#and lots of people were bouncing between Pack and Herd and other things

[pixiemage]

Y'all I have to tell you, every time I see the term "Pyre" used as a name for blazeborn family units (like "flock" for avians), I do a little happy dance. I came up with it for a friend's Rancher fic like two years ago by now and I keep seeing it pop up in new Tango fics, and I friggin' LOVE IT. Keep it up guys, you're making my little worldbuilding heart so damn happy 🥰

[ask-rp-devra]

The night was short, the pair were able to sleep a good 8 hours before getting ready the next morning to set off towards the train station. The pair decided to come back through to pick up the Pokemon to bring back to the island before heading home, but for now they could stay behind with Devra’s mom, just for a little while longer. The only team members that went with them were coal, the little hybrid houndoomxarcanine pup, and Aliza, who had taken a shine to the ponyta gifted to Peach, they seemed to play well together, even Dreepy liked her. With bags gathered, goodbyes said, and tickets bought, the pair stepped onto the train, waving off Olivia who came to see her daughter go, and off they went, towards the new Galarian island, the Crown Tundra.

Devra settled into her seat, waving goodbye to her mom as Coal jumped up in the seat next to her. He was small enough to be on the train, but Aliza had to stay in her pokeball for the time being. She looked over at her friend and smiled. “I hope you slept alright. I always thought the guest room bed was too hard.”

“‘you saw me right? I was asleep in an aeroplane chair sitting up right, the bed was just fine. Much better than most of the places I sleep while away from the lab.” She recalled a few occasions being able to just about catch an hours rest while being trapped in a tree by aggressive Pokemon. “it was a warm, dry bed, with actual sheets and a roof over me haha. It was great.” She mindlessly petted Val, ordering a good coffee off the trolley that passed by, a sweet little wigglytuff in the train companies uniform asking for payment. She got her wallet out...or so she thought? Her hand reached into her bag, and hit something very cold and very smooth, reeling from the weird texture. Val sniggered to herself, shifting to the empty seat the bag sat on, to peer inside.

“I think we have a stow away.” Peach murmured, carefully opening the bag much wider than needed to get a good look. “‘Dreepy?” Inside was the little ghost type, she swore while waving to Devra’s mother at the station when they left, she had also spotted this Pokemon amongst others that had come to see the trainers off. He was wrapped up in one of Peach’s shirts, and seemed a little nervous about being caught in her stuff.

Devra looked over at Peach from her camera, having been looking th right some pictures. “Dreepy? He’s here? But I saw him with my mom. Here, I took a picture of the group when we left.” She held the camera so they could both look. “Oh....well. I thought he was in the picture.” She looked at the little Pokémon and sighed. “I guess he really wanted to come with you.”

“well, it’s fine with me, if he wants to come then I guess we’ve got a new team member.” She smiled a little at the Pokemon and let him and Val go and pick some snacks off the trolley before paying. She gave eyes at her steadfast fire type while Dreepy’s back was turned, asking without words for her to tone her usual disinterest down by like 20%, and she began chattering to the ghost Pokemon as she selected a strawberry filled dumpling thing in a wrapper. With the stern silence broken between the two, peach could relax a little, perhaps they two would be fine together for the trip.

“You’re right though, I swear I saw him on the platform too.” She glanced at the screen on the camera, seeing no signs of him. “‘how strange. You’re faster than you look hey bud?” Dreepy seemed quite proud of the compliment, and finally chose a chocolate-orange flavoured pastry twist before returning to the open bag to snack. “I’m buying, you and your team want anything?”

Devra nodded to Coal, who bounced over and happily started sniffing around until he found a pumpkin muffin. She then grabbed an apple cake and raspberry pastry for her other two team members before sitting back down. “I don’t need anything. Mom made sure I left full.” She laughed and opened Coal’s treat for him. “Tell Peach thank you young man.” The little pup barked happily as me bounced over to her for pets.

“she’s a good mom that one, I bet she’d enjoy a little holiday in johto, lots to see, I can hook you both up with some fun things to do for sure.” There was plenty of art galleries, heritage sites, and excellent restaurants throughout the region, not to mention live music, public gardens of great beauty, and a butt load of areas to sightsee in. Peach paid up and petted Coal, she was very glad to see him in capable hands, he took to Devra like a Ducklett to water, and she was confident he’d grow fast now he was out exploring with her. The Dreepy seemed to peep its eyes out at the hybrid Pokemon, still nibbling away on its snack.

Coal bounced back up next to Devra and started to munch on his treat. “I’m sure she’ll love the trip.” She looked out the window, watching the countryside roll by. “What’s the first thing you want to do once we get to the tundra?”

The professor sipped her hot drink, also enjoying the windows view. “hm, that’s a good question. I suppose I’d really like to find a place to stay, I’d normally not mind camping but I see the name ‘Crown TUNDRA’ and feel like I wouldn’t want to stay over night outside as much. What about you? You’ll be knees deep in herd Pokemon in no time I bet, anything else you’d want to check out?” The little Dreepy had snuck closer to the window to look out, still nibbling.

“Well, there is this big ruin building with a massive old dead tree that’s I’d love to see. But it’s at the top of one of the mountains here. So it might be tricky getting to.” She mindlessly pet Coal as she slowly started seeing snow. “And I think there’s a small town that we could ask about lodging at. Day trips to the tundra and back by dark?”

“‘oh I do love a tree, that sounds interesting, you could always try to find a Pokemon who could get you up that mountain a bit easier?” Peach had planned to do just that, the cold sneaking in, she could feel her bad knee aching ever so slightly already, and almost exactly after that thought crossed her mind, Val crept over to radiate heat, sitting in her lap, easing the dull pain.

“perhaps we can camp out some of the time, it’d be nice to see what happens at night, what Pokemon come out, just perhaps not in any heavy weather if it can be avoided. I did take a look online, the village there is usually pretty open to travellers, think I noticed a B&B or two with vacancies posted, I’m sure we’ll find somewhere to stay.” By this point, the views had turned pure white, in the fields you could see grazing Pokemon, a herd of wooloo who almost blending in with the surroundings.

Devra spotter the wooloo right away, fawning over one of her favorite Pokémon. Coal picked up on his trainer’s excitement, his tail wagging happily as she told him what snow was like. “Oh I can’t wait to see Aliza’s face when she sees her first snow!”

“thats right, she’s not even seen a December yet, or a snowy route. Good thing you got your camera then isn’t it, I’m sure mom and pop would like to see her first experience with it, you know Cole hasn’t seen snow either before. Bet he’s real excited about now.” The pup must have felt something, seeing all this white for the first time. “‘what about you Dreepy, you seen snow before?” The little ghost type looked back, didn’t turn its body at all, but bent it’s neck fully back to look at the Professor upside down, giving no clear answer, which to her seemed like a big fat no, but perhaps he was a little shy about answering right away. “no matter, we’ll soon be in the thick of it.”

She giggled at the sight of the little dreepy. “He’s seen some light snow before. I caught him in the wild area. The weather there is always so weird. But he hasn’t seen this much before. This is going to be a big busy day.” She snapped a quiet picture of dreepy being cute, then one of Coal barking at the snow through the window.

The train began to turn a final corner, the tannoy alerting passengers to the upcoming station, the only stop on the journey coming up very soon.

“looks like we’re nearly there, ready to get going?” The trip had been only short, but outside it looked like a completely different region, so much snow and ice everywhere, nothing but pine trees. The woman grabbed her bags, not before waiting for the little Dreepy to return to the inside where it wrapped up in the spare clothes to keep warm. Val took to her shoulder as she usually did.

Devra nodded, standing up to gather her things. She then picked up Coal, holding his stout body in her arms to keep him from running of into the snow. “We’re ready. I’m so excited to see this area. I’ve read about it but they took forever to get it safe enough for more visitors.”

Safe enough wasn’t always entirely foolproof, and Peach was quietly happy she packed a first aid kit. She had heard some murmurs it was a little risky here, a lot of tough Pokemon roamed about.

“I hope you’re right, I’m sure the locals wouldn’t put people at risk.” The pair stepped off the train once the doors pinged open, the brisk cold air swept past, pulling them all out onto the platform. People came and went, and before long they became aware of the exits and where to head to next.

Devra took a slight lead of the two, following signs towards the little town. “Well, they did give all of us coming here a safety talk too. I just hope trainers actually listen. You gotta be smart about this place.” She then set Coal down and let the little guy run circles around the two humans. “I think I’ll wait to let Aliza our until we’re settled.”

With the pup thoroughly enjoying the snow, the trainers paused to check their phones, a map was needed for a moment, before they began to hear some loud ruckus just outside to the right of the station, sounded like a man and a young woman, peach didn’t even register it much, turning her back to the noise almost instinctually, trying to figure out which way to go. Val however was being nosey and sat on her shoulder judging the people making all the noise pretty hard from the look on her face.

“I think you’re right, we should find somewhere to stay before we really go out on a wild adventure.”

She nodded, looking at her own map on her Rotom phone, thanking the Pokémon inside for his help. “It looks like we head on that way.” She pointed to the road as it took a slight left turn. “Shouldn’t be more than a 20 minute walk.”

“‘sounds good to me, wonder what Pokemon we might see on the way?” Pocketing the phone and hoisting her bag up a bit, Peach began to take a few steps, noticing the pair who were making such noise earlier, avoiding them entirely, they seemed to be having a dad-daughter tiff that was no ones business. Onward, to the first route of the Crown Tundra!

Devra took a glance at the arguing people and sighed, hoping the wouldn’t bother her or the Professor. Coal bounded ahead as they walked, but kept in his trainer’s sight. “It’s really pretty here. Just look at all the ice on these pine needles!” She crunched her way to a tree and found an angle to catch light in the ice.

[janeyseymour]

Silly Streaks

Someone had the idea that Jane makes all of the other queens break on stage because in an interview, the broadway queens said that Abby made Brit break a lot, and Brit and Sam both voiced that Abby is really funny, so uh... have a broadway SiX fic?

When the queens were out and about, each queen had their own place. Catherine of Aragon strutted confidently down the sidewalks of New York City, often leading the pack because she wasn’t afraid of the hustle and bustle of the city. Anne Boleyn was often bouncing between the front and back of the herd, trying to convince Aragon or Seymour to let her going into the M&M store or the Hershey store. Jane Seymour stuck to the back of the group, making sure that each of her fellow queens was in front of her. Being almost a head taller than some of them had its advantages. She was almost always able to catch Anne as she tried to sneak into the candy store for the millionth time that week. Anna of Cleves was often at the front of the pack too because she walked very quickly despite her lack of height. She wanted to be fit, lunge-walking almost anywhere she went. She also was not afraid to use her voice and ask people to “watch where they’re going because you really just almost trampled me”. Katherine Howard was more on the quiet side and wandered somewhere in the middle of the pack, airpods in and music blasting. Cathy Parr also found herself in the middle somewhere because she was just quiet. Never wanting to bother a soul, she let herself stay in the middle because she knew the first or fourth queen would clear the way for her while whoever was at the back didn’t mind the occasional shove they might get. 

When the queens were being interviewed, it was about what people expected. Catherine spoke with as much regality and elegance as you would think. She wasn’t queen for 24 years for nothing. She almost never spoke in slang (aside from the show). Anne Boleyn was always referring to more current things, and even showed off that she knew exactly who the “Spice Girls” were (“Anne, what the hell is a spice girl, and what kind of recipe would I even put it in?” Jane asked one day out of curiosity. “Oh Janey,” the second queen laughed. “They’re a band that came out in the 90s.” “Oh,” the blonde remarked, just a bit dumbfounded as to why they would name themselves after cooking ingredients.) Anna of Cleves had her own way with words, catchphrases of hers becoming quite apparent. (“Dude that’s sick!” “Punch it out! Punch it out!”) Katherine was a feisty one. She spoke with words that dripped with sarcasm, but she was never too rude about it. She offered her thoughts when asked, but for the most part she just played with the end of her ponytail. Cathy Parr was a quiet one. She spoke carefully; her syntax was impeccable even if she did stutter and stumble over her words every once in a while. She was not quite as graceful as her godmother, but she certainly wasn’t like Anne or Anna. And Jane Seymour, perhaps the quietest of the group, watched the others speak with a bright smile on her face- a clear sign that she was so proud of her girls. When she spoke, it was to agree with the others or express her gratitude for the support. Rarely did she add in her own thoughts other than “We are just so humbled by the love and support from the Queendom”. Occasionally after another queen would speak, she would quietly add on a “Yas Queen” or a simple “Preach”. 

Little did the Queendom know that the most reserved queen was actually the funniest when the cameras or spotlight weren’t on her. This came to light during a few interviews.

“Hey guys, a fan account just asked if we’d go live to do an interview with them? Are you guys all down?” Anne bounced out of her bedroom. The other five were quick to agree, so here they were. All settled down on or in front of their couch, laughing as the teen asked them questions.

“Okay, so who is the funniest queen?” All of the queens aside from Jane glanced at each other with knowing looks before the first queen spoke up.

“Okay, so we’ll let you in on a little secret. We know the queendom thinks that the funniest is probably Bo-loser, but it’s actually Janey.”

“I- What?” Jane sputtered out. “I’m not that-”

“Don’t listen to her guys,” the green queen laughed. “She’s hilarious.” Jane opened her mouth to object to this statement, but Kat beat her to it.

“You know, we all have our silly days, but when Jane does, it’s amazing. She’s like, always just like,” Kat giggled slightly. “saying that one thing under her breath, and maybe you’ll hear it, but not everyone will hear. And when you do hear it, you’re like ‘Jane what?!’ She is so funny.”

“Seriously though. Seymour makes me laugh on stage all the time. She’ll like, pop an eyebrow when I break and just go ‘baby’ before continuing on with whatever she’s doing. Or like, right before the curtain goes up for the beginning of the show she’ll say something that has me dying laughing. I have to like, get it together before my first line.”

“I had no idea you guys thought that way,” Jane admitted quietly, a small blush creeping up on her face.

“That’s hilarious,” the interviewer commented.

One night, a few days after the instagram live interview had taken place, the girls were on stage when something happened. Anna’s fake nail popped off.

“What the-” the fourth queen muttered. Instantly, Jane was behind her murmuring under her breath.

“Wait, I got you,” The third queen, feeling particularly silly that night, leaned away from her microphone for a minute and turned upstage before popping one of her own nails off and throwing it off stage.

“Jane what the-” Anna began to howl with laughter to the point where even when her microphone was held away from her face, the sound was being picked up.

Jane quirked an eyebrow, her eyes sparkling with a glint of mischievousness. “Baby,” she mouthed.

“Jane!” the red queen only continued to laugh, directing the attention towards her and the third queen. 

“Uh, guys? I’m kind of in the middle of my roast right now, so if you would let me continue, that’d be-” Katherine was cut off by more of Anna’s laughter. 

“I-I-I-” the fourth queen tried to catch her breath. “I’m so sorry. Seymour is just-” At the mention of her name, the blonde blushed. “-My nail popped off, and she literally ripped one of her own off. Who the hell does that?”

“Oh my god,” the other four queens started to laugh, as did the audience. 

“The magic of live theater?” Jane offered with a shrug of her shoulders. “So sorry Kat, you can continue now.”

“And Jane, dying of natural causes.... When will justice be served?” Katherine threw her hands up in exasperation, much like she did in every other show. Tonight though, Jane was still feeling a bit silly. In turn, she rolled her eyes like she did so often before retorting, “When will justice be served?”

The five other queens bit back a laugh before Katherine repeated her question. The two went back and forth a few times before Jane snorted, “Okay love, move on. We’ve beaten this joke to death.”

“What the-” Anna began howling again.

“Everyone notices Jane can’t dance!” The green queen exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with joy as she made this joke. The blonde had tripped a few times this show, once landing her on the floor in a heap. 

“And Anna can’t keep her fingernails on,” Jane chose to fake-scoff back instead of going about her stammering.

The queens had gone about finishing their show and heading to stagedoor as usual when Jane was met with a swarm of fans she usually didn’t find herself in. Most people normally flocked towards Katherine or Anne, fan favorites of the show. 

“I, uh, hi?” Jane waved awkwardly at the fans who were crowding her, not that she minded. Sometimes, it was nice for the docile queen to be recognized for being a bit more chaotic.

“Jane, you were so funny tonight. I don’t know how you thought of that stuff so quickly, but it was truly gold.”

“Oh that’s just me having the brain capacity of an onion,” Jane muttered to herself, but the fan in front of her picked up on it.

“I-” the fan laughed. “What does that even mean?”

“Did I say that out loud?” the blonde face palmed herself.

“Can you please write that on my playbill?” Another fan who heard laughed.

From that day on, the third queen would allow herself to voice her thoughts a bit more freely in the show; none of the other queens minded. It was nice to show the queendom that even in the stereotypes they had been placed in for the show, they were real people. Jane may have always been known as the quiet and most demure queen, but every once in a while, she released her inner chaos. And you never knew what was going to come out of her mouth.

[revisionaryhistory]

Three Days ~ 84

~*~Sebastian~*~

I have loved every moment we've been in Paris. Everything we've done, everything we've seen. All of it. But nothing more than the last five minutes. This was perfect. This was us. This was how it’s supposed to work. I knew what was going on with Emma and I went around her defenses the way she does my anxiety. I told her a story (true) about me to make sure she knew it was alright to be her and I understood. At first, she looked annoyed but I saw the change. My change in tone and what I said had triggered something.

Emma licked her lips slowly, like I do when considering, then started to smile, "Thank you. I knew what I was doing, but hadn't put it all together. You're right it doesn't feel like my choice, but it is always my choice. The rest is bullshit." She leaned closer and I closed the distance to kiss her. "I love you, Bastian."

I sat back, flagging down the waiter with flutes of champagne and handing one to Emma. I waved my finger back and forth between us, "So this is two people pushing and supporting each other."

She sat back with the same smug look I was feeling, "I think so. Growing together.” We laughed for a moment. "Sorry, I was being difficult."

I shook my head, remembering my session with Celie. "Even if this is the best we get, we're going to be just fine." I took her hand and brought it to my mouth. "I love you." I kissed her hand and laid it on the table, like every other time we've sat together.

A few minutes later Jessica and Gian came off the dance floor, "Are we interrupting?"

This tells me Jessica noticed the intensity of our conversation. "Nope, have a seat." I leaned onto the table. "Dancing is so much more fun before you watch other people and hope you don't look as spastic and uncoordinated."

Jessica reached over the table, laying her hand on my forearm, "Sebastian, I promise you did look just as spastic and uncoordinated."

We shared a car back to the hotel. Emma invited them to go along on our private tour of Montmartre, which I was on board with. I ran by the concierge desk with the update before joining the other three in the elevator where Jessica and Emma had planned our day. We'd join them in their room for coffee and leave from there. Us coming to them gave them a chance to show off their daughter. I’m good with that too. I'd like to play with a little girl.

I'm not around a lot of kids. My friends aren't replicating yet. I need to go to Emma's classroom soon. She has a little herd of them that aren't sick or sad, like a lot of the charity visits I do. It's very rewarding but difficult. A group of healthy happy kids would be fun.

Emma led the way into the bedroom. "Sebastian, would you come undo my dress?"

"Yes," couldn’t have been said fast enough. I took great joy unlacing her dress. Something was exciting about pulling the long strings one by one. Watching them slide through the grommets and along my fingers. I got a nice rhythm going.

On closer look, her hair wasn't a single braid but several coming together from different directions, some tighter than others. It hung going over one shoulder. "I love your hair like this." I kissed her neck on the side her hair wasn't. "Can I take it down?"

"Whatever you prefer." She glanced over her shoulder at me. "If I say no will I be forbidden to blow you?"

"That would be self-defeating." I slid her dress off her shoulders letting it fall to the ground.

I undid her hair much slower than I had her dress. I removed the band holding the three braids together then chose the middle one. I ran my fingers through the silky strands from underneath. I buried my face in her hair enjoying the smell and softness against my skin. I pressed my hips against her so she could feel what all this unlacing had done to me. Her bare shoulder was a perfect place to rub my beard. "Do I need to go shave so you'll let me go down on you?"

Emma snorted a laugh, "No. I like the feel of your beard on my stomach."

I kissed up her neck to her ear and whispered, "Not your inner thigh?"

She turned, draping an arm over my shoulder, her other hand on my chest. "I can't remember."

"Well, I'll have to give it a try and see what you think."

~*~*~*~

The next morning, I awoke first. Blondish hair spilled from her pillow onto mine. I was all too aware tomorrow would be the last day I'd wake up like this for a long time. Historically, filming days are long and I collapse as soon as I'm back to my room. During the day I'm focused on work or relaxing with my co-workers.

Which means mornings are going to suck.

I stayed put and soaked it all in. Emma looked over as soon as she woke up. A smile was forming while she rolled toward me. I lifted my arm to welcome her, moving to my side and holding her lightly. "Morning, sunshine."

"Good morning." She kissed my chest where her head laid. "Been awake long?"

"Not so much." I snuggled in closer. "Enjoying the view. You're beautiful in the morning."

She tilted her face up to meet my eyes, "Thank you. When don't you think I'm beautiful?"

I pretended to think, "Never."

"Te iubesc, Sebasti-an." "Te iubesc, Emiliana."

We started the day as we'd ended last night, naked and slightly breathless. While catching my breath I looked over with a sigh, "It's going to be a good day."

Emma rolled to her stomach, propped on her elbows. "Thank you again for bringing me."

The last thing Emma needed to do was thank me. That said, the simple appreciation was a nice change. It's a little shocking how often those words aren't spoken. I don’t keep track. I only notice when there's a consistent lack of them.

"You're welcome again." I kissed her nose, "Shower?"

Emma gasped, "Is that an invitation?"

"Can I wash your hair?"

"Sure."

"Yes, it's an invitation."

Reality smacked me after our shower when Emma dried off her shower supplies and put them in their leak-proof bag. I felt a twisting in my stomach, which must have shown on my face. Emma pressed her towel covered body against mine, "If I pack now, we can just enjoy tomorrow."

"Was I pouting?"

She shook her head, "You looked like I feel about it."

"Somehow that helps." Our laughter was tinged with something less than humor.

Emma did a lot of things to make tomorrow morning about us. She curled her hair, so she could easily pull it up. She laid out her clothes for the plane, so she could pack the rest. And she packed all the bathroom stuff except what she'd need in the morning. It wasn't like I couldn't bring her anything she left behind.

I hope she forgets something.

I was ready before her and headed into the sitting room. I settled on the couch to get into the app she'd installed. I didn't go into “Things for Sebastian”. That's not what I needed. I created a page and titled it, "Things for Emma"

1.      I love you

2.      You are beautiful. Inside and out.

3.      I miss you

4.      I crave the touch of your fingers

5.      And your lips

6.      I need to make a page for dirty thoughts

7.      In a room full of people I can feel you near

8.      It pisses me off when you won't let me rip something off you.

9.      I appreciate how kind you are to my mom.

10.   Your dad still kinda scares me.

Ten was my goal for the morning.

Jessica and Gian were closer to ready than they lead us to believe they would be. They had a nanny for the fifteen-month-old daughter Giulietta, but they liked to handle the morning routine and breakfast. Jessica let us in and ran back to the bedroom pointing us in the direction of Gian. He was sitting at the table supervising a toddler eating berries, yoghurt, and pieces of a croissant. Giulietta immediately stopped eating and shifted her attention to us. She held out her little pudgy arm pointing at me and said, "Da!"

My eyebrows shot up, "I don't think so, but you are cute."

Gian interpreted, "Every male is a Da."

Giulietta held her arms up to me, "Up, Da."

I looked at her real Da, "This ok?"

"Yes, she's sturdy. You won’t break her."

Emma groaned, "She’s a sweet little princess."

I picked her up, holding her in front of me to talk, "Hi Giulietta. Can you say Hi, Seb?"

Gian said, "Give him a kiss."

She landed a very wet open-mouthed kiss on my cheek. "Ah, thank you." I brought her closer and kissed her cheek, without all the slobber.

Giulietta smacked her hands on either side of my face repeatedly, laughing with every sound and face I made. It became a game where I poked her and she laughed then she pulled or poked something on my face, the only place she could reach, and laughed at my response. Her giggling was precious, even more so when she got the hiccups.

Emma had sat down, Gian having poured her a cup of coffee, and Emma eating the same berries and croissant. I sat down with the baby standing and bouncing on my lap. I turned my head, opening my mouth, encouraging Emma to share her food with me. A few bites in and the little girl decided she wanted in on the action. She reached for Emma and left me.

I lost Emma too.

I poured myself a cup of coffee and talked with Gian about the tour. Cheese, wine, and bakery items while on a walking tour of Montmartre complete with museums and shopping before dropping us off at a cafe for a proper lunch. Although I’m sure Emma will continue with cheese and wine.

An overly cheery and overly expressive voice came from my left. Not talking to me, but about me. "Listen to that mean man, Giulietta. Making fun of me for my love of cheese. He's just afraid I love cheese more than him, which I do not. Or maybe he's afraid I'm going to steal all the baby kisses. She snuggled into Giulietta’s neck and started saying, "nom, nom, nom." More little girl laughter filled the air. This time ending with her wrapping her arms around Emma's head while Emma blew raspberries on her belly.

The fun ended with a recognizable sound followed by a less than pleasant smell. I backed away, Gian grimaced and apologized. Emma laughed, "What did you did, Guilietta? What did you do?" Gian started to stand, Emma shook her head, "Stay put. Where are her diapers?"

"There's a diaper bag by the couch."

I smiled at Gian, "You didn't fight that offer."

Gian snickered, "Never turn down an offer to change a diaper that smells like that."

Jessica joined us, noticing the missing people, "What have you two done?"

We both looked innocent. "Nothing."

I added, "Emma had her when the problem occurred."

Jessica teasingly pulled her husband’s ear, "You dumped our shitty baby on a new friend."

From the other room, Emma called out, "The best conversations happen during diaper changes." Emma came back into the room, holding her hands above her head, helping balance her as she tried to walk. "Who is that Giulietta?"

"Mama mama."

Jessica glowed looking at her daughter, "That's my baby girl."

She picked her up and hugged her, "You've been flirting with a boy then made him jealous by leaving him for another."

I snorted, "Not jealous of the diaper explosion."

"Baby wipes clean up everything." Emma looked at Jessica, "Can I use your bathroom?"

Jessica pointed. Emma left the door open while she washed her hands and she and Jessica kept talking, "You did that fast. You have younger siblings."

"Two little sisters and a niece. Olivia was out of diapers before I got there. We took turns with Harper." She joined us back at the table, "My sister had a tough delivery ending in an emergency C- section. I took care of Katie for the first couple of weeks. It’s crazy how formula goes in and toxic waste comes out."

"Fun fact." I raised a finger, "I've never changed a diaper."

"When we're old you can change mine."

I made a face, "I've got you by eight years. I think you'll be first with that duty."

Gian looked at us then his wife, "This has gone in a weird direction."

I snorted, "Usually does." This weird direction was courtesy of neither of us going near the baby thing. We’d discussed not discussing it.

Jessica handed the baby to the nanny and we headed to Montmartre. Our guide, Elodie, met us at the foot of the hill. Oh fuck, the way she looked at me. She not only knew who I was, she liked it.

Elodie was a good tour guide. She knew the history of the area, fast-tracked us through museums, and pointed out interesting shops. We stopped at several local eateries for a glass of wine or bite to eat then on to the next place. Emma enjoyed the cheese most, Jessica the macaroons, and Sian and I the wine. I held Emma's hand as we walked. Elodie would stop and turn to talk. And flirt. At one of our shopping stops Emma and Jessica came back from the bathroom right as Elodie laughed and put her hand on my arm. Both women looked at me and rolled their eyes. On our way to the next stop Emma leaned closer, "She flirts with you with me standing right here."

I nodded, "I noticed." She wasn't acting upset, but I thought it best to ask. "Are you pissed?"

She screwed up her face, "No. Do you think if you flirted back a little I could get some extra cheese? Maybe an off the tour place that can’t pay to be included?"

Jessica leaned over. "We'd appreciate wine."

I looked at them in turn, "You're trading me for cheese and wine?"

"They have really good cheese here."

Jessica just nodded.

Next shop when Elodie found her way to me for a little more flirting, I put my hand on hers that was on my arm and asked about any place off the beaten path that we shouldn't miss.

Elodie smiled, "We're contracted for certain establishments."

"I know, but you've seen what we like. Maybe a smaller place that’s delicious, but can’t afford to be on a tour." I leaned closer and whispered, "I'd appreciate it."

"I’ll try to think of a place."

"Thank you." I kissed her cheek, patted her hand, and walked to Emma. Smiling.

Emma pursed her lips try to look disapproving but started smiling. "That wasn't you’re A-game, but it's going to work."

"Cheese isn't worthy of my A-game."

Her smile turned a little evil, "What’s worthy of your A-game?"

"Separating you from your panties." I took her hand and led her outside.

Fifteen minutes later we were at a small store you wouldn’t find if you didn’t know it was there. All of us were happy. Jessica and Gian bought three bottles of wine. Emma nearly had an orgasm over a cheese, which made me happy. Elodie was happy when she said goodbye to us outside the cafe and I took a picture hugging her.

There'd been a lot of walking between cheese and wine stops. By design, we were supposed to be a little high as we shopped and still hungry at the cafe. We were. It was a fun meal with lots of laughter. Jessica had no lack of stories from filming and press for “The Martian”.

I only thought how Emma wouldn't be here for lunch tomorrow about a dozen times.

Our tour didn't include Sacré-Cœur. It was easy enough without a guide. We headed that direction after lunch. The street we walked down led past a small square with a big wall covered in words.

Jessica pointed, “The I Love You wall." She went in that direction. "I think there's over a hundred languages. You two need to find Romanian."

There wasn't a crowd of people. It was a polite tourist spot with people taking it in turns to take pictures near their language. We stood back and I quickly found the words. Jessica had found the Italian version. We traded phones for pictures. Romantic, coupley, tourist bullshit pictures. It was great.

The view of the city from Sacré-Cœur was beautiful. A little down from the crowd we sat on a wall overlooking the city. Gian and Jessica decided it was time for them to head back. We were going to walk amongst the artists. Emma got up to hug them goodbye then climbed back on the wall with me. The quiet moment enjoying the view was interrupted by my text notification. I was going to ignore it, but something told me to check. I nudged Emma to show her the picture Jessica had sent. They'd paused as they left to take a picture of us on the wall. My arm was around Emma's waist, her head was on my shoulder, and I was kissing her head. "I fucking love this."

"Me too." She kissed me. "This is what I want to post. Will you ask Jessica if it's ok?"

"Sure." I forwarded the picture to Emma before texting Jessica. She didn’t care.

I sat there watching Emma type out the caption, but still went to the app when my notification went off. She'd framed where we were on the bottom right and the Eiffel Tower was top left. It was a very sweet picture. I wanted to post it too, but if I did we’d have to evacuate the area. I wasn’t ready to leave.

Emma captioned it, "Beautiful view with my love."

I tapped the little red heart and commented, "Paris is for lovers."

Almost quicker than me Amy had commented, "You're in Paris? When will you be back?"

She responded, "Tomorrow night. 🙁”

I pulled her into a tight hug, "I'm proud of you."

She looked like I felt when she said the same thing to me. "This feels better. You were right."

I tangled our fingers, "I know you pretty well."

We kissed again and she whispered, "I love you, Bastian."

I put my hand on her face, "I love you, beautiful girl."

Emma found a watercolor of a window at Mont Saint Michel with purple flowers. I was told they were Wisteria. She negotiated the price, somehow paying more than he'd asked, telling him the extra was for the feelings it evoked. He rolled it into a thick cardboard tube that would travel well. He suggested unrolling it at the hotel until we were ready to travel.

Sunset was nearing. Our last in Paris. I'd researched this and knew the winding road to head down. The sunset against the buildings would open to a bigger view over the city. The area was crowded. I led her to a building to lean against. In the afterglow I picked up her hand, kissing it, "Do you want to play a game?"

Her eyes lit up, "A game. On our last night?"

"It will be perfect."

"What kind of game do you have in mind?"

"You seem tense. Like you could use a good massage." I shook my head, "Well, a mediocre massage but a happy ending."

I wasn’t sure if she was giving me the I love you smile or something dirty. Either worked. "Sounds fun."

I nodded, "Do you want me or a new massage therapist?"

"Neither. I want you, but neutral. Well placed kissed are good."

I nodded, "I got it."

"We're not sleeping tonight, are we?"

"Probably not."

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Crooked Crooks and Awkward Angels

Summary: Gideon is performing in the school nativity play, and Belle and Rumpel are very excited to see his starring role. Obviously, there are a few mishaps along the way.

Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling November non-smut prompt: anticipation, anger, angels.

Rated: G

Crooked Crooks and Awkward Angels

It was the eve of Storybrooke elementary school's nativity play, and as Belle approached the gates to pick up Gideon, she was halfway convinced that the traditional nativity had in fact been replaced with a re-enactment of Gladiator this year. The hall appeared to be in complete chaos, with half-costumed kids running hither and thither and back again. The large star over the stage was hanging precariously from a thread, and Belle was very glad it was made of cardboard and would not cause any injuries were it to fall on an unsuspecting pupil, teacher, or parent. 

Mary Margaret looked like she was ruing the day she decided to put the nativity on, and Belle had to sympathise. There was something about Christmas that brought out the worst in everyone, including children who one would have hoped would be on their best behaviour ready for Santa to come. It was clearly not going to be the case, and as she stepped into the hall to collect her son, she was dismayed to find him at the centre of one of the many disturbances. 

"Mama!" He rushed over as soon as he saw her, and Belle quickly saw that he was wearing an expression of utter, incandescent fury that only Rumpel could better.

"What's happened, Gid?"

He held up his crook, which was in two pieces. Although he had wanted to be one of the wise men with their bejewelled crowns and cloaks made out of old curtains trimmed with tinsel, or the starring role of Joseph the carpenter, he had been mollified at landing the role of Shepherd One when Rumpel had explained that way back when, he'd kept sheep himself, and there was no shame in it. After that, Gideon had thrown himself into his role, and had insisted on the stuffed sheep sitting at the dinner table with them of an evening. 

He was incredibly proud of his crook, which Rumpel had made for him by hand to the old specifications that he had used in his sheep-herding life. Naturally, Belle was disappointed to see that it had broken. 

"What happened? Was it an accident?"

"Well, Tommy said that it was an accident, but I saw him do it on purpose! He's jealous because I've got more lines than him."

"I'm sure that Papa will be able to fix it, don't worry."

"But the play is tomorrow!"

"He can fix it tonight."

Not entirely convinced of this, Gideon nonetheless followed her out of the hall. Belle decided not to mention the dirty look that he threw Tommy over his shoulder. Like his father, Gideon was quick to anger and had a fierce sense of justice, but it usually burned out within a few minutes, and sure enough, by the time they were at home and the crook had been spirited away out of sight and mind, he was back to his usual bright self. 

"How was the chaos?" Rumpel came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dishcloth. Belle pulled the crook out of the hall closet and Rumpel sighed. 

"I'm not even going to ask, but fear not, it will be as good as new by the morning, and no magic will be required. Except the magic of superglue."

Belle laughed, leaning in to press a kiss against his cheek. It had become something of a running joke between them now, the whole magic thing. Rumpel had barely used it since Gideon had returned to them and they had begun their happy beginning together; there had simply been no need, and Belle had firmly stated that she did not want frivolous spells forming part of their son's upbringing. 

"Thank you, Rumpel. You're so good about these things."

"When it comes to children, I have infinite patience. Even for the ones who break my handiwork."

"It wasn't Gideon's fault. I'm not sure whether it was an accident, or deliberate sabotage as he claims, but apparently responsibility lies with Tommy, alias Shepherd Two."

"Ah, the classic shepherd's crook jealousy. It's a real thing among farming communities, you know."

He was so deadpan that Belle had to laugh, but then the moment was broken as something boiled over on the stove and Rumpel rushed back into the kitchen to rescue their dinner. 

The play was the only topic of conversation throughout the rest of the evening, and there was a definite air of anticipation. It was Gideon's first starring role, aside from the little performances he had put on for his parents over the course of his childhood. He was practically bouncing up and down in his seat with excitement, and Belle had to admit that she was feeling pretty excited about it herself. When she thought back to Gideon’s birth and all of the drama that had unfolded at the time, there had been a large part of her that had thought that she would never have the chance to see all of these childhood milestones of his, and now that she did have the opportunity and everything had worked out for the best, she was determined to make the most of it all. Having come so close to missing out on it, she knew that she was not going to miss out on it now.

After dinner, Gideon was happily playing with his stuffed sheep and practicing his lines – Belle had told him not to put his costume back on for fear of something happening to it without enough time for it to be washed – and cries of ‘Look, what’s that up in the sky?’ and ‘We must take our sheep to Bethlehem!’ were ringing out from the living room as Rumpel carefully fixed the crook with superglue and packing tape. It wasn’t exactly as good as new, but the join was carefully hidden, and it would hopefully hold up until after the performance. Belle wondered if he’d ever had to fix his own crook like this, and what he had done in the absence of superglue.

Rumpel let out a sigh as he put down his handiwork, and Belle caught the sound.

“Is everything all right?”

He nodded, running his hands over the crook. “It just reminds me of a very long time ago, that’s all. Sometimes I do wonder what would have happened if I had never taken on the Dark One powers, and I had just lived out my life as a spinner with Bae.”

“And what would have happened, do you think?”

“Well, life would have been a lot shorter, and a lot simpler. But at the same time, I would never have met you and we would never have had Gideon, so I could never regret the path that I chose that led me to this moment.”

Belle smiled and leaned in to kiss her husband, just at the moment when Gideon raced into the kitchen to see if the crook was repaired. He scrunched his face up at the sight of them kissing and immediately ran out again, much to Belle’s mirth.

“It’s probably for the best,” Rumpel said, eyeing the open doorway. “If he’d seen that the crook was mended he’d probably want to start acting with it straight away and I don’t think it’s ready for his exuberance just yet.”

Belle just laughed and kissed him again. She couldn’t wait for the next day when the crook would be seen in all its glory.

X

The day of the play dawned bright and early – well, it was early, certainly, but given the time of year it was not at all bright when Gideon woke them before seven, fumbling and thumping around in his room as he got his costume on ready, despite the play not being until two in the afternoon. He insisted on remaining in the classic combination of bathrobe and tea-towel until it was time to go to school, and even then, Belle had a trying time getting him into his normal clothes. She kept busy all morning, trying to put off her anticipation with practical matters. Surely, the kitchen had never been cleaner.

Finally, it was time to go, and Belle made her way to the school via the pawn shop. She slipped her arm through Rumpel’s as they walked, and he leaned into her side.

“Ready for Gideon’s grand debut?” he asked.

Belle nodded. “I know that he always says he wants to be a sorcerer like you when he grows up, but I think that this experience might have made him rethink. He’s certainly very happy treading the boards.”

The hall was almost full to overflowing with parents and other family members by the time they got there, even though they were early, and Belle could only giggle as little faces kept peering out from behind the curtains, searching for people they knew in the audience and waving excitedly before Mary Margaret pulled them back. At last, the lights dimmed, and the spotlight went up on stage as a young girl in an angel costume with cardboard wings shuffled into view.

“Welcome to our…” She looked out at the audience, then back at the curtain. “Welcome to our… Harvest Festival!”

“Nativity Play!” Mary Margaret hissed from behind the curtain, but it was too late, the little angel had already tripped off the stage, and the first scene was set.

Gideon was in the third scene, and he took his role very seriously, never once looking for his parents in the audience and focussing on his two lines. Belle was pleased to see that the crook was still in one piece after its repair job, and it made her smile to imagine Gideon guarding it all morning. She knew that every parent would think that their child was the star of the show and all of the other kids paled into insignificance, but she didn’t care; she was so proud of her son and she thought that his performance was a triumph. After the final bows had been made and the curtain pulled up so that the children could go down to meet their parents in the audience, Gideon bounded up to them.

“What did you think?” he asked. “Was I good?”

“You were wonderful,” Rumpel said. “You looked every inch a shepherd after my own heart.”

Gideon beamed. “Miss Blanchard says we’re going to do another play in summer,” he said. Personally, Belle thought that Mary Margaret might be having second thoughts about that announcement now, but she didn’t voice that to Gideon. “I hope I get a part. I really like being an actor.” He paused. “Maybe I could be on TV one day!”

“If that’s what you want, Gideon, then I’m sure you’ll find a way to get there.”

The three of them made their way home hand in hand, Gideon chattering on nineteen to the dozen about all of the backstage antics that had happened before the play had started – it was a miracle that the thing had gone off without a hitch considering all the mishaps that seemed to have gone on – and Belle just exchanged a look with Rumpel over the top of Gideon’s head. It was one of those moments that would stick with her forever. It was nothing momentous or life-changing, just another little milestone in Gideon’s childhood, but something for which she was grateful, nevertheless.

Hopefully, there would be many more moments like this to come.

[symphonic-scream]

Kagami being embarrassed by her fear of heights

(I'm in a good mood and have an idea so I'm making this a little drabble hehe)

Kagami could be described by her new classmates in many ways. To them, she was collected, calm and cool; she was strong, never one to hesitate or back down, and about as stubborn as an ox when she wanted to be.

Kitsune, her alter ego, was mischievous and keen, known to put her all out on the table with no regrets. She'd been called chaotic and cute, after that, well, special first interview she'd had with Alya of the Beetle Blog.

Kagami was a lot of things to the people around her, but to them she was never scared. She was brave, strong, a resolute wall of strength and protection. She never showed a lick of anything close to nerves or fear.

But good Lord was she terrified right now.

Somehow, her new classmates had heard that she'd never been up the Eiffel Tower. There was a good reason for it, after all. She didn't tell them it, of course, and had simply said that since her mother was blind there was no point in heading up there. So, the caring classmates they were, they decided to take her there themselves.

Of all times for her mother to loosen the leash, it had to be today. Marinette, sweet, clueless Marinette, had called Tomoe and personally asked if Kagami could join the class on a small trip to the Tower over lunch break later that week. Somehow even her mother wasn't immune to the baker's charm, and Kagami had no excuse to avoid the tower.

Day of, Kagami was trying to breath normally during the last class before lunch. She must have been really tense, because Nathaniel, who sat beside her now that Lila was away, had been glancing at her the whole time. He'd slipped her a note that simply read "excited?" And Kagami had just given him an awkward thumbs up under the table.

The bell sounded, and to Kagami it sounded like a death chime, announcing her time had come. Marinette bounced to the back of the room, Adrien just over her shoulder, both flashing those big smiles that knotted Kagami's stomach in the best way most days. Today, it just made her feel worse. Those smiles would leave when they learned the truth.

"Are you ready, Kagami?" Marinette gently laid a hand on the fencer's shoulder, her bright blue eyes shining like little lakes. "Ooh, I'm just so excited for you to finally get up there for the first time!"

"Yay..." Kagami cheered weakly, but it seemed enough to satisfy the class.

Kim pulled her up from behind by her shoulders, and practically carried her down the road of the class. "Let's get a move on! I wanna race you back, see which of us is faster!"

"Count me in as well." Alix popped up beside them, clipping her helmet on casually. "Loser pays for lunch for the winner on Monday?"

"Fuck yeah!" Kim jostled Kagami in his excitement, and she felt like she might actually hurl any second now. Her legs dangled beneath her, and she tucked her head into the collar of her jacket. Trixx, who had been napping in the inner wallet pocket during class, pressed their little paws against her side as a sign of comfort.

"Can you put me down, please?" Kagami managed to keep her voice from shaking, and thankfully Kim set her down onto the street. They'd made it to the corner by the school, and Kagami only had so much time to stall before they got there. Maybe if she kept letting her shoes get untied she could delay it?

The class moved as a pack, all chatting excitedly as Kagami's nerves rose. They boxed her in by surrounding her on all sides, herding her like a lost little lamb all the way to the tower's base.

Kagami swallowed thickly as she stared up at it. Juleka, who she had only interacted with in passing, stopped by her side, and looked up as well. "It's rather tall, isn't it? Makes you feel kinda insignificant in comparison, huh?"

Kagami felt her hands start to shake, so she clenched them to hide it. She only had to survive going up and back down again, that was it. This was nothing big, she tried to tell herself. The knot in her belly didn't budge. "Sure."

Juleka squinted at her, but before she could question Kagami, her small blonde girlfriend pulled her to the left, giggling excitedly. Kagami let out a wavering breath, closing her eyes to gather her bearings. Of all the things she could've been afraid of, it just had to be heights.

She rode up with Marinette and Adrien, and she felt her breathing speed up as they got higher and higher. The ground got farther and farther away, and it felt like the air was thinning around her. She backed up against one of the walls of the lift, her vision tunneling, focused entirely on the floor.

"-gami? Kagami, are you okay?" Marinette's voice broke Kagami out of her fear-induced daze. She glanced over at the other girl, who was looking at her in concern. "You look like you're going to be sick!"

"I-" Her voice died in her throat, and she felt the shaking take over. Instantly, both of her companions attached themselves to be sides, being the only things keeping her from collapsing into a puddle on the floor.

The doors opened, and the other two guided Kagami out onto the tower platform. She meekly struggled against them as they guided her to the edge of the railing. She felt tears gather in her eyes as she looked over the edge, and a whimper left her throat despite her efforts to fight it down.

"Wait, are you..." Adrien didn't finish his sentence, but it seemed he had put together Kagami's little secret. He looked over her head at Marinette, how had started to wipe at her tears as Kagami gasped for air. "We need to get her back down."

She must've blacked out for a few minutes, because next thing she knew, Kagami was propped up on a bench on the ground between Adrien and Marinette, both having one arm around her. It was very comforting, and now that she was back on the ground safely, she felt the guilt setting in.

"I'm sorry I ruined the trip." She muttered softly, giving herself a mental lecture. She should've just faked sick and hid in a store nearby, and let them have their fun. Yet here she was, ruining their day because she couldn't admit that she was scared.

"No, no. Kagami, you didn't ruin anything." Marinette soothed her quickly, giving her a quick squeeze. "Today was supposed to be about you, yet we didn't ask if you even wanted to come! We were being shitty friends."

"Yeah, this one is on us." Adrien agreed, smiling weakly.

"But, I should've just told you I-"

"Shhh, it's okay." The blond soothed. "You weren't comfortable telling us, and that's okay! We shouldn't have forced you up there in the first place."

"And don't worry about the others finding out." Marinette added. "I'll think of something later. Let's just enjoy the outdoors while we're here, okay?"

(I'd continue this but it's been like 3 hours and I have more things to do)

[itsthemoofacewriting]

Delayed

I adore the original trio and this ship in particular brings it out in me. Enjoy wingman Luffy, no matter how reluctant Zoro is.

Summary: Zoro's eye lingered for a moment too long on the woman in front of him and that was all it took for his best fried to get the wrong idea. Or, Zoro's flight is delayed and Luffy's a little shit. ZoNami. Airport AU. Rating: T Words: 8k

Can also be found on AO3 and FFN

Enjoy.

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

This was not happening.

Zoro watched as the flights on the board, one by one, started to display ‘DELAYED’, in angry red lettering. Casting a look outside, he could see a light flurry of snow starting. They’re delaying because of this?

The tannoy pinged and a lady’s voice played across the airport, confirming the delayed flights due to worsening weather conditions and that passengers delayed should visit their airline’s help desk for further information or compensation. He groaned as passengers started to herd past him. It was getting late and he had been so close to getting on his flight. This was the last thing he needed.

Luffy appeared out of thin air, after previously taking off to go to the toilet and plopped down on the seat next to Zoro. “The lady said we’re stuck.”

“Yeah, I know. We need to go to the desk and see what they say.” In the distance, Zoro could see a long queue already forming and groaned to himself.

“I’ll race you there!” Luffy announced, not waiting for Zoro to say reply and charging off, without his suitcase, through the throng of people.

Despite the horrible situation and apparently now being a pack mule for Luffy’s luggage, it didn’t stop him from hastily picking up their bags and taking off after his friend.

Whatever fun he was having stopped when he got to the end of the queue, at least ten people in front of them. He grunted at Luffy about leaving his luggage behind, but the other boy didn’t seem phased as he beamed and thanked Zoro.

They spent the next fifteen minutes waiting. Luffy was almost bouncing off the walls but he’d settled down when he’d started a game with Zoro. It wasn’t the kindest game, but they spent their time pointing out odd people to the other. The winner at the moment was a big guy with a ridiculously high voice. Despite Zoro also finding it funny, he had to elbow Luffy a couple of times when he got too loud and the guy kept throwing them suspicious looks. His voice was hilarious but the last thing they needed was a fight. Although if Zoro was going to be stuck up here, even he’d need a way to pass the time.

He could feel Luffy starting to fidget again, so he tried to find someone else to point out when his eyes settled on the woman in front of them. She was on the phone to someone and he could hear her explaining the situation, she sounded as annoyed as he felt. He gave her a once over, only getting the chance to take in her long orange hair and profile when she’d turned to look out the window, before stopping when he felt another set of eyes on him.

Luffy was giving him a shit-eating grin and the twinkle in his eye was definitely not a good thing. It could only spell disaster. He willed the flush on his neck to calm down at being caught staring. The woman had just caught his eye. It wasn’t a big deal. So what. Men did that. It happened. It didn’t mean anything. At least he was subtle.

The woman’s voice interrupted before Luffy could be a little shit. “But where am I supposed to sleep?”

“We offer compensation in the case hotels run out of rooms. You could use to money to travel further out to a hotel or to make other arrangements.”

Not what Zoro wanted to hear, but he’d happily pocket the money and sleep in a corner of the airport somewhere. But to his disbelieve, the orange haired woman in front actually tried to haggle for more money. When it got her nowhere, the woman behind the counter standing firm, she gave up and huffed as she walked away. He rolled his eyes at her bratty behaviour before stepping up to the desk.

.

.

.

Delayed: hour one.

Zoro didn’t see her after that… not that he was looking for her. After being told a new time, for the next day, him and Luffy had set out through the airport to find a quiet corner to sleep in. They found it tucked behind a wall, with a set of benches facing each other and, because of its location, completely empty.

It only took five minutes after dropping their stuff and getting comfortable for Luffy to start complaining.

“Zorooooo, I’m hungry,” Luffy whined.

“I’m not your Mother, Luffy. You’re a grown up, go get some food if you’re hungry.”

Luffy sprung up, seemingly taking Zoro’s words as permission and rushed to get his words out, “Great! I’ll be back and I’ll get you something too.”

“Nothing sweet,” Zoro called after him, watching as Luffy took off across the airport in search for something to eat. “Hang on! Do you have money?” He added, except Luffy was already gone and although Zoro said he wasn’t his parent, he sure felt like it in that moment.

With a huff, he laid back down and waited for Luffy to comeback.

Zoro was stirred from his nap by a loud voice. How long had he been asleep? He blinked a few times, trying to gain his bearings and sitting up he could see Luffy coming back. Well, that was the loud voice. But his stomach dropped when he realised why he was being loud; he’d made a new friend on his food trip.

The orange haired woman from the line.

For Luffy, this sort of behaviour wasn’t anything new. The boy was friendly and wherever he went he would make friends but Luffy’s voice echoed in Zoro’s head, ‘I’ll get you something too.’ This sounded a bit too sophisticated for Luffy, but he wouldn’t put it past him. If this is what he meant, Zoro was going to kill him.

Luffy and his new friend stopped in front of Zoro, Luffy’s arms filled with food and Zoro raised an eyebrow at the food in one of her arms too, her free one pulling along her suitcase.

“I ran out of money and Nami gave me money and helped me back with it all! Isn’t that nice?” Luffy chattered, as he fell onto the bench opposite Zoro, a couple of packets dropping to the floor.

“I lent you the money. Lent! You owe me that back, remember!” Nami reminded.

Waving his hand flippantly, Luffy had moved on, now going through his snacks and no doubt deciding what he would eat first. “Oh yeah, I got you this,” Luffy said, throwing a package at Zoro.

Zoro just managed to catch it before it hit him in the face. Sushi. Hm, maybe Luffy did mean the food after all.

Nami was still standing there, hovering and seemingly trying to decide whether to stay or not.

Luffy made the decision for her.

“Sit down! You can stay with us, you’re on our flight, right?” Luffy asked.

She looked between them, “Yeah, but-”

“It’ll be like a sleepover!” Luffy excitedly interrupted her and patted the seat next to him. “We even have all this food! Midnight snacks!”

When she sat down, silently accepting the invite and muttering some excuse about being able to get her money back now, Zoro didn’t miss the triumphant grin that Luffy gave him.

Damn it! He knew it!

.

.

.

Delayed: hour three.

Zoro snorted, midnight snacks his arse. Luffy was currently snoring, spread out on the bench in what must be an uncomfortable angle, and surrounded by empty wrappers.

That left Zoro and Nami. Alone. Just the two of them. Luffy had been the buffer between the two of them and neither of them had really spoken to the other, conversation seemingly running through Luffy. But with him now asleep, there was an awkward lull. Zoro wasn’t a particularly big talker most of the time, let alone with people he didn’t know. He wasn’t particularly good with small talk.

They’d looked at each other a couple of times, both aware of the tension between them before Nami picked up her phone to find something to do and Zoro had picked at whatever food he had left. He should probably just go to sleep.

“So… does he normally crash like that after eating so much food?” Nami asked, breaking the silence between them.

Zoro shrugged. “Luffy eats a lot. Probably has to, to be able to keep up with all the energy he has.”

“Hm, that can’t be healthy for him.”

“Enjoy it whilst you can. Just wait till he wakes up refreshed.” Zoro smirked at her, growing bigger when she groaned.

When they lapsed back into silence, but it wasn’t as stiffening this time. Instead, it was relaxed.

.

.

.

Delayed: hour five.

Zoro needed to pee. He woke up to find Luffy still asleep but also Nami, her book resting against her stomach, meaning she’d fallen asleep reading. He wasn’t surprised, it was late into the night at this point… or morning, he didn’t have the time right now.

He’d seen Luffy at one point go to the toilet and he wandered in that direction

It was fifteen minutes later and Zoro was really starting to need the toilet. But everything looked the same and no matter how many times he tried not to, he ended up in front of Pret again. There wasn’t even anyone to ask. Employees had long since gone home and anyone laying around were asleep. Not that he needed to ask, because he wasn’t lost. He wasn’t.

He continued walking and somehow wound up back where Luffy and Nami was. Except Nami was no longer asleep and he didn’t like the look she was giving him.  He could feel his hackles rising.

“Enjoying a nightly stroll, are we?” Nami asked teasingly.

“And what of it?” Zoro crossed his arms, looking unimpressed.  

“You’ve walked past here three times already, looking baffled each time. Can you not find the toilets?” The look on her face said she already knew the answer, but she still raised an eyebrow, waiting for his admission.

“I’m not lost!” Zoro said, outraged.

“Luckily for you, I also want to go to the toilet, so I’ll show you the way.” Ignoring his denial and taking the lead. Despite his denial, it was very telling when he followed after her silently.

Zoro bit the inside of his cheek when he found out where the toilets were. They were ridiculously close to where they were sitting and now that he was following Nami, he noticed all the signs leading to the toilets.

“Aren’t you going to the toilet?” Zoro asked when Nami didn’t move towards the ladies’ section.

“No, I don’t actually need to go, but you don’t seem like the sort to accept help very easily and I couldn’t bear watching you walk past a fourth, fifth and sixth time.” Nami said breezily.

Zoro didn’t grace her with a response, he stomped off towards the toilets instead, muttering angrily under his breath.

He wasn’t expecting her to wait for him but there she was, leaning against the wall just outside. She smiled at him but didn’t say anything, seemingly getting her fill on making fun of him earlier. It wasn’t new for him anyway; his friends made enough comments about his lack of direction, but it didn’t mean he enjoyed it.

“What woke you?” Zoro asked as they walked back, “You look tired.”

“Is that your way of saying I look bad?” Nami shot back, sending him a warning glance to pick his next words carefully.

“No, it’s my way of saying you look tired.” Women, jeez. Always took things he said the wrong way. It was true anyway, her eyes looked puffy and a bit bloodshot. Otherwise, she looked fine. The ‘more than fine’ echoed in the back of his head, but he pretended not to hear it.

“I struggle to sleep in airports or on planes, I don’t know why, I just always do.” Nami shrugged.

That at least explained her poor attitude at the desk earlier, probably frustrated she wouldn’t be sleeping that night.

As they continued walking, Zoro couldn’t help but feel the trip back was taking longer than their trip there. He probably shouldn’t question it; she’d only start up her tirade on his lack of directional skills. But after another minute, he couldn’t stay silent any longer and voiced his question.

“Oh, I wanted to stretch my legs a bit. Figured you wouldn’t mind.”

“Ever thought about asking?”

“And leave you to find your own way back? We can’t risk losing you, we may not ever find you again.” She smiled mischievously at him.

“I always find my way back.”

“Oh, so you admit that you get lost in the first place?” She looked far too pleased with herself as she looked up at him.

He bristled. “No! That’s not what I- stop laughing, damn it!”

Her laughter drowned out his attempts to defend himself

.

.

.

Delayed: hour seven.

“You’re cheating,” Zoro grit out, levelling Nami with a glare.

“Accuse all you like but it’s only because you’re losing!” She said, placing her cards down with a smug grin and reaching out for a packet of crisps that he’d been eyeing to claim as her prize.

After a couple of hours sleep, Luffy had woken up and Zoro’s previous words had been spot on. Luffy was practically vibrating with energy and it was far too early in the morning to be dealing with that. Nami had sent Zoro an exasperated look and he grinned back, a silent ‘I told you so’ passing between them.

In an attempt to amuse him, Nami had gotten out her pack of cards and suggested they do some gambling. Zoro hadn’t liked the gleam in her eyes when she’d suggested money and had shut her down quickly, he didn’t know her very well, but he remembered well enough her saying something to Luffy about interest on the money she’d loaned him. He was not about to find himself in the same situation, not if he could help it anyway. She’d sighed but agreed and instead suggested the food they had left.

“Yeah Zoro, you suck at this,” Luffy chimed in, sitting beside Nami and eating one of the snacks she’d won.

“You can’t talk! You’re not even in this anymore, you lost all your food ages ago,” Zoro exclaimed. It was true, Luffy had a terrible poker face and gave away so easily when he had a good or bad hand. He had crashed out incredibly quickly.

Zoro watched as Luffy passed Nami one of the crackers he was eating, and they even had the audacity to clink them together in front of them, just rubbing it in his face how badly he was losing. What a traitor. He wasn’t doing terribly, far better than Luffy, but he’d lost more rounds than he’d won and was about to end up foodless.

It carried on this way, Nami wiping the floor with him and she had to be the best poker player he’d ever come across. He was glad he’d trusted his gut about money, he could only imagine how much debt he would be in if he’d agreed. Looking at his current hand, he bit back the grin and kept his face neutral. A straight flush. He had this. And looking at the little food he had left to bet, he had to.

“All in.” Something that would have sounded much cooler if he hadn’t just moved nuts and an orange into the pile.

Nami raised an eyebrow at him, scrutinizing his face but all he did was raise an eyebrow back in challenge. She took the bait, throwing in some of the best food she’d collected and not what Luffy was trying to eat; cake, a soda and the goddamn packet of crisps he wanted.

“Alright, show me what you’ve got,” Nami said, sounding intrigued.

“Straight-flush.” He couldn’t keep the smugness out of his tone or off of his face. His grin was bordering on dangerous, but it faltered slightly at Nami’s Cheshire cat grin.

“Royal flush,” she sang, her hands greedily sweeping the pile of food towards her as Luffy cheered. “You lose!”

“You have to be cheating!” He was outraged, how could someone be this lucky? It was impossible.

Nami laughed gleefully, her head thrown back and as angry as he wanted to be, he couldn’t. This was the happiest he’d seen her since she’d joined them and it suited her, she completely lit up. He found himself reluctantly smiling as she made a grand gesture to sweep the ‘bounty’ towards herself, the mood far too infectious.

His hand snapped out whilst he was gathering up the cards and caught the packet of crisps that had been hurtling towards his head before they hit him. Huh, it was the packet that he’d been eyeing the whole game. Nami was grinning broadly at him and he raised an eyebrow in response, silently questioning her move.

“Your poker face sucks,” was all the explanation she gave.

.

.

.

Delayed, hour eight.

Nami was now sitting on Zoro’s bench, Luffy had fallen back asleep and had kicked her in his sleep. It was an accident, but she still hadn’t been impressed. Zoro had seen her hand twitch and a murderous look in her eye before moving his bag to the floor and offering her a space on his bench. As much as the kick looked like it hurt, the last thing they needed was Luffy awake. He wasn’t sure what was worse, a refreshed Luffy or a grumpy one.

“So, what were you both up to whilst you were here?” Nami’s voice cut through Zoro’s thoughts.

“I was… visiting an old friend and Luffy went to see his brothers.”

“There’s more of him?” She asked incredulously.

Zoro laughed at that. “Yeah, they’re similar but more responsible than him. Probably because of Luffy, though.”

“That’s a relief at least. So what about you? Who’s your old friend?”

“She’s someone I grew up with.”

“Oh,” Nami paused, her tone unreadable, “is she your girlfriend?”

“Why, you jealous?” He quipped back, grinning at her but she refused to look at him. Was it his imagination or did she look a bit flushed? It felt good after all the flack he’s had to put up with… and it didn’t hurt to test the waters. Whatever that meant.

“More wondering how she could be so careless to let you wander out on your own.”

He glowered at the suggestion that he was no better than a toddler, it was a cheap shot, at least in his eyes, but she looked pleased with herself. He smothered down the urge to retort, knowing he would only sound like a child stomping his feet and he was trying to prove he wasn’t.

“She’s dead,” he bluntly supplied instead.

The mood died, any bantering taking a nose dives and Nami’s eyes comically widened, for the first time since meeting her, she was speechless. Her mouth trying to work around words to give him, probably something consoling but he didn’t need that.

“It’s fine, happened a long time ago,” he gruffly interrupted anything she was going to say. It wasn’t a lie anyway, it was fine. “I make a point to go back with Luffy whenever he visits his brothers. I only spend a day there before joining Luffy. We’re childhood friends, so I know his brothers well.” He was sharing more than normal but he couldn’t get his mouth to stop talking. In that moment, he was glad Luffy was asleep, he could imagine the shit eating grin Luffy would be giving him right now and even the thought of it made his ears burn in embarrassment.

“Still, sorry to hear that,” her tone softer than he’d ever heard it before now.  

“Anyway, what about you?” He needed the attention off of him and that look she was giving him. It did funny things to him that he definitely wasn’t ready to think about.

“I was visiting my family… and my dead Mum,” she seemed hesitant to tack on that part but delivered it with humour regardless.

There was a beat of silence.

“Shit, what a cheerful pair we make,” Zoro snorted, the atmosphere lifting, and next to him Nami laughed.

“Nothing like some early morning sharing,” she joked, rubbing her eyes at the tiredness that must be there. Perhaps she’d be able to sleep now.

The reminder of the time drew a yawn from his mouth, it was getting far too late… or early, to be more accurate, and, begrudgingly, he had to admit to himself that he was enjoying her company, but his eyes were burning too much now. He normally slept far more than this.

She seemed to get the same idea as she pulled at her coat to try and make a comfortable pillow. It was a pitiful attempt and even Zoro knew that it’d be like sleeping on stone. He hesitated for a second, weighing up whether to do this or not. In the end he gave in.

“Here,” Zoro said gruffly, thrusting his travel pillow in her direction and refusing to make eye contact.

“How chivalrous of you.” Nami teased, leaning over and gladly taking the pillow from him.

He shrugged. “I’m taking Luffy’s, he’s fallen asleep without it.”

“Maybe not then,” she said under her breath, but he still heard it.  

Normally he’d ignore comments like that, but something compelled him to explain himself. “His has drool stains on, so.”

He had a sinking feeling when he realised why he’d explained himself. He was starting to like her, more than just an appreciative glance and he realised he was venturing into unchartered territory. Snapping his eyes closed, he tried to get comfortable on the seats and ignore any other running commentary in his head… or the soft look she was giving him, seemingly understanding the kindness beneath his gruff words.

They both laid on Zoro’s bench, head’s almost touching as they spread out with Luffy snoring opposite them. There was a peaceful silence, finally matching the early morning atmosphere in the airport for the first time since they’d been there.

“You know, we should probably should have kept Luffy awake so he slept on the plane.” Nami’s voice cut into the lull. “Although, the moment we get onto the plane, that’s your problem. I’m not sat with you two.”

And he knew she was right. A four-hour plane ride with a well-rested Luffy that couldn’t roam around as he pleased. He’d have to hide the sweets they had left in the bottom of his bag.

“Shit.”

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.

.

Delayed, hour ???

“This is the last call for flight FR305. Any remaining passengers for this flight should proceed to gate fifty-eight immediately.”

“Run Zoro, run!” Nami commanded, after the tannoy finished, her arm extended and pointing ahead of them. Because that would make them run faster. “And keep up Luffy, we don’t have time to lose you.”

“Easy for you to say! You’re catching a free ride. Why won’t you carry me too, Zoro?” Luffy whined, coming up beside Zoro, both of his arms behind him to wheel is own suitcase and Nami’s.

“Do I look like a camel?!” Zoro exclaimed. “Why am I even carrying you?” He huffed, adjusting his grip on the woman on his back with one hand, the other trying to keep his suitcase upright. Nami shifted, tightening her legs around his waist so she didn’t slip and Zoro had to try really hard not to think about her pressed up against his back.

“Because you said I was too slow, so get over it. Turn left… now. Left Zoro!” She instructed, yanking his top to the left when he started to veer right.

When Zoro and Nami had fallen asleep, it had been for the last time. All three of them fast asleep on the uncomfortable airport chairs and dead to the world. No one had thought to set an alarm and it was only when sunlight started to stream into Nami’s face that she blearily pried her eyes open. Her stomach dropped when she saw the amount of people walking around in the lounge, a stark contrast to before.

With dread filling her, she’d raised her phone and jumped off the bench at the time. Frantically, she woke up Luffy, shouting at him to move himself because they were about to miss their flight.

The real challenge had been Zoro. Luffy had laughed, telling her he slept like the dead. It had taken her punching him in the arm before he opened his eye and when she’d yelled at him too, he’d taken off, leaving them to hurry after him.

When they were running along a straight, Nami murmured into his ear, “You’re pretty strong, you know.” He had to try and not think about her hot breath on his neck.

“I work out,” He rushed out, resisting the urge to flex the hand supporting her thigh.

“You can tell,” she said it so quietly he almost missed it, whether that was the intention he wasn’t sure, but he did feel the way her arms tightened around his neck. All those hours at the gym felt worth it in this moment.

“Okay, last right and we should be able to see the desk.” Her voice loud again for Luffy to hear. “There it is! Shit! She’s pulling the rope across. Hey! We’re here!” Nami started to frantically wave her hand above her head to get the woman’s attention, clutching at both her and Zoro’s bag tightly with her other hand so she didn’t drop them at the last minute.

Luffy joining in shouting and Zoro pushed against the burning in his legs to speed up. This beat cardio at the gym any day.

It seemed to work, the lady looking up at them and hesitated for a moment before pulling the rope back and murmuring into the walkie talkie on the desk.

“You three sure are lucky, we were just about to close. A second later and you would have missed it,” her voice an odd mix of scolding and fond as she looked at the state of the three in front of her. “Passports and boarding passes, quickly now!”

Boarding the plane, Nami kept her head ducked to avoid any angry glares they may be getting but Luffy and Zoro didn’t care. Zoro had pushed her in front when they’d gotten past the desk, letting her lead the way. When they’d arrived at her seat, the people filed out to let her into her window seat, the man from the middle had jumped out a bit too eagerly and eyed her a bit too much for Zoro’s liking. Narrowing his eyes, Zoro took her suitcase, putting it into the overhead cabin just before the other man could offer.

She’d given him a smile and said she’d see them after the flight. Zoro and Luffy had moved to their seats after that, just two rows down and across from hers.

.

.

.

Zoro’s eyes wandered back over to where Nami was sitting after take-off, just being able to see her through the crack in the seats and felt disgruntled at what he saw. Nami and the man talking. The talking wasn’t the issue, she could talk to whoever she wanted. It was him. Leaning far too into her space and so damn eager, he might as well just drape himself over her. Sensing eyes on her, Nami met his eyes and smiled at him before he looked away, crossing his arms at being caught.

“Nami,” Luffy called, “Nami!” Louder, again. A few people around them sent him an annoyed look, but he didn’t notice.

Nami’s head popped over the seat. “What?” The promise of violence lacing her voice. She smiled apologetically at the people behind her.

“Come here!” Luffy waved his hand towards him, oblivious to the danger he was in. Although, Luffy was in the window seat and even Zoro knew Nami wouldn’t lean across the stranger on the end to punch him.

Rolling her eyes, she disappeared from view and once again asked the people if they’d let her out. The lech next to her obviously had no issue and smiled easily as she slid passed him, his eyes watching her walk away. Creep.  

“Sorry,” Nami apologised to the old lady on the end next to Zoro, “This will be the last time, I promise.” Then she turned to glare at Luffy. “What do you want? I can’t keep getting up like this.”

“What are you eating?” Luffy asked.

Nami looked like she was going to explode at his question, and Zoro wished he wasn’t sat in-between them, he didn’t want to be hit in the crossfire- stranger be damned now.  

Before Nami could respond, the old lady on the end seat was speaking up, “I can swap places with you, dear. You’re friends, right? This way you can sit together.”

“Oh no, no really! That’s not necessary.” Nami was waving her hands in refusal.

“Really? You’d do that for us! That’s so nice, old lady!” Luffy interrupted, leaning over Zoro to beam at the lady.

Zoro elbowed Luffy for his insulting name but the lady didn’t seem bothered, she smiled back and reassured them it’s not issue as she collected her bag. Both Zoro and Nami thanked her, the latter following after the lady so she could collect her own bag.  

The lech’s face dropped when he realised what was happening and Zoro couldn’t stop the grin curling up his face. It soon fell off though when Luffy caught his eye and waggled his eyebrows at him.

Nami flopped onto the seat next to Zoro. “That’s it, I’m done moving”

“Welcome back,” Zoro said, sounding far too pleased with himself and pointing at Luffy beside him, “Seems Luffy is your problem again.” Referring to her earlier words before they both went to sleep.

Luffy began to chatter excitedly.

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.

.

Turns out they weren’t done moving.

Luffy refused to sit still or stop drinking water, so he constantly wanted to get out to either walk about or go to the toilet. Nami had lost her temper when he’d clambered over her, waking her up after finally falling asleep. Luffy and Zoro both got hit for that. Luffy, for clambering over her and Zoro, for letting him, despite his protests.

The new order had Zoro sitting in the window seat, Nami in the middle seat and Luffy on the end so he could run around to his heart’s content and bother other people. Not that that happened.

They were currently playing cards, no gambling after Zoro refused to play whilst shooting Nami an accusing look. So instead it was a game of Uno, adapted to Nami’s playing cards and used her pulldown table to place the game on. Surprisingly, Luffy was quite good at this, as him and Nami currently only held five cards each, whilst Zoro had fifteen.

When Nami slapped down a three of hearts, he cursed and when Luffy put down a joker, his eyes scanned frantically at his fifteen cards. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Fifteen cards and nothing?!” Accepting his fate and picking up six cards.

“Maybe you just suck at all card games,” Nami hummed, Luffy next to her laughing and agreeing.

“No, now you’re both cheating,” and cursed as he adjusted his grip on the cards.

Needless to say, Zoro didn’t win. It instead became a battle between Nami and Luffy, Nami only narrowly winning the best out of five tournaments. It was called off shortly after that as she yawned.

She nuzzled her head back into the headrest and closed her eyes. “Zoro?” She murmured.

“Hm?” He cast her a sideways look.

“Do you have any games on your phone?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Please give it to Luffy so I can sleep. He might be well rested, but I’m not.” Her voice taking on a cranky edge, not that he could blame her. Neither of them had slept much since the delay.

Leaning over, he passed Luffy his phone and that seemed to occupy the boy for the time being.

Nami must have been tired, because her breathing evened out shortly after and Zoro took the opportunity to shut his eyes for a bit too. They wouldn’t be on the plane for much longer, but he still had to make the trip home after landing.

His eye cracked open when he felt a weight on his shoulder and when he looked there was a shock of orange hair contrasting against his green top. He was frozen for a moment and stiffened when she nuzzled against his shoulder to get comfortable, adjusting her position so her body faced towards him.

“You’re really comfortable,” she mumbled tiredly. Was she even aware of what she was saying?

“Yup,” he replied stiffly, what was he supposed to say? But she stayed silent, going still against his shoulder.

Before he closed his eye again, the lech walked past and by the looks of it, was hoping to see her. His face soured though when he saw her cuddled up to Zoro and when their eyes met, Zoro couldn’t resist the triumphant grin that crossed his face. He didn’t care if Luffy saw right now.

But he still made a point of pretending to be asleep before he rested his head on top of hers.

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.

.

When Zoro started to wake, he could feel a crick in his neck starting to form from the odd angle he’d slept in and twisted it around to try loosening it. He felt a weight shift on his shoulder and when he looked down, he was much too close to Nami’s face. He’d completely forgotten just how’d they’d fallen asleep and it seemed she had too based on the shocked expression on her face.

“Oh, um, sorry,” Nami said sheepishly, cheeks flushed and eyes looking everywhere but at him as she took her hand off of his arm. When did that get there?

“S’fine,” He tried to coolly reply, except his face was warm, as was his arm where her hand had been.

“You two have been asleep for ages!” Ah yes, Luffy had been oddly quiet for far too long. “Sure looked comfortable cuddled up together though.” And his words certainly didn’t help the weird tension between them or the flushes on their cheeks.

For the rest of the descent Zoro was far too interested with looking out the window and Nami inspecting the sales brochure. Except neither of them bothered to move their arms, which were still pressed up against each other’s.

.

.

.

As soon as the plane touched the tarmac, Luffy was up and making noise about getting off. Nami and Zoro felt the same though as they awkwardly stood from their seats and tried to stretch as best as they could in such cramped confines.

“Zoro, will you get my suitcase?” Nami asked, pointing over at her old seat.

“Now? It’s packed in here; we’ll have to wait.” He doubted he’d even be able to get out into the isle right now.

“You think he’s going to wait?” She pointed at Luffy who was already trying to muscle his way through the people. Nami just managed to snag his sleeve and haul him back to them.

Sighing, she made a good point. With such tight confines, Zoro had to squeeze past Nami and when he’d chanced a glance at her face, she’d looked flustered. He felt a shot of pride go through him.

Despite his big size, he managed to manoeuvre through and just as he was reaching up to grab her suitcase, the old lady who had swapped seats turned around to face him.

“It’s really sweet that you look after your girlfriend so well.” The old lady said, eyeing the suitcase, as if it was proof of her statement.  

“Uh, no, we’re not-” He stumbled over his words and was aware that strangers were turning to look at him.

“So sweet! Ah young love.” Completely ignoring Zoro as he spluttered, still trying to string his words together. The lady didn’t give him the chance either, turning on her heel to follow other passengers as they finally started to disembark.

“Come on Zoro! We’re moving.” Luffy shouted and he turned to see that Luffy had managed to get their bags. What surprised him was that Nami was wearing his rucksack that he’d left on his seat when he’d left to get her suitcase, her own bag slung over her shoulder.

“What did that lady say to you?” Nami asked as he re-joined them. “It was nice of her to swap.”

“I thanked her for swapping, that’s all.” There was no way he was going to tell her about that embarrassing conversation, if it could even be called that based on its one-sided nature.  

No one questioned that and disembarked the plane, walking across the tarmac and into the terminal. Every so often, Nami’s hand would grab at Zoro’s upper arm to pull him towards her just before he could start to wander in a different direction and every time, he would mutter about the signs being confusing.

The moment they walked through the luggage hall, Luffy was running into the duty free and towards the free food samples he could see. Neither stopped him, embracing the peace whilst they could.

It was then that Zoro suddenly realised he was pulling two suitcases. “Oi, why am I pulling your suitcase too!?”

“I hurt my arm.” Nami pouted, rubbing at her wrist for the first time since she’d been with them.

Zoro’s eyes narrowed. “Convenient. When did this happen?”

“When I was trying to wake your lazy arse up, so you can drop that tone! You only made this flight because of me, remember that!”

He could feel his anger biting at her snooty tone and before his brain could assess whether he should be saying this or not, it was out, “Yeah well it’s your fault I was so tired, I only stayed up to keep you company.”

Nami’s eyes widened at his confession and Zoro felt too hot. In his head it had sounded much harsher, more accusing but out in the open, it sounded so soft.

He was becoming such a sap.

There was a brief moment of silence between them, as Zoro cursed to himself and Nami took in the words.

She saved him the embarrassment in the end. “I don’t know what you’re complaining about anyway, I’m carrying your hideous rucksack. Fair trade,” she grumbled, but there was no missing the pleased expression on her face.

“Tch,” was all he said, all he could say, not fully trusting his brain right now.  

Luffy came bounding up to them then, free samples of chocolate clutched in his hands from the duty free and sales assistants glaring at his back. In that moment, Zoro was glad for Luffy’s timing, although if he was going to be critical, he could have come over a bit sooner.

“So how are you getting home?” Luffy asked, popping a sweet in his mouth and looked far too innocent.

“My roommate’s coming to pick me up, she should be here by now.”

“If she’s not, you can always get a lift with us, saves her the trip.” Zoro glared over Nami’s head at Luffy but he continued to smile back.

Screw Luffy and his timing, how was he still pulling this shit?

Nami laughed lightly, “Thanks for the offer but she doesn’t get lost like Zoro or distracted like you.”

Before Zoro could gripe about being spoken about like he wasn’t there, the doors for arrivals opened and Nami gasped, “Robin!” And she suddenly took off, running towards the woman who he supposed was her roommate.

“Usopp!” Luffy called, and Zoro turned just in time to see Luffy running off in the opposite direction after their friend.

Zoro was used to feeling like a babysitter with Luffy but when he realised he still had Nami’s suitcase and she still had his rucksack, he was wondering when his one responsibility suddenly turned into two.

Rolling his eyes, he followed after Nami, Luffy would be fine with Usopp.

When he reached them Nami had pulled away from the hug and was telling her details of the last twenty-four hours, before Robin stopped her and nodded behind Nami.

She looked surprised that he’d followed her until he was nudging her suitcase towards her and gesturing for his rucksack.

When she handed it over, Robin was looking between the pair and Nami took the opportunity to introduce them. “This is Robin, my roommate and this is Zoro.”

“Ah, Zoro! I’ve heard so much about you-” Nami squeaked at that, turning on her friend as Zoro raised an eyebrow at her, “-but thank you for taking such good care of her.” So the teasing wasn’t exclusively for Nami, much to Zoro’s chagrin. There was a knowing look in Robin’s eyes and matched with the way she’d worded that, she should just join Luffy’s little group.

Speak of the devil.

Luffy came hurtling over, pushing through the throng of people with Usopp hot on his heels, except Luffy didn’t have the same social etiquette and in the end, it was Zoro introducing their friend.

“Oh, so you’re Nami,” Usopp said, shaking her hand and voice filled with so much insinuation, there was no way Luffy hadn’t blabbed. Traitors. The lot of them. Even the newcomer Robin.

“Yeah?” Nami looked confused as she returned the handshake and threw Zoro a wary look, which he shrugged his shoulders at.

Usopp’s phone started to ring and when he picked up, there was a loud, irritable voice on the other end, “Are the shitheads there? I’m in a no stop zone so they better be, otherwise, we’re leaving them. This is the second time I’m risking a fine and they don’t have an excuse of a shitty delay this time.”

Although not on loudspeaker, it was clear enough that the group could hear. Zoro rolled his eye and said to Usopp, “What, could the Pervert not find the pick-up zone?”

“I heard that! You’re the last one I want to hear that from, Marimo!”

“We’re coming!” Usopp rushed out and hung up before a fight could break out. No doubt Usopp would pay for that later. “Okay, we have to go, now!”

“Nami! We’re going to the pub at the weekend, you and Robin are coming,” Luffy demanded, ignoring Usopp’s pleas for them to get going. “Gimme your number and I’ll text you the details.” And made grabby hands for her phone.

“Sounds like fun,” Robin said encouragingly as Nami handed over her phone with a sigh.

As soon as Luffy had finished texting himself from her phone, he relented to Usopp’s pulling, shouting, “See you at the weekend!”

All that left was Robin, Nami and Zoro. Except Robin had taken a step back and so it really just left Nami and Zoro awkwardly staring at each other.

“Well, see you at the weekend, I suppose,” Zoro said, rubbing the back of his neck and shouldering his rucksack.  

“Oh, sure.” Nami sounded disappointed at his words.

Zoro took the first step back before turning around and as he walked towards Luffy and Usopp, he kicked himself. He was interested in the damn irritating woman and he’d just chickened out. She seemed interested, perhaps, maybe, but he hadn’t exactly made himself clear so maybe she was just being friendly? But then why did she look disappointed before he left?

He was giving himself a headache, and this is exactly why he didn’t get involved with other people. Besides, he could be patient, maybe wait this out and see what happens.

Except, when had he ever done that? He was no coward.

God damn it.

“Shit,” Zoro sighed and stopped walking beside Luffy and Usopp. Usopp looked at him, bewildered. “Look after my suitcase, I’ll be back.” And he turned around, jogging back towards the women walking the opposite way.

“Zoro, we don’t-” Usopp’s words were interrupted as Luffy slapped a hand across his mouth.

“It’s happening!” Luffy cheered.    

“Nami!” Zoro called, steadily approaching the women, “Nami!”

She turned on the final call and looked puzzled at his approaching form. She said to Robin that she’d be back and took a few steps towards Zoro until she was standing in front of him. “Did I forget something?” She asked, looking down at Zoro’s empty hands.

“No,” he abruptly said.

“Okay, so… what’s up?”

Okay, he hadn’t thought this far ahead. He was blanking and the longer she looked up at him quizzically, the more he felt like a moron and the more his face felt like it was on fire.

“Uh, well,” he coughed, “I was just wondering, y’know, if you wanted, to ah, I know you’re coming to the pub, but maybe, we could?” This was so much harder than he’d expected.

But Nami’s quizzical expression melted off, instead replaced by a knowing one and somehow that was worse. Now she was aware of what an idiot he was making of himself.

She put him out of his misery fairly quickly by tugging on his top to pull him down and connect their lips. It was the last thing he was expecting but Nami was firm, waiting for him to get over his surprise. He could feel pulsing in his ears and he was sure he looked like a fool, hunched over and arms by his side but he finally got himself moving after a second. The moment his lips responded, moving cautiously over hers, she was pulling away.

“I’ll go out with you, especially when you ask so eloquently,” she said, mirth dancing in her eyes.

And something about that look made it click into place for Zoro. “…Have you been flirting with me this whole time?!”

Nami released his top and threw her hands up in disbelief. “So kissing you is what it takes for you to realise? You’re impossible,” she groused.

Zoro didn’t know how to respond to that and really, she probably had a point… not that he’d tell her that, he’d never hear the end of it. But now it all made sense, the last twenty-four hours washing over him. She was just as interested in him as he was her.

Nami continued on talking when he didn’t say anything, apparently not expecting him to say anything. “Your way of flirting is appalling by the way, has it ever worked on someone before? If Luffy hadn’t have said anything, I never would have guessed.”

That got him talking. “… Luffy?”

“Well yeah, I presumed you had asked for his help, he told me you were interested in me?” She finished her sentence as a question at Zoro’s blank look, her confidence wavering.

Zoro’s head whipped around to glare at Luffy, unimpressed by his gossiping and meddling whilst he wasn’t around. He knew Luffy was being a little shit with Zoro, but he didn’t think his friend had actually said something to her. Luffy wasn’t fazed at Zoro’s expression though, shooting him a double thumbs up and cheery smile with Usopp next to him doing the same thing. They both looked like idiots.

“When,” He flatly demanded when he faced her again.

“When I first met him getting the food and when you were off looking for the toilets… you really didn’t know?” Nami asked, head cocked to the side and scrutinising his face for whether he was being honest.

“You’ve spent the last twenty-four hours with us, what do you think?” He looked to the side, disgruntled and Nami laughed. But then a thought occurred to him. “Wait, if you knew, why didn’t you say anything?”

“And miss out your weird attempts at flirting? Never, this has been gold!”

A look of horror crossing over his face. “You witch!”

“Terms of endearments already? You move awfully fast when you get going,” Nami cooed and her hand reached up to squeeze Zoro’s jaw teasingly.

And just to shut her up, he kissed her. That was the only reason.

But that was hardly believable when he tilted his head to get a better angle as she hummed against his lips and his arms moved to her waist to pull her closer. Her arms circled around his neck as she moved her lips against his.

It would have been a nice moment, if it weren’t for the peanut gallery around them. He could hear Luffy and Usopp’s obnoxious hooting and even Nami’s roommate was clapping. Decided that was enough for now, he pulled away but kept his arms around her and was greeted by a pretty blush on her face.

“Luffy has my number, text me!” Nami said, her arms slipping away from his neck and she took a step back before turning around completely to walk back to Robin.

When Zoro walked back to Luffy and Usopp, they instantly glomped him, noisily taking over each other in their excitement and even Zoro couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He did it.

He turned around for the last time to see Nami walking beside Robin and it looked like she was being teased based on the hands on her cheeks and the look of outrage on her face.

.

.

.

In the car.

Usopp and Luffy were still jeering Zoro as they got to the car and from inside the car Sanji’s knuckles white from clutching the steering wheel, glaring at them through the glass.

“Since when does ‘we’re coming’ actually mean ten minutes later?” Sanji’s irate voice filtering out the car as soon as one of the doors opened.  

“Zoro asked out a woman!” Luffy shouted in excitement, pushing Usopp out of the way to get in the front seat.

“Ah well, tough luck Marimo,” Sanji said with false sympathy, as they filed into the car. “Maybe work on your ugly face and poor attitude and maybe the next one will say yes.”

“She said yes,” Zoro replied, a self-satisfied smirk forming on his face as Sanji bit his cigarette in half.

“And she kissed him!” Usopp cheered, matching Luffy’s zeal.

Sanji’s face whipped around to face Zoro, his face marred in disbelief. “SHE WHAT!?”

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

As much as I love a smooth Zoro, I also love an awkward fool who has no romantic experience. They actually weren’t meant to kiss at all, but how could I do an airport AU without a kiss?!

Fun fact about FR305! When I was younger, I worked in an airport jewellery store and we would have to ask for boarding passes to process purchases. If someone didn’t have theirs on them, I would bash in FR305, a flight to Ireland and continue.

After a while, the airport started complaining to our managers because it was being put in even when the flight wasn’t scheduled for that day, but I always got away with it! They probably realised after I left.

Also… was it obvious I don’t know how to play poker? I researched as much as my brain would allow me to. I do, however, know how to play Uno with normal playing cards (but let’s face it, it’s not really that hard- sigh).

Please forgive any spelling errors, unfortunately I’m only one person.

Thanks for reading.

[fanficwriter013]

The Tower: The Queen Of Asgard - 6

The Tower: The Queen of Asgard An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 2316

Warnings: none

Synopsis: The twins are now three and while the Avengers know that Clint and Thor are the biological father’s none of them know or care which blond, blue-eyed baby is related to which man.  When Riley gets the power to control wind and it becomes evident that she is the heir to the Asgardian throne, Elly, Steve, Thor, and Tony take the twins to Asgard to train her.

Not every Asgardian is happy with their king’s choice of consort, nor the impurity of the heir’s blood.  While others expect Thor to make things more official.  What’s clear is, the role of Queen of Asgard is not easily filled.

Author’s Note: Written with @avengerscompound​ whom encourages me to kick her

Chapter 6 - Asgard

Thor spent the week with us, mostly with two little shadows chasing him around and climbing on him.  Tony organized the start of the Tower remodel while we confirmed a preschool and school for the twins.

The puppies were settling in nicely.   While they were usually gamboling along after either Pietro or Riley but when they weren’t you could find them doing yoga with Clint and Bucky, or going for runs with Sam and Steve.  Quite often you’d find Tony sitting on the couch reading on his tablet while one was asleep on his lap.

It wasn’t long until Thor’s time was up though and on the morning he, Tony, Steve, and I were supposed to be taking the kids to Asgard I was packing the last of the kids’ things with Wanda.

“I think that’s enough books, Piet,” I said as he toddled over with another clutched in his hands.

“Pappa Steve might need to carry that for you,”  Wanda said to Pietro as I put the book in her bag.  “But mommy is right, no more.”

Pietro pointed as his bookshelf.

“Piet, you know Loki will have lots of books,”  I said.

“That’s right.  I bet there’s a great big library.”  Wanda added.  “And you know what I want you to do for me?”

“What?”  Pietro asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“I want you to get a good look all around the library.  Then when you come back you can think about it and I’ll get to see it too.”  Wanda said.

“Otay, Daj,”  Pietro said.

“Thank you, my sweet boy,”  Wanda said.  “You know I would love to go with you.”

Pietro flopped into her arms and hugged her as I did one last check of the bags.  “I think that’s everything.”

“Okay, Piet, you better go say a special goodbye to daddy Clint,”  Wanda said putting the little boy back down.

“Otay.  I find him.”  Piet said and just ran off.

“Piet!  You gotta wait for us…”  I called.  “... and we lost him.”

“Sorry,”  Wanda said.  “I just… you know how he gets.”

“Yeah.  He’s probably feeling a little like you are right now.”  I said getting up and picking up both the bags.

“He’s probably hiding.  Or perching.  Or sulking.”  Wanda said.  “Figured it would be easier to get him out if his baby went to find him.”

“FRIDAY, can you make sure Clint knows that Piet is running around the house looking for him?”  I said.

“Of course, Miss,”  FRIDAY replied.

“You ready, bug?”  I asked.

She picked up another bear and nodded.  She toddled over to Wanda and held her arms up.  “Up, pwease.”

“Since you asked so nicely,”  Wanda replied, picking her up.

She nuzzled into Wanda’s neck.  “Me gamau dut, daj.”

“Mmm…”  Wanda hummed, stroking her hair.  “Me gamau dut.”

We went out to the living room with Riley and the bags and found Steve pacing and counting his fingers while Tony and Sam both sat on the couch, and Natasha was stretched out on the recliner.

“What’s going on?”  I asked.

“Someone is being a perfectionist,”  Natasha said.

“Steve?”  I asked, dropping the bags.

“Did we pack everything?  What if we forget deodorant?”  He asked, not breaking his pace.

“I’m pretty sure Asgard has things.”

“But what if the kids can’t sleep?”

“It’s not a one-way trip, sweetheart.”

“What if they don’t like us?”  He asked.  “Or Piet?”

I came over to him and stepped in front of him, breaking his pacing.  I took his hands and looked up into his eyes.  “They don’t have to like us.  It’s not about us.  And I’m pretty sure if any of them were awful enough to do anything negative to Piet, Loki would personally put a knife in them.”  I leaned up and kissed his cheek.  “This is just a test run to see how it works.  If it’s no good we don’t go back.”

Steve nodded and circled his arms around me.  “Okay.”

“We ready to go then?”  I asked.

“Yeah, I guess we’re ready,” Steve said.  “Our things are already out there.”

They got up and Steve grabbed the bags, while Sam took Riley off Wanda.  “Are you gonna have a bunch of fun on Asgard, bug?”  He asked

“Yep,”  Riley said simply.  “Daddy For is gonna teach me to fly.”

Sam chuckled.  “Is he now?”

“Yep.  Den we can fly togever,”  She said.  “You wike to fly, daddy?”

“I love it,”  Sam said, leaning his forehead against Riley’s.

“I wuv it.”  Riley mimicked.

The others were all outside waiting gathered together on the lawn with the bags for Steve, Tony and I.  There was a long series of hugs and kisses goodbyes between those that were leaving and those who were staying.  While pretty much all of them had been separated from the kids for small periods of time due to missions, it was the first time the kids were leaving the compound for any significant time.

“Now, what?”  I asked, looking at Thor.

“Gather around me,”  Thor said.  I herded the kids over to him while Steve brought the bags over.

“I shall hold the children.”  He said, scooping them back up.  “Now, it will feel like you are being pulled up very rapidly.  Stay as still as possible.  Do not touch the edges of the Bifrost.”

We nodded and moved closer to him.  We waved goodbye and while we were waving a bright iridescent light engulfed us and we were dragged upwards fast enough to make my eyes water.  The next thing I knew we all stumbled forward into a large golden-domed room.  Pietro started crying while Riley just looked around.  In the center of the room, a man with a large golden helmet and golden eyes twisted a sword and pulled it free from a pillar.

“What have you done to my child, you buffoon?”  Loki said striding into the room.  She was in her female form and wore a long green cape over her scaled armor.  Her horned helm looked more like a crown than a helmet.  “Why don’t you come to your Aunt, child?”

Pietro held his arms out and Loki took him from Thor.  “Aundie Woki!”  Riley squealed, kicking her legs.

“My little troublemakers,”  Loki said affectionately as Thor put Riley down and she ducked under Loki’s cape.  “Sorry I was late.  I was finishing up with the festivities.”

“Festivities?”  I asked.

“Yes,”  Loki said with a look on her face like I was the biggest and most annoying idiot that had ever dared to speak to her.

I looked over at Thor completely confused and hoping that he might be able to clear things up for me.

Loki muttered something under her breath.  “You didn’t tell them?  What?  Better to have them ambushed?”

“What’s happening?”  Steve asked.

“Oh,”  Loki chuckled.  “The people are very excited to finally get to see the heir to the throne and their kings chosen consorts.”

For a moment I wasn’t sure if she was being sarcastic or not.  “Seriously?”

“By the Allfather, you are dense.”  Loki scoffed.

I shoved her.  “Hey!  I’m the one that’s nice to you.  Watch it.”

She chuckled and waved her hand.  “This is a big deal.  There will be a procession and later a feast.  Brother, I can’t believe you didn’t tell them.”

I looked over at Steve.  “I guess they like us?”

“I guess,” Steve said with a small shrug.

Heimdall stepped forward.  “There is a carriage awaiting you outside.”  He said.  “You as the chosen consorts will be awarded special treatment.  You particularly, my lady.  As the mother to the heir, you hold a position akin to the queen.  The children will be of special interest, particularly Riley as the firstborn heir.  They will not be interfered with.  No one will approach them without permission.”

I nodded.  “Thank you.”

“Of course, my lady.”

“Are we ready then?”  Loki asked.

I nodded and we were led out to where a group of mounted guards were waiting, surrounding an open-topped carriage.  Thor, Loki, Tony, Steve, the kids, and I all got in the back.  I moved up close to Thor, wrapping my arm around his, as Riley moved to the edge of the carriage and looked down at the rainbow road and Pietro sat in Loki’s lap looking at the horses excitedly.

The whole thing was overwhelming to look at.  A huge golden city loomed off in the distance, sitting on a planet that was a physical impossibility.  Just an island floating in space, water running off the edge into nothing.  We were looking at it standing on a road that looked like it was made of thick iridescent glass that was suspended over space.

It was impossible and beautiful and I couldn’t believe where we were.

“Are you ready, my ctshanzar?”  Loki asked Pietro, who was making soft hiccuping noises as he looked at the horses.

“You may need to shield him,”  I warned.  “It might get a little overwhelming for him.”

“You think I’d let that happen?”  Loki asked.

“No.  Just… You normally see him when he’s in the comfort of his own home.”  I said.  “Not like this.”

“I repeat.  Do you think I’d let that happen?”  She said, narrowing her eyes at me.

“No.”

“That’s better,” Loki said.  “I’m just waiting to hear he’s ready before I get the signal to start.”

“I’m otay, Aundie Woki.”  He said softly.  “I got books I wanna show you.”

Loki gave a signal and the horses started down the road in their procession.  “You’ve got books for me?  I would love to see them.  We’ll have to get you to your room and unpack.”

“I maded a picture.”

“For me?”  Loki said.  “I can not wait to see it.”

I smiled as I watched them.  As hard to read and flat out unpleasant Loki could be, they were always good with the kids.  Pietro, in particular, had a very strong bond with them which finding out that he was not the heir, was a little copacetic really.  They were both excited to see her.

“Undie Woki.  We god two puppies.”  Riley said.

“Two?”  Loki asked.

“Spoddy and Tyr,”  Riley said as she bounced beside Loki.

“Can we see, Fenwiwr?”  Pietro asked.

“I’ll have to consider that, my darling.  He is very large.”  Loki said.  “But I’ll see what I can do.”

I rubbed Thor’s arm and looked up at him.  “Are you okay, my love?  You seem a little stressed out.”

He nodded.  “I should have told you, but I was worried you would change your mind and not let them come.”

My heart broke for him.  I couldn’t imagine how hard it is to see his own kids so rarely because he was bound to Asgard as its king.  I took his hand and played with his fingers and he kissed the top of his head.  “I am sorry I kept this from you.”

“It’s okay.  No more secrets though.”  I said.

“I promise.”

Riley was moving around the carriage trying to look at everything.  She leaned over the edge and squealed.  “Daddy!  Dat’s space down dere!  Dat’s space down dere!”

“Yes, it is,”  Thor said, holding onto her shirt as she leaned over the edge.

She stood up and moved over to Tony, climbing into his lap and wrapping her arms around him.  “Its otay, daddy.  I god you.  You safe.”

He smiled and held her close.  “Thank you, bug.”  He looked over at me.  “How’d she know?”

I shrugged.  “She’s a sponge.”

The horses reached the end of the bridge and I began to hear the people.  When we passed through a gate, a loud cheer broke out and Riley looked up while Steve and I tensed.

People lined the streets, cheering and calling out our names.  Mostly Thor or Riley but I heard my name, Steve’s, Tony’s, and Pietro’s in the mix.  Riley climbed off Tony’s lap and moved into Thor’s climbing him to get a better view, which made the crowd roar louder.  Pietro made a small squeak sound and burrowed into Loki’s neck.

I started to twist my hands nervously and Tony wrapped an arm around me.  “You have to fake it, honey.”  He said.  “Shoulders back, chest out, fake smile.”

I nodded.  “Right.  But my heart.”

“It goes in a box.  They can’t hurt it.”

I tapped my fingers on his leg and smiled out at the crowd, but my heart was hammering.  “It’s making me flashback to that day we had to force our way out of the press conference after we went public.  We’ve done other things though.  I go to events with you and it’s fine.  Is it the kids?”

Tony took my hand and squeezed it.  “Do you need me?”

I nodded and he pulled me close and kissed the top of my head.  “You know I love you right?”

I nodded.  “Yeah, I know.”

I looked at the kids to see how they were handling the whole thing.  Pietro was still snuggled in against Loki, but he seemed to be relaxed.  Riley was standing up on Thor’s lap and waving at people.

I tapped my fingers on Tony’s hip.  “We’re on another planet.”

He chuckled.  “I know.  I’m trying to internalize my geek out.”

“We’ll have to geek out together later,”  I said.

“Our little boy is doing better than I thought.”

“He is.  Looks like he’s about to fall asleep.”  I agreed.

“It’s all going to be fine.  Trust me.”  Tony said.

I leaned against him as we wound our way through the city.  They moved up to the gates of the palace and we all got out of the carriage.  I looked up at the palace.  It loomed over us in all its golden splendor.  Two guards opened the doors for us.  “Well, here we are,”  Thor said.  “Welcome home.”

// NEXT

[quackmyback]

Heads or Tails : chapter one

Will Byers x Fem!OC

Hi friends, I don't think anyone actually read chapter zero, besides myself ofc, so I decided to post Chapter One today like I said I would :)

MADMAX AND THAT ASS

Mason pulled herself from a restless sleep, blinking away the gunk layered across her pupils and trying to swat away the sun streaming through the window. Slowly, she sat up and messed with the knots in her hair and she watched Max peacefully snore with her blanket half on her and half on the floor.

"Max," Mason called to her sister in hopes of waking her from her dreams. "Max. Dude!" Mason threw a stuffed animal -- a small, kind of deflated elephant her dad had got her years ago -- and nailed Max right in the nose.

"What the hell, Mase?"

"Get up, we have a one-way ticket to hell in about fifteen minutes." Mason threw her blankets off her legs and headed over to her and Max's shared wardrobe -- picking out a simple outfit that she hoped wouldnt get her taunted on her first day at school.

The twins juxtaposed each other:  while Max wore her hair down, Mason tied it up with braids and and excessive use of hair clips, while Max liked baggy jeans and larger hoodies -- Mason preferred oddly patterned skirts with white shirts and denim jackets. Both girls only owned one pair of shoes: Max's were a red pair of converse they had found super cheap at a thrift store while Mason's were a weird off brand of keds that were fully white.

Mason walked out of the room, back to the bathroom, and shouted back to her sister, "and you better hurry your ass up, because I am not biking to school!"

"Whatever, dork!" Max slammed the door to their shared bedroom.

• ○ •

W

hen Billy parked the car, Max and Mason exited. Mason gazed around to see everyone staring at her new step-brothers ass and, while delighted it wasn't at her, her lip curled in disgust. She sped walked to catch up to her sister, who was slowly skating towards the Middle School across the parking lot.

"This is gonna be a total nightmare," Max scoffed glaring at everyone around them who dared to take a glance towards the Mayfield twins.

"Maybe" -- Mason shrugged -- "maybe not."

The girls continued their slow, torturous walk to school -- stopping at the front desk so that Mason could ask for their schedules. Assuming that their classes would be the same, Mason felt misery when she realized she would have to part from Max for art.

Max sighed, "Well, at least you dont have Drama with Mrs. Cockwit."

The girls looked at each other before their faces broke into smiles, Mason examined their schedules side by side once again. "Science," she said. "We should probably hurry and go find-"

"-That wont be a problem, Miss Mayfield." The twins turned suddenly to find a burly man behind them, the principal they assumed. Now, they're own personal tour guide. "I will be leading you to your first class, please the bell will ring shortly, so follow me."

They did, reluctantly, follow him to a wooden door where they could faintly hear the teacher teaching his wisdom to a class full of kid more likely than not to drop out of three years. They walked in, quickly as to avoid as much attention as possible. Though when Mason had looked up when passing the teachers desk, she realized that wasn't going to be easy.

"Ah, these must be our new students!" Mason's attention snapped to the teacher, she had realized on her schedule his name was Mr.Clarke.

"Indeed it is," the principal who had herded the two into the classroom confirmed,"All yours."

Mason rushed to follow Max to the back, yet they were stopped about as fast as Max could rolled her eyes.

"All right, hold up." Mr. Clark held put his hand to stop the two and smiled. "You dont get away that easy."

Mason barely muttered under her breath, not even enough for it to really reach her own ears. "One could hope."

Mr. Clark continued his introduction, as if the two girls weren't capable of saying their own names. Mason was more than capable of having a panic attack discretely, surely she could say her name to a classroom full of people. Wait a minute.

"Come on up, dont be shy. Dustin, drum roll." A kid in the front, who wore a hat and a dinosaur hoodie, closed his notebook and drummed his fingers against it. "Class," Mr. Clark began," please welcome, all the way from sunny California, the latest passengers to join us on our curiosity voyage, Mason and Maxine."

Mason swallowed and shuffled awkwardly, "Uh, I'm actually Mason and that's-"

"Max. Not Maxine," Max interrupted her sister, eager to sit down and hide away from the vulturous stares of the class.

"Oh, well, I'm sorry. Um, all aboard, Max and Mason."

The twins hurried past him, finding empty seats in the near back of the class -- Mason scoring one near the window. She pulled her notebook from her backpack and pulled one of her many colorful pens from the side pockets -- the only happiness she ever was given was from those pens.

She sat there for a moment, staring at the blank page in front of her and barely hearing Mr. Clarke lecturing the class. Not surprisingly, she also barely notices Max's elbow slowly shoving Mason's notebook off the desk.

"Dude" -- Mason barely caught the book before it fell and furrowed her brows -- "what the hell?" She dropped her voice to a whisper in Hope's of not getting in trouble on her first day at school for Max's mischief.

"Those guys upfront keep staring at us," Max whispered through her hair. Mason's eyes flickered up and, lo and behold, the four boys were, indeed, staring at them. Well...

"They arent staring at us," Mason corrected, "they're staring at you. "

"Why?"

"How the hell should I know?" Max turned to face forward, playing with her hands after her sister said that. Mason sighed," Don't worry, I have an idea."

Max nodded, trusting her sister,"Okay."

With that, Mason grabbed the top of her blue pen with her teeth and popped it off. She wrote the first thing that came to mind in big letters.

• ○ •

Mason walked into the art room, it was lined with floor to ceiling windows and every wall was a different color. The room was fairly empty, Mason assumed it was because art was pushed onto students as much as sports or academics.

She sighed and took a seat by the window. Some one pulled the stool beside her out and sat down. Mason looked over to find one of the boys who were staring at her sister. He smiled, a small smile that didn't really reach his eyes. He looked like he had a lot on his mind, way too much to deal with for a small boy his age.

"Hi, uh, I'm Will."

Mason returned his smile, her hands were shaking; she buried them in the pockets of her jacket.

"I don't think I need to introduce myself." Mason looked down at the table, he had his sketchbook out and she didn't -- she anxious that she was supposed to already have it out. Did anyone else have it out? Her eyes danced around the room, avoiding Will's beautiful brown ones the whole time.

He noticed her behaviour, and it barely seemed unusual until he realized her leg was bouncing quickly and her bottom lip was pulled tight between her teeth. When she released it from its death grip, he could see the scabs forming across the sensitive skin.

"You'd be right," he laughed, hoping to calm her down,"Mason, yeah? That's a pretty cool name."

"It's a boy's name." Mason ducked down below the table to retrieve her sketchbook from her back pack.

"It can't be a boy's name." Mason looked at him for the first time since he sat down next to her. He smiled goofily, she saw that it reached his eyes this time. Her heart leaped. "How can it be a boy's name if it's your name?"

Mason's lips parted and her leg stopped bouncing for a second, but her hands had exited her pockets and were bending the bottom corner of her sketchbook. "Well, I think my parents wanted a boy."

"Well, I think my mom wanted a dog." He spun a lock of his hair around his finger, "She got the shedding and, I offered to play fetch with her, but she thought that was weird."

Will felt pride swell in his chest, a smile broke out across his face after a sweet snippet of laughter fell from her lips.

Mason let her laughter die into a small smile and she glanced at him, "Hey, I'll, uh, I'll show you mine if you show me yours?"

Will glanced down at his sketch book anxiously, "O-Okay."

They grinned, exchanging books and looking through the other's masterpieces. Each other, carefully calculating their looks at each other to see the other's reaction towards their pride and joy.

• ○ •

"He seemed nice," Mason defended her new friend, despite Max's efforts to deter her away from him.

"No way, he's one of the creeps who stared at us." Max slammed her hand down onto the button and violently yanked the joystick.

"They were staring at you, and maybe they arent creeps maybe they just are curious about the new kids and are too scared to approach."

Max quickly diverted her attention from Dig Dug to Mason and back to Dig Dug before she died. "If that were true, they would've been looking at you too." Mason sighed loudly, laying her head against the side of the machine. "Now, dude, you're really killing my Dig Dug vibe."

"Whatever," Mason shover herself off the machine and turned to her sister, "I'm gonna get a soda, you want anything?"

"Grape and a snickers."

"Got it."

Mason walked away, her hands in her pockets jingling she change, she rubbed her fingers over the rough circles repeatedly to assure herself she had enough to pay for everything.

"What can I get for you," The guy behind the register asked. Mason's eyes dashed across the menu even though she already knew what she wanted.

"Uh, yeah, can I get a strawberry and a grapefruit fanta plus two snickers." She looked down at her pocket to pull out the change. "Oh, uh, please.m," Mason quickly added.

"No problem."

While she waited, Mason leaned against the counter and faced towards where Max was standing at the Dig Dug machine working her magic. Then, her eyes fell on the two boys from their science class."

"Oh, you've got to be shitting me."

As if they sensed her looking at them, the glanced behind them and their eyes widened -- busted.

"Position has been comprised! Fall out!" The curly haired boy shouted, Mason watched as they ran out the door. She sighed, shaking her head and turned towards the counter where the guy had set down her order.

"Thank you." She handed him the money and retreated back to Max. She sighed as she handed max her snickers and held onto the soda for when she finished the game she was playing.

"What's got your panties in a knot?" Max barely glanced at her, taking a giant bite of her snickers.

"Fuckin' creeps." Mason cracked the top of her strawberry soda and took a gulp.

[cassercole]

the one where he’s got a kid (pt. 1/?)

SHIP: Q PROCTOR/STEVE ROGERS (QUEVE), PROCTOR-ROGERS FAMILY FEELS RATING: TEEN WORD COUNT: 1,812 PROMPT: INSPIRED BY @emiliachrstine‘s DRABBLE // An AU where Steve doesn’t know he has a teenage daughter.   TAGGING: (permanent tag list): @whindsor, @fraysquake, @elenacarinandherfandoms​, @peplumsandpitches​ (those who encouraged it): @sgtbuckyybarnes @thegalanerd (WANT TO BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST?)

( PART TWO ) ( PART THREE )

Her mother always told her how her father was a hero. Saved the world, multiple times, for them. His family. Because he loved them. She was smart enough to know how the story ended: her father dying a heroic death. Even though her mother never told her how or when it happened, Bonnie Proctor knew her father had to be dead. There weren’t any pictures of him around the house -- she had already looked through the photo albums to try and find any potential man who could be. Even some sort of memorial set up above the fireplace, dedicated to him, like she had seen in movies. It was probably too painful. So she never asked, just listened to the stories her mother told her about how much her father loved her. Them.

When she was younger, she asked a lot of questions about her father. Ones that her mother either didn’t have the answer to or passed on the question. When she did get an answer or two, they were always the same variation of previous responses. She learned to stop asking about him. She accepted the fact that she didn’t have a father. At least she had her mother. Some people didn’t have that either.  

It wasn’t so bad, being just the two of them. Sure, sometimes she was a bit bitter about not having a dad to do father/daughter type things. But whenever that happened, she counted on her Uncle Dawson to step in -- which he did, begrudgingly of course (though she knew he secretly loved it). But she loved her mom and knew she always had her best interests at heart.

“Don’t you dare give me that bullshit about how you’re doing this to protect her again, Q.” Dawson cut off his friend as she opened her mouth to respond to his previous comment, “You can only use it so many times.” 

“But it’s true.” she responded as she packed up Bonnie’s lunch for her field trip, “I’m saving her from the same pain I go through every time he leaves.” she sighed, pressing the phone in between her shoulder and ear, “It’s not fair for her to have to deal with him coming and going at random times.” she paused, “And I can’t tell him either. He’d be too distracted with the thought of her while he’s fighting off whatever alien invasion there is and get himself killed.”

“Or maybe he’d finally hang up that shield of his.” Dawson pointed out. Q scoffed and reached up to pull her phone from the nook between her shoulder and ear, switching sides.

“We are talking about the same person, right? My husband, Mr. Save the World.”

“I believe it’s pronounced: Captain America.” he corrected her, not seeing her eye roll, “And besides, you don’t know that.” 

“Except that I do.” she reminded him, knowing she knew him better than she knew herself, “Listen, it’s only a few more months until she’s eighteen and then...I’ll tell her.” she finished, already getting nervous about the conversation she was going to have with her daughter. It was something she had decided before Bonnie was even born. The choices were either wait until Steve finally decided to retire or until Bonnie turned eighteen, and it seemed Bonnie turning eighteen was about to come first. She wasn’t surprised at all. 

It’s not like she didn’t want to tell Steve. She did. She thought about telling him countless times. But then he would leave abruptly or call her from some undisclosed location and she was reminded of what life would be like. Raising a child on her own, dealing with the emotional stress of having a father like Steve. One who ran headfirst into danger without thinking about the outcome because it was what was right. One who disappeared in the middle of the night because he got a call about a potential threat. One who probably wouldn’t make it to birthdays or father-daughter dances because he was busy saving the world. She had learned to live with knowing that she came after, but she couldn’t do that to her child. So she decided to just raise Bonnie on her own; regardless, she would be doing that even if she had told Steve.    

Hopefully, one day when the time came, Bonnie would understand that Q was just trying to protect her. Protect her from the pain that she had lived with for the past twenty-odd years. And that she wanted to tell her too, but time passed too quickly. She got caught up in her sorta-kinda-lie, and it was just easier to keep telling it. But for now, she was going to finish packing her daughter’s lunch for her field trip.  

__________________________

A long time ago, Steve had given up the thought of ever having a traditional, nuclear family. The white picket fence with a dog and two and a half kids faded from his imagination with each passing year. Instead, it was replaced with the family he did have: his beautiful wife, his brother in arms and the rest of his friends. That was his family and he was grateful for it. 

Sure, he thought about settling down, retiring and giving up the shield to someone else. Get a chance at that life Tony spoke of so long ago. But each time he thought about it, something came up or got in the way to remind him of why that wasn’t possible. He was Captain America. He had people to protect. And after Thanos, there were a lot more threats that decided Earth was ground zero for whatever mission they planned. Hostile takeover more often than not. How could he possibly just walk away?

In passing, whenever he mentioned it to Q, she seemed fine with their current situation. Happy, in fact. They had wasted so much time and had time taken from them that she was content with whatever she was able to get. Or at least that’s what she had convinced him of. They had reverted back to their ways pre-Thanos, but post-Accords. He spent weeks to months away on various missions, protecting the planet from threats from both the ground and worlds above them. They saw each other infrequently, but frequently enough that it didn’t matter. And there was no reason to sneak around in fear of the government finding out and then coming to arrest both of them for treason. 

He had tried to make it better. Not really liking how long they had been spending apart -- which was why summers had become theirs. He made himself AWOL and she took the summer off from her now boringly real job (nothing compared to the excitement brought on by working with the Avengers). They relaxed in the mountains in Pennsylvania, far away from any alien attacks or marketing crises. A blissful three months of pure heaven. 

One day, he hoped to extend the three months into forever. But there wasn’t any pressing reason to besides his own selfishness. And besides, he had a world to protect. 

From the moment he had woken up in 2012, he had been fighting aliens. Something he never would’ve believed if someone had told him so in 1941. Nazis? Sure. Aliens? You’re fucking crazy. Yet, he had. Multiple times. And there he was again, in the middle of New York, once again fighting off a horde of disgusting creatures as they descended on the city. Just as they had in 2012. This damn city couldn’t get a break, could it?

Hitting back one alien, he looked out across the scene of chaos before him. People were running to what was assumed safety -- really anywhere out of the open area. Cars had been flipped over from the weapons the aliens had used. A few fires spurting up here and there that both people and aliens avoided. His teammates were dealing with their own aliens and keeping those they could safe, herding them away from the street and into the museum they were in front of. 

As he scanned the area, he spotted a small group of teenagers backing away from a rather large and intimidating alien that was stalking toward them. It growled and snapped it’s jaw at them, making a few yelp in fear. All of them were covered in dust and soot, clearly having been near the first blast site. One was supporting another who was dragging their leg behind them, another tried to defend the others with what seemed to be a pipe of some sort. 

From his vantage point, he could see the glowing yellow of the alien’s body weapon powering up. The teens didn’t notice, too focused on the injured and the other aliens that were beginning to surround them. He took a bounding leap, jumping over a few overturned cars and launching himself off another piece of fallen debris so he could get to where the group was a bit faster. He came down hard, in a rather superhero-like landing, while his arm immediately went up to block the blast of energy from hitting the teenagers behind him. It ricocheted off of his shield and bounced back against the alien itself. Another came snarling at him from the side, making him use his fist to hit it across the face. 

“Hold this for a second, will ya?” he turned to glance at the girl directly behind him for a split second, handing off his shield to her. A small way to protect herself while he continued to fend off the aliens coming at them. 

Bonnie took it tentatively and held it in front of it. It was lighter than all of her textbooks said it was. Even if it were made out of the strongest metal on Earth, she felt like she could snap it in half if she bent it too hard in one direction.

“Thanks.” his voice got her to look up from where she had been studying the shield for the past few minutes instead of paying attention to the chaos around her. And then she realized who exactly she was looking at. 

The dark red, white and navy blue costume was different than the ones in the PSAs they made her watch in school, or even the one that was on display at the Smithsonian. He was tall with his dirty blonde hair falling in front of his bright blue eyes. The eyes that scrunched up around the corners thanks to the easy smile on his face, despite the terrifying things that were going on around them. She had seen him countless times before: picture in textbooks, video PSAs that played before gym, the comic books her Uncle Frankie kept in the attic, but nothing compared to how he looked in person.    

“Holy shit, you’re Captain America.” she breathed out before her world went dark.

[frenchy-and-the-sea]

POI - Bandages

This piece is a bit dated now, but a few months ago, our lovely d&d group managed to blow up a train while defending it from some wyvern-riding bandits. The whole thing derailed with half of the party being flung from it, and half being trapped inside. There was a lot to suss out after the fact, but I like to imagine this little scene happened at some point between the explosion and Val being well enough to think clearly.

1887 words.

Val came to with smoke in her nose and a high, keening wail in her ear.

Familiarity with this nightmare did her little good in it. Although she could feel the lash of cold and smell the smoke, although she could practically see the burning ship spitting fire as it was overtaken by the sea, she couldn’t quite will herself to do more than squeeze the two bodies closer to her side, and pray that sense returned quickly.

And it did, at some terrible length. The vague images of a burning ship sinking into an equally burning ocean were whisked away as she blinked the last of the stars from her eyes, replaced instead by a bloody wreckage of luggage and glass and twisted, groaning metal. A shattered window opened up to the sky above her, summer-blue, against which a plume of thick black smoke was rising. 

She slowly tested each limb – legs first, then both arms – and nearly leapt out of her skin when the wailing got suddenly louder. Wincing, she lifted the shield off of her chest to reveal two sets of watery eyes staring up at her, from two very bruised little human faces. The one crying suddenly sucked in a breath and clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide as dinner plates.

“Easy,” Val managed to croak out, then buckled into a ragged cough. Wrenching pain tore across her side as she did, so ferociously that she nearly cried out herself. But there were still eyes watching, glassy with tears, and she grit her teeth together just hard enough to keep it behind them.

Bracing against the wall beneath her, she pushed up onto her elbows and nudged both girls upright. They scrambled up to their feet with matching squeaks, but did not run.

The world came back faster as she pushed herself further up, arriving in bigger, more nauseating waves. The gash in her side protested even very simple movements, and bile pressed hard on the back of her throat in constant reminder of exactly how nasty of a hit she had taken before the world had flipped itself sideways. She got to her knees as the next dizzying rush hit her, this time with a gasp and chorus of voices all shouting at once.

One was Ianry’s, unintelligible and calling from a window somewhere overhead. Then came Rona’s, crying out in surprise as a dark blur suddenly staggered past Val and swept itself around the two girls clinging to each other a few inches away. The human woman was bleeding heavily from her head, and staggered along with a limp, but her open sobbing meant that she was still, at least, very much alive.

Small miracles, Val thought, then wrenched around and promptly vomited into a nearby heap of rubble.

She had just started to think that she had gotten both the poison and most of the last two days of free meals out of her when two small hands reached into her peripheral and swept the thick tangle of her hair aside. She glanced sideways to find Rona peering down at her through dirt-covered curls, her brow wrinkled with worry.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Val held up a hand.

“’m fine,” she rasped, trying from the very depths of her memory to coax up a smile. “Used to this. Sailor, y’know?”

She pushed herself fully onto her feet with Rona’s hand steadying her, doing her marked best to ignore the pull of agony in her side. Above her, she could just make out Ianry shouting for a rope, and curled her lip in disgust. Climbing was right out, in her state – likely, in the state of most of the people that their healers had pulled from the brink. She turned slowly, squinting through the haze of dust and slowly shambling bodies, and spotted the hatch in an instant.

It gave easily under the flat of her boot, thundering against the roof of the train so loudly that she could practically hear the attention turning towards her.

“Out,” she croaked, and gestured weakly at the hatch. There was a long beat of silence; then the bodies of the living pressed forward in one panicked rush, and the survivors all began the long, steady crawl out towards the open air.

Val managed to keep it together long enough to herd the last of the survivors into the field, and get a few feet away from the smoldering train car before everything gave out at once.

She clattered to the ground in a noisy heap as the world pitched sideways again, and for a brief, terrible moment, she felt like she might wake up and find herself in the steaming wreckage of yet another crash. Instead, her vision tilted violently back, sending her into another spiral of nausea that made her heave.

Two small hands appeared on her shoulder in an instant, and carefully eased her back.

“No, no talking your way out of this one,” Rona said before she could protest, and then began circling, hands working through the ties and belts that held her armor in place. Val grumbled, but let her go, eventually sitting forward and trying to wedge her own hands in to help. Her fingers felt thick and slow though, and by the time she had made it through a single gauntlet, Rona was already unlatching the belts of her breastplate. Val felt her tug them apart too late to stop her, and winced when she stepped back with a strangled gasp of alarm.

“Val,” she whispered, and Val didn’t have to look to know what she had found. Instead, she shifted, trying to set the side of her breast plate back over the wound like that would somehow erase the sight of it. All that did was send another agonizing pain lancing up her side, and pull a tiny noise of indignation out of Rona as she yanked the plate back out of the way.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she snapped, hands flaring to life with sudden burst of white light that, even in periphery, was nearly blinding. Val grimaced and eased herself around as carefully as she could manage before snatching at the halfling’s glowing fingers.

“Because I knew you’d do this,” she wheezed, tightening her grip, “and because I knew other people would need your help first. Like you, for instance. What about you?” She held on just long enough to watch the light dim beneath her fingers, then slid her hand up to Rona’s cheek, carefully brushing a strand of matted hair out of the way. “I saw you go tumbling around that train car, Rona. I...I tried to get to you, but…” The image of the human girls curled against her side, tucked safely away behind her shield, came too quickly to stop, and Val felt her stomach suddenly pang with guilt.

Rona’s frown softened, and then disappeared altogether.

“Bumps and bruises,” she said, reaching up and carefully pulling Val’s hand away. “They’ll heal in a few days. Other people’s injuries won’t. That won’t.” Her eyes flickered down to Val’s side and then back up again, wide with sudden earnest. “Please?”

Fuck, Val thought as she sighed and carefully moved her arm out of the way. She's got me already.

Resignation aside, her aching body welcomed the soft pulse of healing energy as it arched down from Rona’s hands. It rolled over her in a wave, then retracted and pooled at her side with a strange and familiar tugging at the wound that sent a shiver up her spine. She sank back onto her hands, suddenly grateful for the armor still locked around her chest that kept her from seeing anything when she instinctively glanced down; healing magic didn’t quite seem so terribly unnatural when she couldn't actually see it at work.

Eventually the light dimmed, and the numbness faded into a still-deep ache that told Val that Rona had only poured enough energy in to stitch up the worst of the wound. Good, she thought, even when pushing upright made her wince.

Rona looked up, somewhere between satisfied and exasperated. “Feel better?”

“Much,” said Val, and felt mostly like she was telling the truth. “Now, as for you...”

Rona gave her an odd look that slowly became a frown as Val unclipped a little red vial from her hip. She folded her arms over her chest when Val held it out towards her, and shook her head so hard that her curls bounced.

“I’m not taking that.”

Val made a big show of huffing, and propped her elbows against her knees. “So I’m just supposed to ignore all of those bumps and bruises too, huh? Just watch you hobble around after you shamed me into playing patient?”

A smile touched very faintly at the corner of Rona’s mouth. “Yep.”

“Rona.”

“That is expensive!” Rona protested, thrusting her hands forward and wiggling her fingers. “This will work again in a few hours. I’m not going to let you waste a perfectly good potion on me -”

“It’s not a waste,” Val snapped, sharper than she intended. Rona didn’t flinch at the steel in her tone, but her eyes narrowed, and Val felt another run of ice suddenly begin to creep up her spine. She coughed, glancing away like it would help her save what little face she had left.

“For you,” she clarified weakly. “I mean that it’s not a waste if it’s for you, understand? Any good this could do me isn’t worth watching you stagger around the next few hours and pretend you’re okay. Don’t make me beg, Rona. You know I’ll do it, and I’ll make it real embarrassing.”

“I have no doubt,” said Rona, letting her grim look soften back into a faint smile. She tugged her pack forward, and began rummaging around with one hand.

“I can’t let you use that on me,” she began, and held up a hand when Val started to protest, “but I wouldn't mind a little help patching up.”

A roll of bandages and a tub of odd-smelling ointment suddenly appeared from the depths of her pack, and found their way into Val's already waiting hands. She stared down at them for a long moment, then sighed her resignation and gestured for Rona to sit.

“I can't believe you're going to make me sit here and wrap wounds like some field surgeon, when I've got a potion right here...” she muttered, unwinding a fair course of the bandages. Rona rolled back a sleeve and offered one scraped and grime-covered arm with a thin chuckle.

“Surprisingly, most people don't get their medical attention out of a vial.”

“Absolutely ridiculous,” said Val with a dramatic huff. “What kind of moron doesn't spend fifty gold every couple of days just to keep themselves alive?”

This time, Rona's laugh sounded a bit lighter, a touch more genuine, and the soft place nestled against Val’s ribs that only Rona seemed to be able to touch suddenly warmed to life. She settled back into her work, allowing herself the faintest turn of a smile. Familiarity with her nightmares did her little good in reliving them, it was true; but at least she had some say in how they ended.

At least this time, she had bandages.

[ohmytheon]

Karma in Retrograde (19)

title: Karma in Retrograde

summary: When Dabi is hit by a de-aging quirk, he’s turned back to a 16 year-old U.A. Gen Studies student with self-esteem and parent issues, a destructive quirk, and no memory of the last five years. To help the Dabi of the past, present, and future, he is placed with Class 1-A. There, they must all face the question of whether he can change or if his destiny is already set in stone.

– Chapter 19: Dealing with the aftermath of his conversation with Natsuo and Shouto, Ryouta tries to move on with the rest of his day with varying successes.

Lanni notes: And I'm back! It was so weird not to write for this fic. It's been like a month! I was worried that I'd struggle to get back in the mindset of writing for this fic, but the moment I started, it was like I never stopped. Ryouta is just such an easy character to slip into for me and I'm ecstatic people are enjoying him. Another round of applause for Misty taking the reins! After some discussion, we decided to postpone the "Embers to Ashes" prequel one-shot in order to post this chapter because sometimes we like to be nice. The last chapter was heavy and an emotional rollercoaster. While I'm a glutton for angst, we both thought it was a good idea to lighten up in the next two chapters. The idea is that while Ryouta is experiencing one hell of a shock with his family, he's also experiencing a different kind at UA. Honestly, some of my favorite parts to write in this fic aren't the big emotional scenes (although I do love them), but the little moments where Ryouta shows growth and improvement despite his various struggles. It's important to me. My baby's growing up and off, well, doing hero school shit. The song for this chapter is "Shake It Out" by Florence + the Machine.

And I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't So here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my road And I'm ready to suffer and I'm ready to hope It's a shot in the dark and right at my throat

When Ryouta and Shouto reached the common area to wait for Natsuo, they found it empty, much to his relief. Aizawa must have corralled the other students into returning to class. While Natsuo wasn’t embarrassing or anything, he wanted to keep things separate for now. Family issues packed away in one corner and school stuff shoved in the other. He didn’t have it in him to combine them yet.

Saying goodbye was an awkward affair, but it didn’t feel final.

“I’ve got a boatload of work with exams around the corner, but don’t think school is gonna distract me.” Natsuo wasn’t a nervous mess like Fuyumi, who had acted like, the second she walked out of the room, he would disappear on her again . No, he was much more confident that the U.A. staff would keep him in line. “When the year ends, we’re gonna do this again - but we’re gonna do it right. We’ll make up for lost time. And you” - he pointed a finger at Ryouta that, while not exactly accusing, wasn’t forgiving either - “are gonna be honest this time around.”

“I didn’t lie completely before,” Ryouta pointed out, rolling his eyes.

Natsuo harrumphed. “I remember your half-truths very well, so don’t even start.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong. Ryouta had survived off of half-truths and lies. Dabi probably had as well. All he could do in response was hold his hands up in surrender and mumble, “Okay, okay, you got me.”

Honest. He could do that. He was trying to do that. It shouldn’t have been a big deal - it shouldn’t have been too much to expect of him - and yet it was. That was the frustrating part. Why couldn’t he just be open and honest with his family? The Class 1-A kids and U.A. teachers were one thing, but his own siblings? Was he that much of an emotionally constipated ass?

It was probably better not to ask that question.

At first, Ryouta thought that Natsuo was going to go for another hug, but he seemed to realize he had reached his limit. It was both a relief and annoyance when he got a pat on the shoulder, the latter because the action screamed “big brother” so much that he thought Natsuo might’ve done it on purpose. He did hug Shouto, who took it with much more grace than he ever could have, but was still somewhat stiff.

Physical affection and comfort was a language that took time to learn. They couldn’t expect him to learn it right away. It had been easier to figure out with Fuyumi back when they had both been younger, but now he had to do it for the third time. It was tiresome. He’d never been like that with Natsuo, although he had sometimes forced himself with Shouto to comfort him when training got too intense. It appeared as if Shouto was doing the same thing he had, but with more practice. Ryouta had a feeling his classmates had a hand in it. They were so damn friendly.

After making the promise to call soon to set up another time to hang out (one that wouldn’t involve attempts to run away or sneak attacks through the window), Natsuo left, more self-assured than Ryouta would’ve expected of him. Then again, Natsuo had always been the most boisterous and confident of the bunch, the quickest of them to bounce back whenever something happened. Likely, as hurt as he was over this whole situation, the fact that his brother was alive was enough to allow him to maintain an upbeat mood. It was an overwhelming relief, a weight off their shoulders that he hadn’t even known they’d been carrying.

Shouto glanced at the clock. “We’re late for Present Mic’s class.”

Having to go back to class after that emotional downpour was one of the last things Ryouta wanted to do, but there was still lunch and then the hero course in the afternoon. He couldn’t slack off simply because he’d had an emotionally exhausting reunion where he found out that his family had thought he’d killed himself. Well, he probably could if he asked, but there was that old need to prove that he could take it creeping up on him. Even though he knew that Shouto and the others wouldn’t think any less of him for needing some time to process, he didn’t want that time. If he thought about it too hard, he would think about other things as well.

How bad had things gotten between the time he remembered and when he’d dropped out of school? How far had he fallen before he finally disappeared from their lives? He supposed, if he followed the progression of what he’d been doing, he would’ve continued to injure himself at more frequent and dangerous rates. He’d never moved to the hero course, so he must have been very frustrated and angry, which would have only made things worse. He knew how he was when he got like that: he was a volatile mess.

If he hadn’t dropped out, there was a chance that he would’ve been kicked out.

Ryouta didn’t want to think about that though, so going to class was a welcome distraction. “Let’s get to it then.”

“Are you sure?” Shouto asked warily.

“Iida is making me re-do some of my English homework,” Ryouta grumbled. “Apparently my grades in his class could’ve been better.”

Shouto tilted his head as they both started for the door. “I thought you liked reading.”

“I like reading fine,” Ryouta corrected. He must have remembered him and Fuyumi reading him bedtime stories. In his childhood, it was one of the few ways he could escape his home life. He could be somewhere else - someone else - and all would be well for an hour or two. “I don’t like English that much. It’s more of a mess than I am.”

“Admitting your shortcomings?” Shouto’s lips almost twitched into a smile, but not quite. It was like the ghost of one was on his face, the confrontation with Natsuo having sucked the energy to create a living one out of him out of him.

It was enough to make Ryouta narrow his eyes, jumping to meet Shouto halfway to a lighter mood. “I never acted like I was the perfect student. That was Fuyumi. She used to write lesson plans for fun and make Natsuo and I sit down while she played teacher.”

“It’s nice that she was able to follow her dream,” Shouto said thoughtfully.

Ryouta thought back to his twin. She’d wanted to be a teacher for as long as he could remember. It had irritated him sometimes, if only because he didn’t want to sit down and do additional homework, but he always went along with it in the end. It made her happy. She got really into it, trying to emulate their mother, who had taught them all how to read, write, and do math. It was thanks to her that he enjoyed reading so much. In the beginning, after a particularly rough training session, she’d let them crawl into bed with her and read them stories until they fell asleep.

That felt like a dream to him now.

Present Mic’s English class turned out to be an excellent distraction as he was forced to pay attention. Iida wasn’t about to let him drift off in there, even if he did look concerned upon Ryouta and Shouto’s arrival. After a brief silent exchange in which he assumed Iida was asking him if he was alright to continue for the day and he nodded in return, class resumed as if nothing peculiar had happened. He had no doubts that the few classmates who had witnessed a civilian climbing through one of their dorm windows had a lot of questions, but hopefully, they would either keep them to themselves or direct them at Shouto. Honestly, he didn’t know if he had the energy to be polite right now.

Once that was over, the class shuffled off to the Grand Mess Hall as a group. Ryouta let himself get herded along with Shouto’s friends, although he caught pointed looks from both Mina and Kaminari. They’d both seen Natsuo, after all, and he had even introduced himself to Mina. He tried to ignore it and avoided them in the process. They’d either understand or they wouldn’t. As callous as it sounded, he didn’t feel like considering their feelings at the moment.

While waiting in line to grab something to eat, someone bumped into him. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in the Mess Hall since it was so packed, but it still jerked Ryouta out of his ponderings over how much money was left in his school account. When he turned around, instead of the other student apologizing for bumping into him or outright ignoring that they had, he found a blonde-haired boy looking directly at him with intelligent, light blue eyes, catching him off guard.

At first, he didn’t recognize him, but it clicked when the boy smiled. It was the kid who had bumped into him in the hallway on the first day. What had Uraraka said his name was? Mono? Momo? No, that was Yaoyorozu’s given name. Now was not the time for him to be bad with names. He’d never cared enough to remember people’s names before. He hadn’t even bothered to remember more than the quirks of his own classmates. The boy was from Class 1-B. He knew that much.

“You’re new,” the boy said. “Are you an exchange student too?”

Ryouta wasn’t sure what the protocol for a conversation like this was. The principal had gone over a few things with him in case people outside of the hero course or UA questioned him, but it hadn’t been a much. Did Class B not know the truth about him? Hadn’t he heard that they had been on the same Camping Trip that Dabi had attacked with the League? Was Class A really the only ones in on UA’s little experiment with a de-aged villain?

“I’m a transfer student,” Ryouta found himself saying. It was a decent cover and one that could explain why he had suddenly appeared. An exchange would imply that he’d replaced someone in Class 1-A, but that clearly wasn’t the case. A few happened here and there, mostly from foreign countries in order to build relations and ties, but he was at something of a loss on what school he would say if pressed for more details. Besides maybe Shiketsu, UA had been the only high school he’d concerned himself with.

“Well that’s interesting,” the boy replied. He didn’t sound like he believed it.

A frown made its way onto Ryouta’s face. C’mon, you’re a better liar than that.

“I couldn’t help but notice how much you favor Todoroki,” the boy continued, his tone casual but his eyes sharp despite his heavy-lidded gaze. “Are you two related?”

Ryouta turned his head and caught eyes with Shouto, who seemed like he had only just realized what was going on. He could say that he was Shouto’s brother and it wouldn’t be a lie, but it would beg the question of why he had transferred to U.A. instead of going there in the first place. No one had told him what to do if someone pieced together the fact that he and Shouto were related even though the risk should’ve been obvious. They looked too much alike even before Ryouta showed off his fire quirk. Sure, fire quirks appeared fairly frequently, but the coincidences were too much. What would sound plausible?

At the last second, Ryouta decisively settled on, “I’m his cousin on his dad’s side.” Shouto gave him a weird look, but there wasn’t any room for him to shrug when they were currently being stared at. It was the only explanation he could think of. He could deny being related to Shouto, but in all honesty, it would probably just make people more suspicious. “My parents moved back to Japan. I took a test and was accepted into U.A. as a transfer.”

The boy’s lips twitched into what looked like a half grin/half grimace. “Another Todoroki then. Sure you didn’t just get in because of your name?”

Ryouta stiffened at the implication. The idea that he would use the Todoroki name to do anything or get ahead anywhere… It was more insulting than he realized. He had originally applied to U.A. under his mother’s maiden name not only because it had been one of his father’s requirements, but also because it had been his way of getting out from under his old man’s thumb. Ryouta didn’t want to be shackled by the Todoroki name, as Shouto surely didn’t, although he went by it at school. Or maybe it was the idea of being tied to Endeavor. Shouto wanted to be his own hero and Ryouta had…

Well, he’d wanted to be something once upon a time, hadn’t he? That dream had died, but here he was, trying it all over again. He wouldn’t use his father’s name. He didn’t then and he wouldn’t now.

Under any other circumstance, Ryouta would’ve let the conversation die, but the wrong buttons had been pushed and he felt himself stepping forward. Although spotted the realization on Shouto’s face and concern on Midoriya’s, both were ignored. Pranking Bakugou had taught him something: he couldn’t always let other people defend him. He hadn’t always in the past, but had taken a backseat throughout this whole mess. He had thought being passive was the safest route. He’d chosen something similar the first time around when he was in GE. Maybe it wasn’t though. None of the kids in the hero course were passive. They couldn’t be if they were going to be heroes.

If he was going to start changing for the better, then he had to switch tactics. Clearly being passive wasn’t working out for him. Time to try a different approach.

Also, this kid had a face that screamed for him to punch it and although Ryouta couldn’t do that, he couldn’t ignore it completely. He had picked the wrong time to mess with him. Having been through an emotional ringer, he was tired and grouchy and ready to take it out on someone.

“You’re in Class 1-B, aren’t you?” Ryouta asked in an equally casual tone.

The boy narrowed his eyes. “Yes.”

“What’s your name again? Uraraka told me.” Ryouta tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I can’t remember.”

He gave a smile that would’ve been considered polite if not for how tense it was. “Monoma Neito.”

“Oh, yeah, that was it.” Ryouta returned his smile, pleasant if not a bit vague, which only made Monoma simmer even more. Beside him, Shouto sighed in defeat while Midoriya cringed awkwardly. In his defense, making friends with Class A was about as much as he could take. He wasn’t the super friendly type like Mina or Uraraka or the kind of person that people gravitated toward like Midoriya or even an inspiring person like Shouto or, hell, Bakugou. No, he was too prickly for that.

If there was one thing that he excelled at, it was annoying people. No, it was more than that. He could find a person’s weakest point and would pick at it until they were pissed off. It was probably why he and Bakugou kept butting heads. It was why he kept looking at everyone in Class A like they might turn into a threat. He knew how to pick until a person exploded. No wonder his father had hated him. There was very little worse than having a bratty teenager point out all your flaws.

“Well, the hero courses pair up every once in a while for lessons here, don’t they?” Ryouta continued. He knew that they did. His father had talked about it and he had overheard hero course students talking about it. Teachers didn’t want students to get used to fighting against their classmates or they wouldn’t be able to improve. “You can find out then if I got in on my name or not. It’ll be fun.”

Ryouta could practically hear Shouto groaning internally, but both of them kept straight faces. Monoma didn’t look nearly as entertained, eyeing him with a shrewd expression. In the past, he might’ve faltered under that, but he’d learned his lesson well: he couldn’t back down. He didn’t know who this kid was or his history with Class 1-A, but it didn’t matter. He had his own life to live, didn’t he?

“Fun, right,” Monoma replied carefully. “We take things seriously at U.A., of course.” At his left, Midoriya coughed into his hand as if to contradict him. He got a disgruntled look from Monoma, but no fighting words. “So what do you go by then? Should I call you Todoroki? Maybe Todoroki Two?” He waved a hand in Shouto’s direction. “There’s one of you already.”

It was a shit move, but Ryouta was in a shit mood, so he held out his hand and said, “Ryouta will work just fine. Using given names isn’t that big of a deal where I grew up.”

Monoma glanced down at his hand before taking and shaking it as he said, “That’s odd, considering your accent.”

Ryouta’s grip tightened just a fraction before he let go and pocketed his hands. “I moved around a lot when I was younger. You learn to adapt pretty quickly so you don’t stand out.”

“I’d change that,” Monoma quipped. “You don’t make it big here unless you do stand out. Isn’t that right, Midoriya? Still stuck in Todoroki’s and Bakugou’s shadows with that faulty quirk of yours?”

Despite being called out, Midoriya didn’t seem any less pleasant. “We’re all working toward the same goals. Things will be different later on when we’re pros.” Honestly, Ryouta didn’t know how he could manage to be friendly and not sound fake. Maybe he’d get some of the tension he must be feeling out when the classes fought each other. “Besides, you won’t be saying that the next time our classes square up.”

Monoma considered Midoriya for a moment before turning back to Ryouta, who could only add a smirk to Midoriya’s comment. “I can tell you’ll fit in with Class A nicely. All they have going for them are their egos and some bad luck.” Monoma stopped when someone calling his name made him look back. A girl with a red-haired ponytail was heading their way, a disapproving frown on her face. He turned back around to give them a mocking salute goodbye and a huge grin. “See you around, Todoroki!”

Ryouta was well-practiced in not exploding on the spot, but it had been a while since someone had called him that. Mina had asked beforehand and everyone else had called him by his given name like Aizawa had told them to when he had first stepped into Class 1-A. Even when he’d been in GE, his classmates and teachers had referred to him by his given name. His mom’s surname wasn’t really his. He hadn’t felt attached to it enough to go by it and didn’t have any strong feelings about his given name either.

Being called Todoroki though… That stung bitterly. He clenched his hands into fists at his side, willing his quirk to die down. A hint of smoke trickled out from between his fingers as his palms heated up, but then he let out a sigh and relaxed. His quirk went dormant. Crisis averted.

“He’s kind of an ass, isn’t he?” Ryouta prompted, turning to face his brother and Midoriya.

“A fairly harmless one,” Shouto replied, although his eyes followed Monoma as he greeted the red-haired girl with a loud laugh. She looked one second away from smacking him upside the head, but instead glanced at them curiously and caught eyes with Ryouta. A moment later, they were both walking away.

“You handled him well though,” Midoriya offered as they got back in line. “You were more confident.”

Ryouta snorted. He didn’t feel like it. His whole body and mind were still exhausted from having such an honest conversation with Natsuo. If the lesson for the hero class today was a practical one, he was going to get his ass handed to him. He knew that whoever was teaching it would let him sit out if he asked, but he couldn’t afford to fall any further behind than he already was. These kids had nearly a full year of experience over him. His father’s harsh training was the only reason he was capable of competing.

Oh, look, it finally came in handy. His dad would be so pleased.

It made Ryouta feel sour. This was just one more thing Endeavor was right about. Still, circumstances aside, he was in the class now. That meant he also had the chance to prove him wrong about something. He would be good. He could do great things. He’d prove everyone wrong, including himself.

After lunch, the rest of the day went surprisingly well. Maybe the universe had finally decided that he’d had enough. Despite the rocky start, the remainder of the lunch period itself was uneventful. The others were content to let him sit quietly and drift off. The group chatted excitedly about exams and how they planned to spend their break in between school years, two topics that he could gracefully bow out of without losing face.

He was anxious about the hero class, but it wasn’t as bad as he’d feared. Instead of a harsh lesson in heroics, they focused on quirkless hand-to-hand combat again. With two extra lessons from Uraraka (the first one with Mina and the second with Midoriya) under his belt, Ryouta could honestly say that he’d improved. It probably also didn’t hurt that he was paired up with Kaminari, who clearly had not taken the time to work on his combat skills outside of school.

“Jeez, Ryouta,” Kaminari whined while he rubbed his nose. “Where did you learn that move from? I thought you said you couldn’t fight.”

“You can thank Uraraka,” Ryouta replied with a laugh. He was still tired and distracted, which was how Kaminari had actually landed a punch to his gut, but it felt good to one-up someone. Even if Kaminari wasn’t much of a fighter, he had still been in the hero course for a full year. He hadn’t learned to take as many punches to the gut and face as Ryouta though, which meant that he couldn’t bounce back as quickly.

Kaminari pointed at Uraraka. “Traitor!”

“You could’ve come to the lessons too,” Uraraka sweetly shot back as she wiped the sweat off her brow.

“I did invite you,” Mina added a second before she snatched Sero by the arm and threw him over her shoulder. The poor boy yelped in surprise right before the wind was knocked out of him when he hit the ground. Ryouta hadn’t realized how much everyone relied on their quirks in the hero course until they couldn’t use them. He’d struggled with fighting, but he knew how to evade and get out of grips without using his quirk better than half the class.

Judging by the way he was able to hold his own against Shoji, Bakugou certainly didn’t have a problem fighting without his quirk, but Ryouta thought it was obvious that he would’ve preferred to use it. He knew the signs of someone struggling to hold back a quirk when he saw them. The frustration was evident in the way Bakugou grit his teeth and repeatedly flexed his fingers. It was difficult not to explode when that was all you did.

Ryouta wasn’t sure how much gas he had left in the tank, but being a hero meant pushing yourself past that limit. It meant going beyond. If he used this class as a distraction, he could keep going. He had to focus on what he was doing, focus on the techniques that he’d practiced repeatedly, which meant that he couldn’t think about what had happened. He didn’t have time to think about the fact that his family had thought he’d killed himself or his father had tried to erase him from their lives afterward. He hadn’t even let them mourn him for long.

Had he even been bothered? Had it upset him in the slightest? Had he felt any shame or guilt over what he’d done, or had he just written it off as a sign of Ryouta’s weakness?

His distraction earned him another blow to the side, which made him grunt and grit his teeth. Kaminari cheered at getting another hit in, only to yelp when Ryouta lunged to make a counterattack. It was a sloppy move, one that Uraraka would’ve been able to turn against him easily, but Kaminari was caught off guard and ended up tripping over his own foot and falling on his ass.

Kirishima paused in his fight with Deku to put his hands on his hips and shake his head. “Dude, you’ve seriously got to get better at fighting if you’re gonna be a hero.”

“Not everyone is like you or Bakugou!” Kaminari exclaimed. “Just look at me: I’m not a fighter. I wasn’t built for a back alley brawl.”

Ryouta snorted and waved a hand at himself. “And you think I am?”

Deku shook his head. “I wasn’t a fighter either for the longest time, but I had to learn.”

It was true that, at a glance, Midoriya didn’t look like he was into hand-to-hand combat, but Ryouta had learned the hard way that that wasn’t the case. Under his school uniform and short ass tie, Deku might not have been as defined as Bakugou, but he packed a powerful punch and even stronger kick. Being on the receiving end of that had not been fun. He’d thought he might have to go see Recovery Girl, but the idea of facing her wrath again was too much of a deterrent. He was fine.

Holding out his hand, Ryouta added, “If you can’t fight, you should at least learn to dodge better.” When Kaminari accepted his hand, he pulled him back up to his feet. “Trust me. You get your ass kicked enough, you figure out how to dodge, duck, and roll.”

While Kaminari eyed him oddly, Bakugou snorted and called out, “Sounds like running away to me.”

Ryouta shot him an unimpressed look. “You can’t expect to win every fight. Sometimes not fighting is the best option out of a bunch of shitty ones. You might not like it, but if it’s a fight to the death or not fight and live another day, I’ll take the latter.”

Bakugou sneered at him. “That’s a coward’s move.”

“It’s the smart one,” Ryouta insisted.

For a moment, Bakugou didn’t respond. He and Shoji had paused their fight while the former examined Ryouta closely. It was the calmest he had ever seen Bakugou when facing him, although he was breathing heavily from the sparring. Even without multiplying his arms with his quirk, Shoji had the upper hand. That didn’t seem to bother Bakugou right now. He looked like he thinking hard on something.

“A hero can’t afford to give up,” Bakugou finally said. “We have to fight and keep on fighting even after there’s nothing left. Because if we stop even for a second, the villains can win.” Ryouta clenched his jaw but didn’t argue this time. Like it or not, Bakugou had a point. Every time he’d run away from his dad, hadn’t his old man won? “Maybe it is a smart move sometimes, but only villains run away from a fight they can’t win.”

“Yeah, but then the villain is alive to fight again while the hero is just dead,” Ryouta said unthinkingly. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Uraraka and a few others wince while Midoriya frowned. Shouto wasn’t looking at him and Iida looked rather troubled. Oh, that was the wrong thing to say. He cringed. He hadn’t meant for it to sound like he was identifying with villainous actions, but, well…

Ryouta had been forced to learn to avoid fighting in order to survive and make things more tolerable. He hadn’t always listened to his own lessons. Sometimes he fought back - a few times he even won on some level - but the times that he lost had been excruciating lessons in themselves. Black eyes took longer to heal than most people realized and burns were even worse.

In an attempt to make things lesson awkward, Kaminari cleared his throat and pointed out, “I don’t have to worry about fighting or not fighting though. I wouldn’t have to fight when I can just stun them with my quirk.” He let out a little jolt of electricity around his fingertips. “I can shock anyone the second they touch me.”

Aizawa glared at him from across the gym. “There is a chance you will be placed in situations where you either can’t use your quirk or it’s unavailable to you. What will you do then?” He didn’t need to activate his quirk for everyone to feel as if they were at an even greater disadvantage. He had an aura about him that vaguely reminded Ryouta of his father: how he could just stare you down and you’d feel like you had done something wrong or he was stronger than you. For some reason, it didn’t feel nearly as threatening when coming from him. Maybe that was the wrong word. Frightening?

Not that Ryouta was afraid of his father anymore. He was too old for that, too tired and done.

After looking at the clock, Aizawa folded his arms across his chest and sighed in what might’ve been relief. He looked ready to curl up for an afternoon nap. “That’s enough for today. Class dismissed.”

Any tension created by the prior disagreement bled out as everyone left the gym and headed back to the dorms, although Ryouta couldn’t shake the feeling that some of it lingered. He’d hit a sore subject without meaning to, letting his mouth get the better of him. He should have kept it shut, but thanks to distracted and exhausted he was from all that had happened today, he hadn’t been thinking straight. Hell, he hadn’t been thinking at all. He had just said whatever came to mind. Sometimes he really wished that he had a better filter. Most days he was good about watching what he said, but there were moments when he blurted out things that he knew would get him in trouble.

The problem was that Ryouta didn’t know what he could say to fix things or even if there was anything to fix. He glanced at Kaminari, who shrugged his shoulders before then jogging over to speak with Mineta. It made Ryouta feel oddly rejected, which immediately irritated him. These kids weren’t his friends. They weren’t obligated to be nice to him or to reassure him whenever his insecurities started to creep up on him.

No, they were going to be heroes and sooner or later, once this quirk wore off, he’d be back to being a villain.

Iida clearing his throat snagged his attention. “Ryouta, are you alright? You look…”

“I’m fine,” Ryouta flatly interrupted before Iida could decide exactly what he looked like. It wasn’t likely to be good. He shoved any anger he felt into a box and kicked it aside. He didn’t even know what he was angry about or who he was angry with. Himself? For being a complete idiot? For destroying his relationship with his siblings and making them mourn a piece a shit? For coming back and still failing to understand simple concepts? He’d felt like he was bouncing back from this morning, then he had to go and say something stupid and make things awkward.

Iida’s frown said that his two-word answer was not satisfactory. “Are you sure? You don’t look fine, if I’m being honest. If there’s something you need to talk about-”

“I don’t need to talk about anything,” Ryouta interrupted, his tone much more heated than he’d planned and his quirk rising to match it. He smashed it back down. The last thing he needed was for his quirk to flare up. It might be taken as a threat. “I said I’m fine, so I’m fucking fine.” He rubbed his face and let out a breath. What he needed to do was calm the fuck down. “It’s just been a long day. After talking with Natsuo... I’m tired.”

“You should’ve taken the rest of the day off after that,” Iida told him, seemingly nonplussed by Ryouta’s outburst. “It’s equally important to take care of your mental health as it is to focus on school.”

Ryouta began to laugh, only to stop himself midway to huff out a breath that, somehow, managed to sound sarcastic. Where would he be if someone had gone out of their way to make sure he did that the first time around? He had been too busy pushing himself - going plus ultra - to focus on anything else, certainly not his mental health. It wasn’t like he’d ever been taught that during his training with his father. It had never been an important factor in his life. Go figure.

You push until you break. You burn until there was nothing but ash left. You pull yourself back together. You do it all over again. Like some messed up phoenix.

“I’m already ridiculously behind when it comes to the hero course,” Ryouta said, going for a different approach. He was frustrated for a lot of reasons. This one he could be honest about without feeling like he was revealing too much of himself. “I don’t want to go into the second year feeling like I’m dead weight - if they keep me around for the second year at any rate.”

“They will,” Iida reassured him. As if it were easy to believe. Being optimistic either came naturally to him or he wrangled it through sheer will alone. It seemed impossible to Ryouta. “In the time you’ve been with us, you have shown every effort at improving yourself.”

Was it enough though? Only time would tell. The weeks between the school years would be long ones.

That was, of course, assuming that the de-aging quirk didn’t wear off.

When they rounded the corner and Height Alliance came into view, Iida gamely offered, “If you want, we can go over some of the heroics coursework before dinner.”

Ryouta looked over to Shouto, who was talking with Midoriya about something just out of earshot. His brother wore his usual impassive expression, but there was something distant about his gaze that made him frown. He was thinking about something else. A lot had been dropped on them today. Ryouta had to remind himself that he wasn’t the only one getting his world rocked by this whole mess. With him in his class now, Shouto’s life outside of school was getting dragged into it. Both of them were extremely private people. It was an uncomfortable situation for both of them.

“Honestly, I think I’m gonna take a nap,” Ryouta finally responded. “I don’t think I have anything left in me today.”

“It’s good to be able to recognize when you’re at your limit and know when to take a break,” Iida told him, nodding his head in understanding. “Just don’t sleep through dinner!”

“Don’t worry.” Ryouta pat his stomach. “As nauseous as I might be, I’ll wake up to eat.”

Despite the fact that he hadn’t fully used his quirk today, it still seemed to burn right through him. No matter how much he ate as a kid, he was never capable of putting on weight. He would eat twice as many vegetables as Natsuo and finish off the milk every time in an attempt to grow taller, but nothing ever seemed to work. Even though he’d managed to build up somewhat over the past few years, it still left him thin. It had been frustrating. It probably didn’t help that he got sick a lot on top of eating a bunch. His body was so damn counterintuitive.

Before they could follow Midoriya and Shouto inside, Iida paused, which made Ryouta stop as well. After a brief moment of deliberation, Iida put a hand on his shoulder, stilling him completely. “Remember: it’s okay to stop to take care of yourself. No one will judge you for that. I know you feel like you have to prove something, but that doesn’t mean you have to push yourself past your limit every day.”

“Isn’t that what you all strive to do in the hero course though?” Ryouta asked.

Iida hesitated and then said, “Yes, but we haven’t gone through what you have.” It was a touch more personal than Ryouta had been expecting, hitting him like a soft blow and taking away any urge to argue. Whereas he was used to Shouto being able to read him and Midoriya seemed to be more perceptive than most kids his age, he was caught off guard by Iida picking up that something was wrong. Maybe he shouldn’t have been. Iida was intelligent and had clearly been paying attention. “Besides, we all take time to ourselves to recover as well. It’s an important step in becoming a hero.”

Ryouta rolled his eyes. “Yeah, okay.”

Looking somewhat affronted, Iida pulled his hand away. “I’m serious-”

“I know you are. It’s just…” Ryouta gave him a weak smile. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re super intense?”

It was strange to see Iida come close to blushing. He wore a strange look on his face as he furrowed his brow and rubbed the back of his neck. “A time or two, yes. Uraraka thinks it’s funny.”

“It kinda is,” Ryouta admitted. “I appreciate the pep talk though. Thanks.” He opened the door and stepped into the building. “Wake me up if I’m not down for dinner?”

“Of course.”

When Ryouta walked into the common area, he finally managed to connect eyes with Shouto. It was only for a second, but he smoothed out his face and gave a short nod. Despite the fact that his brother’s expression barely changed, he could somehow read his relief in the way he stopped holding his impassiveness together as tightly.

With that done, Ryouta headed for the elevator so he could go to his dorm. Just as he’d told Iida, he planned on taking a nap. Even with his mind running a hundred miles per hour, he knew that he’d pass out within seconds of collapsing on his bed. A dreamless sleep would be nice, but he had a sinking suspicion that he wouldn’t get that lucky. He’d put on the quirk inhibitor braces just to be safe. Sometimes it wasn’t possible to fight your demons; sometimes you had to work around them instead. It was a lesson these hero kids would have to learn one day, as everyone did. He learned it out years ago.

@mistystarshine notes: So I don't really have much in the way of notes this time. This chapter was actually supposed to be the beginning of next chapter, as in the first part of multiple, but then the madness took hold of Lanni. It's my own fault for hogging Ryouta for so long. And I'm about to do so again. But I'm back to writing non-chronologically (despite it being for the same chapter) so she won't need to wait for me to finish to write. Besides... I have a feeling you guys won't protest new content. Also, as of chapter 202, we are one step closer to needing to come through this bitch to change his name to Touya. Yay because canon Tododabi, but also W O E, editing.

[outhereperusing]

LIMA TAKE A SELFIE: WE ARE YOUNG

Let me just start off by saying that Lima is a real city. What I mean by this is that Lima is always awake and people are constantly on the move. My two weeks in Lima were full of bus rides, beaches, museums, good food, and nightlife. It was nice being in a big city and feeling like my California self before returning back to Cusco and Andahuaylillas. The quick flight from Cusco to Lima brought me closer to the Pacific coast and feeling at home. I remember being in the taxi from the Lima airport to the Colegio de la Inmaculada, which is the Jesuit high school we were staying at, and freaking out because I could see the ocean. In addition to the seeing the oceanview, we drove through Miraflores and Barranco, two districts known for their nightlife, shopping, restaurants, and beaches. Driving through the different districts reminded me of San Francisco and the variety of districts a city could have. Being back in a city for two weeks excited me for the possibility of trying new things and feeling a sense of normalcy.

Lima take a selfie

Tonight

We are young

So let's set the world on fire

We can burn brighter

Than the sun

(Fun.)

After picking up our keys at the Inmaculada one of the first things we did was check out their zoo. The second year volunteers had told us about the zoo, but I was not expecting the diversity of animals on this high school campus. The first animal I saw when walking on their campus were deer, and I mean a whole herd of deer. The deer were so friendly that they would come up to the fence, sniff us, and let us pet them before moving onto something else. When it felt like the deer had enough of my excitement we settled into our rooms and refueled with some aji de atun, which is a Peruvian dish made from an aji pepper cream sauce with tuna and served over rice, before checking out the rest of the zoo. The high school’s zoo has chickens, goats, an emu, macaws, parrots that talk, a llama, bears, jaguars, panthers, a monkey, and capybaras.

All the animals

In addition to the zoo, the high school had orchards of pecans, avocados, chirimoya, and oranges. Driving through the orchards was one of my favorite things because it led to a panoramic view of Lima. At the top of the orchard, I saw the juxtaposition of desert, ocean, and mountains. I also saw how socioeconomic status’ differ between the Inmaculada and the communities surrounding it. The Inmaculada is a upper-middle class Jesuit high school surrounded by a gate and has security around the clock, while the community behind it is on the come up. Seeing this difference in status in the community I was staying at was just the beginning of noticing socioeconomic status and privilege in Lima.

Views of Lima

Our main purpose of going to Lima was to begin the process of changing our visa status. On New Year’s Eve, my fellow first year volunteer and I went to Interpol to ask what we would need to start the process. Finding out that we would need some paperwork from two different banks, we walked from Interpol to the banks and back. When we returned to Interpol, we got in line, but when we said that we were Americans they took us out of the line and brought us to a room to fill out paperwork, get fingerprinted, and receive a dental exam. We were at Interpol for a total of two hours, when it seemed that other people were going to be there all day. Our American citizenship bumped us up to the top of Interpol’s priority. While this is something that I enjoyed because Interpol reminded me a lot of the DMV and airport security screenings, I did not appreciate the looks other people were giving us when we were pulled to the front. After we finished our paperwork we were given an envelope to be mailed back to the US for a FBI background search and allowed to leave. Finishing the morning at Interpol, we made the walk home with pit stops at starbucks for some wifi, the US Embassy, and a mall. With our work at Interpol done in one day, we had the rest of our two weeks to have fun and explore Lima. I knew I wanted to go to as many beaches as possible and check out the club scene in Lima. When planning the rest of our two weeks we prioritized one activity per day to cross off things on both of our bucket lists. After consulting travel books about Peru, our second year JV’s, the Jesuits, and people we knew who have visited Peru we had a jam-packed schedule of things we wanted to see and do.

Tonight

We are young

So let's set the world on fire

We can burn brighter

Than the sun

(Fun.)

The following day we went into Miraflores to start crossing things off our bucket lists. We walked through Kennedy Park, which has cats roaming freely. I was living my dream in this park because of how many cats there were! These cats were the most photogenic cats I have seen in Peru, and because they are so accustomed to people, they did not mind me getting close to them to get the perfect picture. This park quickly became one of my favorite places and was an easy landmark to orient ourselves in Lima. Cats quickly became a highlight of my trip in Lima. Everytime I would see one I would be instantly happy because they reminded me of my cats at home. One cat in particular takes the honor of being Peruvian Harry. Harry is my Brother’s fluffy one year old black and white cat that I love so much. In college, I would FaceTime my Brother so my roomates and I could see Harry as a kitten. Now in Peru, I Snap-Video-Chat Harry and get pictures of him from my Mom. When we went to the Museo Larco, which is Peru’s premier museum for Andean art, I saw Peruvian Harry and I was in love! We went to this museum for the art, but after seeing Peruvian Harry I only wanted to be there for the cat. This cat looked exactly like Harry except for his nose, American Harry has a pink nose, while Peruvian Harry has a black nose. Seeing a cat that looks so similar to Harry makes my Peru experience easier. It reminds me that there are things here that remind me of home.

Peruvian Harry

One of the things that really made me feel at home was the nightlife. During college I would go out with my friends on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights just to dance around, sing, and overall have a good time. The clubs were places that I felt most like myself and totally free. In Lima I automatically felt like myself because I was back in a city, but I wanted that extra feeling of over-the-top freedom. We went to the club on our second Friday night in Lima, and bounced from two different clubs before finding the best one. What made our final club the best was that it was a smaller venue, had a centralized dance floor, played really good music, had a ton of young people, and there was no cover charge. That night I danced like nobody was watching and sang to all of the songs! That’s how I knew that this club was the best–every song was a sing-a-long. Going to the clubs felt like all of the times I went out with my friends. It felt like they could have been there even though they are a continent away. Feeling like my friends, family, and home are close to me is all that I want while in Peru.

Pre-clubbing photoshoot

Another home that I got to visit was the beach. I was lucky enough to go to the beach a bunch of times while in Lima! I remember walking through Miraflores to get to the beach and feeling a sense of bliss because it was something familiar. The mix of the salty air with the sound of the waves brought me back to San Francisco and being home. I was content to sit and watch the waves roll by, surfers do their thing, and the paragliders soar for hours. When sitting on the sand and getting into the ocean all I could think was that these are the same waters that I have back home. Being on the Pacific Ocean made me feel close to everyone in the states. Because of this, I started to collect sand from the beaches I have been to in Peru. In my room in Anda, I have three different jars of sand and a pile of rocks from Peruvian beaches to remind me that home is not as far away as I think it is. Looking at them on my windowsill reminds me that I am slowly creating a new home here in Peru, while my home a half a world away is still within reach. My heart may be in the United States, but with my feet in Peru I am establishing a new normal that is both exciting and challenging. I can only imagine what I will be feeling about my new home in the many months that are to come.

Home

[kiruuuuu]

Don’t worry, generic or not, I appreciate every compliment, @tubby-custard68! Thank you ❤ And this prompt is fantastic: I love Bandit/Jäger, I can feed @magehir‘s obsession with Blitz/Rook and I seem to enjoy writing about drunk people for some reason. I hope you like it! (Rating T, fluff/humour, ~1.5k words)

.

“Look, is it normal for Germans to be absolute snobs about beer?”

Bandit side-eyes the young Frenchman next to him curiously while he pays for his smokes. He distinctly remembers Jäger telling him to be nicer to Rook despite the fact they’re all at least ten years older than him and the only one who really cares about him is Blitz. Even so, he insists on dragging his boytoy wherever they go which is fair enough, Bandit supposes, he does the same with Jäger as well when the SAS operators go out for drinks, only Jäger isn’t as timid and young and desperate to fill silences as Rook. “Yeah”, he replies in an effort to humour him, “we invented and perfected beer, I’ve not found a single foreign brand that I like.”

“Oh! They have ice cream!” Excitedly, Rook bounces over to the small freezer and peers inside, making Bandit sigh inwardly.

“Make it quick. And are you sure you want to spend all the money you just withdrew on -” He trails off as he turns around, finding the Frenchman with an armful of various popsicles and even a few tubs of Ben and Jerry’s as well as a comically guilty expression. “Jesus Christ, when people ask you to buy a round, they don’t mean fucking ice cream, you moron, put it back. My God, just being in the same room with you must be like herding kittens.”

“Elias doesn’t complain”, Rook chirps, pouting slightly but at least sorting the ice cream and returning it to the freezer, leaving only an almond Magnum that admittedly looks very tempting right now. Rook pauses momentarily before reaching into the cold box once again, fishing out a second one and approaching the till to pay.

“He’d never complain. You could probably piss in his mouth and receive heartfelt thanks for it.” The cashier is now looking at him weirdly so he leaves the store they spotted on their way back to the pub and shakes one of the cigarettes out of the pack, places it between his lips. It’s not that he dislikes Rook, it’s more that he prefers the Frenchman to not be anywhere in his vicinity. Before he can light it, however, there’s a popsicle shoved under his nose. He blinks once, twice, unsure what to do because he does like Magnums. “I hate almonds”, he says and Rook rolls his eyes.

“Don’t be a bitch”, he says which, okay, he deserves that one, so Bandit puts away the cigarette and instead rips open the wrapping. “And don’t pretend your boyfriend is much better. We’re all wearing rose-coloured glasses here and it’s not going to kill you to admit it.”

“Tell yourself that, I’m not the one completely dick whipped here.” The chocolate breaks between his teeth with a satisfying crunch and distracts him from the fact that Rook isn’t walking next to him anymore but rather has stopped, staring after him with an entirely unamused expression. “What?”

“Remember when his car broke and you were unfailingly on time for a week because you offered to give him a lift and didn’t want him to feel bad about being late? Because I do. And you weren’t even together then, that’s how desperate you were.” Bandit scowls at him and earns a chuckle in return. “How do I know about this? You whined to Elias. Endlessly.”

“Now’s the perfect time to shut up, baguette du fromage, it’s not like you’re any better. You hover around him like a mother hen – I get second hand embarrassment just from the way you coo over the idiot.”

“But that’s my point. We’re in the same boat, we both are stupidly in love with a German dork.”

“Speak for yourself”, Bandit grumbles and turns away to keep walking. He’s getting oversaturated with young operators who think they know better than him despite the fact he could theoretically be their dad. A horrifying thought. “I got the better deal, in any case. My dork knows how to suck dick at least.”

“Yeah? You really want to go there?”, Rook asks and tries to sound challenging which gets undermined by his face flushing a cute shade of red. “Why does everything have to be a competition with you?”

“Oh, we can make it a competition. About which of our boyfriends is the bigger dumbass.”

“What does that even mean?”

Bandit ponders his own suggestion for a short while as they both eat their ice cream in silence. “How about… we keep buying them alcohol and the one who refuses first wins. And don’t think it’ll be easy, Marius is wary now because I do things to him drunk that he wouldn’t let me do to him sober, so he’s got a strong incentive not to end up shit-faced.”

Rook grimaces at the mental image. “Really, I don’t need to know what you grandpas get up to in your free time.” And the only reason why Bandit doesn’t immediately retort something equally as snide is because he’s actually looking forward to the challenge now. They negotiate the rules the rest of the way until the youngling finally agrees right before they dive back into the thick, stuffy air of the pub they left about half an hour ago, maybe more. They ended up taking their time, surprisingly. Bandit suspects Blitz and Jäger sent the two of them away together on purpose, hoping they’ll end up bonding over God knows what even though they’re nothing alike and share next to no common interests.

A high-pitched shriek reaches their ears even before they spot Bandit’s teammates and they look at each other dubiously, both of them realising it’s Blitz who produced that noise. They find the two huddled by a corner table, fighting over a phone and sporting wide, goofy grins that immediately spark a feeling of dread in Bandit. “You’ve never been sent to the principal? Really?”, Jäger is asking incredulously as they approach the table, only to completely abandon whatever it is they were doing as soon as he catches sight of Bandit. He basically catapults himself out of his chair and wraps himself all around him, leaving entirely too wet kisses on the side of his neck and face and mumbles: “Hey babe, you were gone forever.” Blitz follows him suit, not to be bested by his friend, and hums contentedly into Rook’s shoulder after embracing him tightly.

They’re wasted. Rook and Bandit exchange another glance, this one decidedly bemused. Even in their shared exasperation, Rook mouths babe at him and smirks. “Hey, croissant, what is it that bees make out of pollen again?”, Bandit wants to know.

“Honey?”

“Yeah? What is it?”, Blitz replies dazedly and Bandit snorts at Rook’s defeated expression.

“The fuck did you guys do while we were away?”

“Okay”, Jäger starts and interrupts himself by sucking so viciously on Bandit’s skin that it actually hurts, “okay, look. We didn’t – Elias found some money after all and we were bored and there’s this Rice Purity Test online and -”

“You’re a depraved human being”, Blitz tells him gravely and the two devolve into helpless giggling again, much to their boyfriends’ dismay.

“How much did you drink?”

The two Germans untangle themselves from their lovers and start counting, correcting each other to the point of having to start over, dropping references to their test results that leave them breathless and holding on to each other for support as they slowly delve deeper into hysterics and it’s hopeless. Nowadays, they rarely get to spend time alone so Bandit can understand the sentiment of wanting to catch up, shoot the shit, whatever, only this definitely went too far. He forgot that they’re notorious for enabling each other. Rook watches the whole thing both resignedly as well as extremely amused, mirroring Bandit’s mood perfectly and isn’t this just great. They get to bond after all, even if it’s over the combined stupidity of two people that unfortunately do mean a lot to them.

“Let’s cancel the challenge”, Bandit tells him with a sigh, “we both lose.”

Rook laughs good-naturedly, making Bandit realise he’s not actually that bad after all. Maybe they can have other competitions in the future – it’s rare enough that Bandit can mock someone else for being as ridiculously infatuated as he himself is. “Yeah. I agree. Let’s just get them home, I think they’ve had enough.”

“Are we going hooome?”, Jäger picks up on the most important part of what they just said and melts against Bandit once more, all eager and loose limbs. “Are you going to do the thing again?”

“Of course I’m going to do the thing. You look so pretty when you cry.”

“Oh my God”, says Rook and this is an added bonus to keeping him around because Bandit thoroughly enjoys the scandalised expression on his face that only worsens when Blitz starts whispering in his ear as well.

[theviewfromthebooth]

Unbearable

Hey everyone. I've not written anything in a while, or had much motivation to, but everything is all over the shop right now, and a couple of weeks ago, something just came out of me. Back in those quaint times when we all still hoped this wouldn't be as bad as it is now (roughly three weeks ago), I made a joke in The Anfield Wrap office about making a disaster movie involving the Coronavirus and Liverpool's title party - the two biggest things in all of our worlds at the time. 

Well, I did it. It's a short story, but I've dreamt it as a movie, and hopefully the words will turn into images for you too. It was meant to be funny, but halfway through I realised that it isn't. It's also a bit too niche for most football or literary fiction sites (apparently), so I'm putting it up here. In the absence of any kind of appetite for the usual April Fools shenanigans, this is a good time to drop it. 

 It became a way for my mind to deal with everything – by laying out the worst case scenario, our situation becomes more bearable by comparison. Also worth noting that this was written before the government backed away (publicly at least) from herd immunity.... 

 Dedicated to my two biggest creative inspirations – Matt Groening & John Gibbons. 

                                                           -x-

UNBEARABLE:

A short story from the brain of a trying-not-to-panic Liverpool fan "For years Evertonians have been saying that the world will end if Liverpool ever win the league again......what if they were right?”

Ronnie has been planning his title party for years.  In the pub, in bed, at work, on the toilet. While his beloved Liverpool drifted nearer, then further from their holy grail, he has never wavered from what he calls his life's work. Torture is what Jan calls it. He still doesn't know how close she came to leaving after the open top bus fiasco in 2014,  but he knows he never wants to see that look in her eyes again.  She'll come around once she sees it, and feels it.

That day in 1990, when he was the same age as little Dirk is now.....the street party. The last time he remembers his parents happy. All he wants is that same unlimited joy for Dirk... and to keep him in Red. Kev was  a stubborn little so-and-so, but that won't happen again.

Back then he only had Roy Evans and his sporadically brilliant Spice Boys as ammo – now he's got Jurgen Klopp and his mentality monsters. Even Jan is changing her tune.  Ronnie couldn't believe his luck when she agreed to let him dress Dirk up as the Premier League trophy, complete with silver paint & ribbons. They won't need a bus – Adam down the road will bring his flat-bed truck. What better memory for the lad than to be paraded through the streets of Anfield, held aloft by thousands of jubilant Kopites? Just 2 wins away. He can almost taste it. Nothing can stop them now....

“It has been confirmed....all football in Britain is suspended until at least April 30th, as a result of the coronavirus. BBC Sport understands FA chairman Greg Clarke expressed his fear at Friday's emergency meeting that the season may have to be abandoned....”

The blood drains from Ronnie's face as he stares through the TV screen. The phone buzzing in his pocket snaps him back to reality, as news reaches the Whatsapp group:

Within the  walls of Whitehall, Clarke almost slips as he gets up from his chair. His head is so scrambled he offers Hancock his sweaty hand, before quickly whipping it away much to the amusement of Hancock and Johnson, and eventually Scudamore. Their laughter sends a chill through his bones. They think they've cracked it, but he KNOWS football fans. Closed doors aren't enough to keep away fans who've been waiting 30 years. And Liverpool have a LOT of fans.

As the chauffeur moves away, he takes out his phone to Google 'Herd immunity'.........

Ronnie's phone is red hot. Plans are moving at pace. Everton have been squashed and Operation Palace is full steam ahead. Dirk is bouncing off the walls in excitement and it's not even 10 am. Luckily a cuddle from cousin Danny always calms him down. Danny's dad is no such help. Kev has always been the bitterest of Blues, but claiming Dirk's life is at risk feels pretty low, even for him.

Ronnie plants a kiss just above the paint line, before pulling the woolly crown tight over the boy's ears, and hoisting him onto his shoulders. Dirk's laughter vibrates through his back as he shouts “You better get in that bunker of yours if you're that worried”, turning his snarl to a smile.  Jan takes a picture of her glassy eyed husband with the Premier league trophy, which goes down a treat in the Whatsapp group, followed by the obligatory joke about 'going viral'.

Only this time it's no joke. By the time they get to Adam's garage the streets are packed. Half of Liverpool have descended onto the estate. And they've all come to lift the trophy.

Johnson's brow furrows ever deeper as his aide lays out the situation - hiding his eyes from the mess he's created. Liverpool Council can't control the crowds. Reports suggesting as many as 3 million people are on the streets. Budget cuts sanctioned by his hand have left emergency services at breaking point, even before the 600% increase in population. Suspending public transport has caused queues of 10 miles and counting in every direction. Vaccines are running out fast, with nowhere near enough immune patients to protect the vulnerable.

His hands tighten on each other, as if the answer can be wrung from them. With the pleading eyes of his aide boring through his thinning scalp, the spell is broken. A menacing silence hangs between them.  He knows the whole country hangs on what he says next.

He knows he needs a miracle.

As the clock hits 90 minutes, so do Crystal Palace. Liverpool have roared back from an early setback to lead by 4 goals to 1. From the swaying throng in the garden of  Hotel TIA, Ronnie can feel himself let go of 30 year's worth of tension. 30 years of balls hitting posts and staying out. 30 years of penalties not given. 30 years of “should've saved that”. 30 years of “should've been us”.  All gone.

The final whistle is met with a guttural roar.  A roar 3 million strong, a roar so full of electricity that it creates a mushroom cloud over Anfield skies. Dirk reaches for his father, who doesn't miss a beat with his mock trophy lift, complete with the Henderson stutter step. Silver tears stain his face as he watches his son surfing the sea of hands.

A moment like no other.

It's only the thought of sharing the moment with Jan that causes Ronnie to reach for his phone. 34 missed calls. 55 unread on Whatsapp. “The Reds are still massive!” he thinks to himself as he opens Jan's most recent message:

“It's too late. I'm sorry. Good luck. I love you both.”

“With their country now stabilised, this new Chinese study into the Coronavirus will become the template for the rest of the world to follow. There has been some surprise at the results.  It appears children under 8 are the biggest carriers, while the fatal age threshold is only 40 years old, and could be even lower for those with a higher than normal blood alcohol level. The bad news for us here in Britain is the government's controversial 'Herd Immunity' strategy has been completely discredited”.

“FOR GOD'S SAKE TURN IT OFF!”

Anxious limbs fumble at the remote for what feels like hours, before finally, silence. Three pairs of eyes dart from George Alagaih's worried face to that of the Prime Minister.  Hancock musters the courage to meet his glare.

“At the current rate of infection, Liverpool will be at 90% by 7pm this evening. Considering what we now know about their vaccine levels, and....alcohol consumption....”

“HOW ON EARTH HAVE YOU FUCKED THIS UP? YOU TOLD ME THE SCIENCE WAS WATERTIGHT!”

“It was as watertight as could be in such an unprecedented scenario. The goalposts kept moving...” “I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR FUCKING GOALPOSTS! ALL I NEED TO HEAR FROM YOU IS HOW WE STOP IT SPREADING!”

“W-we do have a plan”.

Hancock hands over the proposal, and takes three deliberate steps back. He allows himself to exhale once he sees Johnson's eyebrows rise, and then settle, from behind the folder.

“I've run the numbers, with Sunny & Wallace. It's tight, but we can afford it.”

The Chancellor  nods slowly as Johnson looks in his direction.  A nervous head appears through the crack in the door, like a tortoise unsure of Spring.

“We need a decision, sir.”

Ronnie pants hard, darting for space like Mo Salah in a forest of defenders. He can't bring himself to believe it. Not yet. Not like this. No time. Just keep running. Half a mile from home. She'll come around once she sees us.

Dirk lets out a yelp as they're brought to an abrupt halt by Breck road traffic. Ronnie looks deeper into the faces around him. What was once drunken ecstasy is now something very different. All he sees is agony, smudged with silver. Doors have been bolted, windows shut. Songs are now screams. Visible waves of panic ripple through the crowds, as infection and information sow their seeds in real time. It takes him a while to recognize the hard thudding against his spine isn't his own heartbeat – it's his son coughing. He whips Dirk off his back and holds him in front of his face.

“Don't cry mate, it's gonna be okay” he croaks, barely able to say it let alone believe it.  Suddenly a cheer rises up ahead.  Ronnie instinctively moves towards the sound. That sound he thought he would feast on forever. Before he can pinpoint it, a larger sound fills the space. Less a sound than a NOISE. A long, buzzing noise, that prickles the neck and causes everyone to look up.

Bright white foam boxes with big red crosses fall from the sky.  More and more. Hundreds. Thousands. Cheers break out all over as boxes are ripped open, and the hugging of strangers resumes.  Ronnie releases Dirk's hand as he catches the box thrown at him, and pulls off the top.  He takes out the tablets and the bottle of water, and rubs his boy's back as he swallows them down. Overcome with relief he takes the trophy for one last spin, before placing him back on his shoulders. Home time.

“We shall not, we shall not be moved! We shall not we shall not be moved! Just like the team, that won, the football league...”

“WE SHALL NOT BE MOVED!”

Dirk waves to the little planes in the sky that saved the day.  He continues waving at the much bigger planes looming, and the giant glass bowl they're carrying.

[big-stupid-jellyfish]

i’ve tried to write something shippy and trashy for a couple of weeks, but instead i just sat down and wrote something gen and EVEN MORE TRASHY about entirely separate idea i had, i just gotta hang it there and remind myself to do better next time

bnha, 1,5k words, unrated, aizawa, kirishima, bakugou, training stuff

Aizawa never thought about becoming a teacher once he started his hero career, but once he was invited, it stuck. He saw glaring flaws in methods other teachers used - his own teachers used - that cost him and his students a little more than just a bad grade. He couldn't help trying to fix it.

In a way, trying to herd children that only started tasting their powers was no easier than fieldwork. A bit more frustrating. A lot more satisfying. Aizawa prided in every student that he helped to go out in the world and shine. Took it a little too hard, maybe, when the world wasn't kind to them.

"You know the drill, Kirishima," he said dispassionately. "I see that your physical exercises are paying off, but to improve and nail the result you need to test yourself against the real thing."

He watched the boy bounce on his feet, warming up. Kirishima grinned, thumb flicking on his nose in shy gesture, and said:

"Yeah, I came up with something. I hope it works out."

Aizawa spent some time considering his student's strengths and studying with him what was worth investing into. His exceptional personality alone could win him a lot of popularity, it shone so bright that Aizawa's eyes were starting to get irritated sometimes.

He had reservations about Kirishima's grades in academic studies, but what the boy lacked in pure abstract intellect, he made up with raw empathetic understanding of other people. Teamwork was crucial for Kirishima's success, Aizawa judged.

Special classes were normal for Aizawa's hectic course where he wanted to pack as much practical lessons into academic year as possible while still giving each student precise attention. He still combined lessons when he could.

"Bakugou, I hope you understand that this is Kirishima's special training. I invited you to provide force to test his hardening, not to show off your strength," he told the other student who was impassively waiting for the signal to start. "The moment you go overboard I will erase your quirk."

The warning caused a scornful grimace on Bakugou's face. It was far too obvious that the notion stung Bakugou's pride too quickly, but Aizawa wasn't going to go easier on him. This student of his was strong, stronger than any kid that came across Aizawa's watchful eye lately by wide margin. But in his single-minded ambition he bore precursors of his fall in the future. Aizawa was yet to find a way to communicate that to his student. He wasn't entirely sure it was his responsibility either.

"I'm not a moron," Bakugou predictably snapped at Aizawa. "If he doesn't break, then there will be no fucking overboard," he added, nodding at his classmate in jerky motion.

"Well I'm glad you're so sure in Kirishima," Aizawa replied evenly. "The warning still stands."

He took a note of Bakugou's attitude. Aizawa watched that very kid methodically, arrogantly win every opponent at sports festival and get furious that the victory was given him too easily. And yet he expected Kirishima to not lose this time.

Bakugou muttered something rude in response, but didn't press the issue further. He turned to Kirishima and stared him down.

"Thank you for agreeing to help me, Bakugou," Kirishima reflected the murderous glare as if it was nothing. "That means a lot to me!"

Aizawa reached into his pocket for his eye drops. He didn't really count that Kirishima's mending personality could be used to introduce Bakugou to perks of cooperating with others, not enough to spell it out and call it a plan, but now he had the opportunity to confirm that the groundwork for that was already there. He saw that in Bakugou's face as he blinked in confusion at Kirishima's words and frowned again.

"Cut the crap, or I'll beat you right now."

"Alright, get ready," Aizawa cut the banter off. Kirishima changed his stance to defense, hard skin covering him entirely. Small cracking noise started at Bakugou ignited sparks on his palms. "Start."

Hearing loud explosion, Aizawa took a step back instinctively. He tried to watch Bakugou for his power output while also watching Kirishima's state. It wasn't that much of a fight as just Bakugou delivering punishing explosive punches to Kirishima while the latter tried to not break his defense.

It was still astonishing how much power was in Bakugou's hands. As if just natural talent wasn't enough, Bakugou was smart about his quirk. Aizawa watched how he changed hands frequently, not missing a single explosions to his classmate's face, aiming for the weak spots as he watched Kirishima trying to give more protection to certain areas at cost of others. He was fearsome in his seriousness about this lesson.

Kirishima didn't budge, though. He learned from his fight with Bakugou during sports festival, rock skin rippling on his front. It wasn't good enough, of course, because Bakugou started circling around, taking advantage of Kirishima's stationary position and delivering explosive blows from every direction now.

After a bit, Aizawa thought they were at impasse. Bakugou consistently searched out weak spots. Kirishima wasn't providing in that, but he was effectively immobilized. Aizawa didn't see anything new in this yet, and he considered calling it for the day.

"Come on, Bakugou, what's with those weak explosions?" Kirishima suddenly said in between the punches, evidently calculating the moment to be heard. "You can do better than that. Like in that fight with Uraraka," he provoked Bakugou further.

Bakugou's brow twitched in irritation. Kirishima grinned, toothy smile splitting the rock hard skin of his face, and that aggravated Bakugou even more. He threw his hand directly towards Kirishima, explosion blasting straight into his classmate's face, stronger and angrier than previous, then another, and a third one, each more furious, more destructive. Aizawa prepared to erase Bakugou's quirk in instant, but Kirishima was still standing.

Strange creaking sound added to the rhythm of explosions, and it took a second to realize that the source of that sound was Kirishima.

Sharp ridges were rising above Kirishima's skin, ripping through his uniform, whitish like a bone. His face transformed with a monstrous expression, rock skin covering lips and nose fully, sharp teeth growing longer.

The most unnerving were the eyes, Aizawa thought, whites of them cracked and uneven like a boulder, with bright crimson irises shining through the transparent layer of corneas. That was some other kind of monster he hadn't seen before, never suspecting that someone like Kirishima could harbor it inside him.

"Now we're getting somewhere," Bakugou said, his expression strangely mirroring Kirishima's with a vicious smile. He threw both hands before him, guiding both explosions in a single point into Kirishima's face.

Loud snap followed. Aizawa admired Kirishima's control of his quirk: he unhardened precisely in two points, shoulder and elbow joints on one hand, to launch it forward to grasp at his classmate's throat, fingers crooked and pointy from layers of rock skin.

The move wasn't finished. Kirishima let out a disappointed "Oh", and instantly his limbs grew slack, skin smoothening and losing protection. He stumbled and fell down.

Bakugou watched him, hand covering his neck where a row of scratches reddened.

"Get the fuck up," he growled at Kirishima, sparkles falling down his other hand. "Hey! Get up and fight!"

Kirishima had no chance or time to get up or harden again, and Aizawa reacted quickly, pulling the imaginary ribbon he envisioned his quirk with, and sparkles stopped. The explosion never came, and Bakugou looked at teacher with scorn.

"I warned you about going overboard," Aizawa said sternly.

"He didn't break," Bakugou glared at Aizawa, bouncing that stern expression right back at him.

That was funny, Aizawa thought. He thought he heard defensive tone in Bakugou's angry remark.

"Sorry, I couldn't hold it," Kirishima caught his breath, still on the ground. "I think I shouldn't have tried to move while in unbreakable."

"Unbreakable, huh," Aizawa repeated.

"Get up. Let's do it again," Bakugou beckoned him, sounding impatient, as if he was excited to test himself against Kirishima's boosted defenses.

Kirishima brought a hand to his face, examining it. His fingers shook slightly.

"Nope, can't do right now," he said sadly. "I'm sorry about that," he told Bakugou again. His classmate scoffed at apology.

"You overexhausted your quirk," Aizawa butted in before his students could come up with anything stupid. "You need rest right now. I'm calling it a day."

Kirishima pouted, clearly upset, and got up. The excitement from him showing his new skill wore off, and the boy was clearly embarrassed that he couldn't hold it for longer, but his improvements certainly deserved praise.

To Aizawa's surprise, Bakugou did it for him.

"Fucking train this so I can kick your ass later," he glared at Kirishima with hawkish expression.

"In your dreams," Kirishima stared back, immediately accepting the challenge. Disappointment left his face, and Aizawa noted a hint of satisfaction on Bakugou's face as he watched his classmate cheering up and smiling at him.

Aizawa closed his eyes and reached for eye drops again. Kids this year were so bright he was afraid he was going to end up blind because of them.