a movie night next Saturday. If you want to come there’s room on my couch. BYOB. Bring your own blanket.”

“That sounds nice,” MacNamara says. She and Veronica share a heartfelt smile, while Duke looks on, her eyes conflicted.

“There’s room for you too, Heather,” she tells her. “Should you decide to come.”

She turns and walks off down the hall. Despite everything that’s happened in the past two hours, she feels a weight lift in her chest. She feels hope. She watches the social hierarchy of Westerburg fall in front of her and damn does it feel good.

Still, it’s not over. It won’t be for a long time.

She explains it to her parents. Explains that her “friend” JD killed himself. She lets them hug her and tell her how sorry they are and if she needs anything, they’re there for her. She sleeps all weekend, re-reading her diary entries from the moment they met. Laughing at the funny parts, crying during everything else. She picks at the food her parents bring up for her. She lets them kiss her forehead. She sleeps two to three hours at a time, waking up with a start each time. Sometimes she dreams of JD and her in her bed, while he kisses her and tells her that she’s the most perfect thing he’s ever seen. Sometimes she dreams of them dancing, him spinning her around and making her breathless.

Sometimes she dreams of Kurt and Ram lying lifeless with bullet holes in their chests, of Heather Chandler coughing up drain cleaner, or Martha lying broken with empty eyes under a bridge, of the school gym going up in smoke while she watches safely in JD’s arms, of JD bleeding out on a boiler room floor.

She always wakes up screaming at those.

On Monday, there’s a special assembly held in memory of Jason Dean. His suicide note gets spread around the school like a shiny new toy. Everyone sees him in a new light, the tortured romantic hero whose heart had too much pain to bear.

She hides in the bathroom at lunch. She’s unable to eat anything, so she just sits there with her arms wrapped around herself, wanting to disappear. She listens to the girls outside; JD has become a topic of bathroom gossip now, Westerburg’s newest pin-up.

They call him Jason Dean now, which makes her stomach turn more than anything. He was never Jason to her. He hated it when people used that name for him. JD was what he called himself, and it suited him. Jason Dean is the tortured soul, the one who searched for friends in the pages of books, the perfect prince to Veronica’s princess, the boy taken too soon, the perfect image of a tragic teenager, the boy who hung out at the 7/11 to escape his sad home life and stare up at the stars. JD was angry and violent, smart, cynical but cunning. Too smart, too cunning. He was the one who used books to make himself more articulate, holding on to some degree of control. He was the one who deliberately gave himself brain freezes so he couldn’t feel anything. He was all the ugly, twisted parts that the town wanted to hide away under the image they had crafted.

Jason Dean is the boy who was too beautiful to live. JD was the ticking time bomb that was bound to go off.

“Did you see what he wrote to her?” a girl says. “So romantic.”

“I wish I had a boyfriend like him,” her friend says.

No, Veronica thinks. You really don’t.

After school, she sits on one of the benches outside. It’s cold now and all she has on her is her flimsy blue blazer. She watches as her breath comes out in puffs of smoke then looks at her blank diary pages. After pages and pages of angry scrawling followed by short entries where she wallowed in misery and pity, she finds she can’t write anything. Her mind buzzes with thoughts she can’t seem to articulate any more.

Dear Diary, she writes.

What else is there for her to say that hasn’t been said already. She hates him? She misses him? She hates herself for letting this happen? She’s disgusted with the school for what they’re saying about him? How even people who never gave him a second glance are now half in love with him, waiting for their Jason Dean?

She clicks her pen closed and open, closed and open, closed and open. She’s poured out her heart and soul, her pain and anguish, rage and grief, and now what else is there to write?

Maybe the truth.

Dear Diary, I wish he’d stayed around a little longer.

And that’s it.

#heathers ff #veronica sawyer #jason dean #heathers the musical #5000 words of just pure fuckin angst #not 100% sure about tht ending but wyd #not sure if i should tag this as jdonica or not