#and then i have two days of administrative work - four more days off -

[teyvathandymenclub]

Bring Your Child to Work Day

Characters: Neuvillette, Itto, Cyno, Ayato

TW: None

Neuvillette

It has been two days since you fell sick not being able to leave your bed. Your husband was always really caring, but his loving personality shined especially on days like this. You have never been more thankful for him being by your side. Neuvillette even took time off from work which happened only once when your daughter was born.

But being such an important figure in Fontaine comes with responsibilities that he could not ignore, so he had to leave for a few hours.

“Honey, what are you doing?” You almost laughed when you saw him packing your daughter's backpack.

“Packing for our business trip.” Neuvillette smiled at you happily, seeing you feeling a little bit better. 

“I am fine, she can stay with me.”

“No. And I am not going to discuss that any further.” Neuvillette hugged you tightly and left with the little girl in one hand and her backpack in the other.

After arriving at Palais Mermonia, the little girl started shuffling too much so Neuvillette put her down. She immediately straightened her dress and stuck her chin up just like her daddy always does after entering the building. Neuvillete went straight towards his office not realizing his daughter mirroring his majestic walk, filling the hallway with loud taps right behind him as she tried to keep up with him. 

Everyone almost melted at the sight of the little girl, but no one dared to speak to or touch the child of the Judex.

Neuvillette settled behind his desk and gave his daughter all the supplies to keep her occupied for some time. She took out all of her crayons and started to draw. Neuvillette almost tapped himself on the shoulder for amazing management of the situation until he realized that he was blessed with a drawing of a weirdly mixed pony and snake on one of the contracts that he just signed. When he took it away from her, she grabbed another. 

“No baby, these are daddy´s papers, these are yours.”

He had to wrestle her for the papers for a moment until he gave up and put her down from his desk.

“That is my chair. I want to sit in the big chair.” The little girl protested.

“No, that is my chair, but I will let you sit there when I finish…”

“Daddy splash, splash!!” She interrupted him.

“No, Daddy can not, he would make a mess in his office my dear...” 

But before he could finish his sentence, the little girl summoned her power out of nowhere as she started running around and made a huge puddle in every corner of his office. 

Neuvillette jumped up from his seat and started to chase her. He even almost slipped once before he finally caught her and carried her out of his office under his arm like a bag of potatoes.

“I did not know that my daughter is such a devilish little dragon.” He mumbled as he was looking for a melusine. 

“I know I have never made this kind of request, but can you entertain her for a few minutes? I would not ask you if it would not be an emergency.” He said, almost ashamed. 

“Absolutely! However long you need.” One of the melusines smiled, excited from such an unexpected task.

After quickly finishing work in peace, Neuvillette packed the pink backpack thinking about not bringing it again, and left to look for his daughter. It took him a while until he heard her giggle in one of the administrative rooms. The little girl was surrounded by at least four melusines playing games unknown to Neuvillette. 

“I do not know how to thank you.” He said full of gratitude.

“Do not mention it Mr. Neuvillette. We were glad to help!” Melusines said almost in unison and waved goodbye as he picked her up into his arms.

“I think we deserve a little treat after a long work day.” He smiled at his daughter in the streets of Fontaine. 

“Yes! Yes! Ice cream!” She jumped. “And for Mommy too!”

“Absolutely! We can not forget to pick medicine for her and her favorite treat to cheer her up.” Neuvillette smiled.

“Balloons!!!” The little girl screamed and ran away.

Neuvillette ran after her while he thought about whether or not shops sell leashes for little dragons.

Itto

That morning you woke up with someone standing right next to your side of the bed.

“Itto? What is going on?!” You asked confused.

“I have decided that today is the day when I am going to introduce our son to my gang.” Itto smiled brightly with a baby carrier strapped to his body.

“Your gang? You do not have a gang anymore.”

“But we stayed friends and still call ourselves a gang, Mrs. Smart.” Itto rolled his eyes.

“I know, I am just teasing you.” You pulled him down to you to kiss him. “I think it is a good idea, but you need to be careful. Can you promise me that?”

“Absolutely? You do not know me? I am the most…” Itto stopped himself after he saw your raised brows. “Do not worry, wifey. Love you. Bye!”

Itto suddenly disappeared, leaving you confused when you heard your son coo in his crib. After a few minutes, the door on your home opened with Itto´s head peeking into your bedroom.

“Did you forget something?” You asked, not making it easy for him.

“Yeeeah, about that… Have I left our son here? Or should I look elsewhere?”

“Itto? Are you joking??” You looked at the baby in the crib.

“Of course! Of course, I am joking.” Itto reached for his son and strapped him into the baby carrier. “Bye-bye.” Itto waved at you with little Oni´s hand in his and left.

Once he met with his gang he could not stop bragging how strong and amazing his son is. Just like his father, obviously. 

After they finished lunch, Itto dragged them into the woods on a mission to find a big beetle that he could train for his son.

“But Boss! He can't even walk yet.” Argued one of the boys.

“He can start any day now, I need to be prepared. It is not easy to train a new champion. You need to start early!” Itto shut him down.

After a few hours of unsuccessful searching for the biggest and mightiest beetle, the gang left for lunch number two. And also the baby boy smelled because he needed a clean diaper.

As Itto left the restaurant with a full belly and the baby with a freshly changed diaper, he heard the sound of some kind of rock music in the distance.

“Boys! There is a concert that we are missing! We need to check it out!”

When they finally arrived, Itto frowned, realizing that he could not take a baby to the concert with such loud music. 

“Boss! Where are you going?”

“I will be right back!” Itto ran away, holding his son's ears.

And he truly came back in a few minutes with a sleeping baby in the carrier and big noise-canceling headphones on his little head.

Not long after it was time for dinner, the whole gang visited the local market with freshly cooked food. The place was crowded, but it was worth it to stay there for all the delicious meals they offered there.

“Oh, sorry big guy, I am leaving crumbles all over your head.” Itto looked down and realized that the carrier was empty. “In the name of the lavender melon, no!” Itto screamed.

He immediately gathered everyone from the gang to look for his son. Itto was never afraid of anything. Except beans. And his wife. And if she finds out that he lost little Oni, there would be no Oni left after she is done with him.

In the meantime, Kuki looked after the baby, because she saw Itto had been occupied with ordering food. When she saw all the boys running around the market like headless chickens, she realized that someone had forgotten that the baby was with her. After letting them marinate in fear she finally took mercy on them and brought the baby back to the big Oni.

“Kuki! Where did you find him?!” Itto kissed his son´s face. “You just saved my life Shinobu!” He reached out to her to do the same, but she immediately stopped him.

“Just say thank you, Boss.” She smiled.

“Thank you! And…” Itto lowered his voice. “Do not tell my wife. She would have me sleep on the couch. No cuddles for me for the rest of the month. Can you imagine?”

Cyno

You were never into the idea of Cyno training your daughter. But he kept begging you and you knew that he would not put your child in any danger, so today, with a heavy heart, you finally let them go. 

“But only for a moment, before work. Ok?” You looked at him with worry.

Cyno could not contain his excitement as he sat down with his girl on his forearm and left your house with a bright smile. He was toying with the idea of going behind your back, but he quickly brushed it. He respected and loved you too much to do something like that.

Now, after waiting for so long Cyno was on his way with the child holding him around the neck. With a bag full of water and snacks on his back, he reached his favorite spot where he used to train by himself when he was just a kid.

“Here we are!” Cyno smiled at his girl. “Now Daddy is going to put you down and we can fight a little. What do you think?”

“You are going to lose!” The little girl, barely school age, said with a confident smirk.

“Why do you sound just like your mommy?” Cyno chuckled.

He knew his daughter had the soul of a fighter, just like her parents, but she still surprised him. Every stance, every move… She quickly adapted and Cyno´s heart was full when he saw her reaching for his polearm.

“One day it will be all yours. Mine gift only for you. But not today, ok?”

A silent cry was her answer and Cyno knew it was time to go.

“Someone is a little cranky. How about we head back to the village.” He said to himself and packed the stuff that he brought.

With a tired child positioned on his forearm with small hands wrapped around his neck again, Cyno headed back to civilization. Now and then he stopped to show her beautiful flowers that were typical for this part of the world and explained them to her. With each stop, the little girl was less and less interested in the fauna that her father was showing her.

“That is ok.” He mumbled. “We have the whole life ahead of us to teach you everything I know.” Cyno smiled proud of being able to share his wisdom with his own blood.

When they finally reached the village, Cyno settled in his office after he tucked his daughter on the small sofa in the next room. After dealing with the most important tasks of the day, you surprised him with lunch and a plan to take your daughter home with you.

“A meal for our child. Take it as an exchange type of business.” You laughed.

“But she was supposed to be with me the whole day,” Cyno argued with an upset look all over his face.

“You are about to head out. You thought that I would let you take her to visit criminals?” You raised your brow.

“I would not… You shelter her too much.”

“So do you. Just in a different way.” 

You kissed him and with a smile, you left with your sleeping child in your arms.

Cyno wanted to argue that he did not know what you meant by that, but he knew all too well. Since he held her for the first time, he could not stop imagining the day when he would no longer be there to protect her. If there is only one thing that he would be able to accomplish in his life, it would be to teach his daughter to protect herself like he protects both of you.

Ayato

Ayato always took pride in his family. First, his sister. Then he met you. When you blessed him with your yes, he hardly could have imagined to be even happier than he already was. Proud husband of the most beautiful and intelligent woman he ever met. But then your son was born. His world, his heart expanded and there was not a moment when he would not talk about the two of you. Everything crushed when he visited you in the garden as he came back home after his work travels. As he reached for you to kiss you, your son tried to push him away. 

Ayato froze.

“Oh, do not mind him.” You smiled. “You have been gone a little too long this time and maybe he just needs to get used to you being around again.” You tried to reassure him as you hugged him tightly.

Ayato smiled at you and got down on his knee to hug his son. You knew it was not a good idea, but did not interfere. As expected, the boy pushed him and ran away. 

“I got used to it, but he is too small to accept the concept of someone traveling for days without him. Give him time.” You comforted your husband.

“You are right, my dear.” Ayato hugged you around your waist. “As always.” He smiled.

“Maybe you can show him what you do, hm?” 

“You mean… Like to take him to work with me? What a strange idea.”

“Trust me.” You silenced him with a kiss.

The next morning, Ayato was already prepared to start his day before dawn when he remembered your proposal. When he opened the door to his son's bedroom, he found him deep in the sleep. Since that moment, Ayato felt like he had done everything wrong. He woke his son and tried to make him dress up for the day.

“Shhh, we do not want to wake up your mommy.” Ayato tried to calm the boy politely.

After exhausting fighting in the bedroom, it was finally time for the real fight. Ayato did not want to miss his daily morning sword training.

“I have got something for you.” Ayato handed his son a beautifully packed box. 

When the boy smiled, Ayato felt a deep relief. Until the boy opened the box where he found a perfectly crafted wooden sword from the highest quality wood ever found. Ayato expected to see his son´s face to light up as yours always does when he brings you gifts from his travels. But the boy looked at him with disappointment written all over his face. He never showed any interest in the art of swords, but Ayato kept telling himself that it was just a matter of time. 

Ayato tried to train for an hour that felt like an eternity, but his son did not want to cooperate. All he got was a huge bruise on his shin after the boy swung his new sword with the power of a grown man.

Your husband tried to keep his composure in front of you during breakfast and your questions about his weird walk were not answered. You knew all too well what happened because the screams of your son were probably heard by the whole island so you checked on them. 

“We will be in my office if you need anything.” Ayato kissed you and picked up the boy.

“Are you sure?” You smiled knowing just by looking at your husband how tired he was.

“Yes, my dear. Have some faith in me.” 

You wanted to, but knowing your son´s hyperactivity and Ayato´s need for peace and order… It was like a clash of titans and you wanted to help. Then you realize it is time for Ayato to step up as a father. To show your son the right example of a good man. So you stayed away. Even after hours of listening to constant running around the office, tearing sound of the papers, knocking down decorations… Until you heard the last knock. The doors of Ayato's office suddenly opened. When he saw you, he did not say a thing. He did not need to. His clothes were drenched from ink. Ayato disappeared for a moment so you peeked into his office and found it in complete disarray. Your boy was sitting there playing with an empty bottle of ink so you started picking up all the loose papers.

“Leave it. Please.” Ayato said out of nowhere. “I will take care of it later. Now is time for a little walk.”

Dressed in clean clothes he reached for his son and left. Your heart almost sank. It was not funny anymore and all you could do was to hope that their relationship would get better as soon as possible.

Ayato felt completely lost. How is it possible that he could make a deal even with the worst diplomats that this world has and he is not able to find a common ground with his own son?

As he walked down the lane full of Sakuras that he used to walk by with you by his side when he was still courting you, lost in his thoughts, the boy started shouting.

“Mommy, mommy!” 

Ayato turned over to look for you, but they were alone. “Mommy is home. She is not here.”

“Mommy, mommy, mommy!” The little boy kept shouting while reaching for something.

Ayato looked up and realized that all the boy wants are the flowers blooming on the trees. So he reached up to pick a few and handed them to the little one. The boy instantly got quiet and looked almost… content.

“Mommy. Yes, little man. You are right.” Ayato smiled. 

How could he possibly forget? On one of your walks, he picked a Sakura flower and put it in your hair. Since then, you always wear some once in a while to remind you of your beginnings.

“Let us go back and bring Mommy your gift. Ok?”

When they finally reached the borders of your home, the little boy started running towards the gardens. He spotted you immediately in your usual place and with a loud mumbling of random words he gifted you a beautiful bouquet of pink flowers.

“Wau! What a beautiful gift.” You kissed your proud son on his head as a thank you. “Did you pick them all by yourself?”

“No!” A loud shout filled the peaceful garden. “Daddy! Daddy, help!” The little boy shouted as he ran to Ayato and hugged him tightly around his leg.

“Oh? What a good daddy!” You smiled and looked at your husband. You would swear that you spotted tears in his eyes. 

Ayato was looking at you, unable to look away. No matter how hard his day was, he knew he would not want it any other way. Then he looked down at his son still hugging his leg and realized that he is going to be tall like him. He could not know it for sure, but he just knew. Tall just like him, with the hair of his beautiful mother and eyes in a perfect blend of both of you.

As he sat down next to you with your son in his lap, all he could think about was how thankful he was for being made to slow down and appreciate your work for your family. He always admired you for being a perfect wife and mother. But after this day, he was thankful even more and promised to take at least one day off to be with both of you.

Ayato that night held you and kissed you with so much care and love just like the day you gave him your son. He forgot for a moment that family will always be the most important thing. And he will never forget again.

[blueeyedgirll]

cuddles - emily prentiss x bau!reader

this fic includes: fluff, cuddling, only one bed trope (kind of?), vague descriptions of cm typical violence, no beta or proofread we die like emily’s fake death, penelope garcia being the best person to ever have graced the earth, no use of y/n, f!reader

a/n: guys i’m on season 7 now (^_-) also i don’t know how the fbi works SUE ME

“God, what a mess!” Emily exclaims, setting her bags down in the corner of the hotel room.

Unfortunately, due to the horrendously overcrowded convention going on nearby and your latest unsub’s comfort zone, you, JJ, Penelope, and Emily were forced to share a room.

“I can’t believe they could only give us two rooms. Couldn’t we have just stayed somewhere else?” JJ adds, removing her coat and hanging it in the room’s tiny closet.

“Unfortunately, my friends, our administration seems to love us enough to pay for our hotels, but not enough to move us into a company they don’t have a rapport with,” Penelope explains. She removes her hair accessories and piles them on the bathroom counter, her foot wedged in the bathroom door to stay in the conversation. “But it’s like a sleepover! Us girls get to share a room, and the boys have their own.”

“I haven’t had a sleepover since I was 12,” JJ says.

“Me neither,” you pipe up. “So who’s sleeping where tonight?”

Your eyes scan the room. Four girls, two beds, and eight eyes glancing at each other.

“I’m fine with sharing, but I do need to let you know I tend to steal blankets,” Penelope says, placing her accessories in a small box.

“Yeah, I’m fine with anything.” JJ says.

You and Emily briefly lock eyes. If you said sleeping in the same bed as Emily didn’t sound amazing, you’d be a liar. She’d been distracting you from your work and almost all your thoughts for the last few weeks; something about her demeanor, or her dark, sharp features, or that streak of playfulness she lets show on occasion. Whatever it is, it continues to drive you up a wall.

“Well, if none of you care, I want the bed closer to the AC unit because it is a stupidly warm night here.” Penelope steps over to the bed on the right side of the room, unpacking a fuzzy blanket and an extra pillow — how did she fit that in there? — from her bag.

“True that. If you two don’t mind, I’ll sleep closer to the AC too.” JJ says, looking between the two of you before moving.

“Yeah, go ahead.” You say, just a little bit too happy. You tell Emily to go ahead and get comfortable because you’re going to change. She nods as you shut yourself in the bathroom.

You use the bathroom to take a moment, take a breath. Part of you wonders what it will be like, sleeping in the same bed as Emily. The rest of you wonders how you’re going to keep your cool.

You change into your sleep clothes, a tank top and small shorts. The cool air of the room makes the hair on your body stand up.

You walk back out to a dark, silent room. The only light left on was the one to the left of Emily.

“Ready for bed?” she asks.

“Yeah,” you say, climbing into bed and wrapping the soft covers around you. Emily clicks the light off and slides down in the bed.

Before you can even start relaxing, images of the day flash back into your mind. The things the unsub did to his victims. The distraught loved ones of the deceased. The endless papers, leading you to repeated dead ends.

It only feels like a few minutes, but over the course of time, you grow colder and more restless. You toss and turn, trying to get more comfortable, but to no avail. Sighing, you turn to check the time, trying to find an estimate of how much sleep you would get.

The clock reads 4:24. You start contemplating just waking up extra early, but before you can reach a conclusion, you hear a whisper.

“Hey, you alright?” Emily whispers, turning to face you.

You pause for a moment. How honest should you be?

“Yeah, just… cold,” you say.

Emily takes a moment. You think she’s going to get up to grab a blanket, or lend you a hoodie, or anything else, but she scoots over to where you are and wraps her warm arms around your body. She gives you a firm squeeze. You know she knows you’re not just cold.

She starts to move away like it was just a hug. Before you can make a better decision, your hands stop her.

“Do you want me to stay?” Emily whispers.

You nod. Even though the darkness, Emily understands. She moves back to you, tucking your head into her shoulder. She wraps her arms around your middle and pulls the blanket fully over you.

She smells like lotion and coffee and clean clothes. It’s addictive. You nuzzle your head deeper into her, earning a small laugh and her hand making its way into your hair. She runs her nails over your scalp, brushing the hair off your neck.

“Are you okay?” she asks. You just hum, making her laugh again. “Goodnight. Sleep well for me.”

And with her arms around you, hand in your hair, you drift off into a comforting sleep.

bonus — the next morning, you wake up to giggling, which is quickly hushed. the entire day you and emily are the victims of glances and hushed whispers. on the jet home, you finally decide to ask penelope what was up with it. she doesn’t verbally respond, just shows you a picture of you sleeping like a baby, tucked into emily’s chest. at that moment she comes over, smiles, and walks back to her seat.

[ms-demeanor]

if we're like, showing graphs and stuff, this is the type that i think a lot of people on tumblr are thinking of when they think about the economy.

Only one third of people with family incomes below $50k spent less than their income each month. I would guess that a lot of people on tumblr who get aggro about this topic (and the vast majority of people on r/povertyfinance, who discuss this sort of thing a lot) fall into this earning category.

Real wage increases only matter if you got a raise (one third of workers got a raise last year, which means that 2/3rds didn't - included in the economic wellbeing report linked above). Whether or not rent is outpacing wages only matters if you're not going to be rent burdened (more than a third of renter households are cost burdened in every state and 12 million rental households spend more than half their income on rent). Employment rates lose a lot of meaning when you're working multiple jobs to make ends meet (the percentage of multiply employed workers was falling in the US from 1996 to the 2010s, when it plateaued, then it started rising slightly then collapsed in 2020 and has been rising steeply since then and it's too soon to tell if it's going to go back to the plateau or keep going up).

Four in ten adults in the US is carrying some level of medical debt (even people who are insured) and 60% of people with medical debt have cut back on food, clothes or household items; about 50% of people with medical debt have used up all their savings.

Tumblr is the broke people website and yeah, people who are working two jobs to afford $900 for one room and utilities in a three bedroom apartment are not going to feel great about the economy even if real wages are raising and inflation-adjusted rents are actually pretty stable. "The Rent is too Damn High" has been a meme for 14 years so, like, yeah. Even if it's pretty stable when adjusted for inflation it is stable and HIGH.

It's hard to feel good about the economy when you're spending the last few days of the pay period hoping nothing unexpected hits your account, and it's VERY frustrating to be told that the economy's doing well when you've had to start selling blood to buy groceries.

Sure, unemployment is low, that's neat. It's good that inflation has stabilized (it genuinely has; prices are not likely to fall back to pre-inflation rates and eventually you'll likely be paid enough to reach equilibrium, but a lot of people aren't there yet).

But, like, it costs eight thousand dollars a year out of pocket to keep my spouse alive. I'd guess that we've paid off about a third of the 40-ish thousands of dollars he's racked up since his heart attack. His medical debt is why I don't have a retirement plan beyond "I guess I'll die?" So talking about how good the economy is kind of feels like being chained in the bottom of a pit that is slowly filling with water while people on the surface talk about the fact that the rain is tapering off. Neat! That's good! But I can't really see it from where I'm standing.

Inflation really is getting better. My state just enacted a $20 minimum wage for fast food workers. The Biden administration has worked hard to reduce many kinds of healthcare costs. A lot of people have had significant portions of their student debt cancelled.

But a lot of people are still having trouble affording groceries and it doesn't seem helpful to say "your perception of the economy is decoupled from the reality of the economy" on the "can I get a few dollars for food today?" website.

[hunnylagoon]

The Killing Moon

PT1: Camp Spirit

Ellie Williams x Reader

Of all the paths you take in life, make sure a few of them are dirt.

Premise: You are a camp counsellor who comes back year after year to be at peace in the one place you love the most. Though there is something different in the air, could it be love or maybe an ancient evil you’ve mistakenly awakened?

Warnings: slight mentions of violence / mentions of monsters and cryptids / raunchy humour / spooky?

The Killing Moon Playlist

PART TWO: The Colour Wars

Week One of Summer Camp

Camp Honey Hills is what you could call 'off the radar'. It sat way up past the hills and forests of Oregon, relatively untouched by the urban nightmare of the city. It stayed peaceful and undisturbed as leaves shed from trees and snow covered every inch of ground, but the camp was alive for one season of the year. Even in the quietness of preparing for the campers to arrive you could still hear counsellors laughing with one another and that's how you could tell the camp was waking up from its ten-month slumber.

"Anyone in the White Tail Deer Cabin, over here!" I held my hand up and waved to the kids piling out of the buses, carrying duffle bags bigger than themselves. The first day of camp was always the most stressful, the only thing to get you through was the idea that it would be over soon and we could get to the fun part of summer.

I already had a handful of girls crowding around me, all of them were either ten or eleven; depending on how you look at it, I either got blessed or cursed that I was assigned to a cabin of older girls. While the younger ones were wild and untamable, the older ones tended to be snarky and standoffish, these girls we’re leaning toward wild.

"Hi," I look up from my clipboard to see a scrawny girl, she has long black hair in two French braids, a summer camp staple. "My thing says that Ellie is my counsellor and I don't know who that is."

"All good," I bend down to her height, "It's that pretty girl over there," I point at Ellie, she's talking to one of the girls in her cabin, and her dark eyebrows are furrowed at what I can only assume to be an absurd question. "You're in the Grizzly Cabin, looks like I'll be seeing a lot of you."

The girl doesn't answer me with words, from the way she's looking at me you'd think I just told her that I sat on her hamster. She gives me one last side glance before she struts off and lugs her duffle bag behind her. "That weird girl said I was in your cabin," I hear ever so faintly in the distance, Ellie bites back a laugh.

I shake off the not-so-subtle cruelty of a pre-teen and go back to yelling for all of the girls in my cabin. So far I had seven of the eight campers I was supposed to have, I was in the lead and if I collected all of the girls in my cabin first, that would be more points towards the camp cup. You should know that I take the camp cup very seriously, it really isn't anything more than a trophy that Tommy and Joel give to a cabin but I haven't lost it in the past five years that I've worked here. 

"Is your name Tamar?" I point at a stubby ginger girl, "You look like your name is Tamar," I was on the hunt for the eighth girl in my cabin so I could win the arrival day points. 

"Uh, no," She said, looking as muddled as scrambled eggs "My name is Marcy."

"Then get out of here, Marcy," I look past her and nod at a girl with skin the colour of ebony wood "Are you Tamar?" This girl looks around to double-check that I'm talking to her before she shakes her head no.

"Who's my counsellor then?" Marcy who stands at a maximum of what looks to be a mighty 4'3 is peering into my soul with her icy blue eyes and I almost shudder, all I could think is that someone needed to get this four-foot-nothing girl some contact lenses.

"Your counsellor and cabin should be on the slip of paper that administration gave you."

"I lost my paper."

"Um," I glance around at the other counsellors, collecting their campers. My eyes settle on Abby, she's wearing a Camp Honey Hills T-shirt. She looks like she's got everything more put together and organized than any other counsellor so I decided to dump this kid on her. "It's that blonde girl with the big muscles, you better hurry because she'll crush you if you aren't there in time."

Marcy looks at Abby and then back to me with wide eyes at my words before she scurries away. As I watch her roll up to Abby's group, I quickly realize that there is no way she is in that cabin. Abby got the oldest group, consisting of fourteen and fifteen-year-olds and I was sure that Marcy, with all of her missing teeth, was no older than nine. I avert my eyes to avoid any wrath.

I spot Jesse who is trying to wrangle up his boys who are already rough housing and throwing each other in the dirt. Somehow he always ends up with the returning campers or the savage ones who would surely put my head on a stick before taking a shower. 

"Is this the White Tail Deer Cabin?" A girl with pale skin and brown hair stares me down, she's tall for her age and lanky.

"Are you Tamar?"

"Yeah," She says it like she's annoyed.

"Perfect," I smile, turning to my group "Alright girls, that's everyone," I turn to look in Tommy's direction "I said that's everyone," I enunciate louder to be sure he can hear me, each of my campers gives one another a snide glance. 

Tommy presses his lips together in a thin line and answers me with a thumbs-up. He already knew I would be the first to get my group together, I always was. He and Joel are the camp directors, they were talking about something before I called their attention.

Marcy points at me and Abby looks in my direction, her eyebrows knit together. Great, now I was being snitched on my nine-year-old. Abby calls out my name but I'm already ushering my girls towards the cabins "Who wants to see the cabin?"

In just moments, I'm long gone and walking the trail to the girl's cabins. Breathing one last moment of peace, the earthy bitterness in the air, droplets of last night's rain slipping off leaves. It made me want to savour every moment in the forest I had before summer ended and I had to go back to stuffy dorms and lectures along with people as boring as the city itself. I've never been able to fathom why anyone would dream of the city, of the drug users and creepy men roaming the streets. Concrete everything and headaches from blue light, every day that I was away at college I dreamed of coming back here, I counted down the days I could turn my phone off and disappear from the world for a while.

The boys may have had a shorter walk to their bunkhouse but the girls definitely got the better view. It also didn't hurt that the circle of cabins was right beside the pasture so we woke up to watch horse grazing, unless you don't like horses, then you can just ignore them I guess.

"Okay, ladies," I open the door to our cabin, a little carving of a doe above the doorframe. "This is our cabin, go ahead and claim your bunks, I don't care who goes where, just don't fight about it and no one set up on my bed."

"How do we know which one is yours?" One of the girls, Leslie, asks. 

"Because it's the only one that's set up," I say, bluntly and I see the realization hit her like it was a math equation that finally clicked in her head "You guys can unpack and I'll go over the cabin constitution in a minute."

As my campers piled into the cabin, ravenously fighting over who got which bed, I saw Ellie walking up with her girls. Our cabins were right next to each other, we shared a little porch that Maria decorates with plants while Ellie and I neglect them until they're wilted and we try to save them so we don't get yelled at. Alternatively, dump the responsibility of nurturing plants on one of your campers, kids love to water stuff and feel important.

Ellie's campers begin to walk up the porch and into the cabin, one of her girls runs up to me "I wanna be in your cabin again," Lana pouts, I had her last year and I can't say that I have a least favourite camper but if I could, it would definitely be Lana. "Ellen is so mean."

"Well, maybe she would be nicer if you said her name right." I look up to see Ellie who mouths a 'Thank you'  "Call her Ellie and maybe you two can be nice to each other."

Lana looks between the two of us before wordlessly walking into the cabin in trail of the other girls. "It's shaping up to be an interesting summer."

"We've survived worse," I cross my arms "Do you remember Tucker? That kid Jesse had who managed to tie a piece of dental floss around a wasp and carry it around with him all day like a balloon."

"He was a little weird but he was chill," Ellie jokes, like every other counsellor, she's wearing the Honey Hills T-Shirt and Demin shorts, her auburn hair pulled back into a half up half down style "How about that girl in Dina's cabin who wrote Reid letters pretending to be Priya?"

I laugh "I can't believe it went on so long."

"I can, Reid's a fucking idiot." She says "He pronounces chutney like chut-uh-ney."

"Oh my god, I hate that so much," I was obviously dragging on this conversation, hunting for reasons to talk to her "And the way he says Ibiza and Cuba and like everything." 

"Do you remember when he joined the women supporting women club in high school?"

"Please don't remind me, that was awful," I chuckle "The worst part is that he ran that shit like the navy."

"Are you coming inside?" Chloe pokes her head out the door.

"I guess so," I answer "Uh, I'll see you at the campfire," I tell Ellie before stepping into my cabin and seeing pure chaos. The four bunkbeds that were pristinely set up just hours ago were now clad in each girl's personal bedding, ranging from Chloe's neat colour scheme of light blue and white to Kim's mismatched quilts, fuzzy pillows, and bright orange sleeping bag. They were still working on getting everything set up, specifically getting the fitted sheets onto the twin-sized waterproof mattress. Some of the girls were even beginning to tape up photos of their friends and family from back home. "Wow, looks great girls."

"Can we go to dinner yet?" Leslie asked, her twin braids hanging over her pink hoodie.

"No, it is three o'clock but we will go over the cabin constitution."  A couple of the girls let out groans of disapproval "First you always listen to me, do as I say not as I do. Respect others and their belongings, please don't hurt anyone or yourself. Maintain personal hygiene and do not go anywhere without telling someone where. Also, we have shower schedules, showers are absolutely mandatory, and no one will talk their way out of it. On Friday's we have tuck shop, and everyone gets a twenty dollar allowance for that, no you do not actually touch the money it's part of the camp package, I take your orders and come back with candy. We have campfires every night, breakfast, lunch, and dinner are mandatory to attend even if you don't eat which I strongly encourage you do."

"Do we have to go if we're sick?" Tamar asked me.

"No."

"But you just said it was mandatory."

"It's mandatory if you aren't sick."

"But you said-

"Stop," I clasp my hands together "I know I'm older than you guys but I promise you can tell me and ask me anything." I smile, looking around "Any other questions?"

"Can we swear?" Valentina asks, she's kicking her feet off her bed on the top bunk. Her skin is the colour of copper and she has a little dusting of freckles over her button nose.

"I don't really care just don't do it around other adults and don't tell them that I told you that."

"What's the wifi?" Morgan was typing something on her phone which was by far more expensive than the model I owned. Dina had Morgan in previous years and I wasn't too thrilled to be in charge of the (as she claimed) disrespectful blonde monster sent from hell to ruin her life.

"We don't have wifi, we hardly have service," I tell her "And you aren't even supposed to have your phone here but you can't do anything on it anyways so it doesn't matter."

"Do you have a boyfriend?" Leah chimes in, she's sitting on the ground with Oliver and slowly but surely braiding her friend's hair.

"Not at the moment, no."

"So are you a lesbian?" Olive follows up for her friend.

"Um," I press my lips together, my mind failing me, "I think we're good on questions, who wants a camp tour?" No one says or does anything, they just kind of look around awkwardly "That's too bad, you're getting one."

Everyone gathered around the crackling fire pit on splintered wooden benches. The warm glow of the campfire flickered in the midst of a cool summer night, casting dancing shadows on the faces of worn-out campers who were ready for bed. 

Tommy had given his speech to sike up the kids for the rest of the summer, he made sleeping in the woods sound like a lot of fun. "We're giving you tonight to settle in but I promise that starting tomorrow we are hitting the ground running, activities from morning until dark, this will be a summer to remember," He smiles brightly "I don't wanna babble too long so I'm gonna give the attention to Miles who is going to kick off our campfire by playing the guitar for us."

Miles sat directly across from me in the first row of benches so I could only see him through the orange flames of the fire. "This is an original song I wrote, so far it's untitled but I'm open to ideas," He made himself comfortable with the guitar, readjusting it to sit in his lap properly. 

"What do you wanna bet it's about?" Ellie whispers into my ear from beside me. Since the day cooled into the night, she's thrown on a gray hoodie to keep herself warm. You would be an idiot to ignore how pretty she looks illuminated by nothing more than stray stars in the sky and a campfire.

"I'll put five bucks on sex,"

"Sex?" She raises her eyebrows "I don't think he's stupid enough to sing a song about sex in front of kids, I'm gonna say it's about being a tortured artist."

"It could easily be both," I look down and see Ellie's muddied converse "We break even if he does both." The fire roared before us like our own miniature hell.

Miles clears his throat and lets his curly blonde locks fall over his forehead. Beginning to strum, he made that weird face he makes every time he plays guitar, where he scrunched his eyebrows together "Baby, maybe, I just wanna do you, do you, do you wanna do me? do me underneath the moonlight," He's too lost in his song to see the horror on every counsellor's face "Baby, baby, maybe I will steal you, steal you, just so I can feel you, feel you, maybe that would heal you."

I cover my mouth with my hand to stop me from cackling. The older kids were on the verge of laughing themselves while the younger kids seemed utterly confused. "Holy shit," I mutter so quietly that my words got blown away with the wind.

Ellie didn't try to stop her laughter, just hide it, she buried her head into the crook of my neck so no one could see how red her face was. She was far better off than Dina who was laughing so hard that she was clutching her stomach and nearly falling over, Miles seemed to be oblivious to all of this. In Dina’s defence, it was difficult not to laugh at a song so wildly inappropriate and bad in general.

Miles had far from the best voice, he just sounded like every other white guy who sang Wonderwall at a girl, not to her but at her "Sticky thighs are you wild now or just a memory? I heard your broken cries and looked into your eyes under the moonlight, so do you wanna do me, do me, so I can heal you, heal you, from the inside-

He stops abruptly when Joel takes the guitar away from him "How about Sawyer tells us the camp legend instead."

Those who knew who Sawyer was looked towards him, Miles was trying helplessly to get his guitar back from Joel who was holding it just slightly out of reach. "It's been a while since I've told this so forgive me if-

"No one cares, just tell it," Ashlynn said. She was one of the counsellors who clearly didn't want to be there, which meant all of the campers thought her to be the coolest; in all fairness, she was cool. Ashlynn had bleach blonde shaggy hair, so light that it almost looked white. Her eyeliner was always a little smudged and she was only there to keep the kids alive, she tended to be the first to opt out of group activities and go to bed early.

"Okay well, it starts way back in the sixteen-hundreds, on these very grounds there was a small village," Sawyer put on his best storytelling voice which was just him lowering his voice an octave. "They lived in peace for decades, and throughout all of those decades there was a woman named Abigail who never seemed to age, while all of her friends and family developed wrinkles, their hair turned gray, and their bodies sagged, Abigail still looked nineteen even at her alleged age of sixty-seven." 

The new campers seemed enraptured but returning kids and counsellors seemed bored out of their minds, I even spotted one boy who's been attending this camp longer than I have, mouthing the words of Sawyers tale.

"They accused her of witchcraft and she was shortly exiled far up the hill into what we now call the Honey House. They left her with nothing more than a hunting knife, a canteen of water, the clothes on her back, and a small portion of seeds. The villages burned down her home in town along with everything inside it. If you think that is the end-

"Think again!" Dina cut in, getting up from her spot and squeezing herself beside Sawyer. "With Abigail gone the villagers thought they would be safe but just days after Abigail was exiled, anomalies began to appear-

Sawyer chimed back in "At first they were harmless, pixies, gnomes, jackalopes, nyiads by the rivers and dryads in the trees. The creatures appearing slowly began to appear more and more dangerous and at last, the snatchers arrived-

"Like a muscular and tall emaciated human. The most terrifying creatures to ever be seen, they roamed just outside of the village and lured children in, they slurped the flesh right off of the children's bodies like prey and wore the clothes of their last victim. They have no lips just a bloody gash and when they don't eat, the gash begins to reseal, leaving nothing on their gray faces but large and pale sunken eyes the size of my fist!" Dina clenched her hand into a fist and held it up for everyone to see.

"Their fingers are long and rotted, long curls of claws on each of their ten spindly fingers. The males are devoid of all hair and the females hardly have hair at all, just small plugs of greasy and matted strands. Their teeth are sharper than fangs and are rotten black and yellow, a foul odour escaping each time they open their disgusting gashes of a mouth. Though the snatchers were the most feared among villagers, they were also being terrorized by other creatures, such as pine devils who slithered from the forests at night and attacked families. There was ghouls who would take on the form of the last corpse they devoured and of course, the wampus which was half-man and half-cat, would stalk villagers.”

"Like a furry?" One of the boys from Jesse's cabin peeped.

"No," Sawyer exasperated "Like a scary and intimidating cat-man."

"So does it look more like the Cat in the Hat or like Cats the Musical?"

"It doesn't look like either, it's a terrifying man that is covered in fur and looks like a cat but is also a man."

"So Cats the Musical?"

Dina ignored the comment and continued with the story "After a year the village population had been cut in half and everyone thought it to be the witch, they figured that Abigail had cursed them for exiling her so they lit up their torches at sunset and marched up the hill to the Honey House. Abigail pleaded with them and explained that she hadn't cursed them but during her residency in the village she had warded off each evil spirit and creature with her witchcraft but she no longer could protect the village after they burned her home down and all her supplies inside of it."

After muttering to Jesse to get his cabin in order, Sawyer picked up when Dina left off "The villagers begged for her forgiveness and apologised for their cruel acts in the hope that Abigail would rid them of the monsters, Abigail said she would but in return they grant her return to the village, so the townfolk agree-

"With all her supplies to ward off the creatures gone, Abigail resorts to a blood ritual. She tells the townfolk that they must complete the ritual before sundown. She creates five pentagrams made of sticks and twine. Abigail races around the village to place the pentagrams and avoid the creatures while she does so, the villagers ward the monsters away from her with their torches. At each pentagram, Abigail slices her palm open and squeezes her fist to drip blood onto each one, then she ignites the pentagram with a torch and utters an incantation. She slashes her thighs and calves to get enough blood and in a last-ditch effort, she cuts her wrists open to finalize the ritual," Only the younger kids had been paying any attention to the story, they seemed downright terrified, clinging to one another but trying to play it cool.

"I fail to see how this is any less inappropriate than Miles's song," Cat mutters with one girl huddled into her, her arm slung over the little girl and rubbing her back to soothe her.

"Once she had completed the ritual, Abigail said that no creatures should return to the village. She is bleeding out in the middle of the town square but the town doctor only watches her, and refuses to help so she begs the appointed mayor to bury her beside her mother, he answers by saying 'The graveyard is sacred and we will not let it be tainted by filthy witch blood' in her final breath she plunged for the mayor and drags her bloody palms down his face, cursing him. Once she is no longer breathing her body begins to rapidly age into the appearance of the sixty-eight-year-old woman she was supposed to be. The townsfolk cut Abigail's body into five parts, two legs, two arms, and the torso with the head still attached and buried her on the border of the village."

Everyone sat in silence "Is that the end?" someone asked, though they were in the back row of benches and I couldn't see who it was.

"Yup," I answer "Abigail gets renamed as 'the girl that time forgot' in folklore and she never gets revenge on the townsfolk for betraying her after she laid down her life for them." I had never liked the legend. Young boys thought it was cool and gory and fifteen-year-old girls thought it was poetic and tragic but I hated it to death. Other camps have fun light-hearted legends about playful forest spirits or secret villages of fairies deep in the woods but we got an edgy story about a woman who just wanted to be loved.

"I wish she let the snatchers eat them all," Ellie said the same thing that she says every year, she wasn't wrong, that's how I wished it ended too. 

"Just wait until one eats you," I joke.

"Nah, I'd kick it's ass."

"I'm sure you would but right now you owe be five bucks.”

"No, we didn't pick this legend, it's true," I heard Jesse's voice cutting through the conversations of the crowd.

"Bullshit," Mordecai said, he was one of those kids who thought it was cool and edgy to be an asshole and act older than he was. He despised summer camp but every summer his parents forced him back much to our dismay.

"It's not," Bowie jumped in "The snatchers come back to visit us sometimes." 

"Yeah? I thought Abigail banished them with blood magic."

"The spell is growing weaker with time, it's slowly wearing out and there hasn't been a witch to revive it," Jesse was a good storyteller, he should've been the one to deliver the camp legend. He found a way to enrapture people with his words.

That's when I decided to call it a night for my girls, the longer you stayed at the campfire, the more outlandish stories the guys would tell and I learned my lesson last year that it is very easy to give ten-year-olds nightmares. "Whitetail deer, we're heading out," I stand up.

A few of the girls had groans and complaints while others seemed happy to leave. Ellie looked up at me from where I stood and did the same "Grizzlies, we're leaving too,"

"You're just saying that because you wanna hit it, Williams," Dean said between obviously fake coughs into his fist, causing Ashlynn to bite back a smile and Miles to playfully punch him on the arm. 

"Dean," Tommy gave him a stern look and said nothing else, Dean took the hint and ceased his laughter.

"Headcount," I say looking at the girls in front of me "Chloe, Leslie, Kim, Leah, Tamar, Morgan, Valentina, and Olive." Each of them stands in a close-huddled bundle "Alright, don't go off trail."

The walk back from the campfire was gorgeous during the day and borderline mortifying at night. Since the foliage was so thick you could hardly see the sky if you looked up and at night the little piece of clearing that was the trail was pitch black, we were guided by nothing more than mine and Ellie's flashlights.

The two of us had been trailing behind the girls in silence to keep an eye on everyone until Ellie felt the urge to speak up "Uh, by the way, that thing that Dean said about-

"I don't care."

"You don't?"

"Yeah he's a dick and his cabin looks like a wooden prison cell." 

"It does," She furrows her eyebrows in thought "It’s like he's conditioning his campers for war."

I didn't notice when I did this, it must've been a subconscious thing but I mindlessly reached for Ellie's hand to hold. I used my free hand to keep the flashlight focused on the trail and campers ahead of us. "Sawyer has to walk back to the bunkhouses across the camp with those little monsters."

"Payback for all of the pranks he's pulled with Bowie," Ellie mutters. Sawyer took pride in initiating the prank wars every single summer the same way I strove to win the camp cup. His pranks weren't also lighthearted and fun, he and Bowie organized this prank where Sawyer put a bag over Tyson's head and dragged him to the administration office in the middle of the night and then pretended to shoot Bowie dead in front of him. Tyson quit the next morning and Sawyer got a hefty write-up.

"So are you still talking to Cat?" I ask.

"Nah, that was never gonna work out."

"Because she's too hot for you?” I joke.

"What? No," She whipped her head to look at me "Why? You wanna get with her or something, you have my blessing."

"I'm good, I'm a little preoccupied at the moment."

"Who with?" Her voice dripped with accusation. Ellie's hand clenching just the slightest bit tighter on mine.

"Work? You should know that I don't date at camp, to think that I thought you knew me," I tease her.

"What about that summer with Chandler?"

"That doesn't count," My smile drops and I fight the urge to shiver at the memories. Before I was a counsellor at Honey Hills, I was a camper and I happened to have my first kiss at age thirteen with a boy named Chandler, our braces got stuck together.

"Everyone saw, so it counts," I can't quite make out Ellie's face in the dark but I can hear the smile in her voice "Remember how Joel had to pull out the pliers."

"You need to stop before I sacrifice you to the Honey Hills Snatchers," I look ahead on the trail and I could've sworn my heart stopped "Stop!" I yell and all of the girls look back at me, I drop Ellie's hand "Where is Olive?"

All of the campers look at each other for answers, and then Leah opens her mouth "She saw a rock that was shaped like a heart and when off trail to get it."

"Well I'm not seeing a heart-shaped rock or Olive but it's super safe in these woods so no need to panic." 

"No one's panicking," One of the girls in Ellie's cabin says, she was the same one who called me weird during arrival.

I run one hand down my face in exasperation, using the other to keep the flashlight trained on the girls "Everyone, stay here with Ellie, I'm going to be right back," I look at Leah "How far back did she go off trail?"

She shrugs "How am I supposed to know? I don't have a tape measure."

"Sweet," I answer before marching straight into the pitch-black woods. It was almost scarier to be in the dark with a flashlight instead of no light source, it felt like I had been in a video game or horror movie and I was about to get my throat slashed by a maniac in a mask. 

Every rustle of leaves or snap of twigs made me feel uneasy. I knew the woods were safe like I had told the girls but that didn't stop irrational fear from bringing up stories of cryptids and cuts from murder podcasts. If you ever played that shitty Slenderman game, you'd know exactly what I'm looking at; not Slenderman himself, just an eery forest.

I called out for Olive, my imagination running wild with thoughts of unseen dangers lurking in the shadows. The forest seemed to come alive around me, its inhabitants whispering secrets that only the night could hear.

"Olive?" My voice echoes into the night, I did what I could to ignore whatever fear I was feeling. I had walked through these woods a million times, I knew every pathway better than I knew the city. This forest was like home to me, it didn't feel right to be so on edge.

I couldn't help but jump when something loud snapped beneath my sneaker, instinctively I brought my flashlight down to look at it, moving my foot out of the way. It had been a pentagram made out of sticks, wow really funny, it might've scared me if Ashlynn and Bowie hadn't made dozens of them and laid them around camp last summer to scare the shit out of kids. It had broken in half beneath my weight.

There was a possibility that I was going crazy in the five minutes I was alone in the woods because I thought I heard a rustle but the beam of my flashlight revealed nothing but the dense thicket of trees and the inky blackness beyond.

Something charged behind me, wrapping its skinny arms around my torse and I couldn't help but flinch. "Olive," I turned my head and brought the flashlight to shine down on her "Don't run off in the dark ever again, you scared the shit out of me."

"I'm really sorry, I won't do it again," She said. I tried to pry her off me but she was hanging on like a Koala, eventually, I got her to settle for just holding my hand. "It was stupid."

"Don't beat yourself up too much, you're ginger and that's punishment enough," I was hastily yanking her along so we could get back on the trail and shortly back into the comfort of the cabin "Did you get your rock at least?"

"Yeah," She held her palm out, the rock was an oval with the littlest indent in the middle, but I let her act like it was shaped like a heart. 

"How'd you get so far out?"

"I grabbed the rock and then I saw a cat and I followed it."

Cat? "You must've seen Buckley, he's friendly," I tell her. Buckley was the resident dog at camp, he was probably older than me and wandered around before settling at Tommy and Maria's cabin for the night.

A moment after I dragged the little girl along we broke past the tree line and into the clearing of the trail. I looked around and spotted Ellie and the girls a good 40 yards or so behind. Clutching Olive's tiny hand in mine I walked towards them, flicking my flashlight on and off to catch their attention.

"Finally wrangled her," I let out an almost nervous laugh.

"You said not to go off trail," Tamar wrinkled her nose.

"Yes, Tamar, I know."

I don't know how late into the night it was when I was awoken by every girl in my cabin squabbling with one another. I got up and turned on the flashlight that I kept on my dingy bedside table "What's going on girls?"

"The snatcher is coming to get us!" Leslie cried, and I mean cried. Her face was red and puffy, her eyes were so glassy that they reflected any and all light, hot tears streaming down her round face.

That's when my annoyance turned to concern. Oh god, I was going to kick Sawyer and Dina's asses tomorrow morning and Joel for even suggesting the camp legend even though it made my campers too afraid to sleep year after year. "No, snatchers aren't real, they were made up in the sixteen hundreds to keep kids away from the forest."

"We heard it!" Morgan chimed in.

"Guys it's just the placebo effect, you've convinced yourself that it's real-

I froze when I heard a long scratch down the door and a wet guttural growl. It was low and deep, shaking me to my very core. Whoever was on the other side began to scratch harshly on the door, jiggling the locked door handle. When the handle didn't budge it began to slam itself on the door, each thump louder than the last. It was still groaning and grumbling in a harsh, awful voice.

The girls screamed, Olive and Leah, were hugging each other tightly, clenching their eyes shut. Valentina had a bottom bunk and slipped beneath the bed, covering her eyes with her hands. Leslie (like I had mentioned) was a blubbering mess, crying and hyperventilating too hard to get any words out. It looked like Morgan was trying to call someone on her phone and Tamar had her knees tucked to her chest, hugging herself. Both Kim and Chloe threw their blankets over top of them, pretending to disappear.

The voice sounded again except this time I realized it wasn't just a growl, it was a word "Girrrrllllls." Then it began to scratch the door all over again. When I tell you this voice was the most unsettling thing I've ever heard, I mean it. It was wet and phlegmy whilst being course and grumbly. From the very beginning, I had known it was a prank.

I marched towards the door flicking on the light in the cabin on and dropping my flashlight, before hammering my fists on the door "Fuck off!" I kicked the door, the sound stopped for just a moment before it slammed itself against the door.

Each thud against the sturdy wooden door reverberated through the night like a thunderclap. Whoever was sent to scare us was sure doing a good job. Their breathing was low and heavy almost as loud as the banging of the door itself. "Don't open the door," Leslie heaved out between sobs.

The girls huddled together in terror, their breaths hitching in fear as they strained to discern the source of the horrifying sounds "Girrllllllssss," It grumbled again "GIRRRLLSSSSCOMMOUT," I could see the door moving with the force of whoever was deeply committed to this role. The growling slowly morphed into a screech or maybe it was something more like a hiss.

I was almost at my breaking point, the first day of camp and I already had to deal with these bullshit pranks. I decided to slam my body against the door, matching whoever was on the other side "Go back to your cabin, you piece of shit!" I kept banging my fist and slamming my palms against the door until I heard them scuttle away. 

Reaching for a baseball out of Valentina's open duffle bag, I swung the door open and saw the slender figure of what I assumed to be a teenage boy running to the pasture "Tell Sawyer to eat shit!" I yelled before throwing the ball at the figure, it hit them but it didn't do much, they just stumbled for a split second before disappearing into darkness. 

"What the fuck is that noise?" Dina shouted from her cabin, I could tell I had woken her up from a nice sleep from the way her puffy eyes were squinting in my direction. A few girls poked their heads outside from the doorframe behind Dina.

"What happened?" Now Priya was walking towards my porch. Her long black hair was braided perfectly and she had her silk sleepmask pulled onto her forehead. She still looked put together in a hoodie and bunny pyjama pants.

"Can you guys shut the fuck up?" Ellie opened her door and looked me up and down.

"Be quiet!" Abby shouted from an open window in her cabin. By this point, I was sure everyone in the girl's bunk houses was wide awake and I would be getting a stern talking to by either, Tommy, Joel, or Maria, honestly, I didn't know which was worse. 

Confusion quickly grew on Ellie's face, she lowered her voice "What's going on?"

All eyes were on me for answers but I didn't have any. Despite convincing myself it was a prank, that didn't stop my hands from shaking. "It was one of the boys playing a prank, don't worry about it, he's long gone by now."

"Fucking Sawyer," Dina murmured walking back into her cabin and slamming the door behind her. 

"Are you girls okay in there?" Priya asked, looking at the mortified girls in my cabin, concern etched across her bronze face. "It was a dumb joke, you're all okay now." 

Priya had invited herself into my cabin to offer her solace to the probably traumatized little girls, while she was doing so, I pressed myself flat against the front of the cabin, between mine and Ellie's doors, trying to process how I was going to find a way to make these girls unafraid.

"They do that prank every year and it's almost crazy how it's literally never been funny," I tell Ellie while I stare straight ahead at the pasture they faded away into.

"I wouldn't worry about it," Ellie stands next to me, leaning against the wall "We'll get them back tenfold."

"Those girls are all gonna wanna call their parents and I'm so fucked," I drag my hands down my face. I didn't want to see the look on Joel's face when I tell him about this. There's gonna be sixteen parents who will spam call the camp and verbally harass me over the phone, this wasn't my first rodeo. Sure the prank was shitty but I guarantee no one is leaving this summer with newfound trauma to tell their therapist in a decade. 

"Relax, he's just gonna chew out the boys for pulling this shit again."

I looked at her for a moment, the silence hung between us like birds on a wire before I lunged in for a hug. She was a little taken aback but didn't seem to mind "I just need a hug, don't make it weird."

"Okay, wasn't planning on it," She teased. I took a deep breath in and caught the scent of firewood, petrichor, and axe body spray, an Ellie classic.

“I'm really glad I have you as a friend," I mutter into her shoulder, so quietly that I wasn't even sure she heard me. I let us stay like that for longer than I probably should've before breaking away "Okay, I gotta be a grown-up and deal with this instead of letting Priya do recon."

She nodded pressing her lips together in the same awkward way the socially inept guys from high school did "See you for breakfast?"

"For sure," I smile and walk back into my cabin to see Priya sitting next to Chloe with one soothing hand rubbing her back. "Thanks, Priya, I'll take it from here, you outta get back to your girls."

Priya had this maternal way about her, I wasn't sure what it was but she sure had the ability to nurture. She started at camp last year and I was happy to see her return. She gave her farewells to all of the girls who had only met her minutes ago and were already attached.

"Can I be in her cabin?" Kim asked, she had finally calmed down.

"No, you're in my cabin where we have fun like this every night!" I forced a smile on my face trying to get the girls back into a good mood.

"This isn't fun at all," Tamar, said, bluntly may I add.

"Yeah, this sucks," Morgan added on.

"Guys, listen," I began "I'm super sorry this happened, I need all of you to know that it's just a really bad prank, it happens every year to different cabins. Boy being boys- sorry I shouldn't say that because you guys are young and I know their gender shouldn't excuse their bad behaviour but what I'm trying to say is guys are assholes."

"Yeah, they're assholes!" Olive repeated.

"Maybe don't shout that," I pointed at her "But they are and if you want I will storm down to their cabins right now and yell at them until they cry."

The cabin began to erupt in shouts of no, little girls with wide eyes, frantically shaking their heads. "Please don't leave us alone," Leah pleaded. 

"Okay, I won't, I'll yell at them in the morning. Do you guys want me to leave the lights on?" Everyone answered with a 'yes' to my question.

"Where are you going?" Valentina asked me, peeking out from beneath her thick layers of blankets.

"To my bed?”

"That's too far away from us."

I let out a deep breath "Alright, I'll just bring my sleeping bag onto the floor and I will sleep in the middle, okay?"  Nothing better than sleeping on the hardwood floor in the middle of four bunkbeds and eight ten-year-old girls.

Surrounded by the shallow breathing of girls far too startled to sleep, I decided that tomorrow I would wake up dressed in adventure, straddling a star. Every day that follows I will guide these girls to the moon and back.

A/N: Hi y’all, I’ve been gone a hot minute because of medical issues and whenever I have time to write, I’m too tired to. Anyways, we’re back and better. I know I should probably finish my other series but I’ve had this one drafted for a while and since I’m super sick and basically confined to my house for the next week I’m hoping to get this series done. Thanks for reading!

@readbydayana

[moonlightazriel]

Secret /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Azriel it’s secretly dating someone, not even his family is aware, until they meet her on unfortunate circumstances.

Warnings: Mentions of blood and torture

Word Count: 1,5K

Notes: This have been on my drafts for a while, for so long that it’s probably covered in dust, allergic people, be aware ahahahahahahah

Main Masterlist

His calloused hands rubbed her back, squeezing the skin and trying to undo the knots in the muscles, she snored, her eyes closed as Azriel worked his magic. The soft sounds of rain and the faint smell of mint from the oil he was using for the massage relaxing her brain.

He looked down, seeing her deep asleep, he removed his hands and covered her naked back with the blankets, kissing her forehead and leaving to go wash his hands. As he laid down with her, she snuggled closer to him, he buried his nose in her hair, inhaling the scent, it smelled like fresh strawberries and he loved that.

He was dating Y/N for over a year, and with all the problems with Koschei, he was afraid to make the relationship public, afraid she would get harmed, even though she could perfectly protect herself, he wouldn’t risk it, it would wreck him if she was suddenly put in danger because of him. So the relationship was a secret, even for his family.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The sunlight peeked from behind the thin curtains, he whispered a good morning, tapping her side of the bed just to find it empty, he immediately got up, exiting the bedroom just to find her standing in the doorway, a tray in her hands, filled with pastries and coffee, for him.

“I wanted to return the favor, my back feels amazing. So I made you breakfast.” She smiled at him, the smile that could light up the whole world and his heart melted in his chest, she signed for him to move back to bed and he did, she placed the tray on his lap and sat by his side so they could eat.

“No one ever served me breakfast in bed before.” She looked even more happy. “Thank you baby.”

“Glad to be the first then. I wanted to do it before but it’s rare when I have the time to actually enjoy mornings.” She sighed, sipping on her coffee.

“Yeah, must be tough, being the best healer in Prythian.” She smiled once more. “But please, don’t tell Madja that.”

“It’s not like I have the time to brag, we’ve been working a lot lately, with all that is happening, we barely have time to talk.”

“I promise to you that once we deal with Koschei, we’ll go to the summer court and have a two week vacation.” She giggled.

“Deal! I always wanted to see Adriata anyways.” They finished breakfast and she got herself ready for work, while Rhysand called him, demanding to see him straight away.

“I have to go. Have a good day honey, I love you.” He said, his lips wrapped up hers, his hands squeezed her waist and he kissed her deeply. She looked a little dizzy when they parted ways.

“I love you too, Az.” And with that, he was gone.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Four days, usually when Azriel disappeared like this, it meant he was out on a mission, but this time something felt off, she tapped her feet on the ground, unable to focus on the list in front of her. The house was silent, and she frustratedly tossed the receipts back on the table, she hated doing the administrative part, her thing was to heal people, to get into action, that was what she was made for, what her magic was made for.

She decided to take a hot shower and try to sleep, her chest feeling heavy, making it a little hard to breathe. He would always leave a note when he went on longer missions, but this time, there was nothing for her. She closed her eyes, noticing how her body slightly shivered in fear.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

A loud banging on the door woke her up, she rushed to attend, it was the middle of the night and one of Madja’s apprentice was on the other side, by the looks on his face he was also yanked out of the bed out of nowhere.

“Madja needs you, it’s the shadowsinger.” The male’s voice became a distant noise as the last word left his lips. She ran to the bedroom again, putting on her pants and her boots, barely locking the door as she winnowed to the Healers Hall.

She followed the apprentice, getting to a private room, Madja was working on the barely recognizable Azriel, he was covered in blood and his face was swollen, he had a huge slit in his chest, and by the smell of poison, she understood why he wasn’t healing. She swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to contain her shaking hands as she approached the table.

“What happened?” Madja looked up, one of the healers was cleaning him and Madja was cutting his clothes with a scissor.

“I sent him on a mission, he was captured by Koschei, I guess he wanted to send us a message.” Rhysand, the High Lord, sounded desperate from the corner of the room, Y/N quickly looked at him, with the General by his side, they looked back at her and Cassian raised an eyebrow, sharing a look with Rhysand. She didn’t have time for that.

Assessing the damages, she almost sobbed, her hands shaking uncontrollably as she looked at the infected skin around the open wound.

“We have to keep him stable until the poison comes out of his system.” One healer said, and Y/N nodded, cleaning and closing the slit was the first thing to do. She ordered around for water and a cloth, she rubbed the spot multiple times, until the skin was pink and perfectly clean.

Madja gave him another liquid, forcing it down his throat, Y/N new it was to relief the pain and help with the swelling on his face. Azriel was in a deep slumber, his breath was really weak. Y/N managed to prepare the needle for the stitches, her hands covered in his blood also, she started to patch him up, gently, trying her best to control her hands and the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.

“His heart rate is dropping quickly.” The healer that stood by his side monitoring him alerted, and Y/N’s head snapped up as she finished the last stitch. The High Lord stepped forward ready to use his magic as he could to prevent his brother from dying.

“Bring me the adrenaline, NOW.” Madja demanded and someone ran outside to go get it, while Y/N used her powers to try and keep him steady, but as the seconds went by, his heart kept beating less and less until she could feel nothing.

“No. No, Azriel don’t.” She sobbed, her eyes wide as she looked at his pale face and unmoving chest. She felt it, the spark in the tips of her fingers, the electricity that slept within herself suddenly awake.

“Everyone step away.” Madja warned as Y/N focused that energy on her palms.

“You can’t DIE.” She screamed, planting her hands with her palms flat on his chest, the electricity rushed from her body in a spark of blue and jolted his body up. “C’mon Az, you have to take me to Adriata, remember?” She spoke, pulling her hands up and smashing his chest again, his body jolted but his heart still didn’t react. “You have to take me to have dinner with your family dammit.” She concentrated all that energy on her palms, the buzzing sound of electricity was the only thing in the room as everyone held their breaths while they watched. “You have to go back cuz I love you more than anything.” She pressed her palms on his chest, sending the energy until she heard his heart beating and Azriel jolted awake.

He peaked at her from a barely open eye, while she fell to his chest sobbing, his hand weakly moved through her hair.

“My body feels tingly.” He managed to say and she lifted her head, the tears hadn’t stopped but she was smiling, giggling as she crashed her lips against his, he kissed her back, and she felt the relief wash over her and relieve the weight on her chest.

“I told you this was Azriel’s favorite shirt.” The general spoke as him and Rhysand approached them, they had tears in their eyes as they watched Azriel.

“How are you feeling Az?” Rhys asked.

“Like shit, but at least I’m alive.” He tried to joke but no one laughed, the idea of him gone wasn’t something to joke around.

“I can’t even start to thank you.” Rhys looked at her. “All of you.” He turned to the rest of the healers. “Thank you so much for keeping my brother alive.”

“I did this based totally on selfish reasons but you’re welcome.” Rhysand and Cassian laughed.

“What can I do for you?” Rhys asked.

“You can invite me over for dinner. It’s been a year and Azriel hasn't taken me to a single one.” The shadowsinger lazily smiled, his face already looked better, meaning the effects of the poison were already vanishing.

“A year?” Cassian asked in disbelief.

“I just had to be sure she was the love of my life before I introduced her to that bunch of crazy people.” Azriel spoke, his voice cracking a little.

“Are you sure now?” Y/N shyly asked.

“More than ever.” He replied.

[zepskies]

Never Say Goodbye - Part 1

Pairing: Dean W. x Female Reader

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (Rated M for eventual scenes – 18+)

Word Count: 2,000 Warnings: Some angst

Part 1: Proximity

You’ve grown up watching your parents. At fourteen, you already understood how rare their relationship was—high school sweethearts, married for sixteen years, and certified soulmates.

Apparently it was even more rare to find your soulmate so early in life, but as Mom said, Sometimes the universe helps you out.

But you just started high school, and after surveying the pool of guys you have to work with, you really hope that “universe” stuff is just wishful thinking.

Because just this morning, Danny Schmitt got his hand stuck in the automatic stapler during Math class. Meanwhile, his friends were collecting bets on how many stitches he was going to need once they finally pried his fingers out.

Dad would call those guys dumbasses. You were inclined to agree.

You looked away from the scene (there was a lot of blood, and now your teacher was trying to free Danny with the only tool in the utility closet: a large hammer). But you couldn’t focus on your busy work like your teacher instructed either.

Sometimes, you still found it hard to believe your parents had met in high school. They had such an easy way between them, and not just because they could hear one another’s thoughts.

Mom was a kindergarten teacher, patient, kind, and encouraging. She came from a family of professors and school administrators, who frankly thought she could’ve done more with her life than “wipe five year olds’ noses.” Last Thanksgiving, she smiled and told Great Aunt Janet, “At least my five year olds can wipe their own asses.”

Smirking, Dad had followed up with, “How’s the incontinence, Jan? Ain’t lettin’ up at all?”     

Dad was a cop, though he wasn’t as strict as he could've been. Or as dumb as cops seemed to be in the movies.

No, your dad could be stern, but he was always fair, even if you…didn’t really hang out with him much. Mom was basically your best friend, while Dad was often too busy to know what was going on in your life.

Really, you just couldn’t see what your parents had in common, other than the dusty, midwestern town where they’d grown up. (Speaking of which, you shivered and zipped your coat higher up on your neck. Even indoors, winter in South Dakota was nothing to sneeze at.)

But your parents would share a look sometimes. Your mom would smile, and your dad’s mouth would quirk up at the corner, his eyes softening in a way they only did for her. And then you’d remember that they had their own world that you couldn’t really understand just yet.

“All right,” your teacher said. He wiped sweat from his brow while Danny’s friends carried him off to the nurse’s office. The stapler was in pieces on the floor, but poor Danny still had two huge staples in his index and ring fingers. “I think we’re done for the day. Just finish workbook pages for chapter three and we’ll cover it tomorrow.”

Yes! Math was not your strongest subject, but even you could finish four more square root problems. The teacher’s desk phone rang while you gathered your backpack and books. You were about to leave the classroom when your teacher called you back. You didn’t like the somber look on his face.

“You need to get to the principal’s office,” he said. “Your dad is there waiting for you.”

You didn’t know it then, but today was the day your childhood died—after Dad sat you down and told you what happened to your mom.

Winter in South Dakota was harsh. It could even be dangerous, especially on icy roads shared with grocery truck haulers.

They buried Mom in the same cemetery as your grandparents and your aunt (not Janet, by the way. You didn’t really remember your Aunt Karen, but your dad always avoided talking about his sister). The cemetery was small, but you guessed that made sense for a smallish town like Sioux Falls.

You stayed there until everyone else who loved your mom was gone, and it was just you and your dad left.

You didn’t bother to wipe your tears—not until your dad set a hand on your shoulder. You tried to wipe them away quickly, even though you didn’t really know why you didn’t want him to see you crying. He just gave you this look. In his eyes, you could see every fathom of his heartbreak. In a way, it told you everything you needed to know about your dad.

So you leaned into his side, and he held you close while the icy winds whipped at both of you.

Snow crunched beneath someone’s feet, and you turned to see a man walking down the row of headstones. He looked kind of familiar…

He had a thick beard and wore a baseball cap, but he took it off once he got close enough to pay his respects—first to Mom…then to Aunt Karen.

“Jack,” he greeted with a nod of respect.

You looked up at your dad, and the free emotions he’d been wearing clammed up behind a more familiar stern expression.

“Bobby,” he said, nodding back. Realization finally dawned on you. Oh, Uncle Bobby?

You hadn’t seen your uncle since you were…ten? Probably since Aunt Karen’s funeral.

“I’m real sorry about Christine,” Uncle Bobby said. He sounded a bit gruff, but his eyes were kind when they met yours sympathetically. “About your mom.”

Another tear fell down your cheek, but you nodded and wiped it away, sniffling.

“Thank you,” your dad said eventually. There was a brief, but awkward pause. Then Bobby nodded to himself and walked away, setting that faded blue baseball cap back on his head. You watched him go curiously.

“You remember your uncle,” Dad said. He didn’t seem happy about it.

“Yeah,” you replied. “Why didn’t he stay?”

He was family, after all.

Dad shook his head. There was a wry downturn to his lips. “He’s got a junk heap to look after.”

You frowned in confusion. But he didn’t explain what he meant. He just steered you back toward the car to go home.

Just as you both crossed under the iron arch to leave the cemetery, Dad reached into his pocket and gave you something. Your mom’s wedding ring.

“You can wear it if you want,” he said. “Or just keep it safe. Either way, just remember…she’s still with you. And I’m always gonna watch over you.”

The thought made you feel the slightest bit better, and also worse. Still, you took the ring and held it between your fingers. It was simple sterling silver, but beautiful all the same.

You got into his pick-up truck and he started the drive home. Just as you turned the corner, you hit a red light. You stared out the window as snow started a light fall, flurrying down to the damp pavement. Soon the ground would be icy and wet, and that reminded you of grocery trucks. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you were sick of it. Sick of crying.

It actually annoyed you…or…did it?

A feeling fluttered in your chest. It felt like anxiety and irritation all wrapped up into one. And another feeling, this time attached to a thought. It felt hot in your throat, and a lot like—

It’s not fair!

The thought startled you. Because somehow (and you didn’t know why), it didn’t feel like you were the one that thought it.   

Finally, the street light turned green. It flashed in the corner of your eyes, and then you noticed a sleek, black car coming in the opposite direction. You watched it pass by for a moment, until your dad distracted you with a question.

“Are you hungry?” he asked. You blinked, trying to register what he said while you shook off the weird things you were feeling. Once your brain caught up to your mouth, you were finally able to answer.

“Not really.”

“Come on. I’ll get us a burger.”

You shrugged, but for once you really weren’t hungry.

“Dad, come on,” Dean said in frustration. On one hand, he didn’t want to argue with his dad.

On the other hand, this really wasn’t fair!

He was seventeen already. He’d gone on a handful of hunts with John before, so why not this one?

“Too dangerous,” John said. He looked over at Dean from the Impala’s driver’s seat. His tone boded no further argument. “Djinn are tricky. Even seasoned hunters have trouble with ‘em.”

Dean frowned. “I’m ready, Dad.”

“Do we have to go to Bobby’s house?” Sam piped up from the back seat. At thirteen, he was getting more and more lippy.

“Cheaper than a motel.” John smiled, then glanced at his younger son through the rear-view mirror. “Besides, why not Bobby’s?”

Sam sighed. “His heater doesn’t always work.”  

“Well, I’ll help him take a look before I go,” John replied. Dean stared at the side of his dad’s face for a while, but he knew a lost argument when he saw one.

…Still, he couldn’t help but try.

“Dad,” Dean pressed.

John’s gaze stayed on the road. “Not this time, son. You and Sam’ll be okay at Bobby’s.”

Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Yeah, bored at Bobby’s. But he knew it was better than being left at a crusty motel room. He was annoyed, but he could deal with it.

Until something else began to creep up in his chest. Something he hadn’t felt since…since his mom died.

It was this ball of lead in his chest, weighing him down and constricting his throat. It felt a lot like…like fear, and sadness. And finally confusion. He was confused?

Maybe.

Sad? Afraid? Not really, no. At least, he didn’t think so. He hadn’t thought about his mom like that in a while…

So what the hell?

Those sensations only lasted for a moment—the time it took them to finally cross the street at the red light and pass a pick-up truck going the opposite way.

But that moment seemed to drag on for minutes. Now he really was confused.

He sat still, hesitating, until the feeling eventually passed.

“Hey, Dean, where’s the Batman comic?” Sam leaned up by his ear to ask.

Dean almost flinched. He played it off though, and turned to look back at his brother.

“It’s in my bag, but wait ‘til we get to Bobby’s.”

“Why? That’s like, a whole ten minutes away,” Sam pointed out.

“Because my bag’s under a ton of stuff back there. Just leave it for a few minutes,” Dean said. He sensed that Sam was about to get all bitchy and not let it go, but then John cut in.

“He’s right, Sam. Just cool it until we get there.”

Sam frowned, slumping into his seat with an annoyed huff. Wanting to tease him out of his kid funk, Dean smirked, reached back and playfully tapped his knee. “Yeah, cool it.”

Sam slapped his hand away. “Stop.”

“Make me, dork.” Accompanied by another teasing flick to his ear. Sam hit him back, and it would’ve devolved into an immature, but not uncommon free-for-all, if not for John’s heavy sigh and a sharp warning.

“Boys, enough!”

Then the car was silent. Sam huffed again and settled back into his seat. Dean tapered down his smile and sat back in his too. He looked out the window and saw the snow beginning to fall. Without meaning to, his mind drifted back to that weird feeling in his chest.

He rubbed his chest absently. But soon enough, he forgot about it. Just like you did.

Neither of you realized exactly what happened that day.

It was the first tug of a lifelong bond, seared into your souls.

AN: Okay, this is my first soulmate AU! Maybe the end was a little melodramatic there lol.

Let me know in the comments what you think! Then keep reading. ;)

Here it is: Part 2.

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[tanadrin]

i think you can make a plausible argument that it was the cultural reaction to 9/11 that killed the star trek franchise for a long time. without rehashing the politics of the 00s too much, there were two possible reactions to something like 9/11, what we might term the "oklahoma city" reaction and the reaction we actually got. 9/11 could have been viewed as a major tragedy but ultimately a criminal act, one which had to be dealt with by the civil authorities like the mcveigh bombing or other notable incidents of deadly terrorism on US soil prior to that date. instead though it was largely conceived of as a foreign military threat, encouraged no doubt by an administration that wanted to pursue a more vigorous foreign policy, and we got, well--*gestures at the first two decades of the 21st century*

this really soured the national political mood--it made the cultural zeitgeist one of paranoia and violent revenge fantasies. it gave us 24, and Taken, and while I'm not sure it's wholly responsible for the reboot of BSG (there's a throughline there with Ronald D. Moore's other work) it certainly contributed to an environment that was receptive to it. and i think in that environment 90s end-of-history optimism about the future, though it should have been a welcome corrective to all that cynicism and paranoia, simply felt like an anachronism. enterprise did last a few years, but only four seasons in total, the shortest run since TOS. the only movie we got in that era before the big hiatus was Nemesis, a movie about terrorism and a foreign threat that just felt kind of weird and incoherent.

and that was the problem for star trek in that era: if you take the utopianism out of roddenberry's future, you're not left with anything interesting. utopianism is the whole justification for these guys exploring space and going boldly and whatnot, the whole reason why the federation is worth rooting for over any of the other guys. i think a big reason the jj abrams movies fail to have any real substance is that they try to make star trek an action-adventure thing, when that was never its strong suit--indeed, TOS fight scenes are notoriously bad!--and it really took until discovery before people were willing to make star trek qua star trek again.

but even then, there's a degree of pessimism at the core of (some of) post-hiatus star trek that sits uncomfortably with the show's original utopian vision. some of this is just the usual metastasization of conceits that worked better as one-offs or very sparingly at most, comparable to the way the borg got beaten into the ground by voyager. but the heavy reliance on elements like section 34 and the mirror universe and the postapocalyptic future and the crapsack alpha quadrant of picard all to me speak of a certain yearning for utopia--a nostalgia for the utopias of the 90s--but much greater cynicism about the relevance of utopian fiction to our day-to-day lives.

[therealdisneyfan2319]

Mission Impossible Part 2 | Natasha Romanoff

Summary: Four months ago a mission went horribly wrong.  Natasha’s learning to live with the consequences.  Just when she thinks things can’t get any worse, they do.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Minors DNI, graphic description of injuries, blood, violence, medical procedures, mentions of death, mild suicidal ideation, language, cheating

Word Count: 5.6K

Masterlist

A/N: This is the long-awaited part 2 to Mission Impossible.  I’ve taken little bits and pieces from different comments on the first part to create this pile of angst.  You’ve been warned 🫠

Nearly four months had passed since the mission that ultimately destroyed Y/N and Natasha’s relationship.  After Y/N left their apartment he didn’t return.  He didn’t even go back to get his things.  Pietro had done that, muttering and cursing Natasha out under his breath as he shoved clothes and books into cardboard boxes while she watched everything that reminded her of her favorite person disappear right before her eyes.  Y/N stayed with Pietro for a couple of weeks while Tony pulled some strings to get him another place.  He ultimately ended up letting him stay in his New York penthouse, as Y/N had also requested a leave of absence.  He was in no shape to be going on missions, let alone spend  all of his working hours with the woman who tore his heart into a million pieces.  Natasha had also been placed on administrative leave by Fury while he tried to sort out what exactly had gone wrong that night.  She resigned herself to Yelena’s apartment most days, not wanting to spend time in the place that she once shared with Y/N.

 She awoke one morning to her phone ringing: it was Fury.  

“Hello?” she croaked into the phone.

“I need you to come to the office now.”

“I’m still on leave.”

“That’s an order, Romanoff,” he repeated sternly.  “You’ve got ten minutes.”  The phone clicked as Fury abruptly hung up.  

Groaning, Natasha sat up.  She’d spent the night crying herself to sleep like she did most nights.  She rubbed her bloodshot eyes, sighing as she contemplated skipping out on meeting with Fury and going back to bed.  Consequences didn’t bother her anymore.  Nothing bothered her anymore because nothing mattered to her anymore.  Most of the Avengers gave her the cold shoulder.  They didn’t go out of their way to explicitly exclude her, but they didn’t make any effort to include her either.  She was grateful to still have Yelena and Clint, but even they were upset with her.  Whether she meant it or not Natasha hurt Y/N and her mistake affected more than just him.

She threw on a pair of slippers and started for Fury’s office.  She was still in her pajamas, but she didn’t care.  When the elevator opened, she was surprised to see Steve standing there holding two cups of coffee.

“Morning,” he said, handing her a cup.

“Hi,” she mumbled as she tentatively accepted the drink.  Steve wasn’t one of the Avengers who was outwardly hostile towards Natasha.  While he in no way approved of the way she handled the situation, he understood that she needed a bit of compassion.  They never talked about what happened that night.  Steve never pushed and Natasha never offered, but many nights they sat in silence together in the common room.

“Looks like you’re back on the team then.”

“I guess,” Natasha shrugged.  “Maybe I’ll just quit.”

“Nat-”

“I’m serious, Steve.  I don’t know if I want to do this anymore.”  She stared straight ahead as she sipped her coffee.  Steve sighed, knowing it was futile to try and talk any sense into the assassin.  “What’s this about anyways?”

“No idea.  All Fury told me was that it’s important.”  The duo stepped off the elevator as the doors opened right in front of Fury’s office.

“Nice of you to dress up for the occasion,” Fury joked as Nat entered the office.  She looked down at her fuzzy Cookie Monster pajama pants and grey tank top somewhat abashedly.  “Have a seat.”  He motioned to the two chairs sitting across from his desk.  

“What’s this about?” Steve asked as he sat down.

Fury sighed, rubbing his goatee as he paced behind his desk.  “Four months ago Romanoff was tasked with retrieving intel that’s critical to SHIELD’s assault on the vibranium black market.  Her target was a man by the name of Oliver Parker.”  A picture of Parker appeared on the holographic screen behind the desk.  Natasha immediately lowered her gaze from the tall, dark, handsome man looming larger than life in front of her.  The mere thought of him churned her stomach.  

“Parker,” Fury continued, “is only one of many aliases the man assumes.  His real name?  Pyotr Larionovich.  Spent his formative years working for one General Dreykov as a recruiter essentially.”

“Dreykov?”  The name sent a chill down Natasha’s spine.

“He’s since moved on and now works as an independent contractor for all sorts of underground dealings…has contacts all over the world.  We didn’t learn this until well after the mission.  But the fact of the matter is that he knew exactly who Romanoff was.  He played us big time.  The microchip was a dead end.  Sent us on a wild goose chase.”

“I’m guessing you want us to find him and bring him in?” Steve asked as he walked around examining the various pictures and pieces of intel that appeared holographically.  

Fury’s face wove itself into a look of unease as he clicked the remote in hand.  “We need you to recover Y/N.  He’s been abducted.”  A picture of Natasha and Y/N flickered into view: it was the one Natasha kept in her wallet.  

“Where did you get that picture?” She’d never shared that picture with anyone.

“What happened to the black handbag you brought with you that night, Romanoff?”  She thought back to that night, trying to remember what she did with the handbag.  She definitely had it with her while she was down at the party, but what did she do with it afterwards?  She hadn’t left the hotel with it.  As she put the pieces together, she slowly realized her error: she left it on the bar.

“I left it on the bar,” she whispered.  She was so distracted, drunk, and wrapped up in the moment that she completely forgot about it.

“And we have video footage of him picking it up and putting it in his coat pocket.  We figure he went through it, found the picture, and figured out who he was.”

“Is this a hostage negotiation situation?” Steve asked.

“Negative.  He doesn’t know that we know about Y/N.  We’re sure he’ll be demanding a ransom shortly, but we’d like to avoid that.”

“Are we sure about the intel on this, Fury?”

“Unfortunately, yes.  He’s being held in a cargo storage unit just outside of Atlanta.  It’s an old Red Room extraction site.  They haven’t used it in a number of years, but everything is still there.”

Natasha barely heard a word either man said.  She was lost in the depths of her mind, spiraling as she realized the extent of her carelessness.  First she lost her relationship.  Now it could potentially cost Y/N his life.  Grief crashed over her like a wave, threatening to swallow her whole before spitting her back out.  

“Romanoff?” Fury’s gruff voice snapped her back to reality.  

“I can’t do this, Nick.  Send somebody else.”  She stood up to leave, not wanting any part of the mission.

“Absolutely not.  You started this, you’re going to see it through to the end.”  Natasha paused.  He had a point.  She sighed as she realized that he wasn’t going to give her another option.

“He won’t want to see me,” she muttered.

“That’s beside the point, Natasha.  You’re the only one who has extensive experience with the Red Room.  Just get it done.”  The screens flicked off as the lights came back on.  Steve looked over at Natasha, his hands in his pockets as he shrugged.  

“I’m ready when you are unless you plan on going in your pajamas,” he joked.  Natasha groaned, rolling her eyes as she stormed out of the office.

*******************************************************************************************

They sat in silence as Steve piloted the Quinjet.  Natasha stared out the window and watched the world fly by.  Steve looked over at her.  He gave a slight cough, indicating that he wanted to speak.  

“What?” she snapped.

“Nothing.  Just wanted to ask how you’re doing?”

“I’m fine,” she sniffled, rubbing her nose as she turned to look back out the window.

“Nat-”

“I’m FINE, Steve.  Drop it.”

“Okay.”  He adjusted his shoulders as he sat back in his chair.  An awkward tension hung in the air as the silence filled the cockpit.

“I messed a lot of things up that night, didn’t I?” she whispered as she put her feet on the chair and hugged her knees to her chest.

Steve didn’t answer immediately.  He thought for a moment, trying to figure out what exactly to say.  “Yeah, yeah you did,” he finally admitted.  “What were you thinking?  I can’t understand how you came to the solution that-”

“I don’t know.  I don’t know, Steve, I don’t know.  I was drunk and I know that’s not an excuse but I got wrapped up in his charm, okay?”  Her voice cracked as she spoke as all the emotions from that night bubbled up inside of her.  “It was dumb and if I could take it all back I would.”

Steve sighed as he looked over at her.  “He’s a mess, you know.  I went over to visit him right after he moved in and…you really hurt him.  He wanted to quit, you know?  I managed to talk him into sticking with the leave of absence instead.  That was after I convinced him to take a shower for the first time in almost a week and actually eat something other than pizza.” Natasha hung her head in shame.  She’d been beating herself up over cheating on Y/N for months now.  There was no doubt in her mind that he was suffering, but hearing just how distraught he was broke her heart.  

“I miss him so much,” she began to sob as she pictured a depressed Y/N, a shell of the vibrant, loveable man he once was.  “He told me not to do anything dumb before I left.  I know how he gets when I go out on missions alone and I thought it was just another stupid thing he said to make himself feel better.  I told him he worries too much and that nothing would happen.  And then I went and fucked it up.”

“You made a mistake, Nat.  Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Yeah, but not everyone cheats on their boyfriend.”

“Look,” Steve sighed.  “I won’t sit here and tell you I’m not mad at you because I am.  In my book what you did is inexcusable.  Not only did you put the entire mission at risk, you hurt one of my teammates.  The team is broken, Nat.  That’s on you.  I don’t know how I can trust you again.  I’d like to, but I can’t right now.”

“I know.  I’m sorry.  I know that doesn’t cut it, but I am.  I just want to tell him that.”  She wiped her eyes with her sleeve.  “Let’s get this over with, okay?”

“ETA is about 70 minutes,” he noted as he looked over at one of the screens off to the side.  “Fury should be sending the last of the intel soon if you want to give that a look.”  Nat sniffled as she nodded, pulling up the last-minute SHIELD intel on the small screen in front of her.

*******************************************************************************************

“Y/N?!” Natasha yelled as she cleared the door of the storage unit.  “Are you in here?”  Her voice echoed around the empty unit, bouncing off the walls as she struggled to see in the pitch black.  “Damn it,” she muttered under her breath as she slammed the door shut.  

The Red Room base was a complex of old warehouses full of storage units.  Overwhelmed by the sheer number of units to check, Steve and Natasha quickly agreed to split up.  She carefully checked and cleared every unit.  Every rusted door filled her with dread and apprehension.   Gruesome images of a mangled body flashed through her mind and for the first time in years she prayed to whatever higher being would answer first that Y/N would be alive and in one piece.  

“Southwest sector is clear, Nat.  He’s not here.  Anything yet?” Steve’s voice crackled over her earpiece.

“No.  I’ve still got a few units left up here,” Nat murmured into the microphone.

“I’ll head to the southeast sector.  He’s gotta be here.  All the signs point to it.”

“I know,” she sighed.  She shivered against the cold dampness of the warehouse.  The bleakness of it all chilled her to the bone, physically and emotionally.  Her hope of finding Y/N alive was quickly dwindling and the thought of finding him dead made her want to curl up into a ball and scream.  Of course she knew this was all her fault.  If she hadn’t let her guard down on that damn mission none of this would be happening, but there was no changing the past.  The best she could do would be to find him and bring him home safely.  

“Y/N?!” Natasha shouted as she kicked the next door in.  Her eyes scanned the room robotically, not anticipating to find anything worth noting.  As she turned to let the door slam shut once again, her ears perked up at a soft scraping sound.  It was barely audible, but the fact she hadn’t heard any sort of noise in any of the other units gave her reason to pause.  Reaching for the flashlight on her belt, she heard the noise again.  She shined the bright beam directly in front of her and nearly dropped it as she saw her worst nightmare in front of her.

“OH GOD NO!” she screamed, tossing the flashlight to the side as she sprinted toward the back of the metal box.  She nearly slipped in the pools of blood that surrounded the chair Y/N was tied to.  He was blindfolded with a bloody rag, slumped over as thick ropes cut into his wrists and ankles.  Blood, both dried and fresh, coated the exposed parts of his face and matted his hair to his forehead.  His hands were bruised and broken while deep lacerations drew whimsical patterns up and down his arms.  

“Nat, we’ve got movement in the northwest sector not too far from where you are.”  Steve’s voice interrupted the screams that pierced the darkness of the rusted unit.  “Natasha?  Natasha, are you there?”

“HELP ME!” she wailed into the microphone.  The anguish in her voice cut into the deepest parts of Steve’s soul as she cried out like a wounded animal.

“I’m on my way.”

Tears clouded Natasha’s vision as she carefully untied the blindfold knotted at the back of his head.  As it slipped down, part of her wished she’d kept it on.  His beautiful face was bruised and bloodied.  His eyes were blackened and swollen shut and his nose was more crooked than she remembered.  Blood streamed down his nose and lips, staining his face a dark crimson.

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry,  This is all my fault.  It’s all my fault,” she cried as she held his face in her hands, stroking his cheek with her thumb as she smeared more blood around his face.  “I’m so, so sorry.”  She leaned forward and rested her forehead on his, tears silently streaming down her face as she held him close.  She missed the way his body felt under her touch, the way he used to smile into her lips as he kissed her, the way his hands rested perfectly on her waist whenever he pulled her close.  Closing her eyes, she tried to remember the way it felt when he hugged her for the last time and she smiled at the thought of their last happy memory together.

A sharp, groaning intake of breath snapped her back to reality.  Y/N coughed and painted Natasha’s face with specks of blood.  He was awake.  He was alive.

“Nat?”  His voice was garbled and his mouth full of blood.  His swollen eyes barely fluttered open as he attempted to make out the redhead kneeling in front of him.  

“It’s me, baby.  I’m right here.  Steve’s on his way and we’ll get you out of here and back home in no time.”  She ran her fingers through his bloodied hair as his eyes struggled to focus.

“Hi,” he grinned weakly.  Blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth.

“Don’t try to talk, okay?  Just rest.  You’re safe now.”  She wiped up the small trail with her thumb. 

“ ‘M sorry,” he mumbled as tears began to roll down his bloody face.

Without any hesitation Natasha pressed her lips firmly against Y/N’s.  The salty, metallic taste of his lips against hers brought her back to a time where none of this nightmare was real.  For a fleeting second everything was as it was supposed to be.  

“Don’t you dare apologize, mister.  This is all my fault.  I messed everything up and I’m so, so sorry I hurt you.  Okay, Y/N?  I’m sorry.  I wish I could take it all back and I know I can’t so I’m going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you.  I promise.”  She kissed the top of his head as Steve kicked the door open.  

*******************************************************************************************

Natasha was grateful she had a super soldier with her as Steve picked Y/N up effortlessly and sprinted toward the Quinjet at a superhuman speed.  She followed close behind, making sure that the Red Room agents that were lurking in the area weren’t following them.  

“STEVE!  Let’s go!” she shouted as she sprinted up the ramp.

“Already ahead of you-F.R.I.D.A.Y.!  Take us home!”  The ramp closed and the ship began to hover as Steve placed Y/N on the medical fabricator Stark engineered specifically for the Quinjet.  “How’s he doing, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“Mr. L/N has received multiple critical injuries to his head and torso.  Current body temperature is 100.4, heart rate is 50 BPM, blood pressure is 77/50.”

“Can you keep him stable until we get back to the Compound?  And call Dr. Cho.  We’ll need her to be ready the second we land.”

“Anything else, Captain?”

“Don’t let him die,” Steve gritted through his teeth as he took over the manual controls.

Natasha stood by the wayside as robotic arms started IVs, suctioned blood, injected various antibiotics, and monitored Y/N’s vitals.  An oxygen mask was placed over his face as an incubator cover encapsulated him from the outside world.  She watched while a sedative was injected directly into his IV.  The effect was instant: he fell into a state of unconsciousness that permitted him a moment’s respite from the excruciating pain of his injuries.  He struggled to breathe even with the oxygen mask.

“His lung collapsed as a result of his broken ribs, Agent Romanoff,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. informed her.  

“What’s the odds of survival here, F.R.I.D.A.Y?” she asked, crossing her arms as she walked to the fabricator.

“In his current condition, Mr. L/N has a 37% chance of survival.”

“Shit,” Natasha cursed.  Y/N looked completely helpless as he laid there with tubes and wires sticking out of him.  A lump grew in her throat at the thought of him not not being alive by the time they got back to the Compound.  She wiped her eye with the back of her hand, struggling to not completely break down.  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so scared.  More than that she was overcome with guilt.  This was all her fault.  If he died, his blood was on her hands.  She’d been responsible for countless deaths in her lifetime, but his death would be different.  He wasn’t supposed to die.  Not like this, not because of her.  

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“Yes, Agent Romanoff?”

“C-can I hold his hand?”

“Seeing as he has 24 broken bones in his left hand, I would advise against that.  I would recommend perhaps his forearm or his elbow.”

Natasha exhaled a laugh as the AI suggested she hold his elbow.  Carefully reaching out, she placed her hand on his arm just above his wrist.  His entire arm was bandaged from the wrist to the shoulder.  Her sweaty palms stuck to the neat white bandage.

“You can’t leave yet.  Not when I still need you,” she whispered over his unconscious body.  “I’ll make this right, Y/N.  I will be here every step of the way and I’ll do anything and everything to fix us.  I miss you so much.  I know I messed up.  That night went wrong in so many ways and I think about how badly I hurt you every single day.  I know it’s not enough to say sorry, but it’s all I have.  I’m sorry.  I’m so, so sorry.  I’m such an idiot for throwing it away.  But I’m going to fix this.  Because I still love you.”

*******************************************************************************************

No sooner had the Quinjet landed that an entire medical team was waiting for Y/N on the landing dock.

“Cho’s on her way, but it’s going to be a while.  We’ll keep him stable in the meantime.  F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s been sending us real-time updates on his condition,” Sam yelled as he helped a team of medical officers run him into the Compound.  

Natasha’s jog slowed to a stop as the glass doors slammed shut in front of her.  Her chest heaved as she watched the team hang an abrupt right to lead Y/N toward the medical bay.  With Cho on the way and the Compound’s medical team watching over him, she knew Y/N was in good hands.  They were his best shot at survival.

Steve called out to her from the Quinjet.  She strained to hear through the whirring of the engine shutting down.  As she turned to ask him to repeat himself, she felt herself being lifted into the air and tossed like a rag doll.  She crumpled to the ground, rolling back toward Steve.  Instinctively he raised his shield against the unknown assailant, only lowering it when he saw the grief-stricken brunette witch hurtling toward Natasha.

“Wanda,” he warned.

“Don’t stop me, Steve,” Wanda threatened.  Red orbs of magic hovered between her hands as she conjured another spell.

“Wanda-“

“SHE KILLED HIM, I’LL KILL HER!” she screamed as tears streamed down her face.  “I CAN’T LOSE HIM, TOO.”

“Do it.”  Natasha’s voice was small yet firm as she pushed herself to her knees.  “Please.”

“What?” Steve dropped his shield in disbelief while Wanda continued to sob.

“It’s my fault he’s dead.  I deserve it.  Please.”  She choked back a sob as she thought about Y/N’s final moments, how he died a shell of the wonderful man she fell in love with so long ago and how he’d never light up her life again.

Before Wanda could respond, utterly dumbfounded herself, one of Clint’s stun arrows whistled by, landing on her forehead before she shook violently and collapsed.

“Both of you need to relax right damn now,” Clint grumbled as he passed Wanda.  “Relax, he’s not dead.  They’ve stabilized him enough so that Cho can put him in the regeneration cradle when she gets here.  Wanda misheard something and got a little upset.”

“That’s an understatement,” Steve replied as he picked up his shield.

“And you.  Nat, come on.  Come on.  This is ridiculous.  Get up.  Up, up, up, let’s go.”  He extended his hands to her, which she reluctantly accepted.  “Can you grab her?” he yelled at Steve.

“Why-?”

“Did Wanda get so upset?”  He sighed, shaking his head as he pulled her to her feet.  “They’re dating, Nat.”

Natasha didn’t realize that her heart was capable of breaking any more , but Clint’s words shattered it into a million more pieces.  While she spent the last few months wallowing in self-pity and loathing, he moved on.  Her head spun with a million different thoughts and questions as she started to process what she’d just been told.  She looked up at the clear night sky, not wanting Clint to watch as tears started to stream down her face.  The stars offered little comfort to her overwhelming grief. 

“Nat-” Clint placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.  She pulled away at his touch.

“Don’t,” Natasha begged.  “Please don’t.  I can’t deal with this right now.”  She wiped the snot from her nose with her sleeve as she stormed off, surpassing Steve as he carried an unconscious Wanda toward the Compound, for Yelena’s apartment.

*******************************************************************************************

“He wants to talk to you.”

Natasha groaned as she rolled over under the covers, pulling the comforter over her head.  The early afternoon glow of the sun peeked through the blinds and landed on her face.  After spending most of the night crying, she had no interest in being up so early.  Clint and Yelena spent the rest of the night waiting up in the med bay for any updates on Y/N’s condition.  Sam and the team were able to keep him stable until Dr. Cho arrived in the wee hours of the morning and got him in her regeneration cradle.  Once he was in there, everything seemed to turn around for him.  He was in rough shape and recovery would be tough, but it looked like he was going to pull through.

“I don’t care.  I don’t want to see him.”  Her eyes screwed shut as she willed herself to go back to sleep.  A sudden rush of light and cool air pulled her from the feigned sense of relaxation.

“You’re going.  I don’t care if I have to drag you.  He wants to see you!” Yelena ordered as she pulled the covers off her sister.

“What am I going to say to him, Yelena?  Sorry I messed up our relationship and nearly got you killed and then asked your new girlfriend to kill me?”

Yelena shrugged.  “I don’t know, just see what he says.”

“Fine.”  She rolled out of bed, throwing her slippers on as she headed down to the med bay.  The long walk felt even longer as her heart pounded in her chest.  The butterflies she once felt at the thought of him turned to knots that suffocated every inch of her body while the sterile smell of the hospital wing loomed closer with every step.

When Natasha came to his room, she paused as she looked through the window.  Y/N was wrapped in bandages from head to toe, casts on both arms and tubes hanging out from every inch of exposed skin.  Wanda sat in the lone chair next to his bed, her hand holding his plaster-wrapped one through the rails of the bed.  She gazed lovingly over him as he reclined on the mountain of pillows behind him.  Her fingers trailed through the tufts of hair that poked through the weaves of his head bandages.  Natasha could almost feel the way his hair used to slide through her fingers as she watched Wanda soothe him.  She almost felt embarrassed at the way she invaded such an intimate moment between the two.  Taking a deep breath as she grabbed the door handle, she gave a soft knock as she opened it.  Wanda’s neck snapped toward the door as it creaked open.

“Get out,” she growled, her eyes glowing bright red as she lifted her hand threateningly.  Natasha froze as little red bursts of magic danced around her fingers.

“Hey,” Y/N croaked as he struggled to lift his arm.  “It’s okay.  Let us talk.”

“Are you sure, baby?”  He nodded weakly.  “Fine,” she huffed, leaning down to plant a chaste kiss on his swollen lips.  “Try anything and you’ll regret it,” Wanda whispered as she walked past Natasha, who gulped rather loudly.  

Once Wanda left, Natasha cautiously walked over to Y/N’s bed.  At first glance, he didn’t look as bad as he did the night before, but he still looked awful.  The swelling around his eyes had gone down, but they were still black and blue.  His nose had been reset and his lip had been stitched up.  Blood and iodine stained the exposed parts of his face and arms.  Small spots of blood were starting to soak through his arm bandages even though Cho had focused a considerable amount of energy repairing the flayed skin.  

“Hi.”  His voice was hoarse from the breathing tube that was recently removed.

“Hi,” Natasha whispered in a weak voice as she sat down in the stiff chair.  “How are you feeling?”

“Shitty.  The meds make it a little better.”  He winced as he laughed at his own joke.  “You ever broken a rib before?”

“Yeah,” she nodded.  “Hurts like hell, doesn’t it?”

“I’ll never take breathing for granted again.”  Natasha smiled weakly.  It was just like Y/N to crack a joke in the midst of a horrible situation.  “Listen-”

“How long?”

“What?”

“You and Wanda.  How long?”

Y/N sighed.  “About three months.”

“That’s a little fast.”

“I know, but it just sort of happened.  She came with Pietro to help me move and that…that was that.”

“She’s too emotional.”

“She listens to me, Nat.  I can talk to her about anything.  She tells me when things are bothering her.  We don’t have anything that we keep from each other.”

“It’s been three months, Y/N-”

“And in those three months we’ve had more important conversations than you and I ever had in three years.”  His Y/E/C eyes stared deep into hers as innumerable indescribable feelings bubbled up inside Natasha.  “She never brushes aside my anxiety.  She helps me cope with it, Natasha.  I never realized that a partner could do that before I met her.”

Natasha stared down at her slippers.  So many moments from their relationship came flooding back into her mind.  Moments where she brushed him off.  Moments where she kept her true feelings to herself because she didn’t know how to bring them up.  Moments where she simply went through the motions for the sake of the stability of their relationship.  She loved him, but love wasn’t enough.

“The night of the mission…I don’t know what happened.  I never meant for it to go so wrong.  I got drunk, he was handsome, and I messed up.”  She continued to look at her shoes as she recounted the events of that night, too embarrassed to look him in the eye.  “The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you.  I’m sorry.  I wish I could take it all back.  And I’m sorry about this.  I should be the one in that bed right now, not you.  If anything I should’ve died.  I don’t deserve to be here after all of this.”

“Don’t say that.  Don’t ever say that again.  Natasha, look at me.”  She looked up as he strained to look at her.  “You hurt me and I can never forgive you for that.  I don’t think you can ever understand just how much you broke me that night.  That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to live.  You deserve love and happiness and a good life.  It just won’t be with me.”  He lifted his arm slightly, carefully reaching out to her.  She gingerly wrapped her hand around his.

“I still love you,” she choked out through the lump that was forming in her throat.  “I was so scared you were dead and that I’d never be able to tell you that again.”

“A part of me will always love you, Natty, but I’ve moved on.”  

“Shit,” she whispered as tears gathered in the corners of her eyes.  “I hate this.”

“Me too,” he nodded.  “But we’ll be okay, okay?  I’ve got Wanda, you’ll find someone, we’ll move on.”

Natasha nodded tearfully, unable to get any words out.  Her heart was breaking again and again.  Y/N moved on.  There was no chance that the two of them would ever get back together.  All of the hopes and dreams she’d been sitting on since he walked out were officially gone forever.  Now all that was left for her to do was to pick up the broken pieces and try to start over.  

“Go back to work, okay?  It’ll help.  And be civil with Wanda.  I don’t need you two threatening to kill each other all the time.”

“What about you?”

“Well, once I get healed up I’d like to come back.  I miss the team.”

“Do you really think we can work together again?”

“I don’t know,” Y/N shrugged.  “The only thing I do know is that you should probably get out of here before Wanda gets back.  She’s still a little heated about the whole thing.  I’ll work on her, don’t worry.”

“Thanks,” she chuckled.

As Natasha left Y/N’s room, she felt an overwhelming sense of sadness and guilt.  One mistake cost her the love of her life.  There was no way she could possibly forgive herself for that.  Yet in the darkest depths of her soul, she felt something reaching for a glimmer of hope.  Maybe Y/N was right.  Maybe she would find someone else and move on.  But she knew herself all too well.  There was no coming back from that fateful night.  The best she could do would be to soldier on, getting through every day the best she could while pretending that she wasn’t completely broken on the inside. 

[peaches2217]

“I’m here to kidnap the king,” Luigi says, leaning into the room where Mario’s busying himself with administration work.

“I was rather hoping you would.” Toadsworth has clearly been assisting him, but now he’s tidying up and sweeping papers aside as Mario’s head swivels back and forth between the two. Then Toadsworth is herding him towards the door and bidding him a restful afternoon as he’s led away. Luigi tries not to find Mario’s flustered confusion funny, but he can’t quite help himself.

That said, Mario looks awful. His eyes are dark and sunken in, his hair and mustache are messier than usual, and the stubble on his chin and cheeks is patchy, like he hurriedly started shaving days ago and then gave up halfway through. It’s not really surprising; Peach is due any day now, and he’s taken on her responsibilities while she’s on combination bed rest/baby watch.

Peach, in fact, is the one who sent Luigi to kidnap Mario. He spends all day fretting over royal duties he’s not as well-equipped to handle and then spends all night fretting over her. The only sleep he gets is when he gets still and his body forces him into rest, but he’s right back up as soon Peach makes the slightest movement or he hears any sound other than basic ambience. And Peach can’t even stand for very long without help at this point, so her efforts to get him to relax and rest have amounted to nothing.

Cue an elaborate plot that involves Luigi, Daisy, Toadette, and Toadsworth, because she knows four people is the absolute bare minimum it’ll take to get him to stop struggling.

So while Luigi leads his bedraggled brother to a spare bedroom, he lets him know that Toadsworth is covering all of his assignments (which he’s more adept at anyway), Daisy and Toadette are keeping Peach company and watching over her condition, they’ll let the brothers know if there’s any developments, and otherwise, Mario is going to sleep for the rest of the day at the absolute least.

Mario, predictably, resists. These are all his burdens to bear! He’s king consort! He’s Peach’s husband! He’s the father of her child! He can’t just put all of this off onto other people! And Luigi just hums and nods and lets him keep ranting while he coerces him into some nightclothes, because he’s sure talking is the only thing keeping him awake at this point.

Somehow, he finally gets Mario to lay down, and he climbs under the covers with him, both because it’s the best way to guarantee he won’t try sneaking out at some point and because he wants to let him know he’s there, and he can, in fact, give his burdens to other people. That alone does wonders. Comfortable, warm, and alone with his brother, Mario cracks and lets it all out: he’s scared, and he feels worthless. Not because he’s not as good a ruler as Peach, no, him being acting ruler is only temporary after all. But he feels like he’s failing her.

Luigi holds Mario and strokes his hair as he sleepily, almost tearfully pours his heart out. The final weeks of her pregnancy have taken a toll on Peach. She’s weakened, and she’s uncomfortable, and he can’t change that. He can help, but he can’t take away her pain. And what sort of a man does that make him? He’s supposed to protect her. He’s supposed to protect them. Surely he’ll make for one sorry father if his inability to help Peach is any indicator. He doesn’t care that he can’t sleep; she’s constantly tired too, so the least he can do is share in her suffering at least a little. He wishes he could suffer more. He would take it all from her if he could, but he can’t, and he’s convinced himself that that’s some kind of moral failing on his part.

Anyone listening could tell you his fears are nothing more than a combination of new parent jitters and sleep deprivation blowing otherwise rational concerns out of proportion, but that doesn’t make Luigi’s heart hurt any less for him. Mario’s top priority has always been the well-being of his loved ones. There’s a lot on his plate right now, and there’s absolutely no way he can manage it all alone, but that hasn’t stopped him from trying. Luigi wishes he would have stepped in sooner.

But for now, all Mario needs is a listening ear and many, many, many hours of sleep. Having given him the former, Luigi encourages him to take the latter, promising to help in any way he can once they wake up. Mario’s family is his family too, after all. And having used up the last of his energy lamenting his woes, Mario finally stops resisting.

“She’s so strong, Weegee,” he mutters, and Luigi can barely understand him. He’s already dozing off. “I need to be strong too.”

“Then sleep, stars’ sake.” Luigi grins and ruffles his hair. “You can’t take care of her unless you take care of yourself too.”

Mario makes a noise that might be an agreement or might be one final protest, and then he’s breathing deeply and evenly. He sleeps until the following afternoon, and Luigi stays by his side the whole while.

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 17 **

Not much to say about this chapter, we're going deeper into the QZ with our sweet Frankie and his girl, some complications arise and they get some news about their friends. I hope you enjoy! Please reblog and comment if you like it, I love hearing your thoughts!

Series master list

Warnings contains spoiler, but please read if you need to because this series will contain some difficult subjects.

Word count: 9.1k

Chapter 18

Time in the quarantine area moves slowly. Once you’ve figured out the routine of showering early in the morning, before the water runs out, and when the best time is to collect your rations for the day, there’s not much else going on. Frankie gets extra rations, as promised by the captain who vetted him, and he shares them with you, even trading some of his rations to get you a chocolate bar which he hands over with a happy grin. The food rations are small and you don’t know if it’s because there’s not enough food, or because they’re just not prepared to feed you much.

You sometimes talk to the woman who has the bunk bed across from you in tent five, her name is Annie, and she’s come from the QZ in Austin, she’s been transferred over to Franklin because she’s a nurse. She tells you the military in the Austin QZ always had enough food but made sure the population only had just enough to not starve.

“They said it’s because they don’t know when food production will be up and running again, it all depends on when they find a cure for this infection.” 

“Are they getting close?” you ask as you light the small portable gas stove in the tent and heat up yours and Frankie’s rations, two bags of freeze dried chicken alfredo from a hiking food supplier.  

“I don’t know,” she sighs, “there are so many rumors going around, no one seems to know for sure what they’re doing.” She kneels next to you, putting her own rations on the stove. “And of course, so many people were lost in the first few weeks, before we really understood what was going on. A nurse came to Austin from Seattle, she’d been transferred to us because she specialized in anesthesiology and we still had supplies and equipment for that. She thinks the first outbreak was at the Lakehill Seattle Hospital where she worked. She was called into work on Thursday morning but when she got there she was told to go home, the hospital had already put itself in quarantine.” Annie stirred the plastic spoon through her soup as you pull your chicken alfredo off the stove. “That was twenty four hours before the rest of the country started noticing anything and the hospital lost almost all of their staff in that time.” 

“When you were in Austin, did you ever run into a couple of brothers called Joel and Tommy Miller?” you ask. “Joel has a daughter called Sarah. All three of them are from Austin.” 

“I think I met a guy called Tommy Miller just before I left, a blonde guy in his thirties?” Annie asks. 

“Yeah, that’s right.” you nod, smiling at Frankie as he walks into the tent and over to the stove. 

“Hey, cariño,” he says as he sinks down on a crate next to you, dropping a quick kiss on the top of your head. 

“I think Tommy had a brother in the QZ, but I never met him, and I don’t know about a girl.” Annie shakes her head as you pass the bowl of pasta to Frankie. 

“That reminds me, Annie, do you know if there’s any way of looking for people inside the QZ, once we’re out of quarantine?” 

“In Austin there was a notice board in the administration center, people put signs up, they might have something similar here.” 

“I hope so,” you sigh and Frankie reaches over and squeezes your hand, “we have friends and family we haven’t heard anything from since the outbreak.” 

Annie looks over at you both before she drops her gaze back to the stove and her rations, “Don’t get your hopes up, most of us never find anyone again.” Her voice is laced with grief and you don’t ask her anything more. 

Frankie and you eat your rations in silence as you lean closer to his solid shoulder, resting your head against it. When you’re both done he pulls you down onto the narrow bunk bed, his back against the rest of the tent and you tucked in under his arm under the blanket. It’s the only way you can have some privacy in the tent and you relish the time you have with him like this before you both drift off to sleep. Frankie lets his fingers trace small circles on your skin, soothing you as much as it calms him too. Sometimes you talk in whispers, mostly about how you’re going to navigate this new world, but sometimes about your life before the outbreak. Frankie makes you giggle in hushed tones when he re-tells the story of how he first spotted you across the bar, how Pope had pretended he was going to go up to you if Frankie didn’t have the balls to do it, the guys comments when they first spotted you. It makes your heart ache, remembering the four of them huddled at the corner of the bar, all except Frankie, grinning at you. Frankie with his embarrassed smile trying to hide under the bill of his cap as he fiddled with his drink. 

“I know I turned you down when you asked for my number, but I regretted it almost straight away,” you admit, “you looked so shy and sweet when you went back to the guys.” 

“You broke my heart in two seconds, cariño,” You can hear the smile in his voice even though he’s whispering. “Not even Pope wanted to rib me about it when I got back to them, I still don’t know how I could fall so fast for you,” his arm tightens around you, “your smile got me straight away.” 

You giggle softly, turning your head so that you can reach his mouth with your lips. “For me it was the way you rubbed the back of your neck when you got shy, those big, puppy eyes looking all lost and sad, I couldn’t resist.” 

“If I’d known I would've used them more,” Frankie chuckles as his lips brush over yours. “Go to sleep now, hermosa, only two more days in here.” 

The next morning you wake up before Frankie for once, he’s tucked in against you, snoring lightly in such a deep sleep you don’t have the heart to wake him. He’d woken you up a couple of times in the night when his nightmares got the better of him, and you know it took him a while to get back to sleep. Gently you slip from under his arm and climb out of the bunk, pulling on your boots and a hoodie. Since you’d arrived with only one change of clothes you’d been given some spare clothes, including a bright orange hoodie that made you feel like a traffic cone. You make your way over to the communal bathrooms and then the cantina to grab coffee for both of you. There’s already a line forming and you listen to two women your own age talk about the possibility of staying in Franklin or if it’s better to chance it, and go to another QZ. Transferring between QZ’s seems to be easy, the hard part is getting yourself to the new QZ without dying. Their conversation turns to all the gruesome ways they’ve heard of people dying on the outside and you’re grateful when they finally get their coffees and leave. You get two coffees for you and Frankie, smiling a thank you to the lady handing them out and head back to the tent.

You’re just a couple of tents away from tent five when the screaming starts.It's coming from the tent next to you and suddenly a man comes crashing out from under the tent flap. You let out a yelp as you’re knocked over, the coffee mugs tumble to the ground as you lose your footing and fall flat on your back, the hard smack to the ground knocking the wind out of you. You’re gasping for air as more screams come from inside the tent and people are suddenly running, scrambling to get away. With a chill you recognise the inhuman screech that’s tearing through the air and you force your legs to work, your lungs to pull in air again. 

“Get up! Get up, cariño! Run!!” You hear Frankie roaring and out of the corner of your eye you see him sprinting towards you. The tent flap flies open and a man you recognise from the early morning shower queue barrels out, tendrils creeping under his skin, his lifeless eyes fixed on you. He’s fast, faster than you’re prepared for and before you can get upright, he’s on you, his teeth bared and snapping. You get your arms up just in time, his teeth missing your wrist by half an inch as you push against his throat. Deafening gunshots ring out, making you scream, and the man slumps down on you, twitching as you try to hold his weight off you, you’re gasping, crying in panicked gulps. Suddenly Frankie is above you, yanking the man away from you, tossing him to the side as if he weighs nothing and turning to you, kneeling down. 

“Are you hurt, did he bite you? Cariño, answer me!” Frankie is frantically running his hands over your exposed skin, pulling down the neckline of your hoodie as you try to calm yourself enough to check if you’re ok. 

“Step away from her immediately!” a soldier barks from behind the fence, “Sir, step away from her!” 

Frankie’s eyes snap up at the soldier's tone, his rifle is aimed at you and Frankie scrambles to his feet, putting himself between you and the soldier. 

“She has no bite marks, she’s clean,” he calls back, his hands held up to placate the soldier, who’s now joined by three more, all of them with their rifles aimed at you both. 

“She’s been exposed, step away from her.” 

You’re still sitting on the ground and now you turn slowly to look over at the soldiers, all four are lined up behind the fence, rifles trained at you with Frankie trying to cover you with his body. 

“You can’t shoot her!” he yells, taking a step back so that he’s almost standing over you, “she hasn’t been bitten, he didn’t get her!” 

“She needs to go into solitary quarantine and be examined, step away from her, sir. Now!” 

Frankie looks over his shoulder at you, you can feel tears streaming down your face, your hands are shaking from shock and he moves as if to crouch down and touch your cheek and the soldier barks again. 

“Sir! You need to step away from her now! She will be taken to solitary quarantine for two weeks. We need to make sure she is clean and contained.” 

“It’s...it’s ok, F-Frankie,” you stutter, “I’ll be ok.” 

Frankie’s eyes squeeze shut as he knots his eyebrows together like he’s in pain. 

“Can I go with her?” he asks, turning back to the soldier. “Please, she’s my fiancée.” 

“No, for your safety, and everyone else's, she has to go into solitary quarantine for two weeks.”

You get to your feet, still shaking from the adrenaline and shock, “I have to go, Frankie, it’s just two weeks, I’ll be fine.” He knows from your voice that you’re scared, terrified, but you’re swallowing back your panic, trying to stand straight and be confident, tell yourself as much as him, that you’re fine. With pained eyes he looks back at you, reaching out to touch your face before you have to go but the soldier barks; 

“Don’t touch her, back away! Don’t make me tell you again!” and Frankie drops his hand and you take a couple of steps away from him, your eyes still on him with tears streaming down your cheeks. 

“Come with us,” the first soldier calls to you and motion with his rifle for you to follow them along the fence. 

You give Frankie a final look, “I love you, Frankie, stay safe.” 

“Te amo, cariño, I’ll come see you if they let me. I’ll figure it out, I promise, I’ll be waiting when you come back.” His dark eyes are fraught with anxiety as he looks at you, he can see your hands shaking. 

You nod and turn to follow the soldiers, glancing back at him over your shoulder. Everyone in the quarantine area backs away from you as you walk with the soldiers back to where you first came in. They take you through a gate to a smaller area you’ve never seen before, a few enclosures with a small tent set up inside each one. All the other enclosures are empty and you’re guided to the first one. One of the soldiers locks the gate behind you and leaves. You pull off your hoodie as they turn their backs, shivering in the cold air with only your t-shirt on, but you scan every inch of your skin that you can see.There are no marks on you, as far as you can tell, no blood, and nothing hurts as you run your fingers over your neck where the man’s teeth snapped so close. Your wrists and arms are clean too and  you allow yourself to breathe a small sigh of relief while you wait. The adrenaline is wearing off and you sink to the ground with your back against the fence, your legs suddenly weak. The cold winter air raises goose bumps on your bare arms but you don’t have the energy to move.

It takes over two hours, but the doctor finally turns up, a different one this time, together with two soldiers. He tells you to take all clothes off except your underwear and then, turning slowly in front of him, he carefully looks you over, asking you to pull down your bra and expose your breasts too. You shudder as you do it, the leering look in his eyes too indicative of why he’s taking extra time looking at your bare chest. Finally he lets you cover up and beckons you over to the hole in the fence, pressing the scanner to your skin, it blinks green.  “Why do you have to do the ocular examination if you can just scan me?” you ask, angry at being forced to stand in the cold air with his greedy eyes on you. 

“The scanners are experimental, still in the testing phase and we don’t trust them completely yet. As you saw yourself just now, the infection is sneaky and can get past us even if we check every one that we let in.” He motions over to your clothes inside the tent, “You can get dressed, it seems you were lucky but we’re quarantining you for two extra weeks just to be safe.” 

You get dressed and go sit on the single bunk inside the tent. There are no supplies, only a small oil lamp and a gas stove, like the one in tent five. After a couple of hours a soldier comes over with your box of supplies and slides them through the small opening in the fence. 

“Can my fiancé come and see me while I’m here if he’s outside the fence?” you ask and the soldier shakes her head.

“No visitors, we can’t risk anything.” she says and leaves, giving you a short nod. 

Sighing you take the box into the small tent, unpacking it slowly. As you do, you realize Frankie’s must’ve been the one who’s packed it. He’s added extra rations, his own rations, to the box, the thickest blanket, one of his flannel shirts and a hastily scribbled note tucked into it. The shirt smells like him and you fold it up, putting it down as a pillow on your new bunk before you lie down to read his note.

Hermosa, fuck, you scared me! My heart stopped when I saw that man charge at you, but I think you’re ok. I couldn’t see any marks on you and you fought him off like a champion! Benny will be proud when we finally get a chance to tell him, whenever that will be. But when we’re together again I’m going to start training you so that you know how to defend yourself, throw a punch properly at least. I should’ve done it months ago but I was too wrapped up in myself to think of it. 

“And with good reason, Frankie” you say to yourself as you smile, you can hear his voice in your head as you read. 

I asked and I can’t come see you, but I’ll get everything sorted for us when I leave quarantine tomorrow so that you don’t have to worry about anything when you get out. I’ll be at the gate waiting for you, I’ll be the one with a goofy grin yelling “cariño.” Stay safe, mi amor, te amo para siempre, mi prometida. 

Frankie 

You fold the letter and put it in your back pocket, and lie back down, wishing you could write a letter back to him. The prospect of two weeks in quarantine didn’t seem so bad when you first came here, you’d be with Frankie at least. Now, the idea of spending two weeks alone, not being able to even talk to him, scares you. And there’s nothing here to distract you. You stare up at the canvas above the bunk, trying to calm your nerves, breathing in and out. 

You’re fine, you’re fine, you’re not infected, you’ll see Frankie in two weeks, he’ll be there waiting for you. Just think of this as a silent retreat, a really shitty, low budget retreat. 

Frankie tucks the note in at the bottom of the box before the soldier comes to pick it up. Outwardly he’s calm, but his hand flies up every minute to rub the back of his neck, and he can’t stop moving. He’s pacing back and forth through the quarantine area, drawing odd looks from the other inhabitants. There aren’t that many people in quarantine anymore, over the past two weeks most people have left and not that many have arrived. And almost everyone had seen him sprinting at her, yelling for her to run and then seen how he’d frantically searched her skin for any mark. The soldiers had deemed that he hadn’t been anywhere near the infected man before he was shot, but it seems the inhabitants would rather be safe than sorry. They all give him a wide berth.

In his head, his mind swirls while he paces back and forth. The scene plays inside him over and over; He heard the screams and ran out of the tent, he’d just gotten his boots on, and the first thing he saw was her on the ground, right by the source of the screams. His only instinct had been to get her away from there but the infected man came hurling out of the tent and went right for her and Frankie couldn’t run fast enough. In his mind he sees the man jerk as the bullets from the soldiers rip into him and the fear that nearly stopped his heart when he didn’t know if they’d hit her too or not. 

His mind starts to spiral and he clenches his fists to stop his hands from trembling. 

I can’t even keep her safe in here. 

He’s stopped at the end of the quarantine area, at the end of the row of tents, holding on to the chain link fence with both hands, nausea is creeping up his throat as he sees the man attack her again and again and again in his head. He squeezes his eyes shut to stop the dizziness that suddenly has him in its grip. 

C’mon, Morales, you know what this is, just a panic attack, just breathe. Just breathe, man. In and out, in a square. She’s safe, you know she is. You saw nothing on her. She’s safe and in two weeks you’ll see her. Just fucking breathe like the therapist taught you.

He forces himself to breathe in and out, following the square shape in his head. Finally he feels the nausea recede, the overwhelming urge to throw up passes and he can stand up straight again, looking up at the pale blue winter sky over the quarantine area. He’s still breathing deeply, forcing his pulse to drop. Eventually he lets go of the chain link fence and slowly walks back to the tent. It’s going to be two long weeks. 

The days are unbearably long in your solitary quarantine. You have no books or games to entertain yourself with so you fall into a stupor and sleep most of the time. Or try to sleep, you haven’t slept without Frankie curled around you for months, over a year. His warm body has been present in your bed, or bunk, since you moved in with him. And especially in the past few months, it’s been more important than ever to have him close at night, for you as much as for him. You lay on your uncomfortable bunk, flat on your back and stare at the canvas, thinking about him, willing him to sleep calmly even if you’re not there. The thought of him waking up with his nightmares, worse than ever, makes you chew on your bottom lip, you wish you could at least talk to him. Pain shoots through your lip as you bite down too hard and the taste of iron fills your mouth. 

You’ll draw blood, hermosa. 

Frankie’s voice is clear in your mind, you can feel the way his thumb would tug your lip from between your teeth as he looked at you with a small smile. With a sigh you close your eyes and roll over on your side, trying to feel Frankie’s arms around you as you drift off to sleep again. 

When you have the energy, you walk endless circles around the enclosure. Your one break in the monotony is when a soldier brings you your rations once a day. It’s almost always the same woman, the one who brought you the box on your first day. After a few days, when she seems certain you’re not going to change into a monster, she stops and chats with you for a while. She tells you more about the life inside the actual QZ, after the quarantine area. Apparently soldiers sleep in shared accommodation if they’re single, they share apartments with other soldiers and sleep two in a room. If you’re in a relationship when you come in you get assigned an apartment with your partner, if you’re lucky you don’t have to share it with another couple.. 

“It depends on the apartments available, but it’s not too bad here. We’re expanding the QZ and clearing out more apartments so you’ll probably get one on your own with your fiancé,” she says when you ask. 

She tells you there’s a notice board for posting messages about missing people, just like you’d hoped for. But she’s not hopeful about finding anyone. 

“There are so many missing people, FEDRA, the Federal Disaster Response Agency, are trying to organize stuff like that but communication between QZ’s is used mainly for military stuff so there’s not much opportunity to ask about who’s where.”

“Have you found any of your people?” you ask while the soldier, her name is Ingrid, leans on the fence and smokes a cigarette. 

“Yeah, I found my brother in the Miami QZ, he used to live in Tampa before the outbreak and he made it there. Last thing I heard he’s still there and working for FEDRA. But that’s the only one I’ve found.” She takes another drag of her cigarette and glances up at the nearest guard tower. “What about you?” she asks, “Who are you looking for?” 

“Everyone, except Frankie,” you sigh, rubbing your hand over your face. “I don’t know what’s happened to my parents or my sister. They were all down in San Antonio. And then our friends, they were gonna try to meet us at a cabin outside of the city, but nobody made it. I think if they made it they’d be here, or in the Arlington QZ.” 

Ingrid stands up and stubs out her cigarette, “I came here from Arlington two months ago, what are their names?” 

“Santiago Garcia, Benjamin Miller, Will and Hannah Miller, Denny Jones.” 

“Oh yeah, Benny I know! He’s with the military in Arlington, I served under him. Big, blonde, ex special ops guy right?” 

Your eyes widen and you feel excitement bubbling up inside you, “Yes! Yes! That’s him! He’s ok? What about his brother, Will’s his brother and he’s married to Hannah.” 

“Yeah, Benny lives with Hannah but he never mentioned a brother.” She sees the fear creep into your eyes as you realize the reason why Ben might not have mentioned Will. “I wasn’t close with Benny or anything, maybe he just never mentioned him.” 

“But if Will was there, then Hannah would be living with him and not Benny,” you say in a low voice. Ingrid looks at you with pity before she sighs, getting ready to leave again. 

“Yeah, if he was there they’d probably be sharing an apartment and Benny would’ve been the barracks. Listen,” she says, putting her hand on the fence separating you, “I’ll try to get a message to Arlington, let Benny know you’re here, see if he can send you a message back. He’s a commanding officer, comes with some privileges.” 

“Thanks Ingrid, tell him Frankie Morales is here too, I really appreciate it.” 

“No problem, I’ll see you tomorrow, ok, only four days left now.” 

“See you tomorrow.” 

You go back to the tent and sit down on the bunk, Benny and Hannah are alive, that’s something. But Will…your stomach knots when you think about him, calm, reliable Will, always has his friend’s back, always looked out for Frankie when you first started dating, you don’t want to think about the possibility of him not making it. But if Will was in the Arlington QZ, he and Ben would be serving together, you’re sure of it. So where is he, if he’s not there? 

Two days later Ingrid comes back, handing over your rations for the day and she has good news. 

“I got hold of Benny on the radio, it was pure luck,” she says, grinning at you as you feel tears well up in your eyes. “I was on radio duty yesterday and he had information to pass on to Franklin QZ so I got to talk to him. I told him you and Frankie are here and he was ecstatic, he asked me to tell you ‘I’m going to hug her and hug Frankie and then smack Frankie for scaring the shit out of him and then hug him again’. “ 

You laugh despite the tears dripping down your cheeks, “That sounds like Benny alright,” you say as you drag your palms over your cheeks to dry them. 

“He’s gonna send a message to Frankie and if you guys want, he’ll try to get you transferred to Arlington.” She pushes your rations over to you through the fence and leans back to light a cigarette. “We didn’t have time to talk more, but I’d say you can expect a very big hug if you transfer to Arlington.” 

You smile and lean back against the fence on your side too, “Benny is one of Frankie’s best friends. They served together for years together with Will and Santiago, it’s gonna do Frankie good to hear that at least Ben is ok.” 

“Well, you can tell him the day after tomorrow,” Ingrid smiles, “But I’ll miss our chats. Come see me when you’re all settled in, promise?” 

“I will for sure, it’ll be nice to talk to you without a fence in between us;” you laugh, relief making you feel light. Ben is ok, and he knows you’re ok and where you are. That’s a start, you’re gonna find the Will and Pope too, somehow, somehow you’re gonna track them down and get word to them.  

Two days later you’re given a final scan by the doctor, the female one now thank god, and given the all clear to gather your things and exit the quarantine area. You’re longing for Frankie, you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet as you wait in line for the processing to be done for you and four more people who are being released into the QZ. You get some sort of QZ passport and a stamp in it before you’re finally allowed to step through the gate that leads into Franklin QZ. 

“Cariño!” Frankie’s waving at you from behind a low barricade, keeping the area in front of the wall clear. Even at a distance you can see his eyebrows drawn together in an anxious look as raises his hand to you again. “Cariño!”

You try not to run over to him, to not look too pathetic in front of the guards and the other newcomers, but tears well up in your eyes and you break into a run. Through the mist you see him open his arms wide for you and you slam into him, hard enough to make him stumble back before he finds his footing. His arms close around you as you grab his face, his scruffy beard under your palms, and then his mouth is on yours again, finally. His hand slips up and cups your cheek, you feel his fingers in your hair, pulling you closer as he fists your shirt, bunching it up and grabbing hold of you. Your tears are dripping down over your lips and his, he’s wiping at them with his thumb, but when his tongue slips across yours, you can taste them on you both. He’s pressed hard against you and you slip your arms around his neck to hold steady as he picks you up, your feet leave the ground as he hugs you tight enough to squeeze the air out your lungs but you still can't get close enough to him.

“I love you Frankie, I missed you so much,” you choke out when you have to gasp for air and Frankie draws a shuddering breath, pressing his forehead against yours. 

“I love you too, I missed you too,” he mumbles, looking at you with his warm, brown eyes so close it’s all you can see, “hermosa, mi amor, I missed you so fucking much.” His lips are on yours again, gentler this time as he carefully lowers you to the ground, his hand still on your cheek while the other runs up and down your back, holding you close. 

You stay wrapped up around each other for a long time, only the guards are left when you finally break apart far enough to notice the world around you. Frankie’s got a tight grip on your hand, your small box of belongings in the other and he gives you a slight tug, showing you where you’re going.

“C’mon, we’ve got an apartment down this way,” he says and leads you down what looks like it used to be a major street in Franklin. “I got everything sorted for us, like I promised,” he gives your hand a small squeeze. “I joined FEDRA, that’s the military agency that runs the QZ, and I got us an apartment through them and some rations to start us off. The apartment isn't much but it’s furnished and there’s a donation center where we can apply for stuff we need.” 

He turns down a side street as you get further from the wall, a regular city street lined with apartment buildings and offices except it looks almost like a war zone, or at least what you’d imagine a war zone to look like. A couple of the buildings are burnt out and there are burnt out cars along the streets too. Some of the cars are toppled over and down one alley you see a crashed truck with its back doors ripped off its hinges. 

“They haven’t prioritized clearing the streets yet,” Frankie says. “They had to get the walls and quarantine areas up as fast as possible. And they’re still reinforcing the wall in some places, getting it more stable.” You turn another corner and arrive at a non-descript apartment block in sand coloured brick. 

“This is us,” Frankie says and opens the gate into the complex, holding it up for you. “There was no electricity in the daytime the first week I was here. They only just got the power plant up and running again. Apparently it took a bit of damage during the outbreak.” He starts leading you up the stairs, “but now we have actual hot water and lights.” 

“Hot water…” you sigh, “I can’t wait to take a long shower, I’m all grimy and gross, there was no shower in solitary quarantine:” 

“You’re still the most beautiful woman I know, hermosa,” Frankie says, slipping his arm around your waist as you get to the third floor. You lean into him and through the layers of his jacket, the very well worn flannel and soft t-shirt underneath, you can still catch that warm scent  that always seems to hang around him, warm cotton, something woody and very much Frankie. Despite it all, the mess of the entire world, losing Lucía, losing your friends, the looters attacking you, the infected man attacking you and the two extra weeks in quarantine, despite it all, being back with Frankie makes it all seem less scary, less intimidating. You wrap your arm around his waist, tucking it in under his jacket so that you can put your hand between his t-shirt and jeans, running your fingers along the soft skin of the small of his back. He hums gently and stops you both in front of a door at the end of the hallway. 

Unlocking the door he steps in first, flicking the light switch and kicking off his shoes after putting your box on a small table just inside the door. You untie your boots and pull them off as Frankie locks the door behind you. When you stand up he pulls you into his chest, smoothing his thumbs over your cheeks as his lips find yours. His tongue laps at your mouth and you part your lips, relishing the feel of his eager press after so long apart. He feels more needy than he has in months, there’s something urgent in the way he pushes you against the wall in the hallway and when he deepens the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours, you feel heat rush through your body and you moan into him. You wrap your arms around his waist, dipping your hands inside his jeans, his skin soft and warm under your fingertips. You urge him closer, your hips pressing against his and with a low groan his lips leave yours and nips at your jaw, traveling a familiar path to that spot just under your ear that he knows will have you moaning louder for him. 

“Hermosa,” he mumbles, his lips close to your ear, his hands leaving your cheek and caressing down your chest, palming your breast, his thumb seeking out your hardening nipple, “I need you, I need you so much now.” 

You almost sob with happiness, you’ve missed this part of Frankie so much, feeling his hands on your body, feeling him press his hard length against your soft belly, making you moan as arousal floods your body. 

“I need you too, Frankie,” you whimper, gasping as his teeth nip at your sensitive skin, his soft tongue soothing the bite. “Let me shower first, then I’m all yours.” You push him gently away from you, his dark eyes coming up from your neck to stare into yours. He nods and takes your hand, pulling you further into the apartment. It’s almost bare, just a few pieces of furniture in the living room and a small kitchen table at the end of the galley kitchen. The bathroom is next to the one bedroom and Frankie leads you inside and shows you how to get the shower running. It sputters a bit but then a steady flow of hot water comes rushing out and you quickly scramble out of your clothes. You’ve only had one change of clothes in quarantine and everything is dirty and smelly and to drop it all on the bathroom floor feels like peeling off the past two weeks. Frankie can’t keep from running his hands over your body as your bare skin is in front of him, bending his head to kiss your shoulder while he cups your breasts from behind. 

“Take as long as you need, cariño,” he says, still trailing kisses along your shoulder, “I’ll get some clean clothes out for you, your towel is the green one on the hook.” 

“Thank you, Frankie,” you say as he lets go of you and you step into the shower. 

The shower is the best you’ve ever had, the feeling of finally being clean is something you didn’t realize you’d missed so much. You let the water run hot, almost scorching, and soap yourself up three times, washing your hair twice, before you rinse every inch of your body, finally feeling clean, and turn off the water. The mirror is steamed up when you step out of the cubicle and dry off. There’s a comb on the counter that you assume belongs to Frankie and you have to spend some time detangling your hair, coaxing out the knots after two weeks without a hair brush.. When you’re done, you wrap the towel around yourself and make your way to the bedroom. 

It’s as non-descrip as the rest of the apartment, a double bed, a wardrobe, chest of drawers and a chair in the corner. Frankie’s in front of the wardrobe, clothes in his hands, but as you walk in he drops them on the chair and comes over, his hands landing on your waist, sliding down and grabbing hold of your hips, fingers digging into the flesh under the towel. You smooth your hands over his shoulders, he’s shed the jacket and shirt, leaving him in a green t-shirt that stretches across his body, it even looks a size too small for his wide frame. And as you relish the feel of his warm body he pulls you around and walks you backwards to the bed, tugging at your towel and leaving it pooled on the floor. “Take your shirt off, Frankie,” you say, pushing up the hem of it, and he quickly pulls it over his head, his hands barely leaving your body.

He pushes you down on the bed, making you crawl backwards up over it while he crowds you, his mouth finding yours. His kisses are frantic, forceful and needy, his tongue plunges into your mouth, making you moan as you taste him. He’s going to leave bruises on your lips but you let him, he’s pressing hard against you, his low groans vibrating into your mouth. You can feel his knees bump against your thighs as he makes you spread your legs wide, pushing them apart when he rolls his still  jeans clad crotch against your core, a louder groan forcing itself from his chest. He’s pushing you into the mattress, his body heavy over yours, scrambling to undo his belt and pants, shoving them down only enough to free his hard cock, you can feel it push up against your wet folds as he drops his hips against yours, the belt buckle pressed against the flesh of your thigh.

“I need you, cariño,” he pants, he’s grabbing himself, settling the blunt head of his cock against your entrance, “I need you, I need you, fuck, let me…,” he’s pushing himself in, the sharp stretch of his thick cock making you wince, screwing your eyes up, the intense pleasure of feeling him fill you up, mixing with pain at taking all of him so fast and unprepared.

“Frankie,” you whimper, grabbing hold of his shoulders as he pulls out and thrusts back in, a half concealed cry slipping from you as he pushes even deeper too fast. He’s fucking you hard and firm, dropping his head to your neck. You can feel his heavy panting against your skin as he pushes one arm around your shoulders, holding you steady, while his other grabs your hip hard enough to bruise, his own slamming into you at a punishing pace. His climax is approaching fast, he groans into your neck, the rhythm of his thrust stuttering and then he grinds into you, forcing you deeper into the mattress under his heavy weight. With a strangled sob he comes inside you, freezing above you for a few seconds, his hips moving slower until they still, and he slumps down over your. 

You let your hands run through his hair, your own arousal slipping away as you try to wrap your head around how he just fucked you, so unlike him in any way. You feel dazed and  you can feel the sting between your legs, a dull ache from his frantic movements.

“Frankie..:'' you say in a whisper, moving to look at his face but with a hiss he pulls out  and pushes himself off you, shuffling back without looking at you and swings his legs over the side of the bed. He makes a motion as if to stand up but sinks down again, his jeans still just pushed down over his hips, and he slumps forwards, burying his head in his hands as a sob escapes him, shaking his hunched shoulders. 

You push yourself off the bed, moving around so that you can kneel behind him, your hands on his shoulders. 

“Frankie…” you whisper softly, “Frankie, talk to me.”

He grasps at your hands, pulling them around his shoulders and you bury your face against the side of his head as you hug him from behind.  “It’s ok, baby, it’s ok,” you soothe him as he sobs, struggling to catch his breath. 

“I’m sorry,” he whimpers, his voice low and shaky, “I’m sorry, cariño.” 

“It’s ok, come back to bed, Frankie,” you take his hand and gently pull him around when he lets you. “Take your jeans off and come lie down with me.” 

He does as you say and you pull the covers back, tucking you both in as he crawls next to you. Wrapping your arms around him, his head comes to rest against the crook of your neck and you feel his wet cheeks against your skin. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles again, “I’m so fucking broken.” 

“Frankie, my love, you’re not broken,” you whisper, caressing his soft curls, “you’re grieving, it’s normal, I’d be more worried if you were behaving like nothing happened.” 

Under you Frankie draws a deep shuddering breath, you can feel him blow warm air over your neck, and he burrows closer to you. 

“I needed you here, I couldn’t even sleep when you weren’t with me,” he mumbles so low you almost can’t hear him, his lips against your skin. “I just needed to make you real again, I just needed to feel you here.” 

“I needed you too,” you whisper, pressing your lips to the top of his head, “I dreamt about you every night, I’d fall asleep pretending you had your arms around me, holding me so that I could feel safe next to you.” Your fingers run through his curls, his quiet whimpers slowly dying down.

“What did you dream?” he asks eventually, his voice a bit steadier but low, shifting so that he can look up at you, his arm under your head like a pillow. 

“Everyday things, things I miss from before,” you lean forward and give him a soft kiss on his pink lips, still damp from his tears. “Movie nights on the couch, going grocery shopping, driving in your truck, taking Lucía to the park.” 

Frankie nods as he curls his hand around the back of your head and pulls your lips to his again, this time his kiss is gentle and delicate.

“I dream about driving with you in my truck almost every night,” he murmurs against your lips when he pulls back, “I don’t know where we’re going, just away I think. I’ve got my arm around you, your hand on my leg and…” he falters, something catching in his throat, “she…Lucía, is sleeping in her booster seat in the back.” He smoothes the back of his hand across your cheek and kisses you again. “On the good nights we just keep on driving until I wake up.” 

You don’t ask him about the bad nights, you know what happens then. Instead you let him deepen his kiss, his warm hand cupping your cheek as his tongue slips between your lips. He tastes of salt and himself and as he carefully rolls you over, you pull him closer, tangling your tongue with his. He’s holding himself up over you on his forearms, straddling you with his legs and when he leaves your lips, trailing soft, gentle kisses along your jawline you feel heat bubbling up inside you again. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles again, his lips against the soft skin just under your ear, “I can give you much better.” 

“I know, Frankie,” you whisper but the last syllable comes out as a gasp when he sinks his teeth into your neck, not hard enough to hurt, just a nip to make your back arch against him as electricity shoots through your body, gathering in your core. 

“Like that,” he murmurs and you can hear the smile in his voice, his tongue licking across the spot before he moves himself down, trailing his hand down over your breast, brushing the thumb over your hard nipple, before he lets it slip further down. 

“You don’t have to though,” you mumble, slipping your fingers through his curls, you know his grief is still just under the surface, but he shakes his head as his mouth finds your other breast, lapping at the sensitive nub, nudging the soft flesh with the cool tip of his nose as you writhe under him, spreading your legs to make room for his hand. 

“I want to, I want to make you feel good, cariño,” he ghosts against your skin, looking up at you from under his thick eyelashes. He’s cupping your pussy, slipping a finger through your wet folds, teasing at the entrance and you whine, his fingers moving up to slip across your clit.

“Frankie…” you whisper, his touch is electric, lighting up every nerve in your body. His tongue slipping around your nipple as he lets his fingers follow the same pace, circling around your aching bundle of nerves. 

“I know, I know,” he mumbles, smiling at your skin and lapping at your nipple again before he pushes himself further down your body, leaving a trail of wet kisses as his hands come up and caress your breast, your waist, the soft swell of your belly and finally land on the inside of your thighs, gently pushing them apart as he situates himself between them. 

“I remember how sweet you taste,” he breathes, parting your folds with his fingers before he looks up at you, his dark eyes still puffy from his tears but a needy look in them now, one you recognise from many nights spent in his bed. He dips his head and when his tongue drags across your folds, ending at your clit with an extra lick, you arch your back and inhale, holding your breath until he does it again. You’re not going to last long and he can sense it, going easy on you, to drag it out at least a bit.

He hums against your pussy as he laps into your entrance, the tip of his nose rubbing over your clit. When your hands tangle in his curls, pulling him closer he chuckles and you can feel the vibrations, sending more heat to your core. 

“You taste so good, cariño,” he says, shifting his arm so that he can tease a finger into your opening, his tongue licking a wide path up through your fold before he sucks the clit into his  mouth, pulling gently on it. He curls his finger, dragging it out slowly before letting a second one join it. Pushing deeper he finds that spot that makes you buck your hips against his hand, a strangled gasp coming from you as your fingers tighten in his hair. 

“Frankie...” your voice catches in your throat but he knows what you mean, curling his fingers back as he drags his tongue over your clit. The sensation of his fingers plunging in and out of you makes your body convulse under his arm and he lifts his mouth from your clit, looking up at you under hooded eyes. 

“Look at me, hermosa, please,” he pleads, “I want to see you come in my mouth, it’s been so long.” 

Peeling open your eyes, they’ve been squeezed shut under the onslaught of his skilled tongue, you lift yourself up, gazing down your body at his flushed face between your thighs. His eyes are dark, his sweat damp curls an unruly halo around his head. As you meet his eyes he unfurls his tongue onto your clit, lowering his mouth so that you can see the pink tip brush over your swollen bundle, making you whimper at the touch. His fingers are still moving in and out of you at a steady pace but as his mouth closes around your clit again, he speeds up. The familiar coil starts tightening in your core, seeing Frankie’s dark eyes on you as he buries his face, ramps the heat even more and your mouth drops open, panting out whimpers, his name the only coherent word. He curls his fingers back and presses his lips against your clit, flicking his tongue over, his eyes willing you to come undone under his ministrations, and with a strangled cry, you feel heat flood your body. It makes every muscle tense up, your hips press up against Frankie’s mouth as he laps over your clit, working you through your climax, prolonging it until you fall back with a deep exhale, pushing him away with weak hands. 

Black dots are dancing over your eyes and you squeeze your eyelids together, your breath rushing in and out. Frankie’s fingers slip out of your pussy, gently grabbing your hips and caressing over your flushed skin. His tongue is lapping through your folds, tasting your release and humming low as he feels your body relax under him. When he rests his head on your thigh you can feel the soft scratch of his beard, damp against your skin. 

“Had to make it up to you,” his voice smiling as he caresses your other leg with his hand, grounding you with his touch. 

“You did,” you mumble, still coming down from your high, not sure if you’re conscious or not, “more than enough.” You hear Frankie chuckle softly and shift around your legs, his body moving up to lie down next to you. He pulls you into his side, letting your head fall on his shoulder as he pulls the covers back up. You can feel his fingers brush through your still damp hair, his arm tight around your body and you bury your nose against his neck, breathing in his warm, familiar scent.

“You still smell like yourself, Frankie,” you murmur.  “So do you,” he says, shifting his head so that he can press his nose to your hair, inhaling deeply. “Smells like early morning rain and fresh coffee, with a hint of aviation fuel, all the things I love.” 

You giggle and swat his chest where your hand rests, “Pendejo, I do not smell like aviation fuel.”

He chuckles lightly,“ Hermosa, you’re not allowed to learn the bad words. And no, you don’t smell like aviation fuel.” His lips press against your hair and you close your eyes, listening to his slow heartbeat under your ear. Together you stay quiet for a while, the only sound is your breathing and the distant noises from other apartments. 

“I forgot to ask how quarantine was?” he asks softly just as you’re about to drift off to sleep, his question pulling you back up.

“Very boring, mostly,” you say before you suddenly remember, “Frankie, I’ve got news!” You shuffle around, pushing yourself up on your elbow so that you can look at him.“The soldier who brought my rations, she got transferred here from Arlington QZ and she served under Benny there!” 

Frankie’s eyes widen and he stares at you, “Our Benny? Benjamin Miller?” 

“Yes, our Benny! After she found out I knew him she managed to get him on the radio and tell him we’re here!” You grin at the message Benny had passed along. “Benny said he’d hug me, hug you, then smack you for scaring the shit out of him and then hug you again.” 

Frankie chuckles and shakes his head before he’s suddenly serious again, “What about Will, Hannah and Pope? Anything about them?”

You sigh and bite your lip, Frankie’s eyebrows knit together when he sees your face. “That’s the thing, Benny is living with Hannah in the QZ and Ingrid, the soldier, she didn’t know anything about Benny having a brother. And she didn’t know Pope either.” 

“So Will’s not there,” Frankie says immediately, “If he was he’d be serving with Benny for sure.” “That’s what I was thinking too,” you say and Frankie drops his gaze from your face, narrowing his eyes as he thinks. “It doesn’t mean the worst though, it just means Will isn’t in Arlington,” you say, worrying at your lips with your teeth.

“Yeah, but where else would he be?” Frankie looks up at you and gently tugs your bottom lip from between your teeth. “You’ll draw blood, hermosa.” 

“I don’t know,” you admit, “Maybe he got transferred somewhere else? You guys, with your experience, must be pretty sought after now.” 

“But Will would never leave Benny. She, the soldier, didn't ask about Will?” 

“No, she said there wasn’t much time but he said he’d send a message to you as soon as possible. Although, that was four days ago.” 

“I’ll see if I can get a message to him too, my C.O. mentioned something about officers applying for special privileges on the radio for private conversations. I’ll see if I can do that.” 

Frankie pulls you down to him again, kissing your cheek as you tuck yourself into the crook of his neck.

 “Benny and Hannah are alive,” he says, mostly to himself, “thank god.” 

Chapter 18

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko  @javicstories @welcometothepedroverse

[pascaloverx]

To Begin Again

THREE

Summary: You're a new teacher at a large and influential school. It's a risky step for you, as you've been running from your ex for almost two years. But when Dumbledore asks you to take on a class at the renowned Hogwarts, you can't refuse. However, your life as a newly arrived teacher won't be easy. Especially when the other teachers don't seem eager to make friends. Or rather, two teachers in particular: Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.

Author's Note: Welcome, dear readers. Please leave your comments if you enjoy fanfiction. This fanfic takes place almost in the real world (with the addition of werewolves) and is not a wizarding fanfic. There will be some differences and changes in things from the Harry Potter story or other fanfics in the HP universe, but I promise to do my best writing this fanfic. There will be a love triangle coming in this fanfic.

TWO FOUR

One week since your arrival at Hogwarts has passed faster than you imagined. During this time, you discovered some things: single teachers tend to live in a building exclusive to Hogwarts, with one floor designated for each pair of teachers. Each floor is divided into two large rooms on the right and two on the left. These rooms, almost like suites, have a shared entrance between the two rooms leading to a bathroom. Meals are taken at the same time as the students but in a specific staff wing.

Before your arrival, there was a draw to determine who would share the floor and bathroom with you. To your "luck" (with irony), your floor mate is none other than Sirius Black. On the same floor as you, there are also Peter Pettigrew and Bellatrix Lestrange. Other married teachers or staff members of Hogwarts live in houses or mansions in the nearest village to Hogwarts. Students spend most of the school year residing at Hogwarts, being released only on festive dates and weekends if they want to spend time with their families. Not all families reside near Hogwarts or in London, so many students spend the year at Hogwarts. Harry Potter's parents, Lily and James, work at the school and live in the village. Therefore, Harry spends weekends with them. Draco Malfoy isn't as lucky. Lucius Malfoy, from what you've been told, prefers a luxurious life as CEO of a conglomerate over coming to London to visit his son. He apparently has a house in the village where he sends Draco's mother, Narcissa Malfoy, when he's tired of marital life. She seems to be Draco's parental support. According to Remus, Narcissa volunteers frequently to help with school matters. Lucius Malfoy is a major donor of money to assist with the school's financial issues. Hermione Granger's parents are also known to make generous donations to Hogwarts, but as they are not wealthy, this means they spend more time working than being able to care for her. Therefore, she only visits them on festive dates. They apparently live in London, so it's a long train journey to get there. Just thinking about the poor girl spending much of her holidays on a train for hours makes you feel a bit exhausted. Ron Weasley is the son of two Hogwarts employees. Molly Weasley works in the school's administration, while Arthur Weasley works as a librarian. They live in a large house in the village, from what you've heard. 

And those were some of the pieces of information you managed to gather during this week. McGonagall assigned you to assist two teachers in their classes on your only day off, which happens to be today. Something tells you she might not have liked you much, but perhaps she just wants you to integrate into the team. And once again, by irony of fate, you will be assisting precisely the teachers you already know: Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. A curious fact is that you couldn't find out the reason why Lupin has a separate room from all the other teachers and it's so close to the school entrance.

"Excuse me, professor. May I come in to assist you on this fine morning?" You say as you enter Remus Lupin's classroom. His class takes place in an auditorium. Your voice echoes throughout the entire auditorium, and you feel embarrassed.

"Of course, please come in." Lupin replies, smiling warmly as he gestures for you to enter the classroom. The students look at you curiously, especially those who are not already your fans, like Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. You must have been the first one to, instead of fueling their rivalry, bring them together.

"Today, my dear actors, we will be doing some exercises that will prepare you for any theater play. Our first exercise and main lesson is improvisation. Professor Y/L/N and I will demonstrate it for you, and then you will practice with each other." Lupin says, gesturing for you to step onto the stage. As the students step down from the auditorium stage and take their seats as if they were spectators, you climb up, feeling uncertain if you are the best person to assist Lupin.

"Professor, who will tell you what to improvise?" Hermione Granger asks, all smart and eager. The smile she opens for being the first to ask is encouraging. You notice out of the corner of your eye Draco Malfoy sticking his tongue out towards Hermione. Harry looks at him and makes a gesture as if he's going to attack.

"I think it could be Mr. Potter. He seems eager to help us. Don't you think so, Remus?" You say, trying to attract the attention of the three students and observing them focus their attention on you. And then, when Malfoy was about to laugh at Potter, you put two fingers pointed at your eyes and then pointed them at Malfoy, as if to say, "I've got my eye on you."

"Indeed. Potter will tell us where the improvisation takes place, Granger will tell us who we are to each other, and Malfoy will tell us what we're doing. Learn that a good improvisation requires the factors: Where, Who, and What. Now let's see what my future actors have for this improvisation." Lupin seems to have noticed the same thing as you. In the end, it seems like you two make a good teaching duo.

"You're in a pub." Potter says quickly. It seems like he already had that answer ready to go. You and Remus exchange a glance and almost laugh, thinking that you'll probably have to pretend to be drunk. And the worst part, in front of the students.

"You guys are friends who have feelings for each other." Granger says after thinking for a moment. Something tells you she wants to see some good drama unfold.

"And you guys are arguing. About these feelings that Granger made up." Malfoy finishes the plot of the performance you and Lupin will have to do. You feel nervous. It's strange to do this kind of thing with someone you've known for a short time.

"You always act like this when we go out drinking. Flirting with anyone without remembering that we're together." Lupin starts the scene, giving you a slight wink while trying to pretend to be drunk and annoyed.

"That's rich coming from you. You're always out and about with a different person, like some big Casanova. Just to be clear, in a friendship, you have permission to flirt with other people." You act, portraying a sense of indignation.

"Our... our moments together should be just ours. But of course, you don't understand, how could you? You only think of yourself." Lupin says, and it's so funny the way he says it that you laugh, breaking character, but you quickly try to recover and finish the performance.

"You're mistaken, you stubborn man. I think of you. Night and day, all the time if it matters." You say, being overly dramatic, but it seems like the students and Lupin found it amusing. Your finger is pointed at the middle of Lupin's chest as if accusing him.

"Know that I think of you too. More than necessary, more than anyone would like to admit." Lupin says, holding your finger and looking deeply into your eyes. It's almost enchanting to gaze into his eyes. You both lean in closer, without breaking eye contact. Until you hear a noise like two bodies hitting the ground and immediately look down. Malfoy and Potter are fighting clumsily. You and Lupin rush down to intervene, with you holding onto Malfoy, who was pulling Potter's hair this time, and Lupin, who takes the task of lifting Potter off the ground and holding him back. No real harm came to either of them. After a stern talking-to from Lupin, both of them apologized, even Malfoy. It might have been the fear of facing McGonagall or missing the rest of the week's classes, or perhaps the prospect of their parents having to come in. You're not entirely sure what brought about the reconciliation, but it worked.

"Everyone else is dismissed. Except for Malfoy and Potter. As punishment, you'll accompany Professor Y/L/N to her next class as assistants and participate in the lesson. I'll inform the teacher of your scheduled class that you'll be otherwise occupied. When Professor Y/L/N authorizes it, you'll be released from punishment." Remus says, and you look at him in confusion. Is the punishment for them or for you?

"But Professor..." Draco and Harry speak in unison, looking at each other in surprise. You and Lupin laugh, and then you gently touch their shoulders. Then you point to the exit of the auditorium.

"Follow me, boys. Professor Black must be waiting for us." You say, leading them out. Before leaving, you wave gently to Remus, who waves back. The moments of improvisation between you are playing in your head like a movie trailer. The three of you take a long route, with Malfoy and Potter arguing about who is to blame for their punishment and which way to go. It feels like an eternity until you arrive at the hall where Sirius's class takes place.

"Got lost on the way and needed the help of two troublemakers to get to me, Y/N?" Sirius asks, looking at you with a hint of mockery. You take a deep breath because you know you can't curse him. At least not right now.

"No, Black. The two troublemakers are accompanying me as punishment, and I came to assist you in the dance class. I never imagined you'd teach this kind of class." You say, teasing Sirius, who continues with a charming crooked smile on his face.

"So, I have to inform you both that you'll be partners. We're practicing ballroom dancing today, which gives me the unique opportunity to teach this class with a partner. I'm sure Harry and Draco will manage each other just fine. In fact, I'll let you decide who will lead and who will follow." Sirius says, turning on the music for you to dance and extending his hand towards you. You smile, realizing it might be easier to handle the Potter/Malfoy rivalry than you thought.

"You handle them well. Better than I imagined. At least you know how to do that." You say as you feel Sirius' hand firmly hold your waist and guide you. One, two, three, one, two, three. You're being led by him across the dance floor, reaching certain realizations you'd rather not admit. The main one being that you're attracted to Sirius Black. The second major realization is that he's an excellent teacher.

"I know how to do many things well. I hope I can show you all of them someday. But it's easy to get them to focus in class when your lesson requires meticulous concentration. Not to mention, the music and the steps help scatter conversations." Sirius says with a playful tone, leading you through the dance with confidence.

"I find you handsome, and it makes me uncomfortable." Slips out of your mouth accidentally, and you silently thank the gods that apparently no one else heard you. Well, no one else except the idiot in front of you. 

"Let me see if I got this right. Are you uncomfortable because of my beauty or because you find me handsome?" Sirius teases, poking fun at you. You're not sure how to respond, pretending to observe the students. You actually check on Malfoy and Potter, and it seems that besides finding their rhythm, they found a bit of harmony. Malfoy even let Potter lead him in the dance.

"I think it's the second option. It wasn't supposed to be like this. I didn't come here for this. I don't even know why I said that. Just pretend you didn't hear it." You deflect, stepping back a bit from Sirius. As soon as he senses your retreat, he twirls you around and steps closer to you.

"Go out with me. We can go to a bar nearby. If you want, I can invite Lupin. Maybe then you'll feel more comfortable talking about how you want..." Sirius starts to say, but you purposefully step on his foot.

"Watch what you say. The next place I hit won't be your feet." You try to sound threatening, but it doesn't seem to work. Sirius bites his lip and pulls your body close to his, making a strangely sexy dance move.

"I'm looking forward to our date tonight." Sirius says to you, then stops the dance. "Students, congratulations, you managed to concentrate enough for no one to get hurt in this class. Special congratulations to you, Potter." Sirius says, looking in the direction of Malfoy and Potter.

"And congratulations to you too, Malfoy. You two are excused from accompanying me. But no fights on the way out." You say, looking at the two of them, who nod almost in unison and quickly leave the class with the other students. 

"How will we handle the bathroom schedule  of the bathroom that we share, since we're going out together tonight?" You ask as you feel Sirius getting close behind you. You hear his muffled laughter near your ear and shiver all over.

"Not to be obvious, but I think we're grown-ups. We can use the same bathroom without any major issues." Sirius says, trying to sound charming, and you look at him seriously. Then you lightly slap his arm and leave the hall. After all, now you have a date, not only with one, but with two men. If that can be considered a date, after all.

[sirianasims]

Chapter 36

Out Of The Woods

“Daddy, did you see how fast I was? Did you see me?”

“I saw you, you did so well! Ivy and I were cheering for you all the time.”

Hailey had placed second in her first track run. I worked as a coach for the track & field teams now, so Samuel had been sitting with Ivy as they watched Hailey run.

We went to the pier, all four of us together for once, and got ice cream. Hailey was excitedly telling Samuel all about her track times.

It made my heart swell, not so much because she seemed to have a talent for running, but because I hadn’t seen her so proud of herself before, and I was happy that Samuel was here to experience it too. I didn’t want him to miss too many of the girls’ milestones just because we were no longer together.

The girls ran off to try the ferris wheel and we were alone. Samuel awkwardly scooted over to where Hailey had been sitting. We never spent any time together these days. Ever since that uncomfortable Winterfest a year and a half ago, we had mostly kept it to administrative texts and taking turns picking up the girls from kindergarten.

Finally, Samuel cleared his throat.

“So, uh. You look… well.”

I couldn’t help but smile. I was sweaty and Ivy had wiped some ice cream on my sleeve, but I did feel better than I had in a long time.

“Thanks. You too. The beard suits you.”

We talked for a while, carefully sticking to safe subjects. I told him about Jessica getting into fashion design, how she was planning to move to Del Sol Valley with her boyfriend. Samuel updated me on Daria and Griffin who just found out they were expecting a baby.

Then, his expression turned serious.

“Do you ever… have you talked to Charlie?”

I realised that it was the first time either of us had spoken his name for almost two years.

“No. I wouldn’t pick up if he called, but he hasn’t tried.”

“He actually called me when he heard about the divorce. But we didn’t speak for long. I may have said that I would personally castrate him without anaesthesia if he ever contacted you again.”

“Samuel -”

“With a dull scalpel. I was pretty angry at the time, and he said some really cruel things, and… I just don’t know who he is anymore. I haven’t heard from him since.”

I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to give him a hug, but I couldn’t imagine Samuel would ever want me to touch him again.

“Samuel, I’m really sorry that I screwed things up for everyone. Not just us, but you and Charlie too.”

Samuel sighed and attempted to smile.

“Hey, he wasn’t exactly blameless. He was supposed to be my brother. He should never have... anyways, you said you wanted to discuss the girls’ living arrangement? Are you not happy with the split?”

I was grateful for the change of subject.

“I am, but I’ve been asked to coach the track & field team for seniors as well. And I would like to accept, but it’s in the evenings and I’d need you to have the girls a bit more often. I know your schedule can be difficult, so I only want to do it if you can find the time.”

He looked relieved.

“Sure, we can figure something out. For a moment I wondered if you, you know… Found someone.”

“Oh, no. It’s nothing like that. I just figured I should be doing something worthwhile with my time now that the girls are getting older, instead of being stuck in the house all the time.”

“You do know that was always an option, right?”

“Sorry, Samuel, I don’t mean to sound like I was a prisoner. It was my own choice to stay at home, I know. And you did try to talk me out of it.”

“Maybe I should have tried harder.”

“Samuel, don’t. I doubt you could have convinced me back then. I was pretty out of reach, I think. You were right, there was nothing you could have said that would have made me listen.”

We were both quiet.

I wanted to ask him if he was seeing someone, ask why he cared if I was. But suddenly the girls were back and begged for more ice cream and the moment had passed.

beginning / previous / next

[tgmsunmontue]

It's all academic darlin' PART 5/10

12k+ Hangster AU. Updating 2-3 parts per week and will be finished by 31st January 2024. (Each part is ~1500 words).

Bradley is a professor but living his best life with IceMav parents. Jake is a pilot. Maverick sort-of tries (and fails) to play matchmaker, so he tries again. Touch of epistolary and sprinkling of one-sided unknown/mistaken-identity.

For the emails in this part (because bold (Bradley Bradshaw) and italics (Jake Seresin) aren't super obvious) the beginning and ending of emails are also marked with this: <>

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4

                The semester kicks off eight days later and Bradley is covering one of the freshman engineering courses for a colleague who has gone on sabbatical. Freshmen aren’t his favorite cohort of students, he prefers the more seasoned ones, the ones who have the end of their qualification in their sights rather than just starting out. Know how much blood, sweat and tears they’re going to have to put in to get the most out. His life falls into the usual rhythm of teaching-research-administration, with far too much administration for his liking, although he’s sure to stay on the good side of the engineering school administrators, who help make his life so much smoother in all respects.

                He has a fairly fixed routine, knows it’s entrenched in his upbringing, like the need for all his plates and mugs to match. He has quiz night with his colleagues and some postgraduate students every week, and they never allow him to duck out unless he’s sick. He goes rock climbing at least twice a week, sometimes three times. Runs three or four mornings a week. Plays music to unwind and because it forces himself to switch off other trains of thought; has a jam session with others every month. Goes hiking every other week. Mav has started joining him at either rock climbing or for the hike. He’s started joining Mav at the hangar occasionally, either working on a bike or some other piece of junk (and no Mav, my Bronco is not junk!)

                He has a meal box delivered every week on a Sunday night just before he usually heads out to Sunday night dinner with Mav and Ice. It’s meals for five nights, meant for two people. He just takes leftovers for lunch the next day except on the nights one of his friends comes over. He’s had a couple of long-term relationships and he knows Mav worries, but Bradley really doesn’t see it. Bradley likes his life. It’s over-flowing with friends and family. His job is interesting and challenging in equal measure. He’s well-liked and respected in his field, students from around the world want him to supervise them to do their own doctoral study, which is a huge compliment. He’s never had to put a relationship before work before, and while maybe with hindsight and the maturity that comes with age he was maybe a little insensitive about a couple of things he can’t go back and change things. He has his priorities and the people in his life know what those are. His hobbies and friends are important to him. His work is very important to him.

                He doesn’t expect to hear from Jake, although realizes he’s a little disappointed that he hasn’t. After talking properly with Mav he wants to meet the guy Mav knows and not what he suspects was a heavily curated version, although he doesn’t think the version that Mav knows is really the real one either. He thinks about it occasionally, a little puzzle in the back of his mind that he cannot ask Mav about, because he for sure as fuck would jump on any sign of interest and shove him in Jake’s path (again!) and he’s fine with his dad not being involved the next time he goes on a date.

                It’s a few months later when he opens his emails and spies the name Jake Seresin and it throws him a little, unexpected.

&lt;>Dear Professor Bradshaw,

I recently read your article about the mechanical and tribological behavior of particle reinforced matrix composites, particularly those used in aircraft structures for the less weight to strength ratio, low wear rate and high creeping behavior. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind answering some questions around the physical and mechanical properties, specifically the pros and cons between silicon versus titanium composites and the potential microstructure evaluation.

I look forward to hearing from you at your earliest convenience.

Lieutenant Jake Seresin<>

…             …             …

                Jake hadn’t known why Mav had given him the print-out of the journal article, he’d been too surprised at the time having someone waving him off as he deployed for seven months. A late deployment for reasons that were never explicitly explained but it’s what his orders were after he was physically recovered and undergone all assessments to ensure he was fit to fly. Some light reading material while you’re away… Mav had said, grinned, as he’d slapped the paper to Jake’s chest. Who even used paper these days? Trust Mav to print something out.

                It had taken him a couple of read-throughs to get to the end, the first time it had put him to sleep, but he’s sure it’s because he was so tired. Although Characteristics Study of Physical, Mechanical and Tribological Behaviour of SiC/TiB2 Dispersed Aluminium Matrix Composite isn’t his usual reading material. He had a couple of questions though, had seen the email address for the first author and just thought… why not? He had nothing to lose. Besides, Mav has recommended him to be a test pilot, and while he’s never had an interest before, if he does get into testing it would be good to understand more. Mav obviously thinks he should know more, or he wouldn’t have given him the article.

                So he shoots off the email, not wasting time with his actual questions incase the email goes to a dead-end and is never answered. He’s surprised he gets a reply within a day. Or what feels like a day on the ship, the rostered shifts making him lose time.

&lt;>Hey Jake, nice to hear from you. Glad you liked my article, surprised you even found it to be honest. Happy to answer your questions though. Do you want to do this via email, over the phone or in person? I always find in person a bit easier when I'm explaining complex problems. I've got some really good hands-on examples I can show you, happy to give you a private tour as well.

Let me know!

Kind regards,

Bradley B.<>

                Bradley. Another freaking Bradley. He wonders how popular that name is for him to have met another Bradley and now be emailing another one. Although he feels for this man, his parents naming him Bradley Bradshaw clearly wanted him to grow up and be able to take some hits. He reads the email a couple more times. It’s very familiar. Friendly. The temptation to shoot back an email brimming with innuendo is there, but he has no idea if he’s reading into something that isn’t there. He sits back and cracks his knuckles. This guy is a professor at SDU, there must be photos of him on the University website. Maybe that’ll help him determine how to reply.

                It doesn’t work though. He gets plenty of pictures, even some of Mav’s son which is fucking weird, but there are apparently more people called Bradley Bradshaw than he thought, although Bradley Shaw seems to be Google’s first fucking preference. He narrows it down by adding further criteria and finally ends up on the staff landing page listing the staff with little professional photos beside each one.

       ��        Except for one Bradley Bradshaw.

                Instead it’s a picture of a fucking rooster of all things. The little cartoon one from Moana of all things, which he will deny knowing the name of with his last breath if he needs to. What kind of person doesn’t have a professional picture up? Okay, this one obviously. It makes Jake think he might be fairly young, or maybe really old? Fucked if he knows. He reads the little blurb and does some mental arithmetic and figures he must be around 40, maybe up to 45. He frowns, wondering how else he can find information about his personality and then he has an idea. He’s never used it, but he knows about Rate my Professor and he jumps into it, wondering what kind of information he can find. Maybe some idea about the guy.

Prof Bradshaw is a very good professor, he cares about student learning. While I found him to be a tough grader, he was engaging and thought-provoking. He constantly challenged us and didn’t take any BS.

Dr Bradshaw tends to give pop quizzes, so stay on top of the material. I liked his teaching style.

Would it kill him to dress properly? Demanding but fair. Somehow a hardass and a soft touch at the same time.

This was a difficult class, some classmates really struggled through it. Professor Bradshaw seemed to care about all students and went out of his way to help. His tests are hard, but he gives clear understanding of what he expects. The material can be really overwhelming and it’s hard to follow it, but I think if I’d had any other professor I would have failed.

Great sense of humor. Terrible taste in clothes. And facial hair.

He clearly enjoys teaching this subject and he wants his students to enjoy it just as much, which sucks when it’s a compulsory and you actually don’t want to be there. Respect for him though because he still helped me pass.

Demanding but fair. Show up to class, read the course materials and you’ll be fine.

Knows his shit.

Having a professor who is fluent in asl was a godsend. He went above and beyond to help me with my degree. He’s now one of my doctoral supervisors. Awesome educator and amazing person.

I know we’re not meant to comment on looks, but Prof B oozes confidence, and that’s attractive by itself. A++

               It’s that last comment that makes Jake grin slowly, think that this guy is maybe on the younger side.

&lt;>Hi Bradley,

Thanks for the prompt reply. I know I'm no expert, but I'd really appreciate your time. I'm not currently in the country, so we’ll just have to deal with emails for now. We can talk about that private tour and hands-on example when I'm back.

Kind regards,

Lieutenant Jake Seresin<>

                After he’s pressed send he feels a flush of unexpected embarrassment. That felt like too much. Unable to read the facial expressions, no idea if it was far too flirtatious, or just plain weird. He frantically looks for the recall button, knows he has about one minute to stop the message from going. He can’t remember where that particular setting is though and he stares at his screen. Okay. It’s fine. In his experience people who don't know they are being flirted with don't know. So hopefully there's no harm done. And if he gets a flirty reply? Well. He's okay with that too.

                He doesn’t have to wait very long.

PART SIX

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

Aaron Sibarium

July 25, 2024

Princeton University is on the verge of promoting a professor who participated in the occupation of a campus building that disrupted university operations and led to more than a dozen arrests, according to an email reviewed by the Washington Free Beacon.FreeBeacon

The university has recommended that the classics scholar Dan-el Padilla Peralta, who along with 13 anti-Israel student protesters stormed Princeton’s historic Clio Hall in April, be promoted from associate to full professor, pending the approval of the university’s board of trustees. Peralta already has tenure, but the promotion would make him eligible for university leadership roles, including deanships.

"I'm sure you will want to join me in congratulating Dan-el on his promotion to a full professorship," the chair of the classics department, Barbara Graziosi, wrote to her colleagues on July 18. "This is still 'unofficial' news, because the Board of Trustees will have to rubber stamp the recommendation made by the committee that oversees promotions, but I was told I am allowed to share the news internally and do so with glee."

The board is all but certain to accept the recommendation, professors familiar with the matter said, given that the group signs off on virtually all appointments. Princeton and Peralta did notrespond to requests for comment.

The promotion comes as Princeton’s peer universities have taken a soft-on-crime approach to the unlawful and at times violent protests that have rocked campuses since the Oct. 7 terrorist attacks. The Harvard Corporation this month reversed its decision to withhold degrees from 11 students who led an encampment in Harvard yard, one of whom is a Rhodes Scholar set to attend Oxford University next year. Other schools, including Northwestern and Middlebury, ended their encampments by negotiating with protesters and acceding to many of their demands.

At Princeton, Peralta played a leading role in the most disruptive protest the campus had experienced in years. He and another professor, sociologist Ruha Benjamin, joined 13 students in occupying Clio Hall, the home of Princeton’s graduate school administration, as 200 additional protesters cheered them on from the outside.

Police eventually warned the occupiers that they would be arrested if they did not exit the building. Peralta and Benjamin did so, but the students did not.

After a chaotic effort to stop the police—at one point the crowd surrounded a bus where two of the protesters were being held—all 13 students were arrested while the professors who had encouraged them escaped without sanction.

The showdown followed a four day sit-in in the university’s McCosh Courtyard, where several Princeton faculty members, including Peralta, had delivered remarks. Though the sit-in relocated to another part of campus after the occupation of Clio Hall, it was allowed to continue in its new location for over a week.

A classicist who argues that "whiteness" is inseparable from classics, Peralta is perhaps Princeton’s most prominent scholar-activist.

He spearheaded a faculty letter in 2020 that called on the university to give minority professors extra pay and sabbatical time—compensation for their "invisible work," the letter said—and is a vocal supporter of the Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions movement, which calls for an economic boycott of the Jewish state.

During the sit-in in April, Peralta also proposed a faculty resolution granting amnesty to "students and other university affiliates involved in peaceful free speech and assembly for justice in Palestine." The non-binding resolution passed narrowly in May and condemned the university’s decision to discipline the students who stormed Clio Hall.

Unlike Harvard, which promised harsh sanctions before walking them back, Princeton was lenient from the get-go: A university spokeswoman announced in May that the students were unlikely to get more than probation.

[dragoneyes618]

A subcommittee of the House Committee on Education and the Workforce heard emotional testimony last week from University of Californian college professors (and two others) about how Jew-hatred has affected their careers since the Hamas terrorist attacks in southern Israel on Oct. 7.

The Committee heard from four witnesses: Mark Rienzi is the President and CEO of the Becket Fund for Religious Liberty in Washington, D.C. Brian Keating is the Chancellor’s Distinguished Professor of Physics at the University at UC San Diego. Melissa Emrey-Arras is the Director of the GAO’s Education, Workforce and Income Security Team in Washington, D.C. Professor Dafna Golden is a Geography professor at Mt. San Antonino College in Walnut, California.

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Dafna Golden, testified that it would be unbearable to continue to do her job due to the antisemitism that she has experienced.

“Like so many of my Jewish colleagues at colleges across the country, the general antisemitic, hostile environment turned to focus on me directly because I am a Jew,” Golden told the subcommittee. “Because I won’t hide or reject my connection as a Jew to the Jewish state and the Jewish people.”

Due to the “toxic atmosphere and severe impact on my mental health and my professional standing, and the refusal of my employer to protect me in my workplace, I have decided to transition out of academia as soon as possible,” the professor testified.

The hearing is the latest round of the committee’s investigation into Jew-hatred on college campuses and in K-12 education since Oct. 7.

Students and faculty have launched a flurry of formal discrimination complaints and lawsuits alleging that school administrations fostered a hostile environment against Jews, amid the proliferation of anti-Israel and antisemitic protests on campuses.

Brian Keating, who is also Jewish, described what that environment was like for younger professors and students on his campus.

“Faculty members call their colleagues ‘colonizers,’” Keating testified. “During a tour of a lab and workspace environment where Israelis and Jews are working and pursuing their studies, they are confronted by calls for elimination of the one Jewish homeland.”

One of the most shocking parts of the hearing was when Keating reported that John Hildebrand, an oceanographer at UC San Diego who serves as that university’s chair for the University of California Academic Senate, who met with Students for Justice in Palestine, but refused on five separate occasions to meet with any Jewish students, citing various excuses, like lack of time, even as some of these students were feeling physically threatened. He also refused to meet with any Jewish professors outside of very limited circumstances.

Keating also described the role that the United Auto Workers labor union has played in organizing strikes and anti-Israel protests.

Despite its name, the union now represents more than 100,000 academic workers across the country, including 48,000 faculty and student employees in UAW local 4811 representing the University of California system.

“They are effectively forced to be members of the United Auto Workers union as part of their contract and their collective bargaining agreement,” Keating said, of his graduate student teaching assistants.

“They organize rolling strikes, they call them ‘day of action’ or ‘complicity tours,’ where they would organize shutdowns of campus or attempt to shut down campus,” he said.

UAW 4811’s website is almost entirely devoted to anti-Israel protest-related grievances.

“UAW members have chosen to participate in the nonviolent Palestine Solidarity Encampments to call attention to UC’s financial ties to Israel’s war effort and urge UC to divest from companies and industries currently profiting off of the suffering in Gaza,” the site said.

An Orange County superior court judge ruled in early June that UAW 4811’s strike violated its collective bargaining agreement with the University of California and issued a restraining order against it.

Additionally, Keating related testimony compiled from Jewish UCSD students. One graduate said, “I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I can’t work at UCSD, I can barely live here – and I have learned, brutally and painfully, where my life ranks for the people I’m surrounded by every day.”

Another, a professor of anthropology, said: “In October, anthropology professors canceled classes in solidarity with Hamas and used departmental listservs to urge others to follow suit. A Jewish professor was publicly called a hypocrite for not attending a meeting on Passover. The Director of Undergraduate Studies presented a letter demanding faculty take a public stand against the Chancellor and Israel, which she had coerced students into signing. Professors have also pushed for BDS, the Chancellor’s resignation, and actions against Israel while suppressing opposing viewpoints. They aim to sever research and teaching partnerships with Israeli scholars despite these scholars protesting against their government.”

Keating reported that despite multiple official complaints to the Office of Prevention of Harassment and Discrimination and appeals to the DEI Officer, no actions have been taken. The university has also ignored requests for an advisory committee on antisemitism and testimony given to lawyers investigating an open Title VI case.

In her written testimony, Golden noted that the campus (her workplace) became increasingly hostile after she confronted a colleague about showing an antisemitic video – “The Occupation of the American Mind,” narrated by the notorious antisemite Roger Waters – in his classroom just weeks after Oct. 7. The film’s central thesis is that “leaders of major Jewish organizations” have conspired to use their power to control and thus “occupy” the minds of innocent Americans so that they would support Israel. Golden wrote, “The movie is basically a screen version of The Protocols of the Elders of Zion and serves no academic function.”

After her complaint, the movie was not screened campus-wide, but the professor continued to show this film in his classes on U.S. History, Mexican American History and Native American History.

In retaliation, the professor began a campaign of harassment against Golden, calling her a “violent Zionist” and a “former soldier in the IDF” (she was never in the IDF) in an email sent to his entire class. He told students “to stand up” to her. A Jewish student in one of the professor’s classes documented these actions, including a disturbing incident where the professor mimicked a Nazi salute in class.

Then “individuals associated with a notorious antisemitic organization on campus, Shut It Down 4 Palestine, vandalized the bulletin board outside my office by removing my Israeli flag and pro-Israel articles, and replacing them with anti-Israel propaganda, including a flyer with demands to ‘Renounce the Pro-Zionist,’ ‘Remove the Pro-Zionist library display,’ and ‘Declare support for Palestine,’” Golden wrote.

Additionally, Golden testified that she had installed “a perfectly normal, non-ideological, academic display at the school library on Israel’s changing borders from prior to the establishment of the state until the present time” which featured books such as Coexistence & Reconciliation in Israel and both the Israeli and Palestinian flags. But due to student complaints and “division in the community,” the library removed the display.

Golden’s RateMyProfessors.com profile was also bombarded with fake negative reviews. “Students making public comments at the open meeting of the Mt. SAC Board of Trustees demanded that I be fired and declared a boycott of my classes.”

Golden’s spring semester on-campus class was canceled due to low enrollment, limiting her teaching to online only. “My lack of on-campus presence has deteriorated crucial collaborative relationships, essential for the multi-disciplinary program I manage. My colleagues’ reactions during virtual meetings and their reluctance to engage with me professionally underscore the prevalent hostility. My attempts to engage with key faculty and administration, including the head of the Ethnic Studies department, the President of the Faculty Academic Senate and the President of Mt. SAC, have been ignored, leaving the pervasive anti-Semitism on campus unaddressed.”

A few days before the hearing, three Jewish students at the University of California, Los Angeles – two law students and an undergraduate – asked a federal court on Monday to force UCLA to protect their safety when they return to the public school’s campus on Aug. 15.

“UCLA allowed a group of extremist students and outside agitators to set up an encampment where they stopped Jewish students from accessing classes, the library and other critical parts of campus,” stated the Becket Fund, which is representing the students.

The public school “allowed and reinforced these zones, breaking the law and hurting its Jewish students,” Becket added, noting the students are “asking a federal court to prevent UCLA from ever allowing such exclusion of Jewish students again.”

“No student should have to fear for their safety or pass a religious test to walk freely at a public university,” said Mark Rienzi, president of Becket, who is representing the students along with the firm Clement & Murphy.

“UCLA’s behavior on this issue has been shameful, and the students need a court order to allow them to return to campus safely this fall,” Rienzi said.

The law students are Yitzchok Frankel – a father of four, who “faced antisemitic harassment simply for wearing a kippah and was forced to abandon his regular routes through campus because of the Jew Exclusion Zone” – and Eden Shemuelian, who had to walk around the encampment and hear its antisemitic chants, “severely” compromising her studies for final exams, per Becket.

An undergraduate history major, Joshua Ghayoum “was repeatedly blocked from accessing the library and other public spaces.” He also heard chants of “death to Jews” from the encampment, Becket said.

“It’s appalling that an elite American university would actively support and encourage masked mobs of antisemites,” Rienzi stated. “UCLA’s Jewish community needs to know that they’ll be safe on campus before the start of the fall semester.”

[trustednewstribune]

4 Dead, 60 Injured As "Strongest Earthquake In 25 Years" Hits Taiwan

At least four people were killed and nearly 60 injured Wednesday by a powerful earthquake in Taiwan that damaged dozens of buildings and prompted tsunami warnings that extended to Japan and the Philippines before being lifted.

Officials said the quake was the strongest to shake the island in decades, and warned of more tremors in the days ahead.

"The earthquake is close to land and it's shallow. It's felt all over Taiwan and offshore islands," said Wu Chien-fu, director of Taipei's Central Weather Administration's Seismology Center.

Strict building regulations and disaster awareness appear to have staved off a major catastrophe for the island, which is regularly hit by earthquakes as it lies near the junction of two tectonic plates.

Wu said the quake was the strongest since a 7.6-magnitude struck in September 1999, killing around 2,400 people in the deadliest natural disaster in the island's history.

Wednesday's magnitude-7.4 quake struck just before 8:00 am local time (0000 GMT), with the United States Geological Survey (USGS) putting the epicentre 18 kilometres (11 miles) south of Taiwan's Hualien City, at a depth of 34.8 kilometres.

Three people among a group of seven on an early-morning hike through the hills that surround the city were crushed to death by boulders loosened by the earthquake, officials said.

Separately, a truck driver died when his vehicle was hit by a landslide as it approached a tunnel in the area.

Social media was awash with shared video and images from around the country of buildings swaying as the quake struck.

"I wanted to run out, but I wasn't dressed. That was so strong," said Kelvin Hwang, a guest at a hotel in the capital, Taipei, who sought shelter in the lift lobby on the ninth floor.

Dramatic images were shown on local TV of multi-storey structures in Hualien and elsewhere tilting after it ended, while a warehouse in New Taipei City crumbled.

Local TV channels showed bulldozers clearing rocks along roads to Hualien, a mountain-ringed coastal city of around 100,000 people that was cut off by landslides.

President Tsai Ing-wen called for local and central government agencies to coordinate with each other, and said that the national army would also be providing support.

The National Fire Agency confirmed the death toll, adding nearly 60 people had been treated for quake-related injuries.

Regional impact - In Taiwan, Japan and the Philippines, authorities initially issued a tsunami warning but by around 10 am (0200 GMT), the Pacific Tsunami Warning Center said the threat had "largely passed".

In the capital, the metro briefly stopped running but resumed within an hour, while residents received warnings from their local borough chiefs to check for any gas leaks.

Taiwan is regularly hit by earthquakes as the island lies near the junction of two tectonic plates, while nearby Japan experiences around 1,500 jolts every year.

Across the Taiwan Strait, social media users in China's eastern Fujian province, which borders Guangdong in the south, and elsewhere said they also felt strong tremors.

Residents of Hong Kong also reported feeling the earthquake.

China, which claims self-ruled Taiwan as a renegade province, was "paying close attention" to the quake and "willing to provide disaster relief assistance", state news agency Xinhua said.

Fabrication at Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Company -- the world's biggest chip maker -- was briefly interrupted at some plants, a company official told AFP, while work at construction sites for new plants was halted for the day.

The vast majority of quakes around the area are mild, although the damage they cause varies according to the depth of the epicentre below the Earth's surface and its location.

The severity of tsunamis -- vast and potentially destructive series of waves that can move at hundreds of kilometres per hour -- also depends on multiple factors.

Japan's biggest earthquake on record was a massive 9.0-magnitude undersea jolt in March 2011 off Japan's northeast coast, which triggered a tsunami that left around 18,500 people dead or missing.

The 2011 catastrophe also sent three reactors into meltdown at the Fukushima nuclear plant, causing Japan's worst post-war disaster and the most serious nuclear accident since Chernobyl.

Japan saw a major quake on New Year's Day this year, when a 7.5-magnitude tremor hit the Noto Peninsula and killed more than 230 people, many of them when older buildings collapsed.