#Math Nerd - Move-in Day - 20

[jtl-fics]

Math nerd please?

2/26/25 WIP Wednesday (CLOSED) | Math Nerd AU

“Oops sorry, can’t hear you! The elevator is closing.” Matt interrupts while hammering on the close button. The damn thing took an age and a half to close, likely to give the drunk college students enough time to properly get in. 

“No it’s not,” Kevin argues and the universe must love Matt because just as he says that the elevator doors start to go.

“Sorry!” Matt yells with a smile that he knows must piss Kevin off considering the expression on his face as the elevator closed.

[jaikoyaki]

ꜱᴛᴀʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ

//Kang Haerin x Reader//univ!AU//short oneshot//

ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇx ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴀɴ. ꜰᴀʟʟɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ᴡᴀꜱɴ’ᴛ.

SYPNOSIS ! You’ve never missed a party. But when Kang Haerin—your best friend/fake girlfriend, and a total loser—cups your face and asks you to stay, how could you possibly say no????

WORD COUNT ! 2k TAGS ! Fake Dating, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Fluff & Tension, Light Angst, Nerd/Loser (idfk)!Haerin, Popular!reader, Subtle Jealousy. friends with benefits???, univ!au, fem!reader ofc, CUDDLESSS WARNINGS ! Mild suggestiveness, gay ahhahahah, idk how to write kissing stuff, kinda rushed but idc, Mentions of alcohol/partying,

AUTHOR'S NOTE ! ohmygoff guys i tried a different header style and i don’t like it but i’m too lazy to fix it 😭 anyway i got this idea from a tt i saw like a year ago lol

You’re sitting cross-legged in front of your vanity, lip gloss uncapped in one hand and your phone in the other. A stream of notifications rolls across the screen—texts from your friends about tonight’s party, someone asking if you’re bringing Haerin, and a single message from your ex that you’ve been ignoring all day.  

The girl behind you shifts on the bed, the soft glow from your LED lights casting faint shadows across her face. She’s still in her oversized sweater, the sleeves bunched over her hands, and her glasses are slipping down the bridge of her nose. Loose strands of hair frame her face as she watches you apply your makeup.  

“You’re really going?” Haerin’s voice is soft, almost hesitant. 

You meet her gaze through the mirror, “Yeah. Why, you gonna miss me?”  you joked

Haerin’s eyes drop to her lap, fingers tugging at the frayed hem of her sweater. “No.”  

You roll your eyes. “Liar.”  

She doesn’t answer, but you catch the way her lips press together.

Most people wouldn’t dare accuse Haerin of lying. Half the school is either intimidated by her or obsessed with her—the whole mysterious, nonchalant dreadhead vibe only adds to the appeal. She’s smart, always at the top of her class, but not in a try-hard way. It’s effortless for her.

At least, that’s what everyone else thinks.

You know better.

“awhh, you’re really not gonna miss me?” you tease, tilting your head.

Haerin’s mouth twitches, almost like she’s fighting a smile. She pushes her glasses up her nose with the edge of her sleeve. “Obviously not.”

Yeah. Sure.

The thing about Haerin is that she’s impossible to read—cold and quiet to most, yet with you, she’s something else entirely. A complete loser, really.

She’s obsessed with frogs. Like, weirdly obsessed. She has a whole album of frog pictures on her phone and once made you sit through a 20-minute Ted Talk about how they absorb water through their skin. And don’t even get started on the fish facts—Haerin has this habit of dropping random, useless knowledge on you at the worst times. (“Did you know some fish can change genders?” she once whispered during a math test.)  

And honestly—You find it kind of cute.

You twist around in your seat, setting your lip gloss down and leaning back on your hands. Haerin’s still looking down, her glasses sliding lower on her nose as she worries the edge of her sweater between her fingers.  

“You could come with me, you know.”  

Haerin scoffs, adjusting her glasses. “Why would I do that?”  

“Because,” you shrug, “it would make sense for my girlfriend to be there.”  

Haerin’s head snaps up, eyes rolling behind her lenses. “You’re really still going through with that?”  

You grin. “We already agreed, didn’t we?”  

“You agreed.”  

“Hey! You agreed too,” you remind her. “You were the one who said it’d be a good idea.”  

Haerin huffs, standing up and heading toward your closet.

The whole fake dating thing had been your idea. After your ex moved on a little too fast, you figured making her jealous was the obvious solution. And who better to rope into your ridiculous plan than your own best friend?

It worked maybe a little too well. Your ex definitely noticed, and Haerin played the part better than you expected. Too good, even. The way she held your hand, the way she looked at you like you were the only person in the room—it felt real.

Then your ex texted you she said she wanted to talk, maybe even try again. But you turned her down without hesitation and never mentioned it to Haerin.

And somehow, instead of ending the whole thing right there… you just kept going.

“Great.” You hum to yourself, picking up your brush again.

You hear Haerin rummaging through your closet, followed by the shuffle of fabric. When you glance back, you see her pulling on a blue flannel—and then… a baseball cap.

She adjusts the brim low over her face as she sits back down on the bed.

“You are not wearing a baseball cap to the party,” you arch a brow, grabbing your phone and a handful of makeup products as you walk toward her.

The girl on your bed leans back, tipping the brim upward slightly. “What’s wrong with baseball caps?”

“At a party? Everything.”

You toss the cap behind you and slide into her lap without thinking—an easy, familiar motion, like slipping into your favourite seat. Her hands instinctively hover at your waist, hesitating just for a moment before resting there, light but sure, as if they’ve done it a hundred times before.

“Let me do your makeup,” you say, grinning as you hold her chin between your fingers.

“What?” Haerin blinks, pushing her glasses up with her knuckle.

“You’ll look cute.”

“No.”

“Please?”

Silence. Which is basically a yes to her.

“Yay”

Her breath hitches when you push her glasses up onto her head. Her hands tighten on your waist—just slightly, just enough for you to notice.

You pretend not to.

She watches as you put blush onto her cheeks, her lashes fluttering when you swipe a soft stroke across her nose. When you lean in to do her eyeliner, your thumb resting lightly beneath her jaw, you feel it—the faintest tremor beneath your fingers.

“Sit still,” you murmur, leaning in to draw her eyeliner. Your left hand steadies her head, thumb resting just beneath her jaw.

Her gaze flickers up—not toward the mirror, but directly at you.

And now you’re close enough to see the gold flecks in her irises, the way her breath subtly hitches in her throat.

How is she supposed to stay still when you’re this close?

“There.” You smile, brushing your thumb lightly over the curve of her cheek. “Pretty.”

Though, you could’ve sworn you didn’t put that much blush on her…

Haerin avoids your gaze instead flicking toward the corner of the room

“Hm…wait.” You squint, studying her face. “You’re missing something.”

“Ah!...lipstick.”

Her gaze drops immediately to your lips.

You hum to yourself, twisting slightly as you glance toward the side of the couch, brushing your hand along the cushion in search of the tube. “Damn… I forgot to bring it over.”

You start to push yourself up — but before you can move, Haerin’s hands shift at your sides, her fingers brushing lightly over your waist like she’s steadying you.

You blink. “Haerin?”

Her cheeks are bright pink, her breath shaky. For a moment, it feels like time slows. The warmth of her hands bleeds through your shirt, and you’re close enough to see the quick rise and fall of her chest.

And then her hands slide up, cupping your face, her thumbs skimming over your skin.

Your breath stutters.

She hesitates, eyes flicking down to your mouth, then back up—like she’s waiting for you to stop her.

You don’t.

And then, softly (almost shyly) Haerin kisses you.

Your breath stutters as her mouth moves hesitantly at first—like she’s bracing for you to pull away. But you don’t. Your hands curl into the fabric of her flannel as she leans in deeper, her thumb brushing over your cheekbone.

“Problem solved,” she whispers.

-

You’ve always gone to the parties.

Seriously—always. If there’s a party happening, your name is on the guest. People expect you to be there. You have a reputation for it, being the life of the party, the one who knows exactly where the good drinks are, who’s sneaking into the pool after midnight, and which couple is probably going to break up by the end of the night.

Skipping a party? That’s not really your thing.

So when Haerin asks, “You’re really going?” it’s not a weird question. Of course you’re going.

Or… you were.

Your lips are still tingling when Haerin pulls back, just barely, her face hovering so close that you can feel her breath against your skin. Her glasses have slipped down her nose again, and her hands are still cradling your face like she’s afraid to let go.

Your heart is pounding. Actually, pounding might be an understatement —it’s doing backflips and somersaults and possibly breaking Olympic records right now.

“Now, Stay,” Haerin whispers.

Your eyes widen. “Wha—”

She leans in again, a soft kiss against the corner of your mouth this time. So soft you barely feel it, but it sends a hot spark shooting down your spine.

“Stay,” she says again.

You’re starting to feel dizzy. “Haerin—”

Another kiss—this time against your jaw. Her lips linger there for a second longer than they should, and you swear you feel her breath hitch against your skin.

In Haerin’s head, everything’s loud and quiet at the same time.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. It wasn’t real. Just a dumb plan to make your ex jealous. That’s what Haerin had told herself, over and over, every time you held her hand in public, every time you leaned into her side, every time someone called her your girlfriend. It was supposed to be harmless.

But somewhere between the ice cream dates and the way you smiled at her, it stopped feeling fake.

She should pull away. She should stop.

But she can’t.

Because the truth is, Haerin doesn’t want it to be fake anymore.

“Stay.”

Your brain is short-circuiting. Haerin’s hands slide from your cheeks to the back of your neck, her fingertips pressing lightly into your skin.

What the hell is happening right now??

Her lips brush the tip of your nose next —so soft it almost makes you laugh if you weren’t so busy trying not to combust.

“Stay.”

Her voice is steadier this time — more sure of itself.

You can’t breathe. Your hands are gripping the front of her flannel now, your knuckles white from how hard you’re holding on.

Her lips press lightly to the side of your neck next, just below your ear. Warm. Careful. She pulls away slowly, like she’s testing the reaction—and oh god, if your face gets any hotter you’re going to actually catch fire.

You can’t move. Can’t think. Can’t do anything except sit there, wide-eyed and very much on the verge of collapse.

Haerin tilts her head, brushing her lips over yours one more time—so soft and slow that it feels almost dreamlike. And when she pulls back, her eyes are dark behind her glasses, her cheeks flushed.

“Stay,” she whispers.

And then-

“...Please?”

Your whole body jolts like someone just hit you with a defibrillator. Haerin’s hands are still cupping the back of your neck, her forehead pressed against yours. Her lips are parted, her breath coming out as shaky.

Your mouth opens and nothing comes out. Your heart is beating so loud you can’t even hear yourself think.

“Uh—”

Haerin’s eyes flick to your lips again— and for a second, you think she’s going to kiss you again 

“Okay,” you breathe.

You don’t even know if you said it out loud or just thought it, but Haerin’s face relaxes, the corners of her mouth twitching upward.

And just like that

This was the first time you didn’t attend a party.

_______________

Your phone buzzes from where it’s balanced on the edge of the couch. You reach for it, trying not to disturb Haerin—who is currently asleep on top of you, her face buried in the crook of your neck, her arms lazily draped around your waist.

You squint at the screen. Hanni.

You sigh and swipe to answer the call, careful to keep your voice low.

“Hello?” you whisper.

“DUDE, WHERE ARE YOU?” Hanni’s voice is practically vibrating through the phone, loud enough to make you wince. You can barely hear her over the sound of music thumping in the background.

“I’m… not coming,” you murmur.

“What?!” Hanni’s voice sharpens. “What do you mean you’re not coming? Are you sick???”

You open your mouth to respond, but then Haerin shifts, her arms tightening slightly around your waist as she nuzzles closer. A soft hum escapes her lips.

And suddenly, you can't think of a single reason to leave.

“…I just don’t feel like it,” you say, your voice barely above a breath.

“You don’t feel like it?” Hanni scoffs. “Girl, Since when?”

You hesitate, shifting your phone to your other hand. Haerin shifts too, her breath warm against your neck. You don’t dare move, the same way you’d stay still if a cat had settled in your lap.

That’s when Hanni’s gaze sharpens. Her eyes narrow as she squints at the screen.

“Wait… why are you whispering?”

“I—”

Her gaze drops. Her eyes widen.

“Wait.” Hanni leans closer to the camera, her brows furrowing. “Are those—”

You frown. “What?”

“Y/N.”

“What??” you panic.

“Are those lipstick marks?”

Hanni’s eyes nearly pop out of her head. “IS THAT HAE—”

You hang up.

______________________________

hey guys...i may have a dani version of this if anyone’s interested😈😈

taglist: @arihiu @fruityg0rl @keiji-jin @hazel-tanthamore22 @yjiminswallet @idkwhatim-doinghere101 @gtfoiydlyj @loliue @Mj.Db @jkwsel @saysirhc @peranoo @syronns @angiisss @hwonnrinji @nnewjeansstuff @popasi @greenniee @imsogay504 @wintersgff @kki1ooo @sh1ba100 @tashasmywife

[rafecameronsgun]

heey so this is my very first post,i wanna knoww what you think,so please leave a comment 🙏🏻🤍

warnings: smoker!rafe,party, christian girl,dangerous rafe who ruinssss every part of reader

Always,always the bad boys…

Always, always, always, you hated boys like Rafe Cameron. The heartless bad boys. Always, always, always, it was the kind-hearted, devoted guys who swept you off your feet. The guys with the best grades in school, attending advanced math classes, constantly talking about science and how everything around us is a miraculous gift from God. The guys who ask if they can hold your hand. Always, always, always the good guys. The respectful, cute little nerds. Because you are exactly like that. You wear a bow in your hair like a little girl, if a skirt doesnt reach your knee, you put on tights... every day you read the Bible, go to church on Sundays... You only see the good in people, always helping everyone, and nothing irritates your nerves more than someone not appreciating education.

You were perfect. Until Rafe Cameron ruined you.

Your friend, Sophie, is celebrating her 18th birthday today, and she invited you to her birthday party. You ring the doorbell of a huge, white house with a gift in your hand. Loud music is playing inside the house, and through the window, you see rapidly changing colorful LED lights. You don't have time to turn back when you realize that this is not the kind of party you're used to.

"Hi there!" your friend opens the door and invites you in. The gift in your hand is quickly replaced by a red party cup. The loud music is pounding in your body, it scares you because you've never heard such loud music before. With trembling legs, still in shock, you cautiously venture further inside, walking along the wall, trying not to bump into any drunk youngsters. You don't even want to get into their line of sight. You want to disappear, but you can't be so rude to your friend. You can't leave her, you can't be so impolite.

Sophie grabs your arm and pulls you down onto a couch.

Your legs pressed together, you clutch your cup. Your stomach tightens to the size of a fist, your lungs betray you by not supplying oxygen to your bloodstream. You grip the cup tighter to hide your trembling hand. You want to get out of here, as soon as possible.

"Truth or dare?" a guy speaks in a deep, hoarse voice. You didn't think it was meant for you until Sophie nudges you. Shyly, you look up from your lap, and your gaze meets a beautiful pair of ocean blue eyes. The owner is Rafe Cameron, but you don't know that yet. All you know is that he is very attractive. His massive body stretches out on the couch, lean muscles tense under the royal blue fabric of his shirt as he lights a cigarette. "Wh-what?" you ask in a soft, trembling voice. You look at Sophie, she raises her eyebrows excitedly, waiting for you to respond.

"Umm... dare?" you say, or maybe ask, you're not sure anymore, you just want to leave. The guy smirks satisfactorily, lets out a dark laugh, and moves up on the opposite couch. Leaning forward, barely 20 centimeters separate you, and then he says, "Sit on my lap!"

His jaw tightens, and you’re sure you saw a little flame flickering in his eyes as he waits for your reaction. He takes a drag from the cigarette, and you are still frozen in place. Sophie looks at you, raises her eyebrows excitedly, waiting for me to respond.

"And what if I don't?" you ask, now a bit indignant.

"Then smoke this cigarette!" he holds the substance towards you. In the Bible, it says not to do drugs. And not to fornicate. You don't know which is the heavier sin in the eyes of God, but before you can decide, Sophie pushes you into his laps

"Have some fun, Sleeping Beauty!" she laughs at you.

You freeze. Your legs on either side of the guy, your eyes pop open, your hand accidentally lands on his chest. You feel his loud heartbeat under your palm, his warm muscles as he leans back. He casually tosses his arn onto the back of the couch, using one arm to lift the harmful substance to his mouth. And then, in the next moment, you feel something that's the cherry on top of the cake. Something hard, very hard, is trying to penetrate the gap between your legs through your pants. Your eyes almost pop out of your head, you pull your hips back, and somewhere on his thigh, you sit down. He takes a big drag of the cigarette, then blows it into your face.You cough, withdrawing. The smoke fills your face, and you try to move away. He grabs you with one arm, lifting you back to where you were. Then he looks at you with an intense, intimidating look, and you find yourself gazing at the bulge in his pants...

He chuckles softly as he pulls you forward with one hand. You let out a soft gasp when you recognize the shape beneath you, and you'd rather sink into the ground in shame for finding this appealing.

"What's wrong, scared of a dick?" he laughs loudly, and the way he looks at you... he finds you pathetic. And so do you find yourself pathetic. You'd leap off him, but then he lifts you up with one arm, standing up with you, there's a height difference of at least 40 centimeters between you. And he love it. Taking another drag from his cigarette, you remain frozen. He leans down, until his face is about two fingers away from yours. You can't move, and you certainly don't want to. Rafe Cameron fascinates you. The golden chain around his neck sways as he leans down, his ocean blue eyes and his buzzcut... perfectly fitting the "dangerous bad boy" vibe.

He raises his hand to your face, lifting your chin with his thumb. Placing his palm on your cheek, his thumb separates your two lips, and what happens next... every cell in your body trembles.

He exhales the smoke into your mouth, and now you also feel the foul, tobacco smell in your own mouth. You start to cough, and he smiles with a menacing look, causing your knees to almost buckle.

"What's your name, Princess?" he asks, then secures his strong arms around your thin, toned waist.

"I... I..." you can't answer because, the next moment, he squeezes both sides of your waist, sending shivers through your veins. You find yourself looking at his pants. You need to know if he like this situation as much as you do. And yes, he ENORMOUSLY love it.

After this, you became Rafe Cameron's mission. Every time you meet, every time he follows you, and every time he sneaks through your window at 4am in the morning to finger you, he corrupts you a bit more. And you find yourself realizing that, in just a few weeks, you've committed more sins in his presence than in your entire life. He intoxicates you at parties, demands you to smoke from his cigarette... in just a few weeks, he completely ruined you. And you fucking love him for it.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for ghosting my brother's friend after he confessed he had feelings for me?

So for context, its been several years now so I can't exactly remember all the specific details here, but my younger brother had a good friend back when we were both in high school. IIRC his friend was a year younger than most of the kids in his grade because he moved up a grade at some point, and my brother was two grades below me and technically three ish years younger (i was on the older end for my grade). So I'm pretty sure his friend is about 3-4 years younger than me.

Anyway, I knew him back when i was in high school, we had one class together and got along well, I mostly just enjoyed his company because he liked some of the same fandoms as me and we were both big math nerds (he got along with my younger brother for the same reasons). I never thought much of it at the time, all i cared was that he's my brother's friend, and I had plenty of other friends that i feel like i acted the same way around as with him.

But soon I graduated and went to college, and very very rarely he would text me, and i always thought it was a bit weird he still texted me when many of my closer friends didnt anymore, but didnt really question it.

Anyway, i genuinely cant remember if i was halfway through my freshman year of college or if i was going into my sophomore year, but at one point i was home between semesters, and i know my little brother and his friend were both in high school still. He came over to my house to play video games with my brother, which was a normal occurrence. I mostly stayed in my room that day cuz im an introvert and wasnt interested in their speedrunning and such, but at some point the kid asked to talk to me privately outside and confessed that he had feelings for me, and that it was okay if i didnt have an answer for him right away, especially because he was kind of blindsided by the fact that i was leaving for college again literally the next day and he thought he had more time.

Now, i can pretty confidently say in hindsight that it would have been a very bad idea to agree to date the kid. A college student dating a high schooler is never a good idea, especially with the age gap we had (i think i was maybe 20-21 so he was 16-17?) and besides, i had zero feelings for him (thank goodness) so even if the age gap wasnt an issue i would have said no anyways.

But here's where i think i might be TA. I was so surprised by the confession i had no idea what to say, so i didnt say anything to him that day. And then i went back up to college, and just...never got back to him about it. He texted me a few times, and I kept thinking maybe i should respond and tell him i wasnt interested, but i didnt know if rejecting him over text would be insensitive, and i had no clue what to even say, and i had higher priorities at the time. So i kind of ghosted him. Should I have at least texted him to say that I didn't think it would work out? Was it easier on him to let him figure out on his own time that i clearly didnt reciprocate his feelings if i never responded to him? Should I have told him outright I didnt feel like it was a good idea to date someone that much younger than me, especially when he was closer to my brother than to me and i didnt want to add drama to one of my brother's only close friendships?

What are these acronyms?

[twistedtummies2]

Ok so quick question. I saw an ask about Billy and how he manages to you know,… live by himself and there was a part that intrigued me.you said that a few years is close to a few decades. So here’s my question. How do you age giants in your story’s! I had this question stuck in my head for over 3 days and I haven’t been able too sleep since and it’s driving me crazy!!! Cause if Billy is around 18/20 years old, that means he’s been alive for over 30 years right? Maybe I didn’t understood it correctly or I’m overthinking it but it’s something that’s been intriguing me. Sorry big nerd at heart

GOOD question, Anon! :D When I first created Billy, among other things that have changed since his debut, I actually imagined that giants aged at the same rate as human beings. They were humongous, had heightened senses, and were more inclined toward predatory activity, but were still basically human in biology. HOWEVER, over time, I started to move away from that. There are two reasons why: first, because I've always liked the idea of giants - in general, not necessarily for TW specifically - being like a lot of other famous, mythical/fantastical races that seem to have extremely long lifespans. Two, and honestly more importantly...Billy canonically has this HOARD of treasure. He's technically about as stupid rich as someone like Kalim or Leona, it's just that in his case he didn't inherit it from some royal lineage. I think he got lucky, sometime after his parents disowned him, and, like, found this HUGE treasure in the human world and brought it to his newfound home above. And, being a giant, over time he's gathered more and more to add to it: until the events of his first big story, Billy had a bad habit of just taking things he wanted because...well...he wanted them. Yes, that IS ironic, given his hatred of thieves, and yes, that IS the point. Billy has learned his lesson, at least to some degree or another. Which only makes him dislike others who clearly have NOT learned even more. Bottom Line, if Billy aged like a normal person, then it would have taken him, say, five human years to get all that stuff by the time of "Friends in High Places." To me, that felt like a pretty hard idea to swallow. HOWEVER, with all that said, I didn't like the idea of Billy being, like, CENTURIES old, the way Malleus or Lilia are, for example. To me, that just didn't match the character. SO, I eventually reached a compromise...WITH THE POWER OF MATH! I decided that, for giants - AND THIS IS SPECIFICALLY FOR TW, NOT ALL MY GIANT-RELATED WORKS - they age three times slower than a normal human being. So, a ten year old giant would actually have been around for 30 years in human time, so to speak. SO...let's presume Billy was 18 years old when the characters first met him. (Which is my headcanon.) That means that, if you counted in human years, Billy would actually be 54 years old by the start of "Friends in High Places." This also means that, by the time any of his human friends reached a senior-level age, like, say 65 years old, Billy would still physically be no more than 21 or 22. And by the time a century in human time has passed, Billy will only be in his early 30s. This also means that, in the time since his parents disowned him - which I headcanon as being five to six years before the events of that story - anywhere between fifteen and eighteen years would have passed before any of the main characters ever even meet Billy. Not only do I buy that he could amass a hoard in that amount of human years more believably, but it also means he literally was probably around before a lot of them were even born. Take all that however you will. XD

[shi-zier]

scrapped ch. 4 for my fic

WARNINGS: Graphic violence/bullying, canon-typical quirk discrimination, Izuku Midoriya Whump.

This was a scrapped version of ch 4 for my fanfic, "to be true" on ao3. It is very different to what is posted haha.

Bakugou Katsuki didn’t know what to do. Izuku - his bestest and only-est friend, because the extras are all pathetic and don’t know what it means to be a hero, is late. Izuku isn’t normally late. It’s fifteen minutes into homeroom, and Izu had to stop in the bathroom, but that was 20 minutes ago. Even more suspiciously, Katsuki noticed, his eyes looking across the room to three empty seats - Sato, Suzuki, and Kobayashi are all absent. 

There have been many lunches spent on the rooftop with Izu alone, eating out of their respective bentos and chattering about any and everything. Those lunches couldn’t be held in the large cafeteria because of the trio extras, among other hateful students. Katsuki grumbled to himself - all those three did was make the school even worse, spewing dumb insults and dropping their lunches onto Izu. Katsuki was glad that their genkan lockers were all more closed off, and that they could add their own locks - the school wanting students to “be more independent” and responsible (ugh, he hated that word.. he could barely say it, even now!) when it came to their property. After the first few days of razor blades being tucked into Izu’s uwabaki, Katsuki asked his mom for two locks, an excuse easily given and two code locks being received. The next day, after cleaning out all of the razors and switching their shoes into their school ones, Katsuki put the locks up and whispered the code word to Izu. 

(“Why did you get the locks, Kacchan?” “Dumbass extras keep messin’ with our stuff.” “Oh! Thank you Kacchan! What’s the code for mine?” “Nerd.” “Kacchan! So predictable..”)

It was obvious who the culprits were when every time they opened their lockers in the genkan, three recognizable chuckles and hushed whispers could be heard. The first time, Izuku had gotten one foot into his uwabaki before cringing and shoving his foot fully out - his black sock carrying with it a razor blade sticking out of it. Katsuki had grabbed the shoes and dumped the contents into the nearby trash, but the nearby kids had seen and started laughing, whispering to each other about it. A trip to the nurse’s office and a bandaged foot later, they had to head to class. Only after double checking there weren’t any more unpleasant surprises in their uwabaki did they begin their day.

When the trio was laughing again, hours later during maths, Katsuki had to be pulled back by Izu when he was bristling with rage, barely seeing anything through the red haze and hearing the soft, concerned inquiries of his friend through the crack-pop buzz of his quirk. It was laughably easy to pinpoint who put the blades into his friend’s uwabaki after that class.

Beyond the genkan incident, as Izu decided to call it - even though it wasn’t an accident, but a purposeful attack - Izu has faced some things when Katsuki wasn’t around. And he refused to say what it is, or who caused it - but he would show up to class a few minutes late, with bruises and sometimes blood smeared on his clothes. But it was never enough for the teacher to notice, or care - and Katsuki was stuck trying to be there always, even if he couldn’t.

So, in conclusion, Katsuki had a hunch that something was going on – and he could guess who was involved. The teacher skipped over Izuku’s name in roll call, but took note of the missing three students aside from him. With an email sent to the office about the lateness of the students, the teacher moved on - collecting homeworks and preparing the blackboard for the lesson of the day. Students were left to their own devices of preparation, a quiet bumble of noise that filtered out of Katsuki’s mind.

If he left, would he find Izuku in the bathroom? He didn’t know what to do - but he was determined to find his friend.

Katsuki got up, pushed his chair in - something his mother would reprimand him for not doing - and walked toward the front of the classroom, stopping beside his teacher. She looked back down at him, turning to face him. 

“Yes, Bakugou?” 

“I need to use the bathroom.” He said, staring up at her - daring her to deny him, as much as an eight-year-olds stare could say.

She sighed, by now used to his direct manner, and said, “Okay. But don’t take too long, class will start soon.”

He didn’t bother with a response, simply turning away and stalking out of the room. 

Katsuki spent more time than he thought he would searching for Izuku. The halls were empty, void of any students or staff. The bathrooms closest to his homeroom were empty, and so he headed to the boys’ bathroom closest to the school entrance. It was near the genkan, but it was a few hallways away from their homeroom.

There was a distinct sound of thudding, and he paused for a moment in front of the door. Who the hell would be banging around in the school bathroom? He scoffed, vandalism was such an extras move - pathetic. But then came some shouts, insults–

“Worthless-” Thud. “Quirkless-” Thud. A cry. “Girl!” A louder thud, and a crashing sound. Katsuki tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge - locked from the inside. A loud wail pierced the walls, and Katsuki could feel his breath getting faster. He needed to get someone, anyone–

He ran to the office, sweat accumulating on his skin and sparks popping every other second. His quirk counsellor would be proud at his quick thinking, and for not using his quirk - but damn it if he couldn’t help not being able to control it right now. A crash was faint in the back, yet he knew it must’ve been louder than anything to be heard from down the hall. 

When Katsuki slammed the office door open, panting and eyes wild, the staff members stood up fast. 

“What’s wrong, Bakugo?” Miyo asked, rushing forward away from her chair, eyes searching the kid’s body for any clues. The receptionist waved over her colleagues, Kashi and Yoshida - the vice Principal and the school counsellor.

“Izu in-” He gasped, sucking in a breath fast, “bathroom, alone with bullies-” He coughed, bending a bit to support himself on his knees.

The three adults looked between each other, frowning. Yoshida spoke up, “Where are they?”

Baugou pointed toward where the bathroom is, before beginning to lead them to the area with quick steps, lack of energy be damned. They followed after him, their own stride fast, and the thudding soon became apparent. 

“Bakugou, go get Principal Akiyama.” Kashi demanded. She tried to open the door, but, like before with Katsuki, it didn’t budge. The kid was already rushing back, stumbling a bit but making it to the office quickly. 

By the time Katsuki was back with the Principal, the noises had stopped. There was an eerie silence permeating the hall, and the teachers were pale. 

“Back away from the door.” Principal Akiyama said, and the three leapt away - leaving room for whatever he had planned. With a louder voice, he said, “Boys, move away from the door! We’re coming in.”

He backed up, and ran toward the door, shouldering it. A loud bang, and the door didn’t open. He did it again, and again, and on the fourth try it busted open - opening up to a gnarly scene.

Blood was everywhere. The mirror was smashed, glass pieces scattered throughout the floor and a sink was broken, its glass chipped and water dripping out of the faucet. Sato was the furthest from the scene, hiding in the corner of the bathroom, between the stall wall and the bathroom wall itself - tears running down his face and his hands in his hair. Suzuki had a fearful expression on his own face, blood marring his uniform and covering his hands. 

Kobayashi was closest to Izuku, his back turned to the teachers, but scratch marks covered his arms and when he finally turned around, there were more tearing on his shirt and on his face.

Izuku was unconscious on the floor. 

Bakugou threw up, then, looking away and losing his breakfast. 

(His skin was purple and red, gashes over his arms, his legs, his school shorts tugged to his knees and his boxers barely on his hips. His hair was pulled and tugged into different directions, out of its usual curly waves to his shoulders and instead, knotted. Piece of green curls surrounded him, uneven and likely torn. His head was gushing blood, a gash across his forehead and a busted lip matching the deep red covering his body.

Katsuki almost couldn’t recognise him.)

��My office. Now.” Principal Akiyama said. His voice was strong, but his face was pale much like the other adults. 

“Bakugou, let’s return you to class - I’m sure your teacher is wondering where you are.” Miyo suggested, stepping forward to guide him to class. In return, Katsuki stared with angry eyes at Miyo and snarled, baring his teeth. He moved ever closer to Izuku, grabbing his hand into his own, caring little for the blood staining his hands. Miyo left quickly after, and the nurse started to clean the blood, examining the kid for wounds that needed addressing. It was silent, except for the rasping breath that escaped Izuku every couple of seconds and the rustle from the nurse’s movements.

It took a little under half an hour for everyone’s parents to arrive - including Izuku’s, whose mother had teary eyes and whose father had an arm around his wife. Three other pairs of couples - parents of the other boys, presumably, stood next to their kids. 

Inko rushed forward at the sight of the Principal, bypassing the other adults in the room. “Where is he? Where’s my little Izuku?”

The Principal brought her to the side, motioning for her husband to follow, it’s action not needed because he followed immediately. The other employees stayed with the rest of the guests and students, talking shortly with the parents about what they can regarding the situation.

“I can only bring one of you to the nurse’s office, because I still need to talk with one of Midoriya’s parents as soon as possible. You’ll be able to see him once the meeting is over, but until then, I’d suggest choosing between the two of you for who will stay.” He whispered, glancing between them.

Inko looked at Hisashi, her eyes watering but her face stern. Hisashi nodded.

 “I’ll stay and talk. I have more experience with meetings, but Inko–” He squeezed her hand, smiling at her gently. “Go check on our son, okay?”

“I’ll lead you to him, Mrs. Midoriya.” Kashi stepped forward, and the two left the front office. 

By the time lunch began for the majority of the school, a bleary-eyed Izuku was helped out of the school by his parents - hand clutching onto his mother’s with a fervour that spoke volumes about that morning. The Bakugou’s had arrived halfway through the meeting, due to a call not from the school but Inko, who whispered into her cell phone about the two boys resting together in the nurse’s office. The staff are harangued thoroughly, and the trio of students who ambush Inko’s little son got away practically scot-free. No mandatory therapy, no juvenile detention, not even school suspension. No, Inko thought bitterly, glancing at her husband who shared in her anger – all the kids received was a slap on the wrist and a lecture. 

Despite the grotesque state that the school left her child in, the official story - shared by only Kobayashi, Sato, and Suzuki - is that Izuku threatened to hurt them, and they only attacked when Izuku scratched at Kobayashi. The other parents in the room didn’t see the state of Izuku, and easily took the side of their kids - for how could they do anything wrong?

With a heavy, heavy heart, and official withdrawal papers in Hisashi’s hand - the Midoriyas headed home. It was decided that they would spend a day with the Bakugous later on in the week - giving their children time to recoup while the parents figured out how to handle the situation.

[END. Did not finish.]

[ailtrahq]

FTX founder Sam Bankman-Fried’s criminal trial for fraud resumed at 10 a.m. New York time, as Federal Judge Lewis A. Kaplan moved to conclude jury selection and hear opening statements from attorneys on both sides. Senior District Judge Lewis A. Kaplan is presiding over the case, and Assistant U.S. Attorney Nicolas Roos is leading the prosecution. The defense is being led by Mark Cohen. Here are the latest live updates from inside the courtroom on day 2:  Judge Kaplan wrapped up initial juror picks around 11:20 a.m. ET, with 12 jurors and 6 alternates selected. Opening statements begin with 40 minutes for the defendant, and 25 minutes for the prosecutors.  Opening statement from the prosecutor Assistant U.S. Attorney says Bankman-Fried lied to the world as he built his crypto empire at FTX. Only his close friends and girlfriend knew the truth about what was happening.  Prosecutor says the defendant opened bank accounts with fake records and stole FTX customer deposits through Alameda’s unrestricted access to its funds.  The prosecutor blames SBF for using FTX funds for political donations and celebrity endorsements.  AUSA ends the opening statement by saying, “There is only one verdict: Sam Bankman-Fried is guilty.”  Opening statement from SBF’s lawyer Bankman-Fried’s defense attorney, Mark Cohen, starts his statement by saying his client didn’t defraud anyone.  He said FTX’s super quick growth hampered Sam’s chances to hire risk managers. The defense blames SBF’s girlfriend, Caroline Ellison, alleging that Alameda’s funds were not hedged according to Sam’s advice.  You gotta admit, it’s a pretty bold move a defense attorney to use an example of wire fraud in his opening statement at a fraud case https://t.co/G7CbefS2uc— Sean Tuffy (@SMTuffy) October 4, 2023 The defense claims Twitter attacks from Binance, and its CEO, Changpeng “CZ” Zhao, caused a multi-billion dollar bank run on FTX. Stocks crashed, Bitcoin fell by 70%, and all companies were hurt, including Alameda – says the defense.  Cohen tries to paint SBF as a good character among the jurors, saying he’s just a math nerd who never partied or drank.  Houses in the Bahamas were bought by FTX to lure the “best and brightest” to the company.  Cohen says Ellison, Wang and Nishad will testify for the government and have pled guilty.  The jury will be asked to find SBF not guilty at the end of the trial, Cohen says and ends the opening statement.  Witness examination The defense requested to exclude photos showing SBF’s Bahamas yachts was denied by Judge Kaplan, as he believes SBF did buy expensive things.  The first witness, Marc-Antoine Julliard, a cocoa broker from London, is called to testify. Julliard traded crypto through FTX and says he thought FTX made money by charging commissions on trades.  Julliard added that he didn’t think FTX was lending out customer funds at the time. 

[arionaleilani]

— hot chocolate

a work in progress

GENRE: fiction, modern day, college era coming of age, queer romance

SETTING: a town called baneberry grove, where community means nothing and everything and everyone knows each others names.

TROPES: found family, slow burn, strangers to friends to lover

— the characters

mallory james

eighteen and freshly graduated from high school, mallory's entire life has turned upside down. every plan she's ever made is pointless. the future she was looking forward to is out of the question. nothing is how it was and it never will be again.

mallory isn't new to baneberry grove, but moving in with her older brother is different from visiting for a week or two. this is permanent. this is overwhelming and mind numbing. she has no choice but to live with it.

edmund "eddie" james

the best day of eddie's life was the day his baby sister was born. twelve years older than her, he feels responsible to keep her safe, and after already failing more than once, he's determined to make things right. his guest room becomes mallory's. his house becomes hers.

he doesn't know what he's doing. thirty years old, he has a lot of life figured out, surprisingly, but nothing can prepare him for what's to come. he might think he's ready to take care of mallory, but he's in way over his head, and it won't take him long to realize.

ellon "ellie" pohlman

ellie doesn't have a plan, and she never has. each day is a new adventure, a new challenge, a new obstacle to overcome. she's never let herself think too far ahead out of fear of failure, of letting herself down - if there aren't any plans to achieve, there's no way to fuck them up, is there?

baneberry grove community college is her only hope at finding her footing and making sense of life now that she's an adult.

beatrice “bee” gidley

a nonbinary badass, ellie’s best friend, and allergic to bullshit. math skills and eidetic memory aside, they’re a total nerd, a complete sweetheart, and they’re able to make friends with pretty much anyone.

planning to major in something math related, they’ve decided to join ellie and ash in attending baneberry grove community college, knowing that it’ll be cheaper in the long run to do their first two years of college there. although they have no expectations, they can’t wait to see what bgcc brings.

ashton “ash” blake

total fucking himbo who wants to be a dad by the time he’s 22. he works in child care and is going to bgcc for an associates degree in early childhood education. he might want to be a teacher. he isn’t really sure.

totally unrelated—is it possible to like more than one person at a time? he’s just asking. for a friend.

no other reason.

and more!

— the story

it's july when mallory james moves in with her big brother.

her high school graduation already feels like a distant memory rather than something that happened only a month ago. california is nothing but a state in the rearview mirror, and everything ahead of her appears dull, an empty replacement for the life she was supposed to live.

eddie is a familiar presence in an unfamiliar situation, and mallory loves him, but there isn't much her brother can do for her other than provide a roof over her head and a chance to heal.

she doesn't want to heal. she doesn't want to acknowledge the fact that there's anything to heal from.

it's this stubbornness that leads her to baneberry grove community college - refusing to accept that she probably isn't ready to move on, she signs up for classes, gets her financial aid, and insists to herself that she isn't there to make friends, no matter how many times people try to approach her. she may not know why she's there, but she knows it isn't companionship she wants.

enter ellie pohlman and it becomes clear that, despite what she wants, mallory has to accept that companionship might be exactly what she needs.

status

as of march 20, i am 5k words into the first draft!

as of march 22, i am 10k words into the first draft!

as of april 5, i am 30k words into the first draft!

taglist

@wildswrites @briannaswords @sarah-sandwich

[nanowrimo]

Community Fundraising Means Showing Up for Each Other

Let’s talk interdependence and donor support today with our Director of Community Fundraising, Allison Celosia. She wants you to feel empowered as a returning or first-time donor to NaNoWriMo and our broader literary arts community.

Image id: A yellow and teal graphic of a bar chart entitled “FY22 Annual Budget USD $1.4 Million.” There are four bars, from left to right Corporate Partners 21%, Community Donors 46%, Store Merch 20%, and Affiliate Income 13%.

Did you know that NaNoWriMo is story-powered by more than 8,000 individual donors every year? In fact, more than 45% of our annual revenue comes from community members like you.

This year, our annual operating budget is $1.4M… aka, we have to raise $1.4M in funding to sustain our amazing community and writing programs. (For the super math nerds, that’s more than $600K from community members alone. Whoa! That’s donor power!) 

This annual budget plan ensures that we offer our programs free-of-cost to all our participants. We want to provide everyone access to their stories, to their imagination, to the overall joy of writing and reading. Eliminating a paywall is one HUGE way we can do that for our community.

But ahh, what does that look like in context with everything going on in the world? We’re seeing news headlines about the highest U.S. inflation rate in 40 years. This means a carton of eggs is 3 times the price as it was last year, gasoline is USD $7 per gallon in some cities… the list of commodity price pain points are endless. Same goes in the U.K., Canada, Germany, India, and so many other countries where Wrimos live, work, and write.

For me as a community fundraiser, historic inflation rates might spark fear and anxiety. I might feel pressure to “do whatever it takes to get that cash.” But that’s not me! I’m an abundance mindset fundraiser. I’m a humanity-comes-first fundraiser. I’m good with reorienting our metrics to better reflect our economic reality because at the end of the day, I know that our community—myself, the rest of the NaNo staff and board, and all of our 8,000 donors and counting—are doing the best we can to invest in the good health of our creative community.

We are about to enter our fall fundraising season with two big campaigns ready to mobilize all our community resources: NaNo Prep and our Double Up Donation Weekend. In a few weeks, I will be inviting all of us to give within our means, and that is really an invitation to be thoughtful about your own financial power and privilege.

For many of us, it means donating to NaNoWriMo this year might look a lot different. 

Maybe you want to give, but feel pressured to give at a certain amount and it has frozen you from making any contribution at all. My response is, “That’s fine! Would moving to a monthly recurring donation help ease the financial commitment? That way, it’s not a lump sum donation but a smaller donation once a month.”

Maybe your donor interests lie elsewhere this year because of, well… gestures at the state of the world. My response, “Awesome! Do you want help budgeting, so you can make meaningful donations to all the causes that matter to you? We can do that!”

Maybe you are straight up mad that rent is high and groceries are more expensive, and you don’t wanna hear from me asking for money. My response, “I hear you. I’m a renter in Los Angeles, and am feeling similar pains. Fundraising can feel extractive. After reading Edgar Villanueva’s Decolonizing Wealth as a staff team, we learned that we could reframe money as a tool for building love and restoration, rather than for punishment or penalty. You’re an important member of this community, no matter your donation level or even if you donate zero zip zilch at all.

Ultimately, we hold each other accountable and we also hold each other tenderly when it comes to mobilizing donor dollars to sustain NaNoWriMo as an available, inclusive resource for hundreds of thousands of writers around the world. 

The math of raising $600,000 from community donors doesn’t go away with hard times. We need those funds to keep our programs accessible and free-of-cost. Our annual budget covers personnel expenses, technology needs to support more than 350,000 Wrimos annually, and a merchandising store and fulfillment center to provide fun writers’ tools and goodies to support us along our writing journeys.

That’s when I remind myself that we’re a community first. We can rely on each other and step up wherever we can. Maybe this is the year we move from 8,000 donors to 10,000 donors to share the work of raising funds, maybe this is the year we build out more partnership drives to build resources with like-minded organizations and friends—the opportunities are limitless when we prioritize mutual support and interdependence as ways to sustain NaNoWriMo and our entire creative community.

Stay tuned, as I continue to wax poetic and bring more community support into our fundraising efforts here at NaNoWriMo.

Allison Celosia is a storyteller, written word mostly. She edits aloud in real time and trips over their native Bisaya (Filipine) tongue. Allison is also a movement building fundraiser who centers community relationships in their work. Outside of fundraising, they are active in local labor organizing. She makes challah bread with her own home-milled flour and reads bilingual children’s books with her nephew every chance they get.

[jtl-fics]

Math Nerd AU, por favor! 🧮🤓

WIP Wednesday Game 8/16/23 (Closed) | Math Nerd AU

"That's so impressive." Matt says feeling like a whole new branch of possibilities has opened up now. "So what's my total?" he asks.

Neil blinks at him, "Your what?" Neil asks.

"My total bill?" Matt clarifies.

Neil blinks, "$52.30." he answers immediately and Matt checks his work to find that it is correct. Matt looks up to watch as Neil fills out his own receipt for the waitress and put away his own black credit card.

"You can do math so quickly in your head!" Matt compliments as the two rise from the booth that they'd been eating their meals in. Matt could admit that he might have gone a bit overboard on his lunch but the day's events had left him hungry.

[sasstrash]

Please forgive me I've been super focused on school

The Silent Queen 6; A Royal Morning

Raven woke up the same she always did - quietly. No one ever really noticed her until she was outside her room and hallway back in the castle but at school, people smiled and waved at her the second she left her dorm with Maddie. She guessed that the news of her arrival had spread and a lot of people wanted to know the daughter of the Evil Queen. Raven grimaced at the thought, she would have preferred not to be known at all. To just be a minor character in a smaller story. With a happy ending. But that wasn’t who she was, she was Raven Queen and this was her life.

Walking down the corridors to the castleteria was mostly uneventful aside from all the other students who continued looking at her and pointing things out. It was times like these that she wished she could hear. But then again she wasn’t sure how well she’d adjust to suddenly being able to hear. The castleteria itself is big and crowded with white lighting that made everything look brighter than what Raven was used to, many eyes looked over to her and Raven felt herself subconsciously tug at a lavender streak in her hair. This was going to be a long school year.

Cerise stood up and waved over at the pair of newcomers from her table where she sat with Cedar, Hunter, and a few girls who Raven vaguely remembered from yesterday who had been with that blonde- Apple, Apple White. The next Snow White, the one Raven would eventually have to poison. Raven stopped moving for a second at the thought of her destiny. Eyes wide she almost started to shake until Maddie lightly poked her shoulder, pointing to the castleteria’s food table. Raven straightened and followed her roommate and best friend to grab breakfast.

At home, she usually just walks into the kitchen. Chef made pancakes most mornings with berries from the nearby forest and honey on top. Raven always loved those pancakes, even if she had them almost every day. Raven quickly put a few slices of bacon on her plate smiling at the staff before grabbing some fruit salad and a couple of waffles and left to follow Maddie over to Cedar’s table. Most people moved out of the way to let the two girls pass through in order to get to their table. If Raven was being honest she had expected more students to run away from her when she arrived, and yet they all seemed to be completely enamoured by her. Weird. Maybe it was because she hadn’t shown up for regular school until this year, or because no one knew what she looked like (she avoided mirror phones and rarely left the castle grounds), or maybe none of them knew much about deaf people. Or maybe all three. By the time she and Maddie sat down, Raven was already exhausted, and she hadn’t even gone to class yet!!

‘Morning Rae, how was your first night at EAH?’ Cerise signed over to her childhood friend. Raven smiled at the nickname, Cerise had given it to her when they were about six, very soon afterwards Raven and Cerise began talking more over chats with their mirror phones as Cerise started elementary school while Raven began to be castleschooled. The two would work on video chats every now and again to keep sign language in Cerise’s vocabulary, (usually with a little help from Ramona too, but it’s not like they could talk about that it was a secret!) so the two stayed connected no matter where they were.

‘It’s been good Cher,’ another nickname that had come from their younger years ‘you know after the whole Headmaster situation me and Maddie set up our dorm. It was definitely different from the castle or your place’ Raven concluded before picking up her fork. She really was hungry after skipping dinner last night. As the others smiled at her she felt a warm fuzzy feeling wash over her, these were her friends, some through childhood, some through the others and they all loved her. She was loved, at least she was now but once she became, that she wouldn’t be. Her smile began to dim just a tad as she bit into her waffle. She shook it off before looking at the three girls she didn’t know the names of. ‘Oh sorry I almost forgot, I’m Raven, and you guys are?’ she asked the brunette in pink, the platinum blonde in white and the ginger with green eyes. Each one smiled at her as brightly as her friends, if not a bit brighter, they were probably princesses, Raven thought to herself before each one signed their names.

‘Briar Beauty’ The girl in all pink signed with slightly tired eyes. Raven immediately made the connection to the Sleeping Beauty Story, it took a lot for her not to frown, that was always such a sad tale, sleeping for a hundred years would mean losing the people she loved. Even still Raven could see that something else was turning in her mind, maybe she’d get to see what that was.

The ginger signed after ‘Ashlynn Ella it’s nice to meet you!’ she had the brightest smile that Raven had seen from the trio. Cinderella’s daughter her mind added in, another story with a happy ending but a tragic beginning, she couldn’t imagine losing both of her parents. Then again it was better than being imprisoned in a mirror, or being forced to dance in hot iron shoes until death, or being crushed by a boulder after falling off of a cliff. Raven’s thoughts were broken as she saw that Ashlynn was sitting very close to Hunter, who seemed to be completely focused on her, the dork had a crush, which seemed to be mutual. If Raven could speak well she would have laughed.

‘I’m Darling Charming but you can call me Darl for short’ The Platinum Blonde signed last as she gave a simple polite smile. Like the one that Raven had been taught to use for visitors and knights when she was younger. A female born Charming? She had heard of it before but it wasn’t common, most of them became small-time princesses with small kingdoms, or took over for the Charming Kingdom when the time came. It would be interesting Raven thought to see where her destiny leads her, after all, Darling definitely had the most open book story out of all of them.

‘It’s nice to meet all of you’ Raven signed before continuing ‘So.. has anyone gotten a schedule, I still haven’t’ It hadn’t been a big surprise to her though, she supposed no one had accounted for her deafness and they might have had to remake her schedule. After she mentioned it though she saw Cedar hit her head with her hand. “Ugh, I almost forgot,” she muttered to the group before pulling out a piece of paper. ‘Here Raven, I passed the headmaster and he asked me to give this to you, don’t worry he only had to reschedule two subjects!’ she finished passing the note over. Raven sent a grateful smile to her friend thank goodness for Cedar on the top of the paper a note was written with a schedule underneath. It read:

Dear Ms. Queen; first of all, I’d like to apologize for not being aware of this sooner, in the short time we’ve been given I was able to find some students to help you translate in each class. However, just in case most classes have an extra student who understands sign language. Below is your schedule, I hope you enjoy your time here at Ever After High.

Sincerely,

Headmaster Grimm

Breakfast: 6:30-8:30

Block one: Geografairy with Professor Jack B. Nimble (assisted by Cerise Hood) 8:45-9:30

Block two: Beast Training and Care with Professor Poppa Bear (assisted by Dexter Charming) 9:35-10:20

Block three: General Villainy with Professor Badwolf (assisted by Ramona Badwolf) 10:25-11:10

Block four: Math with Dr. King Charming (assisted by Ashlynn Ella) 11:15-12:00

Lunch: 12:00-12:45

Block five: History with Professor Rumpilstilskin (assisted by Madelyn Hatter) 1:00-1:45

Block six: Spellcasting and Potions with Professor Baba Yaga (assisted by Cedar Wood) 1:50-2:35

Block seven: Grimmnastics with Coach Gingerbreadman (assisted by Darling Charming) 2:40-3:25

Block eight: Art with Professor Card (assisted by Meshell Mermaid) 3:30-4:15

Dinner may be had at any time after this, as can counselling with Baba Yaga or Mother Goose. Lights out is at 10:30

Raven smiled at the schedule she only didn’t know two of the names on here. She was nervous to start her time at EAH but as long as she had good grades and a clear head she was sure she would do fine.

Notes:

I am really sorry this took so long, I kept forgetting about it because of school and COVID. btw if anyone knows how to make a master post and pin it could you please let me know? I would like to be able to do that. I also just got an AO3 account so I might post on there.

Taglist For The Silent Queen:

@virgil-is-a-cutie @justafanwarrior @bee-a-garbage-shipper @spicybelladonna @starrry-nites @tired-butterfly @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @themagicmistic @a-star-with-a-human-name @futursworld @pepelachanel @me-with-a-z-and-double-the-e @wolf-for-life

@iz-bell-saiah @thebookwormfairy @fantasiame

[steve0discusses]

S5 Ep 15 Pt 1: The Gang Gets Lost in India

Ah, back to Yugioh classic. Sort of. We’re going into the second filler arc before Bakura, which I have been told is kind of nonsense. And youknow what, from the first scene--this is the first scene by the way--yeah I can see the nonsense.

We got Yami cosplaying as the Chrysler building, we got Yugi saying WTFWTF, we got...this thing?

This thing tells us “Join my game, Yugi!” and then the demon just kinda bounces.

K, bye, I guess.

(read more under the cut)

Waking up from this nightmare, Yugi reveals that he has outgrown his good pajamas. Or maybe he just overused them like I did to my favorite pajamas during quarantine (which, not gonna lie, I hand sewed my favorite pajama pants back together 2 or 3 times like they were the Velveteen Rabbit. Quarantine pajamas and me were like best buds for a year there.)

RIP Yugi’s good pajamas.

It’s fine. I’m fine.

I can get used to Yugi in his normal ass old man pajamas without any cute stars on them. I can accept this. He’s getting older. So much older that for a second I thought he was learning Hebrew, by the looks of his books on his counter. I thought...wow, is Yugi actually attempting to learn a language spoken around the time of ancient Egyptians???

But uh...I went a searching and unfortunately that’s not Hebrew, and if that is a language, I don’t know what it is. Pretty sure it’s just random marks because this show has to be translated in so many languages. Man. For a second there that looked like really sneaky world building, but nah, Yugi is still kind of a dumbass who has yet to attend a solid year of school.

Also, I got to take in this mustard yellow as if I’ve seen it for the first time.

It has strong building blocks energy. It’s...so much yellow and it’s extremely the vibe of that one set of animal crossing decorations that I have because it’s a very common recipe, but, can’t figure out for the life of me how to fit into any room.

What am I supposed to do with these, Nintendo? Other than recreate Yugi’s Muto’s haunted game store/house?

Like I live in the Bay area and we have wild painted houses so you can see them through the fog (back when we...still had fog, RIP California) --but this is a little much. This is such strong Protagonist energy but as a house.

Also, I’ve don’t think I’ve brought this up before, but like...Yugi is loaded, right? Like he’s way too good and humble to ever say he’s loaded, and they sort of make it seem like he’s not (when compared to Seto Kaiba) but damn, this location of his real estate sure is something. That and Grandpa’s tiny shop seems to run on a constant deficit and his family just doesn’t care.

We flash back a bit to Gramps sneaking out, and Yugi is like “oh great, my only Father figure I ever talk about is getting a backpack together and just...leaving without any notice, huh? Without telling me you were going to go? Didn’t think that would maybe be a little off putting?“ and Gramps is like “Yes?”

Like Gramps nearly died going to an amusement park a few episodes back so I can see why Yugi is a little bit concerned.

Down the street at a little town lottery, Joey is getting further into gambling (I don’t know what those little street lotteries are called, it’s in a lot of anime--but kinda looks like mom lotteries for moms.)

I’m not sure why India is on Joey Wheeler’s bucket list, seems a little random, but he went to Pegasus’ country, after all and that’s barely even a country.

Joey going nuts on a lottery machine instead of going to school was pretty peak filler, so I’m not really minding this stuff so far.

And then, just to spook me, check this out:

I can’t believe they even let them back into a classroom. In my nerd school, if you missed one too many days, you were sent to the bad schools to be someone else’s problem. But in Yugi’s case...that either IS his school or...Yugi is failing International School, which is just a thing he’s allowed to do, because, as I said before, this kid has got to be loaded. Even Seto Kaiba was like “I’m not spending money on this school anymore. That outfit is like 50 bucks a jacket.”

Youknow, I have seen all the other characters knock on Tea’s choice of cute ass monsters for the last 5 seasons, and she has never once changed them out. She is holding onto this scary seraphim thing with the many wings like every child with their first Pidgey. She does not care.

Also how is this thing cute?

like the front of this orb has a face with hearts on it but like...it is kind of remarkable what Yugioh decides is cute. Magma golem: not cute. this thing? This thing that looks like it’s a chibi version of the last chapters of the bible and will sound the trumpets of the second coming? So cuuuuute.

Tristan used to be the Janitor/hall monitor/square archetype. Like hell he can walk around with that 00′s R+B soundtrack.

Joey appears in order to get us the hell out of school, and the art team retires this school background for the rest of what I assume is this entire series.

Goodbye school. Maybe you’ll come back with Bakura. Which would be weird, since rumor is that arc takes place in ancient Egypt.

On their walk home, Tea lets out in an inner monologue that no one could hear that after 5 straight seasons of his BS, she’s sick and tired of Pharaoh being the center of attention all the time and she needs a freakin break.

TBH, as she was thinking in her head like “Pharoah is just so freakin much” Yugi switched over to Pharaoh and was like “WHATS UP TEA, THINKING ABOUT ME??” and I thought for a split second maybe he read her mind with his Pharaoh powers.

And like...maybe he did? Seems like a thing he can just do but chooses not to tell anyone about. I mean would you tell anyone? I wouldn’t.

So, unlike Miho in Season Zero, who at least had the decency to try to take her Mother to Australia, Joey Wheeler has wisely decided that the 3 other ticket holders will not be the 3 other members of his immediate family. That would have been the most awkward trip between Serenity, his mother he hasn’t really spoken to in 7 years, and his absent father who was written out of the series for being a raging alcoholic. They would have not even made it to the plane.

Instead he’s gonna take the ghost in Yugi’s head and call that an adult (two tickets in one, really). It’s honestly not that bad of a plan, since his only other father figure, Grandpa, is MIA, and his only other, other father figure, Roland, charges like 300 dollars an hour and wants stock options and health insurance.

And honestly they should have taken Roland because he’s one of their best plane guys.

So they take the smallest little Amelia Earheart plane in the world, going from Japan to (checks map) India...which 2 times the distance this plane can go and it crashes...which is exactly what would happen if you took a teeny tiny plane over the Himalayan mountains without refueling that thing.

We call this a magical incident later in the episode, but this is just basic math.

So, fun fact, (and probably why I discuss planes so often on this blog) two of my Grandfathers were pilots (well, three, since my grandmother remarried another pilot), which sounds like a crazy coincidence until you recall that their generation was in WW2 and we just shoved children in planes for 20 years and called that normal.

Anyway, to save on travel costs, my engineer Grandfather built his own plane out of junkyard parts, which, as you can imagine, is a living nightmare, and it was held together by like duct tape and gasoline (which at one time used to be cheap). Tempted God every day that Howls Moving Castle touched the sky.

And while I only know it from photos since I wasn’t exactly born yet, it looked exactly like this plane. So looking at this, all I can think is...yeah...that’s what you get for flying to India in a tin can car. To this day I cannot trust any plane of this size.

So, they climb out of their wreckage virtually unscathed and into familiar Californian territory.

At least Joey thought about bringing a tent.

It’s interesting how our cast has become so accustomed to this that they’re not even all that shell shocked. It’s just another day in the life.

So next time we shall find out what India has in store for us. Or if we’re even in India...because again...feels a lot like this BG team doesn’t do any research into their landscapes and every place feels a whole lot of the same. But...at least they didn’t put any Arizonan mesas in India.

[oldguardhc]

Old Guard hc #197

Really want some modern au where Nile and Noriko are best friends growing up.

You got the math geek and the Art history nerd. They never have any classes together after elementary school but they still sit with each other at lunch everyday. They will bitch about the subject the other is great at. “God Nile, history is so boring. Why do you do this to yourself?” And “Geometry was solely invented to torture me. WHY DO I NEED TO DO PROOFS?!”

They spend so much time at each other’s house that their family will literally see one and be like “where’s Nile?” Or “Noriko?”

Whenever Noriko’s family is eating sashimi, she texts Nile. “Mom went to Costco and got salmon. You want?” And Nile responds, “Be there in 20.” Nile uses more wasabi than Noriko’s dad and it always comes up.

Noriko and Nile literary do so much shit together. They are both awful encouragers. When Nile was practicing for her driver’s license, Noriko grabbed Nile’s mom’s car keys off the hook and they went on a little joy ride around the neighborhood. They were grounded for the next month but Nile passed on the first try soooo...totally worth it.

They move to Paris together. They get into FIT and do a study abroad program. Nile goes for an Art History and Museum Profession degree while Noriko goes for Fashion Business Management (it was the closest to fashion her parents allowed).

There they meet the rest of the gang.

First time Nile meets Andy, the jokes don’t stop.

“Noriko loves Andy’s.”

“Vanilla has always been Noriko’s favorite.”

“She used to get all the toppings.”

“That one didn’t even make sense,” Noriko hisses, glaring at Nile to shut up, shut up, oh my god Nile, shut the fuck up. Nile grins.

The day Nile interviews for an internship at the Musée Marmottan Monet, Noriko is waiting in the lobby, ready to play Ms. Reassurance. Nile comes out 75% confident and after a couple drinks, she’s 100% sure she got the internship. Two weeks later, there’s an email with an offer and round seven two of drinking begins.

Living with each other isn’t always perfect. Nile always sets off the smoker detector, Noriko leaves piles of papers on every surface, they always wanna shower at the same time, all the mugs are always in Noriko’s room. But 90% of the time? They’re happy to see each other and are more than down to chat for an hour (or four).

[words-writ-in-starlight]

for the ship headcanon meme: star trek pairing of choice, #16-#20?

Bet you thought I forgot about this ask meme, fuckers!  And you’re right, I did, but the beauty of forgetting is that sometimes you remember.  Anyway, as always, it’s Michael/Saru Hours, lads.

16) When the zombie apocalypse comes, how do they cope together?

This is not a headcanon, but I have this fragment of a fic idea in my head based on this question, and that fragment of a fic idea is like...some kind of case fic where Discovery finds a planet being ravaged by Basically A Zombie Apocalypse and Michael and Saru get stranded there.  Ideally, for my personal enjoyment, I would want to slot it into the plot of s1 as early as possible, because the best/worst dynamic there would be Michael choking with guilt and yet still one of the finest scientific minds in Star Fleet, and Saru unable to keep himself from pressing on the fresh bruise of loss, unable to trust her, and the two of them still working together flawlessly.

Because that’s the thing, isn’t it?  Even when they can’t stand each other, they argue like a choreographed dance, and when the chips are down and they have to think on their feet, they still move like Georgiou’s trusted right and left hands.

Anyway.  That, but make it zombies.

17) When they find a time machine, where do they go?

If Michael came into possession of a time machine that actually allowed her to reliably control where she went and let her come back, I think she would sit down and try to do the temporal math to figure out how to avert the war.  I do not, however, believe that Michael and Saru, survivors of a fair amount of timeline hopping already, would actually risk going back in time.  I think they would both talk about wanting to go back, specifically because they know the other will talk them out of it, but I don’t think they would do it.

That being said, I would love a lotus eater prison AU where Michael and Saru are trapped in an idyllic dream of a world where the Shenzhou was never destroyed, Michael was being prepared to be promoted off the ship as a captain, and Saru was preparing to take her place, ft a lot of sadness about Georgiou and Michael and Saru working together to find a way to wake up.

18) When they fight, how do they make up?

Michael wears Raised On Vulcan tattooed on her face, sometimes, and especially when she defensive or guilty--if she’s angry with Saru, she’ll tell him exactly what she thinks he’s doing wrong, to his face, and it takes her a long time to learn that she should pull that punch a little more with people she cares about.  On the upside, that means that, when she feels like she’s been out of line and unnecessarily harsh, she’ll walk right up to Saru and tell him, blunt as anything, what she did, why she thinks it was wrong, and that she understands if he’s angry with her.  

This was initially…a weird experience for Saru on several levels, if he’s being honest.  A lot of his experience with people is colored heavily by the fact that very few people know how to deal with Kelpiens, and that means that he’s either handled like glass or he puts in the work to be treated like any of the other crew members. He’s not really sure how to deal with someone who handles him with exactly the same unemotional ruthlessness as everyone else, and it’s disorienting, and it makes him angry that it’s disorienting, because that’s what he wants, but also, Michael is sometimes an asshole.  She’s the first person that he’s ever argued with on the regular—really argued, a push and counterpush, shoving each other away from the science console and pulling out ad hominem attacks in a way that visibly infuriates Michael’s Vulcan training.  But quite frankly, they never felt like they needed to apologize for those early fights, under Georgiou.  It was part of the ship dynamic, to have Burnham and Saru trying to take strips off each other in a very professional and scientific manner.  As long as Saru never took a cheap shot over Michael’s upbringing and Michael resisted the impulse to go full xenoanthropologist on Saru’s species, they were very good at fighting.

(Personally I am of the belief that Michael only tried to pull the I understand where you’re coming from because of what your species makes you after the mutiny, after she was trying to be nice.  Before then, she expected Saru to perform to her standards and fuck the details.  Half the reason he’s so coldly furious with her over it is because he knows she’s trying to manipulate him, because if she wasn’t, she would never play that card, because no matter how nasty their fights were, she always fought with him as a person, not as a Kelpien.)

19) Where do they go on their first date?

There’s a fic that bounces around my brain every time I watch Discovery, and it’s about Michael and Saru having a first date (sort of) very late at night, when they’re both having trouble sleeping.  It’s not an arranged date, they’re not even really friends even though they’ve gotten past the stage of Michael letting Saru flay her alive for her guilt, but Michael is having trouble sleeping and she’s not a prisoner anymore, so she wanders, and Saru, frankly, sleeps like hypervigilant garbage since the Binary Stars, so he has a preferred hiding spot on one of Discovery’s few observation decks.  As Lorca likes to point out, they’re not a goddamn pleasure cruiser, but Star Fleet never built a ship without at least one view panel, not even their top-secret war machine.

Michael is avoiding people—she hates being asked why she’s awake, gets tangled up in her automatic shame over not being able to control her emotions.  It’s the middle of the “night” by ship standards, but Discovery seethes with activity around the clock, especially since Stamets pulls regular all-nighters when he gets really entranced and often has to be peeled away from his work by Local Exasperated Doctor Hugh Culber.  So she ducks into the parts of the ship that she usually doesn’t go, the places that are more for socializing and are empty at this hour, the places that aren’t often used, the places that are quiet.

She finds the observation deck dim and blessedly silent, with the stars spreading infinitely outside.  The room is faintly lit by the nebula off to the starboard bow, the one they’re using to hide their signature while they run some necessary repairs.  It’s a practical use, but it’s also beautiful, every window in the ship glowing with warm reds and golds, and Michael still finds the stars soothing after all this time, and so she drifts up to the glass with the vague plan of sitting down and spending an hour or two there in an attempt at meditation.  She only sees Saru, leaning back against the edge of the viewing window, when she’s close enough to nearly trip over one of his long legs, stretched out in front of him.

Michael, of course, apologizes, and turns to leave.  Saru never really does have a good answer, as to why he stops her.  But he doesn’t ask any questions about why she’s awake and she doesn’t ask any questions about what he’s doing here, and instead they sit in relative quiet for a while before Saru sits up straighter and offers Michael, again, a small bowl of fruit. It’s not familiar to her, this time, but he says it won’t hurt her, that it’s sort of like a lychee, and she believes him.  It leaves a bit of thin red juice on her fingers when she bites into the first one, and he recommends eating them whole to avoid it while she ruefully sucks the juice off her thumb.  It’s good—less sweet than she expected.  Saru settles next to her in the middle of the window and sets the bowl between them, and she asks how he always manages to have fresh fruit, and he admits that he can wring a lot more out of the replicators since he never gets meat. Somehow it turns into—talking.

Michael is startled to realize, around the hour mark of murmured conversation, that she might have literally never just talked to Saru before. It’s—nice.

(Because I’m physiologically incapable of letting things be nice, if I wrote this fic there would be an immediate sequel of Observation Deck Chats Redux, featuring them doing basically the same thing but after Michael gets back from the Mirrorverse.  Michael leans against Saru’s shoulder in a way that she would never, if she hadn’t been awake with nightmares and grief for pushing three days, and she tells him about the Empire like she’s confessing her sins, and they talk quietly about the ghost haunting their ship in the shape of Empress Philippa Georgiou. It’s not nice, but not for lack of kindness.)

20) Where do they go on holiday?

I think Saru and Michael would have two very distinct kinds of “holiday” and they have two destinations accordingly.

The first kind of holiday is Nerd Holiday, in which they find an unexplored planet and appoint themselves to the away team—everyone else on the away team is wryly aware that they are, essentially, third-wheeling a date, but Discovery has watched this whole situation unfold and honestly the popular opinion is that it would actually be easier to deal with a little bit of PDA than the current Very Professional Mutual Adoration Show.  Local Red Shirt Absolutely Agonized By The Very Correct Ten Inches Of Space Between Her Captain And First Officer, Reports As They Come.  Michael and Saru are pleasantly unaware of this and are having a great time arguing over whether they need another sample of that plant if it’s just a different color.

The second kind of holiday is actual fucking shore leave.  They both prefer planets or stations with a large variety of species—Saru is uneasy with being the center of attention among strangers, and since he stands head and shoulders above a decent percentage of the Federation, it’s hard to avoid unless they’re in mixed company; Michael never quite recovered from the perpetual sense of disjoint when it comes to being around all humans or all Vulcans, so being in a place where everyone is different makes her feel less out of place.  Neither of them like big crowds, so they’re the tourists who immediately leave the usual Tourist Area and find somewhere else to be, which has its ups and downs.  The first time they get into trouble on a totally safe colony planet because they decided to go exploring, there’s a beat of them looking at each other and silently agreeing that they won’t be telling the crew about this, because there’s already a running ship joke about what trouble magnets they are and they do NOT need to feed anyone more material.

[orangepanic]

I saw this “100 OTP questions” by @the-moon-dust-writings and figured I'd procrastinate:

1. Who loves flower crowns more?

Neither of them really, but Asami might make Iroh wear one just to laugh at him.

2. Who is the one who likes to cuddle?

Iroh. Asami likes it, too, but he usually initiates.

3. Who has awful taste in music?

Honestly, both of them. Asami likes terrible dance music and Iroh likes obscure combinations of horns and bells and stuff from different cultures.

4. Who is the meme lover?

Asami thinks they’re funny. Iroh doesn’t quite understand.

5. How did their second date go?

Iroh tried to take Asami somewhere very fancy, but the wait was too long. They ended up making out in a shadowy doorway down the street and missing their reservation entirely. Iroh was mortified, but Asami dragged him around the corner to a low-key noodle shop that has since become their favorite restaurant.

6. How many children do they want/have?

Asami thinks about three. Iroh, as many as Asami will agree to.

7. Who hides the weapons?

Iroh hides weapons for Asami around the house so she’ll always have something on hand. In a drawer in the kitchen, on her nightstand, etc. He knows she can take care of herself… and he stashes weapons for her anyway. Asami rolls her eyes but secretly thinks it’s sweet.

8. Who is the better dancer?

Asami. She likes dancing, and learned formal dancing in school. Iroh can’t dance at all, having skipped out on all his lessons as a child after bribing his instructor. He thought dancing is boring, but likes dancing with Asami and lets her lead.

9. Do/Did they have a theme wedding?

No. They quite deliberately have a very normal wedding, including cutting out a lot of the more stuffy Fire Nation customs because Iroh doesn’t want Asami to feel out of place not having any family present.

10. What do their parents think of them dating?

Hiroshi Sato is livid, and actually tried to have Iroh assassinated from prison. His little girl, marry a firebender? A prince of the firebenders? Iroh’s parents are more accepting. Izumi initially thinks Asami is too young and gives Iroh a hard time about how quickly he got serious, but quickly comes around when it’s clear Asami is very mature for her age. Within a year Iroh’s parents are both hounding him on when he’ll make it official.

11. Are they a super sappy couple?

They are that couple everybody hates.

12. How did they get together?

They meet during the Equalist revolution, but don’t get together until long after. Iroh has a crush on Asami almost immediately, but spends forever sitting on it thinking it wasn’t the right time and trying to be friends until one day he just kind of slips up and kisses her. She kisses him back. It turns out Asami liked him, too, but she isn’t great at reading people and had no idea he was interested.

13. Who asked the other to get married?

Iroh just kind of blurts it out one day.

14. Who stays up too late and makes stupid jokes?

Asami is the night owl. Iroh makes the bad jokes.

15. Who is the nerd?

Oh my god, both of them. Asami is more of the classic nerd. Iroh is more of a dork.

16. Who knows the most obscure facts?

Iroh.

17. Who makes the other a flower crown?

Two questions about flower crowns out of 100?? Changing this to who is more dominant in bed. Asami.

18. Who likes to read?

Iroh. They both do, but he’s much more into it.

19. Who bothers the other person while the other person reads?

Asami. She has the shorter attention span.

20. Who tutors the other?

They both would in different subjects. Asami is better at math, physics, etc. Iroh is better at philosophy and languages.

21. Do they have similar taste in movies?

No. Asami likes gory slasher films and lots of action. Iroh scoffs and thinks they’re dumb. Asami, in turn, thinks his period dramas can be kind of boring, and refuses to count documentaries as movies. But there’s a healthy overlap in things like Vikings and Game of Thrones.

22. How do their personalities complement each other?

Asami helps Iroh lighten up a bit, drawing him out of his shell, and gives him an anchor and a sense of home. She’s more social than he is, and a lot of her friends eventually become his. But she’s also quiet enough and serious enough that she doesn’t tire him out and can feed his need for downtime. Iroh, in turn, loves seldom but deeply, and gives Asami the kind of fierce, unconditional love and stability she needs. He’s also genuinely interested in her projects, is smart enough to follow most of it, and is one of the only people who can occasionally beat her in Pai Sho. They have a lot of fun together just being nerds.

23. How do they tell everyone that they are going to be having a kid/adopting a child soon?

They don’t have to tell anybody. It’s all over Iroh’s face like a big neon sign.

24. Who has better fashion sense?

Asami, but not by much. She’s more up to date with trends, while Iroh’s style is clean and classic.

25. Who will punch someone out if they are rude to their partner?

Hoo boy, both of them. Do not go there.

26. What songs do they sing together in the vehicle?

Neither of them sing in the satomobile. Iroh has a decent voice, but he’s a bit private about it. Asami mostly hums.

27. What other couple would your otp get along with?

Iroh quickly becomes BFFs with Bolin. Asami and Opal aren’t quite as close, but they like each other’s company and have fun as a foursome. They also get along quite well with Pema and Tenzin.

28. Who likes to prank the other?

Iroh tries more often. Asami’s pranks are more successful.

29. Who is the one who loves to take pictures?

Iroh, though generally Korra is the picture taker in the group.

30. How would they react if they found out they were soul mates?

Iroh raises an eyebrow. “Hmm.” Asami only shrugs. They both already knew that.

31. Where would they live?

They like Republic City and decide to stay downtown, first in an apartment and eventually a larger townhouse.

32. What type of dragon would they own, if they could have one?

Whichever one Iroh made friends with. Asami is a bit wary of animals and would need him to convince her it was safe.

33. If they were both vampires, what type of vampires would they be?

The kind that live in a beautiful house with perfect collections that took hundreds of years to make. Iroh has first editions of everything in a giant library, arranged in a complex system only he understands. He’s working on his 14th language. Asami has invented artificial blood and doesn’t miss sunburns. Occasionally she’ll throw one of those big fancy vampire balls just so they can both get dressed up. They’re pretty happy.

34. What would they dress up as, for Halloween?

They once went as Lady Tienhai and the last king of Mo Ce because picking something obscure and historical was the only way to get Iroh into a costume.

35. Can they name each other’s favourite food?

Kind of. They are both really into food, so picking a favorite is hard. But if the question is can they order for one another, absolutely.

36. Do they have pet names for one another?

Asami sometimes calls Iroh “General Hotstuff” when she’s teasing. Iroh sometimes calls Asami “sex pretzel” when he’s 1000% sure they are alone.

37. How do they cheer each other up?

Asami is more of a gift giver. She’ll show up with Iroh’s favorite take-out or make him something in her workshop—anything to make him feel special and valued. Iroh is all about quality time, and will swing by Asami’s office to haul her out on surprise dates. He also gives great hugs.

38. Do they show a lot of PDA?

No. Iroh is very uncomfortable with PDA, especially when he’s in uniform. Asami follows his lead.

39. How old were they when they got together?

Asami was 19-20, Iroh 24-25.

40. Who is the one that would bring the puppy home?

Iroh, 100%. He’s such a sucker.

41. Can they do yoga couple’s poses?

Yes, though Asami is the only one who really tries.

42. What is their song?

They don’t really have one.

43. What does their room look like?

Asami moved in with Iroh, so it’s very basic. White walls, perfectly made bed, a neatly organized desk in the far corner by the window. He’s a total minimalist, having spent most of his adult life on a ship. Asami added a very fluffy comforter in *gasp* a color and lots of pillows.

44. Who would be the one to kill zombies while the other keeps them grounded?

They’d take turns, and at some point Asami would turn it into a contest.

45. Who makes the other breakfast in bed?

Iroh. Asami is a terrible cook.

46. Who loves kids more?

Iroh.

47. Do either of them have a crazy ex?

Not crazy, but Iroh and his ex are not on good terms. He doesn’t like to talk about it.

48. What are their favourite colours?

Asami, purple. Iroh, black. He gets annoyed when people get him so much red stuff.

49. Who likes to cook?

Iroh. He fired Asami from the kitchen, something they are both grateful for.

50. Who is the forgetful one?

Asami.

51. Does either of them know how to fight?

Have you met these people?

52. What do they do for Valentines Day?

Iroh would probably plan something elaborate for them to go out. Asami would plan something sexy for when they got home.

53. Who swears more?

Asami, at least out loud. Iroh mostly swears under his breath.

54. Who has the better comebacks?

Asami. It’s not even close.

55. Who would start a fight with another parent at a bake sale?

Probably Asami, unless it was about the kids. If anyone comes for Iroh’s kids, they’d better hide.

56. Who reads buzzfeed?

Asami.

57. Who is the hopeless romantic?

Iroh, hands down.

58. Do either of them know how to do a handstand?

Asami can manage it.

59. Who can rap better?

Asami, though Iroh is the only one who actually listens to rap.

60. Do either of them want to go sky diving?

Asami would love to. Iroh laughs. “Been there.”

61. What do they usually text about?

Some version of “I miss you” or random pictures of stuff. They generally only text when Iroh is away as they’re both busy during the day.

62. Who is the dramatic one?

Asami has a shorter fuse. Iroh is more ridiculous when he loses his shit.

63. Is either one confrontational?

Not really.

64. What is their favourite cuddle position?

Asami will lay on top of Iroh on the couch like a sandwich. It’s the only position she seems to be able to nap in.

65. Who are their favourite musical artist(s)?”

See above about terrible taste in music.

66. What are their parenting styles?

Iroh covers a lot of the basics. He sets a schedule, makes lunches, tells bedtime stories, is more likely to help with the homework. Asami is the one who gets them around and does most of the interacting with teachers, other parents, etc. They share things fairly equally.

67. Who would be the more laid back one?

Iroh.

68. Who listens to more vulgar music?

Asami.

69. Do either of them have secrets even the other doesn’t know?

Yes. Asami can be secretive about some of her projects, both out of an abundance of caution but also because she likes a big reveal. Iroh keeps some past relationship stuff close, and will occasionally read a steamy romance novel for “tips.”

70. Who is their go to couple for a double date?

Bolin and Opal

71. Do they tip the waiter/waitress on their date?

Iroh tips very well.

72. How do they work out a fight?

Asami yells. Iroh yells back. One of them storms off. The other one waits about half an hour then goes to find them, usually with an offering of food. There are hugs. Somebody cries. Then they finally talk it out before falling asleep together.

73. Who brings home an illegal pet?

Asami. She is less likely to have a pet, but if she does, it’s going to be a weird one.

74. What side of the bed do each of them sleep on?

Iroh is on the side by the window because he likes to get up with the sun.

75. What is their favorite photo of them two together?

There’s a photo Korra took at the beach where Iroh has Asami thrown over his shoulder right before dunking her in the water. This is the picture he takes with him when he’s deployed.

76. Who takes longer in the bathroom?

Asami.

77. Who has more songs on their ipod?

Iroh. If you can call them songs.

78. What movie did they first see together?

Iroh took her to Last Days of the Sun Warriors. She fell asleep. He said the book was better.

79. What do they like to see each other in?

Asami thinks Iroh’s butt looks great in jeans. Iroh got Asami a red silk robe from the Fire Nation and likes to see it fall off.

80. Who makes jokes during inappropriate times?

Iroh.

81. At what age do they discuss the possibility of children?

Mid-20s, though they don’t have them until a little later.

82. What do they love about each other the most?

Iroh likes that Asami is tough and smart and a problem-solver. Asami likes that Iroh is kind and brave and has a strong moral compass.

83. Who is the one that sees the big picture, while the other focus’s on the small details?

They are both big picture people, which is sometimes a problem. Of the two, Asami is probably better at details, but she’s also forgetful.

84. What would they write on their partner’s social media’s for their anniversary?

Asami would probably put up a picture of them and say something brief but sweet. Iroh doesn’t really understand social media and would just paste a heart-eyes emoji.

85. Who is bad at math?

Iroh. He’s not bad, per se, but Asami is very, very good.

86. Who googles everything?

Asami.

87. Who does stuff on impulse?

Both of them in different ways. Asami is generally more flexible. Iroh usually has a plan but makes big decisions completely off the cuff.

88. How do they comfort each other when they are helpless to do anything about the situation?

Lots of physical touch. Iroh will kind of just wrap himself around her in one giant, whole body hug. Asami will spend some time cursing out whomever is causing the issue, then let him lay his head in her lap and give Iroh a good head scratch or massage.

89. What is an inside joke they have?

There was one time they had sex in Asami’s office at Future Industries, so occasionally she’ll drop things like, “feel like coming by the office?” with a suggestive eyebrow waggle. Iroh is, predictably, very embarrassed. Also interested.

90. Who makes the other smile with almost no effort at all?

Asami: *exists* Iroh: *smiles*

91. What is their favourite holiday?

New Years is a big deal in the Fire Nation. Iroh loves his family and likes going home, and Asami has grown to love it almost as much.

92. Who is the one that is calm and collected while the other is angry and destructive?

They take turns. Both of them can have quite a temper when pushed too hard.

93. What is their favourite board game to play?

They’re both big Pai Sho fans, but can get into any kind of strategy game. Nobody really likes to play them though, they're too good.

94. Who accidentally sets something on fire?

Asami. Iroh hasn’t had a fire accident since he was four.

95. Who has the car ready while the other is robbing the store?

Asami. She’d rob the store, too, but no way is she letting Iroh drive.

96. What artist/group did they go to for their first concert?

Iroh booked a private box at the Republic City Opera, thinking that was an impressive thing he should do on a date. It turns out neither of them like opera, and by the end they were both making fun of it.

97. Who sleep talks?

Asami. Iroh thinks it’s funny.

98. Who is the more social one?

Asami, by a long shot.

99. What are their karaoke songs?

Neither of them would really sing karaoke, but Iroh cannot hold his liquor like at all so if he ever got really plastered Asami might be able to drag him up there. By which point he’d be too far gone to have an opinion on the song and would sing just about anything.

100. Who would get up on stage and make a fool of themselves just to make the other laugh?

Asami.

[argylemnwrites]

Live And Die This Way

Pairing: Colt Kaneko x MC (Ellie Whitnall)

Book: Ride or Die (post book 1)

Word Count: ~5900

Rating: R (language, brief 30 diamond content - N*FW, referenced violence)

Summary: How do you create the life you crave? And what is the cost?

Author’s Note: Written for @rodappreciationweek Day 4 - MC. This is a direct companion piece to my Colt entry “He Knew” and will reference many of same events covered there, but it does stand on it’s own. This piece was envisioned first, with my Colt piece kind of springing forth from the future I saw for those two while crafting this fic. In addition to the content mentioned in the rating, content warning for infidelity.

Ellie didn’t know how to feel about college. Not so much about her coursework - that always made perfect sense after years of AP and honors classes. More about her “college experience” or whatever cliche phrase described how it was to just live as a freshman in Turren Hall on the west side of Langston’s quad.

She liked her independence. She could eat what she wanted, go where she wanted, do what she wanted. If the end of her senior year had been more traditional, she probably would have been buzzing from all of her freedoms. She had her first taste of alcohol. She made out with a cute boy at a house party. She ate ice cream for dinner and ordered pizza with Rebecca, her roommate, at midnight. She was enjoying herself.

But her new friends acted like these little things were the pinnacle of independence, and it was hard for her to relate to that. Not when she’d experienced the thrill of pushing the speedometer up over 100 MPH, felt the power of an engine revving at 5000 RPM, and jumped from moving vehicle to moving vehicle at highway speeds.

She liked her new friends and classmates well enough, but she never talked to them about who she’d been in Gramercy Park. She didn’t bring up the MPC and her brief time with them. She certainly never mentioned Colt.

It’s not that she disliked college, she just was struggling to put it all together, the person she was in New Hampshire with the person she’d become in LA. On the weekends, she found herself just going on drives, trying to reclaim that thrill, that rush. She found a county highway about 20 miles from campus where she could floor it and feel the speed settling deep into her bones. She always went on these trips alone, even as she started seeing Chris more and more often. He wouldn’t get it.

Chris wanted to officially be her boyfriend. She’d sensed it for months, but he finally asked her one Saturday in April. His roommate had gone home for the weekend, so Ellie had spent the night in his room. She liked Chris well enough. He was a chemical engineering major, he was cute, and with his short, curly, blond hair, he looked nothing like either of the guys that had turned her life upside down one year earlier. 

The trouble was any connection between them was superficial. On paper, they seemed so similar - both of them had been valedictorian, science and math nerds, only children raised in protective Catholic households. But he only saw “Langston Ellie,” he only liked that part of her. He didn’t have this drive for something more - more thrilling, more adventurous, more stimulating. So she kept things between them casual, and when summer break rolled around and she made her way back to LA, she didn’t feel any guilt about trying to track down Colt.

He must have gotten a new phone with a new number as part of his plan to “lay low” and evade arrest, and Kaneko Auto Shop was still a boarded up shell, scorch marks visible along the walls. But she eventually found him, less than 36 hours before she was leaving, of course. It was almost fitting, seeing him at the sideshow, the place where she’d first met him. She wasn’t sure if he saw her, but she spotted him right away, standing off in the shadows, talking with a couple of men, wearing that same leather jacket.

At some point, he must have noticed her, because he couldn’t just let her dance with Darius and Riya. Instead, he’d wrapped his arm around her waist, and it was like stepping into a time machine, as if no time had passed, as if they’d seen each other last week, not last year. Riding back to his new place and falling into bed with him was the first time she’d felt truly awake in ages.

Any illusion that sex with Colt just seemed better than sex with Chris because he’d been her first and she hadn’t had a point of comparison went straight out the window. It wasn’t that sex with Chris was bad, but with Colt… it was raw and primal and intense, and those were not ever words that could be used to describe Chris. Chris in bed seemed scared he would hurt her, so he just tried to coax her to the peak of pleasure. Colt wanted to stake claim, to possess her, to drive her higher and higher. He knew how strong she really was, and it made her heart soar.

She knew she was heading back to New Hampshire, and that tonight with Colt would be just that - one night. It’s why she didn’t ask him about the Brotherhood. Hearing about his inevitable ventures into bloody vengeance would just lead to a fight, and there was little point in ruining this little moment in time with that. This was a reprieve, not a promise, and that meant some things were better left unsaid. 

So the sun came up and Colt drove Ellie back to her father’s home, but not before adding his new number to her phone. She packed up her suitcase and tanked up the Shokai Fourier and made the drive across the country, back to Langston and a world of academics and being a “good girl.” But now she had another outlet. Anytime she craved that thrill, she would text him. Sometimes it was a bratty little insult. Sometimes it was a barely clothed selfie. But he always responded. And as she started sophomore year, it felt like she might be figuring out a way to merge the two sides of her life.

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

Texting Colt became a new form of an adrenaline rush when she somehow stumbled into a relationship with Chris. She knew it was wrong, that Chris didn’t deserve the way she was treating him. Being kind of dull was not failing. But the problem was that “Langston Ellie” didn’t have a reason not to date him. So over Valentine’s dinner, he became her boyfriend. 

It was a balance, that thrill that came from sneaking out for a drive or shooting Colt a dirty little text versus the pit of guilt that sat in her stomach. She tried to justify it to herself when the guilt got to be too much, telling herself that nothing physical had happened with Colt while she and Chris were together, but that was a flimsy excuse.

The issue was that she felt like herself, vibrant and happy, and the more she pushed the boundaries on what was acceptable in her personal life, the more she excelled elsewhere. She was setting the curve in almost all her classes. Her research was going well enough to get approved for the Summer Scholars Program, which came with a generous stipend. It’s like she had to be doing something “wrong” to feel complete, and since stealing cars wasn’t an option at the moment, this is what she settled for. She wasn’t sure what that said about her as a person.

But she kept living her double life for months and months until one day in October, things all came to a head. She got a call from a number with a 310 area code, but she didn’t recognize it, so she let it go to voicemail. When she finally got a chance to listen to it an hour later, after her meeting with Dr. Frisch, it felt like the world might just swallow her whole. Her father was too young, too healthy to have a heart attack, to need bypass surgery, to be in the ICU.

It had taken her 15 hours to email her advisor, request a leave of absence, and receive approval, email Dr. Frisch to withdraw from his research group, and to pack up her room in the off-campus apartment she and Rebecca were renting and load up the Shokai Fourier. She spent far too much of that time breaking up with Chris.

It hadn’t even occurred to her to let him know about Dad until he’d texted her after dinner time, asking if she was still on for an ice cream run to Gilly’s. What followed was him coming over, with hours of talking, of him trying to calm her, tell her everything was going to be fine. She’d gotten frustrated, asked him how he could possibly know her dad was going to be okay. It was messy and awful, their first and last fight, all culminating with her kicking him out and sending him back to his apartment when he dared to suggest she was too emotional to be making these decisions in the moment.

The drive to LA was a long one, filled with tears and regrets. It felt like her fault. She’d put him through hell senior year, only to leave him all alone to flit off to college, where she had just coasted by, chasing down the high of adrenaline in destructive ways. Instead of stopping at a motel to rest, she drove the 3000 miles basically straight through, resting for a few hours in a parking lot in Iowa, but otherwise relying on Red Bull and coffee to get her through the drive. She’d gone to drop off her stuff at her father’s place, but when she arrived, she couldn’t bring herself to unlock the door. Even though the latest update from Dr. Ginde had been that her father was improving, she couldn’t bear to go inside, to see memories of him and her mother plastered everywhere, all by herself.

So she’d driven over to Gramercy Park. The shop was open now. She knew that was the plan, but it was still nice to see it with her own two eyes. She locked her car and went inside, taking in the bustle and the activity, cars hoisted on jacks, an air compressor hissing in the background. If she had recognized any of the people working in the shop, she almost could have believed that no time had passed.

Some guy with dreads went to go find Colt for her as she stood there, feeling both out of place and at home at the same time. Finally, he emerged, grease streaks on his t-shirt and jeans, his hair just a little shorter than she remembered. He took her into his office and listened as she told him what happened. No questions, no platitudes, no infantilization. Just understanding and comfort, and when she told him she didn’t know how to go home alone, he’d just told her to follow him back to his place.

Staying with Colt was like falling back into a former life. She hung around the garage, reconnected with Ximena, and went out racing and to sideshows. She visited her dad every day in the hospital and then in the rehab facility, taking notes on all his doctor’s instructions and researching new, heart-healthy recipes for them to eat as she got him settled back in at home. And even though she and Colt never talked about it, suddenly they were together, with her toiletries tucked into his medicine cabinet, a second towel hung in the bathroom, and her favorite yogurt stocked in the fridge. It all felt comfortable, and she felt at peace with her life for the first time in a long time. She could get that adrenaline rush she craved so badly as she drag raced through the streets, getting to know Colt’s new crew, and she wasn’t hurting anyone to do so. She felt happy, so as October bled into November, she emailed her advisor, preparing to extend her leave of absence.

She never thought Colt would object to her plans to stick around, but he was cruel and livid when she told him she wasn’t heading back. At first, her anger flared, righteous and indignant. How dare he try to tell her what to do. She’d thrown her clothes that were scattered around his place back into her duffel bag and headed straight to her father’s home. He didn’t comment when she tossed her bag into her old bedroom, just pulled out the Parcheesi board and sat down at his usual spot at the kitchen table.

The next morning, she awoke to the smell of bacon sizzling, so she made her way into the kitchen.

“Dad, you can’t have bacon anymore. It’s not on your ‘safe foods’ list.”

“I figured whatever sent you here yesterday might warrant an ‘Ellie special,’” he said with a shrug. “Besides, it’s turkey bacon.”

She bit her lip as she sat down at the table, wondering if she should risk stressing him out by bringing it up, but he crossed the bridge first as he set her plate in front of her.

“I suppose you were staying with that boy with the yellow GT?”

She shook her head. “No, the boy with the motorcycle.”

Dad just let out a sigh and gave his head a little shake. “They’re all still wanted criminals, Ellie. The statute of limitations hasn’t run out. But I suppose you already know that.”

“Dad…”

“Look, I know you’re an adult, and you can make your own choices. But I hope you know what you’re doing here. If you get caught up with him in something again… I won’t be able to spin it that you were just a kid who got roped into the whole thing by a dirty cop who convinced you that you could be an informant and help him.”

“I know what I’m doing, Dad. I’m not stupid.”

“I know you aren’t. That’s what scares me the most. Oh well, you’ll be back at Langston soon enough, I suppose.”

It was Ellie’s turn to sigh as she filled him in on how her plan had been to stay, to work in LA and to help him recover, at least for one more semester. When she finished, Dad just stared at her for a few seconds, eyes narrowed, before he spoke.

“So, let me see if I have this right. This… Colt told you to go back and finish your degree?” As she nodded, he just shook his head. “Never thought I would be on the same side as a little punk.”

She shoved her chair back from the table, abandoning her breakfast. “Dad, it doesn’t matter whose side you’re on, because it doesn’t matter what you think or what he thinks. This is my choice.”

But as the days ticked by, and her dad seemed stronger and stronger, she had to wonder if she was doing the right thing. She’d gotten upset because it felt like Colt was trying to decide what was best for her, but as she thought back on their fight with a clearer head, that wasn’t really a fair assessment. He wasn’t trying to control her; he was trying to push her. At the end of the day, he liked her strong and sharp, ready for the next challenge. And while being back in LA felt good and right in so many ways, just hanging around after her father’s medical emergency wasn’t the way to go about it. She wanted to come back here, but she needed to do so the right way, as an active choice, not a passive situation that just happened.

So she went back to school and worked her ass off, taking summer classes to make up for the shitty schedule with not enough engineering credits she had to settle for after she registered late for classes. She was a semester behind now, but that was manageable. She lost her research position, but that was okay. She didn’t need to build her resume anymore. She had a job lined up already.

When she signed papers granting her 50% ownership of Kaneko Auto Shop, everyone in her life thought she was crazy. Rebecca had pestered her for months with info about engineering firms that were hiring and master’s programs. Riya had told off Darius for telling her she was being foolish, but as soon as he left to go get them takeout, she’d told her she must be out of her mind to legally tie herself to that Kaneko boy in any way. Her father just shook his head and went into his bedroom, closing the door with a thud. But Ellie didn’t care. It was the first time she’d felt fully alive in almost five years.

It was invigorating, to finally be living a life that was 100% her choosing. She wasn’t held back by her father’s restrictions, her peers’ perceptions, her own perfectionistic expectations of herself. She was just… Ellie. She wasn’t bound by anything or anyone. All her fears, concerns, and worries were nothing in the face of all the possibilities ahead of her. Ahead of them.

Colt had always seen her. It was why she’d been drawn to him in the first place. He didn’t treat her like a child that needed protecting. He respected her agency, her autonomy, her abilities. He respected her opinions and suggestions, and slowly but surely, they were able to expand and grow the shop and their territory. Not too fast, as that would attract the attention of both rivals and law enforcement, but steady enough that people had to take them both seriously. He wasn’t just coasting on his father’s reputation, and she wasn’t some sheltered little girl who had slept her way into this world. They proved themselves, and they were thriving. And finally, Ellie felt like she was living the life she was supposed to be. She felt like herself, fully realized and alive.

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

It’s not that she and Colt lived in some bubble of pure domestic and professional bliss. They disagreed about how aggressive to be when rival crews inched in on their turf, about whether a drop would be worth the payout, about whether or not the new mechanic was trustworthy enough to drive on their next big job. And when they disagreed, they disagreed. It was never violent, but it was loud and passionate. They pushed each other time and time again. It was just how they worked things out, and they always were able to come to an understanding in the end.

Ellie never questioned their arrangement until she was pregnant. In their four years as equal partners, both personally and professionally, she’d never had any qualms about the life they were living. It was exciting and thrilling, but their risks were always calculated, or so it had seemed. They were smart about things. It’s why their territory had nearly doubled in size over those four years with only one misdemeanor arrest for petty theft for their entire crew over that time.

But when she heard that heartbeat over the sonogram, Ellie knew that she had to change the way she thought about risk and reward, because risks that were acceptable to take when it was just her and Colt, conquering south LA one block at a time, where not okay when there was going to be a child at home depending on them. Colt, on the other hand, seemed to take the opposite approach. He was hungrier and more ambitious than ever. He wanted to move more volume, expand to new neighborhoods, to grow bigger more quickly than ever.

“This will be our legacy. All of this, rebuilt and passed on to our kid,” he told her over and over again. And any of her pleas to slow things down, to take a step back, were met with annoyance and frustration. “If we slow down, we won’t be able to keep what we have now. Others will take notice and swoop in. It’ll be a moment of weakness.”

He worked nearly around the clock, always trying to strike a better deal, to find a better score. Part of her had even worried that he would have left her at the hospital with just her father if he got word of a deal on hot merchandise while she was in labor. But when the contractions came, he was at her side the entire time. He was antsy and impatient, sure, but most of that was probably due to having to spend 26 hours straight in a confined space with Dad. Over the years, that relationship had never evolved beyond frosty tolerance.

When Margot Graciela Kaneko came into the world, 6 lbs 4 oz and screaming like a banshee, Ellie swore she saw Colt wipe a tear away. She hadn’t seen him cry since that awful night in May nine years ago, when he’d had to watch his father sacrifice himself. When she forgot all about how horrible it was that Colt had kidnapped and planned murders because he’d looked so broken and human, not at all like a ruthless kingpin wannabe who had no moral code. With all their shared daddy issues, it had felt cruel to bring up her concerns about his moral compass when his world had just shattered to pieces.

For his part, Dad cried openly when she told him his granddaughter’s name, forgiving the use of Kaneko as her surname when he realized she shared her middle name with the abuela she would never get to meet. For a moment, they felt like a normal family. Not a detective father who had to turn a blind eye as his daughter and her boyfriend ran one of the ten largest auto theft crews in LA. Just three adults who loved a little baby girl more than anything.

Colt was always a loving father. He adored Margot, and she wanted for nothing. Toys and clothes and books littered her nursery in their new two bedroom house, a home security system installed with door and window alarms, motion sensors, and security cameras. He took pride in every developmental milestone she reached and bragged about her constantly. The office at the shop was covered with her drawings, and when she started 4K, her first attempts at writing letters and numbers joined her colorings and paintings.

He just didn’t seem to have any desire to strike a work-life balance. It didn’t exactly surprise Ellie. They had both thrown themselves into that shop for years, their only goal and purpose. For both of them, work had been their life. But now, she felt like they needed to handle things a little differently. More cautious, less aggressive in their growth schemes. It was a point of disagreement between them regularly.

“I don’t understand what your problem is, Ellie. I’m building this for us. For her. Since when are you fucking timid about growing the shop?”

“It would be nice if you could eat dinner at home with us more than a couple of times a month.”

“Just bring her for dinner with the crew.”

Round and round, over and over. Her asking him to take a step back and spend more time with Margot while he dove deeper and deeper into his work, acting like bringing Margot into that world as a preschooler was a solution. At times it felt like her own personal Groundhog’s Day, her living the same day with the same damn fight time and time again.

She’d been venting to Mona one afternoon in a coffee shop as she waited for a contact to bring them info about a new shipment that should be passing through over the weekend. It was a little risky, combining her work with a meeting with Mona now that she worked as a consultant on grand larceny cases for the LAPD. Initially it had been a condition of her parole, but it ended up suiting Mona just fine. She was a free-lancer at this point, so she only took the cases that she wanted, and she was well paid for it. Not as well-paid as Colt and Ellie, but without the overhead and without the risk. 

“He just is so single-minded, and he doesn’t understand why it bothers me.”

Mona laughed at that. “He’s Kaneko’s kid, Ellie. I don’t know what else you were expecting when you picked him over Logan.”

It was strange to think about it like that. She knew that Logan and Colt had both wanted her back then. And for a while, she and Logan were happy. But while Logan had tried to shield her from his world, Colt had encouraged her to immerse herself further. He saw potential in her, and it had been so liberating, being seen as a woman, not a child. And once it came out that Logan had only pursued her at Kaneko’s instruction, she’d just been done. She felt like a pawn and a fool, hurt and violated, so she’d turned to the only person she could count on to be blunt and direct, to respect enough at least for that.

“Have you heard from Logan at all?”

Mona shook her head. “I think he made it to Detroit, but that was years ago.”

“I hope he’s doing okay,” Ellie said as she took a sip of her coffee. Mona just raised an eyebrow, but didn’t push that topic any further. She was right. The traits that drew her to Colt in the first place were wrapped tightly with the ones that frustrated her now, all of which were proof that he was very much his father’s son.

“So other than Colt being an ass, how’s life?” Mona asked, drawing Ellie out of her nostalgic musings. She pulled out her phone and showed her a video of Margot cruising around on her new balance bike. For better or worse, this was the life she had chosen, and for all its frustrations, she knew she still had plenty to appreciate. She wouldn’t have wanted a different life, anyway.

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

Margot was heavy in her arms as she rang the doorbell, praying that he wasn’t working tonight. He really wasn’t supposed to be working nights at all anymore - his cardiologist’s recommendation as part of numerous lifestyle changes - but Ellie knew he would still pick up an overnight now and then. She’d never really felt like she was in a position to question his judgement given her own career choices.

She rang the bell three times before she saw a light flip on the hallway. She let out a sigh of relief. She hadn’t wanted to have to pick the lock. A few seconds later, the door cracked open. Her father looked disoriented, his hair sticking out in numerous directions, wearing blue plaid pajama pants and an old Honor Roll Parent t-shirt.

“Ellie? What’s going-” he started, but dropped his voice to a whisper when he noticed Margot passed out against her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Ellie nodded. “We just need a place to stay.”

He opened his mouth, clearly wanting to say more, but after a second, he just nodded and stepped aside, letting them pass through the door. He followed a few steps behind. Ellie could feel him staring at her as she carried her daughter into her old bedroom, tucking her in on the far side of the bed.

“I need to go grab our stuff from my car. Can you stay with her? She’s going to be confused if she wakes up and isn’t in her bed.”

Dad just nodded again, sitting down on the edge of the bed and running his hand soothingly over the back of his granddaughter’s head. When Ellie returned with the duffel bag and tote bags she managed to fill, all she knew she could carry at the same time as Margot, she dropped them on the floor. Anytime she had come to stay before, she’d only brought a couple days worth of clothes, so she knew the amount of luggage she’d brought was going to attract attention. He was a detective, after all.

“How long are you staying?”

All she could do was shake her head, willing herself not to cry. She felt lost and heartbroken, but more than that, she felt stupid. Stupid for ignoring everyone’s warnings about Colt, for thinking that she could have the thrills and excitement of that life without causing serious harm, for having a child with a man who could order the murder of someone without batting an eyelash.

Dad stood up and crossed over to her, wrapping his arms around her, and she couldn’t hold back anymore. She started sobbing into his chest, feeling like a child all over again. But the pain kept pouring out of her, and her father just took it all, even after everything she’d put him through over the past 13 years. And when the tears finally slowed, she let him guide her to her old bed and tuck her in right next to her daughter.

The next week was filled with rounds of Candyland and Guess Who, drives out for ice cream and donuts, and trips to the park with Abuelo. All things that Margot loved, things that would hopefully keep her happy and from asking questions that Ellie wasn’t ready to answer. How do you tell your four year old that her Daddy, the man she thought was the best on the planet, had decided to make some phone calls to end a man’s life, so they couldn’t live with him anymore? Ellie just wanted to put off that conversation for as long as possible.

But Margot was bright and curious, and all the distraction in the world wasn’t enough to make her forget her home and her father. Ellie stumbled through it the best she could, telling her that Daddy had done something very naughty that he thought was the right choice, but that was actually something really bad.

“Is Daddy in a timeout?” she asked as Ellie tucked her in, her brown eyes wide with wonder.

“Kind of, sweetie.”

“How long do Daddy’s timeouts last?”

“A long time, Margot. A very long time.”

She nodded, like it all made sense to her now. Ellie knew she couldn’t keep her from Colt forever, but until she felt like she had her feet under her again, this was probably the best approach she could hope for. She dropped a kiss to her daughter’s forehead and flipped off the lights, gently closing the door and making her way into the kitchen.

The Mancala board was set up this time. While the days were filled with fun activities for Margot, the nights had been a series of board games, just her and Dad. Just like the old days. He hadn’t asked her many questions. Ellie suspected he was so glad she had left Colt, that he didn’t want to push his luck and say the wrong thing that might send her running back to him. But tonight she was going to have to broach the subject.

“Dad, can you watch Margot tomorrow night?” she asked as she dropped her stones down, one by one, working her way around the board.

“Why? Where are you going?”

“Probably to the shop or our house. I’m going to have to talk to him at some point.”

“He’s… been riding by on that... bike of his,” Dad ground out, glancing up across the table, his eyes flitting nervously. Like she hadn’t known that was the case. She knew exactly what his bike sounded like. Besides, she knew it would be his next step. She had dozens of voicemails and unread texts from him.

“I know.”

“Do you… what I mean is… what do you want me… are you… Ellie-”

“We’re done, Dad. I don’t want to see him.” She interrupted his ramblings, and glanced up from the Mancala board at him. His shoulders visibly relaxed at her words. “But we have a kid together. I can’t just pretend he doesn’t exist.”

He let out a little hum as he contemplated his next move. “Ellie, what happened?”

She shook her head. No way he wouldn’t feel obligated to turn Colt in if he heard that he’d ordered Shaw’s shanking. “I really can’t tell you.”

“If he did something that-”

“-I still own 50% of the shop, Dad. Plus, he’s Margot’s father. This is going to be hard enough on her without him behind bars.”

She could practically feel her father’s stare, attempting to bore a hole in the top of her head as she kept her eyes on the board. She knew he wanted to know more, wanted to say more. Finally, he said, “I know you don’t want to hear this, but if you’re looking at a custody battle, him behind bars would be very helpful.”

She turned her head up and frowned. “I’m not going to throw him to the wolves. It won’t make things better, trust me.”

“Honey, you say that now, but when custody battles get going-”

“He’s not gonna fight me for custody,” Ellie interrupted. “Not as long as I let him see her every now and then.”

“How can you know that?”

“I’m gonna let him buy me out of the shop well below market value. That’s always been his priority, anyway.” She’d been mulling it over in her mind, and it seemed like her best move. They both got what they wanted. As long as she promised not to do what his mother had done, to take his kid and move as far away as possible, he would probably agree. He got his father’s legacy and a relationship with his daughter. She got the chance to shield her daughter from the harshest realities of the world where she was born. It was win-win.

She knew she was screwed professionally at this point. She’d spent the nine years since college in a job that would do little for her resume. It was a small price to pay for her daughter’s safety and well-being, though.

“Hopefully I’ll be able to get enough to get a little apartment for us, at least until I figure out what I can do for work-” she started explaining, but Dad reached across the table and grabbed her hand, cutting her off.

“You’ll both stay here as long as you need.”

“Dad, you’ve already dealt with so much of this drama. I’m not going to ask you to house us indefinitely.”

He shook his head, still holding tight to her hand. “I know you could do it on your own if you had to, Ellie. You are bright and resourceful and so determined when you need to be. But I’m your dad, and this something I can do to help you out and keep you safe.”

Tears welled in her eyes at his words. His desire to protect her from a harsh world was still there all those years later. And while it had been the bane of her existence as a teenager who thought she could handle everything that life would throw her way, his attitude felt different now that she had Margot sleeping in her childhood bed, a direct result of her own attempt to protect her child.

“Thank you, Dad,” she choked out, forcing a smile as a couple of tears spilled over onto her cheeks.

“Of course, Honey. You’re both my girls, always.”

He was right, more right than he could know. Because if Colt was cut from the same cloth as his father, well, so was she, at least where it counted. She would protect her daughter and as a family, they would get through the bad times. She hadn’t always made the right choices, but she had her daughter and she had her father. And for the time being, that would have to be enough.

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