#anyway it's clear why this book is taught in english class

[iampresent]

Roger Chillingworth is so funny he literally comes to Boston after having gone through the goddamn tribulations for like 2 years only to find out that his wife who never liked him is in trouble for adultery and talks to her and is just like “Nah your good. I forced you into an unhappy marriage, you cheated on me and got punished, tit for tat.” *Points at Arthur Dimmesdale, wet paper bag man extraordinaire* “THIS GUY on the other hand”, and then proceeds to have weird fucked up sexual tension with him while phytologically tormenting him for 7 years.

like holy shit dude how are you the most socially progressive man in this book. 

[dailyrandomwriter]

Day 616

@wereah and I are still trying to get through Heaven’s Official Blessing. It’s just been hard to match up schedules and take out time to stream the show together. Nevermind the potential Internet problems that come within.

The two of us afterwards were talking about the last show twist, and potential unreliable narration of two of the characters. It occurred to me the next day that I couldn’t tell if our sudden jump to this idea that the characters were unreliable due to the fascinating set up the show did in the first season, or because we’re both adults who are media nerds at heart. 

Unreliable narration, whether it is from the story itself or from the characters in the story is a technique that has always been a bit touch and go. This is primarily because recognizing, or even assuming someone or something may be unreliable, requires media literacy. 

Though, in all fairness, the nature of storytelling is probably the reason why you need to teach the idea of unreliable narration rather than assume the reader will pick it up.

Because the story, movie, show, comic, etc., needs to inform the audience about the world and characters within it, most of the time the narrative and the characters will be reliable in imparting that information. They have to be, otherwise the audience doesn’t know what information to parse. As children, all our stories are painfully honest, and it’s always the assumption that the characters are reliable. 

In fact, I didn’t come across unreliable narration until I was 18, taking advanced English and Literature classes in high school. In English class, it was the story of Hamlet from Shakespheare. Hamlet himself was an unreliable narrator, still grieving the death of his father and not understanding the circumstances that led to his uncle and his mother getting married because he wasn’t there. While he paints his uncle as an usurper to the throne, let us be clear, his uncle wanted the throne so badly he would have tried killing Hamlet before he got back home, because you can’t gain the throne by marrying the old Queen. Succession does not work that way.The uncle only began plotting to kill Hamlet when he started fearing for his life.

In my Literature class, it was actually the narration itself potentially being unreliable. Though, I would argue that Margaret Atwood didn’t mean to pose it like that. For those not familiar with the Handmaid’s Tale, the tale ends both on a cliffhanger and on the reveal that the whole story the audience was reading was a series of audio tapes left behind by Offred the main character. Now, as an adult, I’m pretty sure Atwood had intended that ending to be hopeful. This idea that the country of Gilead became no more eventually, and that the story of Offred then becomes something studied by students in hopes that this would never happen again. After all Offred, was a woman, a handmaid, had Gilead still existed, the students and we the audience would have never heard her story. However, at the time my teacher pointed out to me while we spoke about the book one-on-one that the problem with knowing it was a series of audio tapes that students were listening to, means we don’t know what order the story actually happened in or what was removed. It made the narration itself unreliable. 

Unreliable narration is a fascinating story device to me, because it can spark the question of why it’s happening in the first place. Were-Ah and I had fun speculating on who was unreliable and why this might be happening, or if maybe we were wrong and everything was true. What information was withheld from us. I would like to believe Heaven’s Official Blessing took a narration device, and just did it very well. I think so anyways, but I recognize that unless you’re taught to notice it, you might not realize there is an unreliable narrator in your story.

[troglobite]

re: my lrb abt autistic processing (copied & pasted from my rambling abt it in the tags of the reblogs, then i didn't wish to be Perceived so i bailed and am posting abt it here instead)

i'm also now thinking abt something v interesting

okay so part of the reason i pursued an english degree was bc i think this process make literature analysis intuitive to me? i'm guessing

in hs we were being taught how to write higher level analytical essays, and all of the steps and assignments to learning it and parsing out the different pieces of planning and writing the essay were actively detrimental to my ability to do so

i was like STOP MAKING ME GO THROUGH A BOOK AND PULL OUT QUOTES AT RANDOM STOP MAKING ME WRITE MULTIPLE DIFFERENT THESIS STATEMENTS STOP IT!!!

bc i could finish reading a thing, be given a direction for a prompt, and then go okay here's my thesis statement and entire essay concept

and to the traditional teaching and order of operations that was Wrong, bc How Do You Have a Thesis Without Evidence? but i DID have evidence, i just had to go back and find it now that i'd coalesced it into an argument

i did the processing of details and evidence WHILE READING. it made no sense to me that you would finish reading something and NOT have an observation or argument to make abt its mechanics and purpose.

luckily my teacher was really neurodivergent-friendly, even if neither of us knew that's what it was at the time, and he went yeah no problem you can skip these assignments or do them differently. you can already do this just keep practicing i don't wanna mess w your process.

so that was v nice, highlight of my young education. is this bragging? i'm not gonna put this in the tags i'm making a separate post.

okay copied & pasted section over

but the reason this feels like bottom-up autistic processing is--

none of the other kids would have a Clear Idea abt what the book was already abt. the way it was often taught was more open-ended in our classes that year bc the point was to encourage us to read critically ourselves and learn to develop this skill. and so to them, they go into a book and are lost in the forest bc they can't see/understand the trees. they get to the end and are like What Just Happened. then they have to go back and start looking at all the trees again, now that they have a rough idea of the size and shape of the forest, and maybe the type of forest it is (rain, temperate, conifer, etc.)

so i'm not a genius master at this, but i feel like the only "big" concept i need is Story, or Book, or whatever. and then i walk in and immediately start encountering and identifying trees.

by the time i walk out the other side, i've already collected all of that information as part of my journey. so as soon as i look back, i have all the information to make sense of the Larger Context of the forest, and i go "oh i see. so THAT'S why this thing/pattern happened."

that's what feels bottom-up to me

i was honestly worried and gaslighting myself like "no that's definitely top-down" but it's not. if it was, i would need to what kind of book or story beforehand, etc., and have that to guide me. but i think that's counterintuitive, personally. i think it can become obvious what someone thinks, really, when reading their writing (given that they are/were in a temporal and geographical context close enough to your own to have reference points). then getting extra information abt that later is further helpful.

anyway there's my little bit of reflection for the day.

which unfortunately isn't terribly helpful w my ongoing crisis of identity at the moment bc it doesn't answer many questions, but it does sort of offer empirical evidence that that is something i'm good at, that my brain likes to do.

and also i want to own up to the fact that sometimes i finish reading something and i go "idk wtf to make of that. goddamn."

and that could be bc it was poorly written or was trying to say a lot. it could be bc it didn't mesh w my brain. it could be bc i need the act of writing abt the piece of writing to understand it (the way i have to talk out loud to understand my feelings abt something). it could be many things. but point being: i'm not trying to brag that i'm some magnificent genius, and i'm not trying to say this particular thing should be Easy for all autistic ppl. the way my brain works w words and stories is such that the bottom-up processing applies here and works well, but it's not the case for everyone.

i wish i hadn't spent the last minute or two typing that up bc i guarantee no one reads this and less self-deprecatingly, i'm tired of feeling like i have to anticipate a negative reaction to something and i'm tired of being responsible for someone misreading this and taking it as an insult if they weren't good at this same thing or assuming this makes either me or them not autistic bc we're not the same on this point

i just need the baseline understanding to be that NOTHING IS UNIVERSAL and ppl talking abt their own experiences is JUST THAT AND NOTHING MORE. it is also an invitation for ppl to relate. but y'know. anyway.

how and why am i managing the feelings of hypothetical ppl who probably won't even read this? i'm v tired.

[onlymexsarah]

Just my sort of place || Eddie Munson x Reader

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader

Summary: Eddie and Y/n are part of two different worlds. He is leader of the Hellfire club and she is head cheerleader, but when their world collide something unexpected happens.

Warning: spoiler of vol 2 in the hashtag and comments probably, my english, Eddie Munson :)

A/N: please don't hate me for the last senteces of the post, I love all of you and Eddie as well remember 😘💕 I needed to give him the love story I think he deserves AND we deserve, so enjoy a little Eddie's content :)

Eddie didn't know how his uncle had actually convinced him to go together to that fancy reasturant in town, he just remember him talking about a woman who stood him up for that night and the brief comment about enjoying the booking anyway, then Eddie had stopped listening, but at some point the old man had won, and now the metalhead was in front of his wardrobe, almost empty, trying to decide which t-shirt looked less worse than the others.

He wasn't type of shirt, suits or tie, indeed the fanciest cloth he owned was a three-years-old jeans vest to which missed the sleeves due Eddie's creativity. There wasn't almost any cloth in his wardrobe that hadn't been change by him.

Fuck off, I'm not going to meet anyone important anyway.

The boy took his usual black leather jacket, a black t-shirt of the Metallica and a pair of jeans. His uncle was as elegant as him and that made Eddie take a breath of relief; at least there would be two outsiders inside that place and not just one.

Like he expected that place screamed 'only rich people' even from the outside. Eddie gave his uncle a look widining his eyes ironically. "It'll be fun, com'on."

They sat at their table under the disapproval looks of the people around them; he recognized some of them as the parents of his schoolmates, surely wondering why Eddie The Freak was in some place like it.

"Look, isn't she the girl in the photo of your history class?" his uncle said pointing with his head somewhere at his left.

Eddie's eyes moved on their own, searching who his uncle was saying. Eddie had kept the photo of his 1985 history class hanging beside his guitar since the day they took it, and the reason was standying right in the middle of that restaurant.

"Y/n Henderson." he murmured looking at the girl astonished.

Y/n Henderson was captain of the cheerleaders team, first of all her classes and Dustin's sister, his little friend from the Hellfire Club. She even happened to be Eddie's terrible crush as well, not that he chose to or he would admit to anyone.

He had never been interest in basket or in any sports actually, but sometime if his campaigns with the Hellfire Club ended earlier, he would casually pass by the gym just in time to see her perfoming and cheering, or in the sunny days he would just enjoy the nice wheater and look for inspiration by standing beside the stands and look at the cheerleader's practices, not taking away his eyes from their captain. Eddie had even strated putting her in his stories, making the heroes falling for this beautiful siren with curly hair, or searching for a mysterious lost princess whose hair was said to be as shiny as the true gold. Sometime she was the key for the victory, sometime she was the curse for the failure.

The worst happened when her little brother started High School and joined his club; Dustin talked everyday about his sister's campaigns and about how much she had taught him playing D&D. Apparently she was the one who had introduced the wonderful world of D&D to him and his little friends, being the Daungeon Master almost everytime.

Y/n Henderson wasn't just the prettiest girl he had ever seen, but the stereotype of the cheerleader had been smashed into thousand pieces, because Y/n was smart and a nerd too, and that intrigued Eddie more than anything.

"She's pretty." commented his uncle looking him with the corner of his eyes.

His voice woke him from his thoughts, and he cleared his throat. "Yeah, too high in the school's social hierarchy for me anyway."

He hadn't kept that photo because she had been beautiful, and not because they had happened to be close either. That day their class had decided to dress with a style opposite of theirs, and while Eddie had struggled to find even just a shirt that would suit him, Y/n had walked up to him asking for his leather jacket and his bandana.

She had even imitated his usual pose for the photo, she had worn his own clothes, and she had looked damning beautiful in them.

"Eddie Munson!" a sweet voice called him making him look back toward the girl he was day-dreaming about.

He found two big eyes and a smiling face looking back at him. The metalhead smiled tilting his head slighty. "Hi, Henderson. Didn't know you worked here."

"This summer I found out that rich people are more incline to give you a bigger tip if you play nice and smile at them, so here I am." she shrugged keeping her smile on.

"Would you suggest me to tie my hair and wear a skirt then?" he asked ironical, regretting to have said it immediately.

With his surprise she laughed. "As long as you take care of your legs I don't think they woud notice. Anyway, what can I bring you?"

Eddie and his uncle ordered and with one last smile Y/n walked away toward the kitched with their order. "To me it didn't seem a problem her position in the hierarchy." noted his uncle smirking. "You should ask her math's lesson if you really want to graduate this year." Eddie let his uncle talk, not really thinking it was going to happen anyway.

***

"The usual for you, Munson. Humburger with extra ketchup and double burger." Y/n put the plate in front of him kindly.

He gave her his usual cocky smile. "Thank you, Henderson. You really are a sweetheart."

"As long as you pay for what you eat, Munson." she winked before walking toward her other clients.

Truth was, Eddie had started to go into that restaurant almost every week, using the money he made by giving guitar lesson at some kids he found. He couldn't help it, seeing Y/n had become a drug for him, the best one he had ever tried, but even the most dangerous.

How long would it be before he did something wrong or she would break his heart? Sure she was friendly and funny with him, but it wasn't like they had started to sit together at lunch or hanging out after school. She still sat with her group and him with his, but for now he enjoyed those moments where he could see her without their schoolmates around.

It was just an usual day of school when her professor stopped him and told him that if he wanted to graduate he had to get better in math. For a moment he wondered if the universe was toying with him. There was only one person he knew who was in the advanced class of math and never took a lower grade than A, and that happened to be exactly Y/n Henderson.

Eddie planned to ask her that night, when she would come to take Dustin home after their campaign. He wasn't like he was afraid of asking her to do so, he would have done anything to spend time together, but far now it had been perfectly fine admiring her from far away, without stepping inside her bubble and without breaking his.

He wasn't blind, actually he liked to think he was well self-aware of his own person, and he had seen how Y/n had always smiled at him in the hallways, or during lunch. How she could have asked anyone for the clothes and she still had chosen him, but he had always stopped his immagination there before it could go somewhere else.

Eddie wasn't sure if it would be good for their planets to crash together, they lived two differents lives, and doubted he would fit in hers as she would fit in his.

With a resigned breath he decided he would just have to wait and see. Maybe he was wrong, maybe she would say no.

The evening went on, his eyes sometime would stop on the little Henderson in front of him, looking at his so familiar curly hair. The game soon took him, and he forgot about everything. He played, he laughed, he screamed and he tricked. On his trone he was the God of his world. "There you go! Lets wait next time to see if Sir Moonclear had been said the truth about the Evil elf Queen or not."

He raised his eyes toward the door, noticing immediately the girl there. Y/n Henderson was standing at the door with her shoulder rested on the wall looking them playing with a smile.

"Henderson two, I think it's your bedtime." said Eddie amused. He walked toward the cheerleader who was wearing her uniform skirt and a gray sweatshirt. "Hello, Henderson one." he said grinning.

"Hello Supreme Master, did my brother used the trick I told him?" she asked smirking.

"Oh you mean the use of the Mage Hand to make a stalactite fall over my soldiers' head? Yes, I had to give him a bonus inspiration for that. Hadn't seen it coming." he rolled his eyes playfull. It was strange, sometime it looked like she used Dustin to play against him, to trick him and do things he would never expect. So he had started playing as well, making the tasks harder and trying to calculate every possible move. It was an unsaid thing, but he enjoyed it as much as he shouldn't have. "Uh, listen Henderson one. I would gladly and desperatly need help with my math class...could you, uh, help me?"

She blinked few time staring at him widining slightly her eyes. Eddie noticed proudly how her breaths had become a little deeper and he tried to hide a smirk with his hand.

"Sure. My place tomorrow after school? My mom is at work and my brother basically doesn't live at home anymore." she shrugged with a smile toward her brother who was taking his backpack and looked at them confused.

"It's perfect. See you tomorrow then, Henderson." Eddie gave her a smirk before walking away. Maybe he was going to enjoying those math lessons more than he thought.

***

"Why don't you take the place of Mss. McCall, clever Y/n?" he asked resting his chin on his hand looking the girl straight in the eyes.

He saw her blushing and smiling flustered keeping her eyes on the notebook on her desk. "Praises won't make me changing my mind about the excercises you have to do for next time, Munson."

"No, but maybe they'll do something else." he said smirking.

She hit his shoulder with the math book making him laugh. "I have never asked you why you come to the restaurant. It doesn't look like your sort of place. I mean, it's not mine either. I prefer cozy and warn place where you can eat on those amazing soft bench:"

He shrugged playing with his pencil. It had been a month now, she was helping him studying and for the first time in years of school he understood what he was doing. She explained it simply, without pretending from him to know everything and explaining the things he didn't understand patiently.

At first it was strange being in her room alone, the room of the head cheerleader, then it became like it made sense. It just did. They would talk about a lot of things, most of the time while they weren't studying about D&D.

"I hated you at the beginning. Dustin couldn't stop talking about how wonderful and amazing your campaigns are, and how it feels like a game for men when he's with you all. Jesus, I taught him everything he know and from one day to another he'd became 'Eddie there...Eddie here'." y/n had said laying on the floor looking at the ceiling.

"You hated me? That little butthead doesn't stop talking about how many things you put in your campaigns, or how much intricate your stories are that in the end everything has a reason. Mind-blowing he describe them. I'm actually jealous of you, Henderson one." he admited looking at her surprised. Y/N Henderson was jealouse of him?

"Of me?" she asked astonished smiling while resting herself on her elbows.

"Yes! You are such a great opponent, my lady. I'm doing my hardest to try and beat your campaigns, honestly it keeps me awake at night." he made her laugh, and it was the most amazing sight he had ever seen.

"You know, I think it's the waitress' fault. She's so nice to me, wherever she'd work it would be just my sort of place." his sweet smile mirrored hers this time.

He was living his best campaign so far. He had managed to find the lost princess with golden curly hair, the siren whose voice enchated all the men and brought them at the bottom of the ocean, welcoming death like a lover. He had managed to climb her tower, and now he was living the part of the story where the protagonist didn't know if what was happening was a beautiful love story, or the song of the siren that was bringing him below the dark water.

He sure wasn't a hero, but God damned him if he wouldn't take the chance to make the princess fall for the metalhead and live their beautifull love story.

In the end he would graduate and have Y/n Henderson beside him. 1986 was going to be his year.

[theycallmebecca]

Drabble: Twelve Years

In several of my Frank drabbles, I’ve hinted to the fact that I had a story idea that never got fully developed... and this still isn’t it, but it’s part of the idea haha. I’ll slowly get bits and pieces written over time haha.

Anyway, here is the @the-ce-horniest-book-club​ Spring Fling prompt for today which is “Old Love”

I some how kept this at 499 words.

Title: Twelve Years

Pairing: Frank Adler x female reader

Rating: PG

Warnings: n/a

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

Frank smiled as he listened to his niece talk about her classes.

Her needs as an advanced student had led to him returning to academics and becoming a professor again.

Plus, his job meant that she could attend the university practically for nothing.

"Who's that?" Mary asked as they turned the corner to his office.

Frank opened his mouth to say he didn't know, but then the woman turned to look at them.

His ex fiancé.

"Mary," he said. "Go to the conference room."

"But," the teenager started to argue.

"Go," he said firmly.

Mary let out a teenager like sigh and stopped into the conference room that was a few doors down from his office.

----

You hard heard them coming before they'd rounded the corner. You'd known it was Frank just from the sound of his voice.

You expected him to look older, especially since it had been twelve years since you'd seen him last. You hadn't expected him to age like fine wine.

He said nothing as he unlocked his office door and pushed it open. He motioned for you to enter first and closed the door behind himself.

"What are you doing here?" his voice tone was sharp and to the point.

"I just accepted a position in the English department," you explained. "I didn't know you worked here when I applied or, hell, even when I accepted the job."

"So how did you find out?" he asked, slightly less defensive, but still not friendly.

"The Humanities Department secretary," you replied. "She asked where I'd last taught and when I said Boston University, she mentioned you and your genius niece, which eliminate everyone else."

Frank nodded stiffly.

"I didn't want you to find out that I was here from someone else," you explained, after a moment. "I didn't this it was fair, considering."

Frank just nodded again.

----

He was being rude and he knew it, but he blamed the shock of seeing her again.

After all, she was the one person he had gone to before he'd left for Florida. He had asked her to come with him. But she'd said no.

"I don't blame you," he said, thinking and saying the words at the same time.

He really didn't. She had just gotten her job in the English Department and leaving would have risked her ability to get another position anywhere else.

Hell, he'd struggled to get this job. It had only been the situation with Mary that had gotten the Dean to even give him a chance.

"I've missed you," she said, softly. "A lot of time has passed..." she cleared her throat. "I'm divorced. He was another professor and why I left Boston. I have family here."

"I'm sorry," he said. He nodded towards the door. "It's just Mary and me. Always has been."

"I always knew you'd be a good dad."

Frank looked up at her and, for the first time in twelve years, felt his heart skip a beat.

[margoshansons]

Everyone’s predicting a “Kate figures out how to be Viscountess” storyline in S3, but what would that actually look like? I think she’d be immediately adept at running a household seeing as she already ran her own (albeit much smaller one)?

What else is there - hosting parties and stuff? Being rebuffed by other society women at tea parties because she’s an outsider? Violet breathing down her neck?

Ooooh okay! I know how this goes and ngl I've been kind of waiting for this.

There's a lot more to being Viscountess/wife of a man of peerage than anyone expects. Like Lady Danbury says of Daphne in s1 "She will not merely be in society, she will be leading it" that is what Kate is going to have to struggle with. Being Viscountess means that not only does she have to entertain the women and men who rebuffed her, but she actively has to go out of her way to maintain friendships with them.

Especially since after Edmund is born, Anthony basically goes full "dad mode" and kind of becomes a recluse? it's super funny, anyway.

We see the duties of a Viscountess/Duchess beyond managing books and a household in s2 when Violet is setting up the Aubrey Hall ball. It's knowing the members of society and how they consume their food, what music they prefer to listen to, how many dances you have to spare (i.e. when Bingley holds the Netherfield ball in P&P he practically had to dance every single round as a good host), making sure you have rooms for the women and men to retreat to, salvaging your reputation if-- say someone in your family decides to marry a member of the servant class or dishonor a lady in a carriage--there's a lot to being the lady of a household than anyone expects.

You're basically part time mom/wife, part-time event planner, part-time publicist, and part-time mind reader. Daphne is beloved as a Duchess because of her care for her staff, her love for her husband, and her penchant for putting on nice balls and reaching out to people who may need their help as well as saving people from scandal. Violet is beloved as Lady Bridgerton for doing the same thing, but especially because she goes out of her way to make sure everyone feels comfortable.

Kate needs to find her niche. She may be an expert on how to run household staff, and manage the finances of the family, but it's clear from the moment she steps into the conservatory that she has no idea how English society works. and why should she? The biggest adjustment for her will be learning how to lead Society, especially as the head of the most prolific family in the Ton.

But I also think that Kate has never had to throw a ball or a soiree before. She may take to it quite well, but I think she's a lot like Mia in the Princess Diaries, where she taught herself and Edwina everything she could about etiquette and proper manners, but executing it will be her hardest challenge.

And I'm sure having Violet there will only make her nerves worse, as much as I love her.

[hadtochangemyurlquick]

here’s 7.1k of Toni pining and Shelby and Toni being childhood friends and also far more character analysis of Rachel than I was expecting? also Marcus is real and I made him a gorgeous himbo. it’s based off that poem by @theycallmedizzy and you can find it here. lmk if you want a second chapter from shelby’s perspective, tho i literally just finished this one. like literally ten minute ago.

Mr. Williams finishes reading the poem and looks over his spectacles at the class. Yes, they’re spectacles, those kind of tiny thick ones that make his eyes too big because he’s much too old to be teaching.

It’s eight am on a Tuesday, Toni walked the three miles to school because she missed the bus only to walk into her shitty honors English class and hear the teacher reading a poem aloud to the class. Her poem. She’d sat down after a momentary pause and listened to him read the final damning stanza.

And then he looks at Toni.

He reads her essays right? What if he recognizes her writing voice? Is that a thing? Or maybe her handwriting or—

“Toni, I was just explaining to the class that whoever wrote this should submit it to the state literature festival,” Mr. Williams says, Toni almost sags against her chair. “I was hoping someone would come forward,” He turns back to the class, eyes hovering over Quinn and Monty, two of the more sensitive guys who sit in the back and ruin the curve for everyone. “But I’ll leave it on the board here,” he clacks it on with a magnet and Toni flinches, “and hopefully someone will come forward. Now onto today’s lesson.”

After class Martha goes up to the board and takes a picture of it, her eyes a little starry at the words and Toni grits her teeth.

“You have to admit it’s pretty,” Martha says. “Even you can’t deny that.”

“It’s dumb,” Toni says flatly, crossing her arms.

“Well I’m keeping it anyway, maybe someday someone will write a poem about me,” Martha says.

“How do you know it’s not about you?” Shelby asks coming out of nowhere and uninvited too. Toni glares at her, letting her open disdain shine through like sunshine through clouds after a gully washer.

“No guys notice me,” Martha informs Shelby sadly. “I bet Andrew wrote it for you.”

Shelby purses her lips and looks over the poem, “I doubt it. He’s more of a doer, I think. Besides, I’m sure that guys notice you, you went on a date with that boy Sam last month.”

Martha sighs and before she can launch into what a disaster that date was, Toni tightens her hands around her backpack.

“I’ll see you in science,” She tells Martha and manages to escape Shelby’s eyes burning at the back of her neck.

———

reasons not to kiss her

1.) this sort of love is not allowed. you are both too soft, and the world around you is all knives and chipped teeth

Toni had played about every sport she was allowed to growing up. Basketball was her favorite, but she loved beat it ball, the game she made up with the other kids in the neighborhood. It was basketball but without rules, devolving into fist fights within the first half. Nothing tasted better than her own bloody lip on a hot summer day. Not even the cool glass of lemonade Mrs. Blackburn always had ready when she ran all skinned knees to Martha’s telling her about how she beat guys two years older than her.

She got angry when she had to stop playing, moving to a different neighborhood. Apparently, Mrs. Blackburn had figured out that she wasn’t only getting her split lip from the older kids in the neighborhood.

The new foster parents were a little stricter, a little richer, and signed her up for youth soccer when she complained about how there was nothing to do without beat it ball.

Martha Blackburn would always be her person, but Toni didn’t expect to find her people so young. Dottie killed as goalie, and Becca’s sweetness made her defense all the better. But it was Shelby and Toni who were the dynamic duo. Toni had a never ending amount of energy as a midfielder and Shelby’s precision made her the perfect striker. It worked the same way every game, Becca would kick it to Toni, who got it to Shelby, who scored a goal. It got to the point that Becca didn’t even need to do much and the coach had to pull Toni aside to tell her to pass to the other girls too.

At the end of the season they sat together at the team party, wearing orange slice smiles. With sticky fingers they held hands and Toni kinda wondered how someone’s eyes could be so green.

Toni doesn’t remember why Shelby’s parents were so angry about them holding hands, but she knows Mr. Goodkind talked to her foster parents and Toni was off to a different home, in a different district, and she lost even Martha for a few months.

———

At lunch everyone’s talking about that fucking poem. Martha sent it around to the whole school and Leah is discussing its merits with Rachel and Nora. Even they don’t seem bored with the topic, though Nora is sure Quinn didn’t write it.

“It could be Monty,” Leah says. “I wouldn’t have thought he had an eye for this stuff.”

“I don’t think it’s Monty,” Rachel says. She looks at Nora, “C’mon, you know what I’m talking about, right?”

“What?” Nora asks.

“I mean it smells like Anna Akhmatova had a baby with Adrienne Rich,” Rachel says.

“Who had a baby with who?” Martha asks.

“Please,” Fatin says. “You’re not exactly the world’s leading expert on free form poetry.”

“Uh, I know when something’s written by a girl,” Rachel says. “I bet you fifty bucks some closet case wrote this.”

Everyone looks at Toni. “You caught me,” Toni deadpans.

“Rachel’s right,” Nora says. “A girl definitely wrote this. Toni, do you know anyone?”

Toni glares at her. “I’ll shake the lesbian phone tree and see what comes out.”

“Well, could it be Regan?” Martha asks. “Maybe she wants to—”

“It’s not fucking Regan,” Toni grabs her books and stalks out, kicking a chair randomly strewn around away as she did.

She hears Shelby sit down just as she leaves, “What’s got her madder than a baptized cat?” Shelby asks and Toni rolls her eyes.

———

2.) no one ever taught you how to love. your war paint and scarred hands could never hold her like she deserves

The worst of it was that Shelby was gentle. Her hands were warm and soft around Toni’s callouses, and there was a crinkle between her eyebrows as she focused on Toni’s hands. No, the worst of it was that Shelby didn’t let go of Toni’s hands when she finished, kept holding onto them as she met Toni’s eyes.

“Well?”

Toni swallowed hard, “I’m not gonna apologize.”

Shelby sighed, her thumb traced little circles around Toni’s hands. “I know today ain’t easy for you.” Toni scoffed and looked away. “But you know you were pickin' a fight. Andrew promised to leave you alone.”

Toni ripped her hands away and jumped from the bench of the locker room. “What the fuck do you know? You weren’t fucking there.”

Shelby’s calm only made Toni’s anger redder, “You ain’t denying it.”

“Why the fuck are you dating him? He’s a self-satisfied little asshole who just wants a little trophy girlfriend to—”

“Toni,” Shelby cut her off sharply and got to her feet, meeting Toni’s eyes.

“You’re not denying that either,” Toni spat.

She could’ve screamed at the hypocrisy. She wanted to scream. She wanted to pound her fists against the walls and bleed all over the bandages Shelby wrapped around her knuckles. She wanted to hurt, to make Shelby hurt. She wanted everyone to see and feel how hurt she was, and hurt them with that hurt. Finally level the playing field.

“Andrew is my business,” Shelby said. “Not yours.”

“He becomes my business when you—”

“When I what?” Shelby asked.

Toni looked at her hands, “Never mind.”

Shelby sighed, “Martha’s helping you move in today, right? Shel’ll be there the whole time?”

“Don’t pretend you give a shit.”

“Of course I care. The last time you lived with your mom you didn’t eat for a week.”

“I was five, not fifteen,” Toni said. “And seriously, stop pretending you give a shit.”

She shoulder checked Shelby as she walked out and winced at the sound of Shelby hitting the gym lockers. Her hands still sting where Andrew’s teeth had scrapped them.

———

Regan approaches Toni during science, her eyes serious. Martha straightens, and Toni does her best not to make eye contact.

“It’s not mine,” Regan says.

“Yeah duh,” Toni mutters.

Regan frowns, “I just—I didn’t want you to—”

“You made it perfectly clear what you want,” Toni says.

Regan sighs and leaves and Toni regrets it.

“Shelby thinks it’s Marcus,” Martha tells her. Toni blinks up at her and Martha nods. “She thinks he wrote it for me.”

“Martha, that kid is dumber than a box of rocks,” Toni says.

Martha furrows her brow, “Maybe he has hidden depths.”

“If you think it’s him ask him out,” Toni says.

“Shelby thinks it’s him,” Martha is quick to correct. “But he doesn’t even know who I am.”

Toni rolls her eyes. Marcus had been in love with Martha since the ninth grade. They had gotten placed as lab partners and he literally didn’t take his eyes off her the entire time. Every time there was a dance he would always look like he was about to say something, shoot his shot, when Martha would loudly proclaim she couldn’t wait to go with her friends.

Toni would’ve pulled the guy aside and told him to grow a pair, but a guy who’s not brave enough to go after what he wants wasn’t good enough for her Marty, not by a long shot.

“Rachel still thinks a girl wrote it,” Martha says.

“Maybe Rachel wrote it,” Toni mutters.

Martha’s eyes light up.

———

3.) no one has ever loved you this full surely you would drown in it all

Being a lifeguard was the worst. It was super boring, the pay was shit, and also Toni would probably get someone killed. Like, they pretended she was CPR certified but she absolutely had no idea how to do it. She went to some hour long course, slept through it, took a test that was just: should you kill people? And then they wrote some bullshit on some papers about a three week long set of classes.

But Shelby was tanned and golden looking and on their shifts they’d text back and forth about which kids they were betting on to win sharks and minnows. Tweenage boys in all their adolescent infancy would gaze open mouthed at Shelby and Toni alike but Shelby was the only one who let them down gently. Toni would ruin them for girls forever with something enough to cut through even the thickest skin.

On the fourth of July the pool paid for fireworks and Toni found a blanket and Shelby found her and they sat watching the reflections of the lights together. Shelby rested her head on Toni’s shoulder, all gentle, like she was afraid Toni would spook.

“I know this ain’t much of a holiday for you,” Shelby said. “But thank you for spending it with me.”

She had her hand on the blanket, splayed out like she was waiting for Toni to take it, there in front of everyone. Toni imagined a world in which she did.

———

“Yeah it’s not me,” Rachel says. “I wish I could write that good.”

Which is such bullshit because Toni knows Rachel could say well if she wanted to. Rachel’s weird inferiority complex about Nora pisses off Toni to no end. Nora’s the smart one, Rachel will be the first to say, and Rachel’s the athletic one. But Nora has a six minute mile and Rachel has perfect pitch so Toni hates them both.

“Maybe it’s Dot,” Toni suggests and Rachel, Nora, and Martha snicker.

Out of all of them, Martha’s the best driver, but they always end up in Rachel’s car after school anyway.

“Most of the school seems to think it’s by Andrew,” Nora says. Toni’s fists clench.

“Yeah,” Rachel rolls her eyes, “I’m sure he would love to take the credit. C’mon Toni, you don’t know any lesbians who could’ve written this?”

“You’re a lesbian too,” Toni says. “You don’t know any?”

“I don’t have a life outside of the pool,” Rachel says, “and none of them have picked up a book since Hop on Pop.”

“Regan says it wasn’t her,” Martha cuts in helpfully. “But maybe it’s another kid in theatre. Shelby says—”

“Oh my god,” Toni grits out. “What is everyone’s deal with her anyway? Why is everyone still obsessed with her? She’s just another basic Jesus bitch.”

The car goes quiet and Toni wishes she could melt into her seat cushion.

“I didn’t mean that,” Toni says.

“Except you did,” Martha snaps.

Toni winces.

“What’s your deal with her?” Rachel asks. “You guys were fine last year.”

“Quinn says there’s a poetry club,” Nora says. “Maybe it’s someone there?”

No one takes the bait and they don’t talk the rest of the way.

———

4.) she belongs in a museum, and you are merely here to gaze. look around you, all the signs scream ‘do not touch’

“Shelby?”

Toni grabbed the shoulder of the girl and pulled her away from Marcus. Shelby was bruised lips and ruined make up and Toni took her by the hand. Thank god Martha wasn’t here, thank god Andrew wasn’t here, thank god Marcus looked just as trashed.

“Toni?” Shelby sorta stumbled, her ankle twisting painfully on her heel and Toni steadied her.

Shelby could do a cartwheel in six inch heels.

“I’m gonna get you home, okay?” Toni called over the music.

Shelby didn’t really respond, just leant into Toni as she led her away and outside. The party had spilled into the backyard and front yard some, the cops probably already on their way, but everyone was too fucking hammered to notice them making their way out.

Shelby’s house was only about a twenty minute walk but it was cold and Toni was only wearing her basketball shorts and her mom’s jacket that she promptly put over Shelby’s shoulders.

“Are you still—” Shelby swallowed hard, “You’re still living with your mom?”

“Mostly with Martha,” Toni said.

“Martha’s great,” Shelby said. “She’s so pretty it makes my eyes hurt.”

“One of our finest,” Toni grunted as Shelby nearly fell on her heels again.

“She could be a model,” Shelby told her. “We should get waffle house.”

“Shelbs, we’re nowhere near a waffle house.”

“What was Becca’s order? At waffle house?”

Toni sighed, looping an arm around her. “I dunno.”

“Neither do I,” Shelby said.

“I’m sorry, Shelby,” Toni said.

Shelby shook her head and stopped right there, circling her arms around Toni and pressing her into a hug. Toni closed her eyes, holding her back as tightly as she dared.

“Oh, Shelby, I’m so fucking sorry.”

———

“Day two!” Mr. Williams calls. He taps the poem again, “I will investigate the handwriting if the poet doesn’t come forward by Friday. I know it’s someone in one of my classes.”

His eyes narrow as he takes them all in and his eyes don’t linger on Toni. Not even for a moment.

There’s a part of her that wants to march up to the front of the room and write her name down, make eye contact with everyone who never even considered her before. But no one expects shit from her, and even if he does go over the handwriting he won’t really be able to pin it on her. He might not even bother checking to see if it matches.

Toni tries not to jump when Marcus takes the seat in front of her during quant lit. It’s not like they have assigned seating but everyone sticks to the same seats anyway. Marcus won’t get shit for it though, perks of being the quarterback.

“So, listen,” he scratches the back of his head and Toni rolls her eyes at him. “I know we aren’t really friends but I—um.”

“Marcus,” Toni says.

“I wanna ask Martha out,” Marcus rushes out. “She’s like the nicest, smartest, coolest girl in the school and like her eyes are out of this world radical.” Radical? “And I would take her somewhere nice like Olive Garden. Or Cheesecake Factory? And pay for it, and open all the doors for her, and I’d carry her books to class—”

“On your date? This is happening during school?” Toni asks.

His eyebrows furrow as he tries to connect the dots. Football players.

“Oh no! I meant like, after, if she wants me to,” He says. “Can I?”

“Can you what?”

“Can I ask her out?”

Toni blinks at him. “What?”

“My buddy said if you want to get with a girl you get close to the best friend first, and I figured I’d ask you for your blessing because that’s what they do in old fashioned stuff right?” He bounces up in down in his seat. “Can I? Or like, do you wanna give me your blessing?”

She feels like she’s having an aneurysm.

Listen, Marcus having feelings for Martha is one thing. Everyone on the planet who’s ever met Martha falls a little in love with her. That’s kinda just how she operates. Toni narrowly avoided that pitfall by being lucky enough to know her since she was five, but it was a tough time. But Marcus was never gonna act on it. Marcus can’t—he’s the quarterback.

It’s basic math, Marcus is a six foot five football player with shoulders wide enough to bench press the Subaru Forrester Toni’s legally required to buy when she turns thirty-two. He’s got that all American boy smile that shows of perfectly white teeth, and dark hair that sweeps in front of his eyes. His face looks like it was sculpted out of marble, like literally he looks like some sort of roman god, except if that roman god volunteered at the humane society on the weekends and called his mom Mami.

Martha is a res girl who’s best friend is the dyke with anger issues. And like yeah, she’s stupid pretty, but Marcus has exclusively dated varsity cheerleaders since the seventh grade.

So yeah, even if Marcus may have feelings for Marty, everyone fucking does, and there’s a host of reasons why she doesn’t have a date to every dance and a new guy every week. And most of them are the cliche high school movie hierarchy sort.

“It’s really none of my business, man,” she says.

“Dude, it’s totally your business,” Marcus says. He leans closer, “you two are like sisters right? What do I gotta do to prove I’m not gonna hurt her? I’ll do your math homework for a month, no two months.”

A thought occurs to Toni and it’s a terrible one. But when has that ever stopped her?

“You’re in my honors English class right?”

Marcus’s face screws in, “Uh, yeah. But I don’t think you want me doing your homework in there, I’m like totally failing.”

“I have a better idea.”

———

5.) she touches you like youre fragile, and if you break you wont be able put yourself together again

Dot was asleep which was Toni’s first indication that something was deeply wrong. The second was that Shelby wasn’t. She was definitely trying her darnedest, but Toni could tell she was awake. Awake in her arms.

Toni shifted, just enough to let Shelby know she was awake too. The movie was some horror flick, something dumb and flashy and almost muted it was so quiet. It was the only thing rated R that they could all agree on. Dot’s house was the only place they were allowed to watch anything rated R when they were still thirteen, so it was all they watched there.

She felt Shelby shift up, so her head rested on Toni’s chest, shifted until her lips met Toni’s clavicle.

Toni wondered if she’d die.

Shelby went up instead of down, pressing kisses up the length of Toni’s neck, soft barely there things that made Toni’s breath catch as she watched Dot snore on the couch next to them.

Toni’s hands moved to the inside of Shelby’s thighs and they stared there, tracing delicate patterns that only made Shelby curl closer.

“I think you’re probably the most beautiful girl I ever saw,” Shelby whispered.

“I—”

“I’m not done.”

Toni’s mouth clamped shut.

“I think about you all the time,” Shelby whispered. “Even when I—”

“Shelby,” Toni warned. Shelby pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“You’re right,” Shelby said.

Neither of them slept that night.

———

Toni walks into class three minutes late with Mr. Williams, and takes her seat with a sulk.

“He still won’t let me redo that paper,” Toni mutters to Martha who’s eyes are wide.

“Toni, Marcus just—” She nods her head at the poem where Mr. Williams is studying it too.

“Marcus Gonzales?” Mr. Williams asks.

Marcus gets to his feet.

“You wrote this?”

“Yessir.”

“This poem right here?”

“Yessir.”

Mr. Williams blinks and takes off his spectacles, setting them down on the desk. “We’ll talk after class. I should hope everyone has a copy of—”

“I wrote it for Martha,” Marcus doesn’t sit down and the entire class stares at him.

“—Franny and Zooey and I would like you all to turn to page 52. Begin by annotating—”

“Martha, can I take you out on a date?” Marcus asks.

“—this first section, and on to page 64. Remember what Seymour serves as in—”

Martha blushes hard and glances at Toni who smiles before she looks back at Marcus in all his golden boy 6’5” glory.

“Um, okay,” she mutters out and he grins.

“Cool.” Marcus finally sits and gives Toni a thumbs up. She rolls her eyes.

“—this story and compare that to his roles in the other parts of the work we’ve read.”

“I told you it was for you, girl,” Shelby says on Martha’s other side. “People always have a way of surprising you.”

———

6.) she is all bubblegum skies and chapped stick kisses, and you cannot watch the love run out of another persons eyes

They were all a little bit slap happy by the end of the night. A little bit drunk, a little bit high, and laughing far too hard at one another.

“I’m scared,” Shelby told them, still grinning wider than any pageant smile.

“Girl, you picked dare,” Fatin said.

“I did,” Shelby bit her lip. “But all y’all dared Leah to do was finish the vodka.”

“That was—that was bad vodka,” Leah slurred from her position on Dot’s lap.

“But now we’re out of vodka,” Martha sang. “You picked dare.”

“I’ll go with you,” Toni got to her feet, surprised when they were more steady than she assumed they’d be. “Two chairs right?”

“Alright,” Shelby said. “And you’ll hold my hand?”

“Sure princess,” Toni rolled her eyes.

It was an office supply place, probably. The parking lot had this killer decline, and it was one of those spring nights where nothing could really ruin anything. Not forever.

The rolling chairs were kinda gross, left there but not yet picked up by the garbage men. They had to do a special pickup for that, which costed extra. No one in the office had done it for the weeks the girls had been going there after parties.

“Be careful,” Nora urged.

“Don’t fall,” Rachel suggested.

“Hold on, I’m not recording yet,” Fatin said. “Okay now go.”

They pushed off in their rolling chairs, holding hands, and sped down the decline laughing as they barely managed to hold on and steer at the same time.

Toni went flying as she bumped into a patch of grass and for some reason, Shelby went flying with her, landing on top. Toni grunted, but she wasn’t in pain, not really.

They met eyes.

“Sorry,” Shelby said. She didn’t sound sorry.

“You okay?” Toni asked.

Shelby smiled, this real soft thing, Toni wondered what it’d taste like.

“Fuck yeah bitches! I’m so putting that on snapchat!” Fatin screamed and Shelby pulled away, turning white.

“God if this is you in in freshman year, I’m terrified of you as a senior,” Toni called back.

Shelby’s hand slipped out of her’s and Toni tried very very hard not to overthink it.

———

“So I’ve been thinking,” Leah said. Toni took her gym bag out of her locker, pretty much the only thing she kept in there.

“Oh no.”

“Rachel was right about that poem being written by a girl,” Leah continued. “Which meant Marcus lied. And Marcus would never do that unless someone gave him permission to take credit. And since Marcus lied so he could ask Martha out that means the person who wrote the poem wanted Martha to be happy.”

Toni swallowed hard and tried not to fumble with the lock, stumbling with it.

“Toni,” Leah walked over to her. “You need to face the facts: Shelby’s into you.”

Toni blinked, “What?”

“She wrote that whole poem for you, don’t tell me you don’t see it. It’s about you!”

“She—” Toni stopped and furrowed her brow, finally making eye contact with Leah, “You think she wrote that poem for me?”

Leah nodded, “And she let Marcus take the credit. Listen, I know I’m right. I’ve been thinking about it for ages. Whatever fight the two of you had—you need to get over it. She’s into you, Toni. She’s been into you.”

“You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about,” Toni told her. “Seriously, fuck you Leah and fuck off. This is none of your fucking business.”

“You aren’t denying it,” Leah crowed. “Shelby likes you.”

“No she fucking doesn’t!” Toni spat at her. “She fucking hates me! She didn’t write that poem Marcus did! For Martha!”

Leah’s brow furrowed, “But… but you wanted her to. Didn’t you?”

Toni looked away.

“Shelby’s actually straight, isn’t she?” Leah asked. “Fuck Toni.”

“I’m happy for Martha,” Toni said, and marched away.

———

7.) if you jump, she might catch you, and then youd have to watch as she tumbled through the dark

“What if we ran away?” Shelby asked, which was Toni’s third indication that the punch was spiked.

The first two were her arms wrapped around Toni’s waist, swaying in the soft breeze to the distant music of Junior prom.

“Oh yeah?” Toni asked. “Where’d we go?”

“Peru,” Shelby said. “Or LA, or New York or—” Shelby sort of trailed off, losing her thought halfway through it.

“Our parents,” Toni pointed out. She’d moved in with Martha a few months ago but her mom had taken it as a wakeup call, promising to get her shit back together as soon as she could. Toni couldn’t help but believe her, even if it put her in stasis.

“Right,” Shelby sounded cold, “Our parents.”

“Are things worse with them?” Toni asked.

“No,” Shelby said. “The same, really. They’ve lightened up since—since Becca. Have you heard from your mom?”

“Every week or so,” Toni said. “And if you ever need a break you know—“

“Martha is happy to have me,” Shelby finished.

Toni smiled and pulled away enough to meet Shelby’s eyes, her hands slid from behind Shelby’s neck to either side.

“Did I tell you you look beautiful tonight?” Toni asked.

“You did,” Shelby said.

“Can I say it again?”

“You can.”

“You look beautiful tonight.” Shelby closed her eyes and Toni tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “You’re gonna get out, you know that right?”

Shelby nodded, leaning into Toni’s hand.

Later, Toni will learn that was one of two lies Shelby told that night.

———

Martha gets home at 11:30, exactly when Marcus promised, and Toni smiles as her sister collapses backwards into her bed.

“Toni,” she actually giggles, giggles like a little school girl. “It was amazing.”

“Where’d you go?” Toni asks.

“Olive Garden, I think he was trying to win points with you,” Martha says.

“As he should,” Toni nods.

“He was the perfect gentleman,” Martha swoons. She rolls onto her stomach and looks at Toni and oh god, Toni knows that look. “He did tell me something about you, though.”

“Oh yeah? How I’m better in quant lit than him?” Toni asks.

“He told me you wrote the poem,” she says.

Toni looks away, “Okay, and?”

“You told me you were over Regan,” Martha says.

“It’s complicated,” Toni decides. “And whatever. I wrote it awhile ago anyway.”

“Have you thought about submitting it to that contest Mr. Williams was talking about?” Martha asks.

“Can we go back to talking about your date with Prince Charming?” Toni says. Martha acquiesces, she’s too damn giddy to do anything else.

———

8.) her gaze is too gentle. you will not be the one to tell her that not everything can be fixed with a smile

“Toni,” Dot began, and Toni could tell she was looking at her. “Toni, is Shelby—is she gay?”

Toni snickered, “Dot, Shelby is possibly the biggest straight girl in our school. Maybe our state. She’d sooner give herself a buzzcut than she would ever even kiss a girl."

“Andrew said Shelby got a job as a counselor at this church camp—Guiding Light—in Plano,” Dot said. “I wanted to find the address so I could write to her and it’s a conversion camp.”

The breath left Toni’s body.

“What?”

“And I got to thinking,” Dot said. “About what a mess she was after Becca died this year. Ignoring us, going to all those parties, signing up for a crazy number of pageants. Hell, it was only once you two started talking that she talked to us again.”

“Stop it, Dot.”

“Toni is Shelby gay?”

“Dot,” Toni said.

“Because if she’s gay, if she’s not there as a camp counselor—Toni, did you know about this?”

“Of course not! Jesus!” Toni said. She jumped to her feet and started to pace, “Jesus Christ. Oh my god.”

“Toni is Shelby gay?”

Toni looked at Dot and Dot sighed, her entire body sagging.

“What do we do?” Toni asked.

Dot, her solid, steady, friend since fucking youth soccer was silent.

“Dot, what do we do?”

“Dot, what the fuck do we do?”

———

Shelby finds her before school, Toni smoking like she hasn’t since ninth grade when Bernice gave her a stern lecture about lung cancer. It made Toni cry, actually. Not because it was so stern but because Martha and Toni had been separated for three years and Bernice still cared enough to get angry with her. She promised then and there to stop, and each drag she took now makes her feel like she’s committing treason.

“Smokin’ kills,” Shelby tells her, like they didn’t all go to Dot’s dad’s funeral last year.

Toni takes another drag, just to watch Shelby roll her eyes.

“How’d Martha’s date go last night?” Shelby asks.

Toni glares, “Seriously? You avoid me all year and now you’re asking about Martha’s date?” Shelby looks away. “It went fine. Whatever.”

“I just—I was surprised Marcus wrote that poem is all.”

“You literally said multiple times you thought it was him,” Toni says.

“I know, I know but—”

“Still holding out hope for Andrew?” Toni sneers. “Marcus may not be the sharpest tool in the shed but he cares about Martha. Even a fucking idiot could write a half decent poem if they had someone worth writing about.”

Shelby meets her eyes and Toni’s breath catches.

“Know a lot about poetry, Toni?”

Fuck fuck fuck.

Toni flicks the only half used cigarette away. “I have to go to class,” She says, aware it’s just about the worst thing she can do.

Shelby doesn’t even need the last word, she’s aware she’s already won.  

———

9.) she is so good. she is so good, and you cannot ruin one more good thing

It hadn’t been the first time Toni found her mom overdosed on the couch, but it’d been the most terrifying. Toni had waited in the school parking lot for a pick up for twenty minutes before Shelby had offered her a ride.

When they trooped inside, after having to use the key Tamera kept tucked away in a loose brick, her mom had been passed out on the couch. And the stupid thing had been that Toni had known her mom hadn’t been doing great. Like she’d known Tamera had lost her job, and was close to losing the car, that the pain in her back had been getting worse again from stress. Toni had known that.

But for some stupid, naive reason, Toni had never thought she’d pull this, go back to who she was.

Her tolerance was low, the doctors had told her, because she’d been clean for so long. She hadn’t realized it and had taken more than she could handle.

Shelby had taken the three of them to the hospital, helped carry Toni’s drooling mother into the ER, and held Toni’s hand until the other girls showed up, who she texted to come.

Shelby had been there when the police and social services came to talk to her about going back into foster care. Shelby had never left her side.

Toni couldn’t help but contrast that to the Shelby she saw now. The Shelby who showed up for senior year was barely christian, barely anything, just sort of blank and empty and waiting to grow up so she could have daughters that'd also wait to grow up so that they could have daughters that’d also wait to grow up so that they could have daughters that’d also

Shelby didn’t even look at her, for the first week of senior year she didn’t even look at Toni. She talked with Martha in that faux friendly way, she passed off on lunch invitations to do school work and Toni felt like she was going insane.

Sometimes she would just stare at the back of Shelby’s head in English class, writing whatever gibberish came to mind, and not listening to Mr. Williams at all. Just stare, for forty-five minutes, at a girl who wouldn’t even make eye contact, Toni’s pencil moving rapidly as she barely even glanced at the words her hands produced.

On the last day of the semester Toni finally looked away and came to two realizations:

a. Her mother was never getting better. Not really. b. Toni had written P E R U over forty times in her notebook.

As quietly as she could she tore the page out, and maybe about fifteen pages behind it, filled with similar drivel and recycled them at the end of class.

When the next semester started the seats were changed and something she’d written that she barely remembered was on the board.

Her mother was still in rehab.

———

Toni watches Marcus carry Martha’s backpack to class and watches as Martha giggles at him, argues with him. She is literally so happy it makes Toni’s heart burst.

“Shelby’s quite the matchmaker, huh?” Fatin asks.

Toni looks at her.

“Leah told me,” Fatin explains.

Toni rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, that’s what I said too,” Fatin says. “Leah’s good at noticing things but putting the pieces together is not her strong suit. So I called Dorothy.”

This makes Toni’s shoulders tense and Fatin wraps an arm around them.

“Dorothy didn’t want to talk but what she didn’t say was enough.” Fatin sighs, “I’m all for a little drama but this is cutting into my me time.”

“What going from twenty-four hours a day to twenty-three and a half?” Toni asks.

“God forbid,” Fatin nods sagely. “I didn’t know you could write.”

“I can’t.”

“Clearly not.”

Toni slips out from under her arm, and follows Martha into class. Mr. Williams glares as she comes in and Toni realizes if Marcus came clean to Martha he definitely came clean to Mr. Williams. At least the poem is off the board.

When he passes out papers from a recent essay her’s has a “see me after class” sticker that makes Toni slide down in her seat. Martha doesn’t even notice enough to give her an odd look because she and Shelby are yukking it up about the quarterback.

When everyone files out she hangs back and he looks at her, over his spectacles.

“I’m disappointed,” he says at last.

Toni scoffs.

“You write essays based off spark notes, you never participate, and half the time you don’t even do the homework. But you write this.” He slides the crumpled paper over his desk, her poem shining back at her. “So all I can conclude is that you’re lazy.”

Yeah, obviously.

“Why did you have Marcus tell everyone he wrote it?” Mr. Williams asks.

“So he could ask out Martha.”

“He didn’t need to have written the poem to do that,” Mr. Williams says.

“Can I go?” Toni asks.

“I want to submit this poem to a contest, I want you to start trying in this class, and this,” he hands her a slip of paper with about twenty sets of numbers on it, “is a list of Dickinson poems I want you to read by next week. Pick at least three to write me at least a page about. Single spaced.”

“What?” Toni asks, “You can’t make me do that.”

“I know half the kids in this class write off spark notes, I can easily have them all—including you—fail. So yes, yes I can actually.” He takes off his spectacles and Toni glares at him. “You’re a smart kid, Toni. You’ve got a talent for this.”

Toni shakes her head, “I’m a one hit wonder.”

“You know Britney Spears said the same thing after Baby One More Time.”

“That’s not true,” Toni says.

“Yeah,” Mr. Williams says. “Because she kept working at it.”

And Toni takes the slip of paper with the numbers on it, and marches to her next class and he watches her the whole way, not bothering to put on his stupid spectacles.

———

10.) you will not watch her crumble under the weight of your sins. she is too light, too breathless to be caught up in the dizziness of your heart

Dot didn’t invite them all to the funeral but they came anyway, even Shelby who Toni knew had been waffling back and forth.

Some of his army friends showed up, a doctor or two, and Mateo—the hot nurse Dot steadily ignored. It was a small and quiet service, and the seven of them sat towards the back, holding steady for her.

There was too much on Dot’s shoulders, there always had been, but she didn’t look any freer now that the burden was lifted. She just looked scared, small, and sad.

Toni couldn’t help but wonder if that was what she’d look like, if she got the call about her mom. It was a terribly selfish thought but who could blame her?

Shelby’s hands interlocked with hers, in broad daylight, and stayed there for the entire day. When Toni met her eyes she saw pure terror reflected back at her.

God, were they really only seventeen?

———

Rachel is complaining at lunch about owing Nora five bucks, how she was so sure some closet case wrote the poem but it’s no surprise Nora got it right.

Fatin and Leah don’t contribute and Martha probably wouldn’t have either except she was eating lunch with Marcus, they had found their own little table and were smiling at one another.

“They’re certainly cute together,” Shelby says, glancing back at Martha and Marcus.

“I say it’s weird they have the same name,” Rachel says.

“Says the girl who dated a guy named Raymond,” Nora says.

Rachel throws a straw wrapper at him, “That was a phase and you know it.”

“Marcus is sweet,” Shelby says. “If anyone deserves someone sweet it’s Martha.”

“Don’t you think he’s a little,” Leah trailed off and they all looked at her. “You know a little…”

“Spit it out, Leah,” Rachel says.

“Like the porch lights on but no one’s home?” Leah says.

“Martha is smart enough for the both of them,” Toni says. “And thank god because I was sick of doing his homework in quant lit.”

“That’s literally the easiest math class there is,” Fatin says and Toni shrugs.

“What’s that?” Shelby asks, pointing at the yellow slip sticking out of Toni’s binder.

“Some extra credit stuff, from Williams. Apparently I’m not doing so hot in that class,” Toni says.

Rachel leans way over from the other end of the table. “What is that, Dickinson?”

“It’s a list of numbers,” Shelby says. “Why would it be Dickinson?”

“All of Dickinson’s poems were numbered. It was only after she died that other people named them,” Nora says.

“And Nora said it so you know it’s true,” Rachel smirks.

“Join the fucking club,” Dot says to Toni. “I don’t know why y’all didn’t take non-honors English twelve with me. We just sit around and talk about whatever football game was on the most recently.”

“Well I’ve never liked football so.” Toni gets up, “I’ve gotta talk to my science teacher. I’ll see you guys after school.”

“I’ll go with you,” Shelby smiles and Toni clenches her jaw. “Ms. Roberts said I needed to rework my psych paper.”

“See you guys,” Rachel says and as they leave she’s arguing with Dot about why football is stupid and Toni can feel Fatin’s eyes on her all the way out.

———

reasons to kiss her

1.) she loves you, and her eyes are closed, and didnt your mother ever tell you not to leave a good thing waiting

Toni hated the magnet program kids at her middle school. Like everyone not in their cluster she found them annoying, rich, and privileged as fuck. They only hung out with each other and it was clear they’d never give—

———

“Toni?”

The stair well is empty, it’s the short cut through the language hallway and no one goes there during lunch.

Toni is working hard on ignoring Shelby but is forced to turn around when Shelby stops halfway up.

“Ms. Roberts doesn’t need me to rework my psych paper.”

Toni stares at her.

Shelby takes a step up, one step closer to Toni.

“I had hoped maybe you wrote it for Regan,” Shelby says.

“No such luck,” Toni croaks out.

“That’s a lot of reasons not to kiss someone,” Shelby says. “You’d think if you really shouldn’t kiss someone you’d only need the one.” She takes another step up, until they’re only separated by a few inches.

“I guess,” Toni says.

“Are you really gonna keep me waiting?” Shelby says.

Toni blinks, “You mean you still—”

“I have to do everything myself,” Shelby says.

She kisses her.

[buckys-black-dress]

a fine line, part two

a/n: here she is, our promised part two of afl!!! honestly i love writing this series and it has almost all my fav things in one fic, so yup. anyways, again, thank you for reading/sharing/liking my work !! luv u all, x -ali

wc: 5.8k !!!

-

The tension in the room was palpable.

And although no one knew you two were working together by verbal confirmation, it was clear from the way you were both reacting.

Bucky was rarely this quiet, so it was obvious what was going on.

Also the fact that you seemed frozen in place.

“Y/N? Everything okay?” Wanda’s soft voice filtered in next to you.

You nodded, trying to break away from James’ gaze.

“Mhm, who’re you working with?” You ask, moving away from the topic at hand.

“Oh, you know Professor Vision? He teaches Comp Sci.” Wanda is now visibly blushing, making you curious.

“Ooh, does Wanda have a crush?” Natasha chimes in as she sidles up next to you two. “I got Banner. How about you, Y/N?”

“I uhh, I got... Barnes.” You mumble under your breath.

“Who? I didn’t catch what you said there.” Natasha’s eyebrows furrowed.

“I... I got Dr. Barnes.” You said, not even daring to look up at your friends.

“...Oh. Well, that should be... interesting...” Wanda comments.

“...Yeah. It’ll probably be fine!” Natasha tries to comfort you, but there’s a stirring feeling in your stomach that almost makes you feel sick.

“He said there was no way to change it... right?” You ask feebly, trying to hold out hope.

“No... and I wouldn’t want to go head to head with Fury.” Wanda frowns.

“Great.” You conclude, taking a deep breath. “You know what, I can do this. It’s fine, I’ll be fine.” You tell the girls, gathering your things and filing out of the office as people began to leave.

Wanda and Natasha were left watching your retreating form, staring at each other.

“I’ll be surprised if they make it to the end of next week.” Natasha says, earning a shove in her arm from Wanda.

Bucky watched you leave the office, and the gears were most definitely turning in his head.

-

You spent the rest of the week keeping mostly to yourself, trying to mentally prepare for what you’d have to face next week.

In the email sent out by Fury, he explained that you and your partner should have a lesson outlined prior to Monday so you could get right into teaching. He also explained that you would have to share all of your classes, and somehow correlate the two subjects that each professor taught.

English and History, seems easy, right?

Wrong.

Every idea you’ve emailed James has been shot down, and your patience was wearing thin. You didn’t like being unprepared, and the week would be coming to a close soon.

So naturally, you did what anyone else would do, and knocked on James’ office door until he answered.

“I’m comin’ jeez, would ya hold on?” You hear his voice, muffled by the door, until he swings it open, coming face to face with you. “What do you need, Y/L/N?”

“Oh, lovely to see you too, Dr. Barnes. I just wanted to know if you were actually interested in making our lesson plan. If we’re going to be spending the next few weeks together, we might as well have a plan. And I thought your input might be better, since you’re clearly not a fan of what I’ve shown you so far.” You rambled, moving to stand in the middle of his office, laptop in hand.

“You know, maybe if you sent anything good, I would’ve worked with ya on it. But I just don’t think your style of teaching fits me. It’s too... too intimate. You’re too far up your students’ asses. You get too close, too personal with them.” James explains to you.

You can only scoff at this.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, James, but my students and I have great relationships. If my students don’t like me, or what I teach, they’ll be more inclined to hand in subpar work. But if I make my expectations clear from the start, they’ll know what they have to do to earn an A in my class. That’s why my first two semesters here have been averaging with A’s all across the board.” You explain as simply as you can, because you felt like James was ridiculing you and the way you teach. You worked hard to get where you are today, and you know that’s why your students love coming to class.

Bucky stared at you for a few seconds, trying to process the information you dropped on him.

“So... your students... like you?” He asks, tentatively, almost.

“...Yes? I know you don’t like me, so it might hard to believe that others do, but I don’t think I’m that unappealing.” You scoff, looking at the floor to avoid Bucky’s eyes. “Anyways, do you have any ideas?”

Bucky’s chest tightened with guilt. After the incident at the bar, he was trying to not be as rude to you. He was trying to be more humane, in Steve’s words.

“I... Maybe we can take a look at some of the stuff you sent before. Maybe if you explain it to me face-to-face I’ll understand it better.” Bucky says, and you nod. “Take a seat, we’re gonna be here a while.”

As a few hours passed, you and James actually started a pretty solid outline for lessons. You started working on your first lesson, which would be the origins of literature. You could both talk about it, and you could both bring different aspects to the table.

“On average, how many kids do you have in your classes, Y/N?” James asks you, and your head snaps up at the mention of your first name. You had a moment where you imagine him calling you that way more often, making your throat run dry.

“Uhm,” you cleared your throat, “my biggest class is about thirty students, maximum.” You tell him.

“Really? My smallest is forty...” He tells you, scratching his chin. “Also very male dominated, I’ve noticed.”

You freeze, trying to process this. It’s only ten more kids... you’ll be fine, right?

“You alright, there, Y/L/N?” James chuckles, to which you let out a weak one. You weren’t used to large crowds, they made you anxious, nervous, like you were losing your footing.

“I-I’m fine. Yeah, all good, let’s get back to work.” You tell him, focusing back on your lesson plan.

“It’s uh, getting a bit late. Thinking we should head home soon.” James looks at you a bit longer, trying to gauge your mood.

“Uh- oh, what time is it?” You ask, squinting and cursing yourself for leaving your glasses in your office.

“It’s almost 7:30...” He tells you.

“Oh, I have to go! Lucy, she’s been all alone, I have to feed her!” In a panic, you begin gathering your belongings.

“Lu- Who’s Lucy?” James asks in clear confusion at your sudden panic.

“My cat! Oh, poor baby, she’s probably wondering where I’ve been...” You trail off, making sure you’ve gathered everything you need.

“W-wait, can I get your number?” James asks, and you both freeze.

“M-my number?” You ask, not bothering to hide your shock.

“Well, we’re gonna need to discuss the lesson plan somehow...” He tells you.

“Oh... well, here...” You pull off a post-it note from the pad on his desk and quickly scribble down your number, handing it to him. “I’m not usually on my phone too much, so if I don’t answer within a few hours, try shooting me an email.” You explain, making your way out the door.

“Have a good night, James.” He hears you say quietly before you turn away from the doorframe, and he hears the resonating shutting of your office door not even five minutes later.

Bucky sits in his chair, not having moved an inch from when you left. He stares at the blue post-it with your number scribbled on it.

He picked it up, inspecting it further.

Your handwriting was neat, but flourishing and borderline cursive because of how quickly you wrote.

Bucky pulls out his phone and inputs the number, saving your contact.

Y/N Y/L/N

He then types out a message:

Just wanted to text you so I wouldn’t lose your number. Hope Lucy is okay.

And he hits send, deciding to pack up his things, trying to understand why he chose to include your cat in his message.

And on your end when you check your phone after parking in your apartment building’s parking, you see a message from an unknown number. You choose to not answer until you’ve made it into your apartment and feed Lucy.

You open your messages, staring at it. Something in your chest fluttered, but you pass it off as your hunger, waiting for your dinner to warm up in the oven.

Hi James. Lucy is fine, thanks for worrying. Have a good night.

You send it off, saving his contact but choosing to not look at your phone until after you’ve finished everything that you needed to do.

After finishing some grading, doing the dishes, and adding to the lesson plan, you decide to settle into bed with a book. You check your phone while brushing your teeth.

James Barnes: Good to hear. Do you think we could work on the lesson plan over lunch tomorrow? Just so we can get ahead of the game.

Y/N Y/L/N: Sounds good. Are we still going to also meet up after classes?

It takes a few minutes before your phone dings again.

James Barnes: Yep. Do you want to just come by my place after? Kind of getting stir-crazy in my office. We could also order food.

You stare at your phone. Are you going crazy? Why is he being so... kind?

Before you could even respond, another ping pulls you back out of your thoughts.

James Barnes: You could also bring Lucy with you, if you don’t want to leave her alone at home for too long.

Okay, now you were sure you were going insane. He was being way too nice. Where was this attitude a year ago, when you’d first met him?

But then again, it wouldn’t hurt, right? You were trying to get out of your comfort zone...

Y/N Y/L/N: Sure, that’s good. Are you sure it would be okay if I brought Lucy? I wouldn’t want to impose on your personal space.

His reply was almost instant.

James Barnes: No, I don’t mind at all. Alpine would love the company.

Before you could even wonder who Alpine was, you remember your previous conversation with Steve once.

‘Bucky also has a cat...’

Y/N Y/L/N: Okay, then I’ll be there. You also have a cat?

James Barnes: Oh, yeah. He’s the sweetest. *1 Attachment.*

Opening the image, you see a fluffy, stark white cat. He had big eyes that anyone would swoon over. You look at the foot of your bed where Lucy is curled up into a ball, fast asleep. You carefully snap a picture, smiling at her.

Y/N Y/L/N: I’ll admit, he’s cute. But can he compete with her? *1 Attachment*

You smile, seeing the typing bubble, waiting for him to respond.

James Barnes: Doll, no one can compete with Al. But I can’t deny, Lucy’s a gem.

Reading over the message at least seven times, your eyes keep lingering over the first word. Doll. It was in a loop in your head, the only thought you were having was that one word.

Why did he call me that? Is he flirting with me? No... he doesn’t even like me! But then why would he be talking to me right now? And why would he send me a picture of his cat...

And now your hands were working faster than your brain, typing out a quick response with your stomach doing backflips.

Y/N Y/L/N: Alright, whatever you say, Bucky. I’m heading to bed, good night.

And you don’t wait for a response before shutting off your phone and plugging it in, putting it on do not disturb and abandoning it on your nightstand, flipping open your book. You were trying to clear your thoughts but miserably failing.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky responded with a wide smile at the sight of you using his nickname.

James Barnes: Sweet dreams, Y/N.

That night, Bucky fell asleep with Alpine on the pillow next to him, but a wide smile on his face and his stomach full of butterflies.

Little did he know, so were you.

-

The next day, you woke up feeling like a brand new woman. You got a decent amount of sleep. You got out of bed and made coffee before you left the house. You arrived to school way earlier than usual.

To be honest, you didn’t know what was going on.

James was being nice. To you. Why the sudden change of heart? Or maybe he was going back to acting like an asshole when he sees you in person. You didn’t really know what to expect.

Honestly, what you expected the least was for a knock to be heard on your door, 15 minutes before your first class of the day.

“Come in!” You say, expecting a student or maybe Natasha or Wanda.

But the door swings open, and there’s James. He’s standing there with two paper bags, undoubtedly from the bakery down the street.

“Hi.” He says. Not offering anything. No explanation, no emotion. No indication of our conversation last night.

“Hi. Did you need something?” You ask, and for once, it wasn’t in a dismissive or cold tone.

“Uh, no. Just wondering if you’ve eaten anything yet today?” James asks, holding up the bags in his hand.

“Uhm... no...” You tell him, not understanding why he was asking.

“Oh, well I have an extra croissant, if you’d like.” He holds up the bags once again.

“Sure, you can sit in here to eat if you’d like...” You offer, not sure of the water you were treading in.

“Oh, thanks.” He sits down and you both pull out the pastries and start eating. “So, how’s Lucy today?” James asks, a slight smirk on his face. You honestly couldn’t tell if he was making fun of you or not.

“Uh, she-she’s good. Clingy as usual. How’s Alpine?” You return the question.

“Same for him, also clings to me like a koala when I leave, I always feel bad, but I don’t really have a choice.” You both giggle at the remark, nodding in agreement.

“I understand. Lucy’s still a kitten too, so she’s been getting attached a lot. But I think I need her just as bad as she needs me.” You tell him, and you don’t know why.

“Oh... no boyfriend?” James asks, and now you really can’t tell if he’s pulling your leg.

“Oh-” You giggle, covering your mouth. “That’s funny. No, no boyfriend.” You continue to laugh until you fall back into silence, and James is just watching you.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, genuinely perplexed at your reaction.

“James, I don’t think either of us are idiots. I don’t think I come off as girlfriend material to most guys.” You laugh again.

It became quiet, and you look back to your computer, ready to end this awkward conversation. You knew you had your insecurities, but it had always been hard for you to put yourself out there. Especially for guys. Your anxiety and introverted nature really put a pause on your already non-existent dating life.

Besides, you’ve always been alone. And you didn’t think that would be changing any time soon.

“Okay, well I’m gonna head out. I have a class to prepare for. See you tonight?” James asks, getting up from his seat across from you.

“Y-Yeah, I’ll see you then. Could you text me your address and what time I should be there?” You ask, also gathering your lecture notes and laptop.

“Sure thing, Y/N. Bye.” He waves, leaving. As soon as he steps out, you hear the clicking of heels against the laminate flooring.

“Why was Bucky in here?” Natasha’s gravelly voice asks, looking confused as ever.

“He just brought me a croissant, we were talking about our lesson plan for next week.” You explain to her. “Walk with me to my lecture?” You ask, pointing out the door.

“Sure,” she agrees, waiting for you to lock the door, “so, have things been... civil between you two?” Natasha asks tentatively.

“Actually, yes. He’s not all that bad. I’m going to his place after classes to work on the lesson plan, he asked me yesterday to even bring Lucy over so she could meet Alpine.” You tell her.

“Oh- wow, really? He’s being so... nice to you...” She responds.

“I-I know... I don’t understand why... He made it clear he doesn’t really enjoy my company.” You respond.

“Yeah... Well, this is new. I hope he keeps up with it.” She pats you on the shoulder as you reach the lecture hall.

“Yeah, me too.” You say, turning to her before going in.

“Hey, can I stop by your office for something at lunch?”

“Sure, see you then!” You tell her, setting up for your class.

-

Lunch time comes around, and Natasha was already waiting for you when you finished your class by lunchtime. You remembered James also asking to come by to eat with you and work, so you tried to make it quick with Natasha.

“So, you and Bruce already finished your lesson plans?” You ask, looking for a booklet she needed.

“Yeah, he’s fun to work with. Kinda a nerd, but he knows his shit.” She says, smiling and leaning against your desk. “Any reason you’re in a rush?” She asks, catching you off guard.

“Oh, uh, James is coming to eat here so we can get ahead on the lesson.” You tell her, looking back through your drawer.

“That’s... interesting.” Natasha’s brows were drawn together. “You two seem to have a lot of time allotted together.”

“Well, we have only a little of our lessons done, and we really don’t want to show up unprepared. You know how much I hate that.” You tell her, finally finding what she needed.

Outside your office, James was just about to walk in when he heard your voices.

“Yeah... Just wondering, did he ever... apologize for what he said that one night?” Nat asks.

“Uhm, n-no. He’s been really kind to be as of late, so I’m assuming we’re turning a new leaf... But he makes me... nervous sometimes. Just a few days ago, he wouldn’t even look at my lesson plan ideas. He looked like he would rather violently bash his skull in than work with me. I’m just- I’m confused. What made him change his mind?” You think out loud, really wondering if James’ behavior was genuine.

“Y/N, I know you’ve been through a lot, but I think you should give him a chance. Don’t be so weary. If he’s being nice, don’t question it. I don’t know why he was like that with you from the beginning, but you shouldn’t have to beat yourself up over the fact that he’s actually treating you with respect.” Natasha puts her hand over yours, meeting your gaze.

“Y-Yeah. I know. I know I deserve respect, but it’s been hard lately. Ever since my family stopped talking to me, I feel like a failure. They don’t understand that I deserve that respect either. They think teaching is a shit job, they think I won’t get anywhere in life with it. I’m just sick and tired of them acting like I didn’t work hard to get where I am today.”

I talked to my brother the other day, and he said the same thing they’ve been saying since I started my PhD. ‘You’re not gonna get anywhere with this, you should get a boyfriend, we want grandkids.’ Like, okay! I get it! But where the hell am I supposed to find a guy when the cute one doesn’t even like me!? And my last boyfriend was in my undergrad. I feel a like teenager. I have literally no romantic life.” You huff out, absolutely tired of this.

“I- Y/N, I’m so sorry. You deserve a family that’s supportive of you and your passions. I hope Wanda and Carol and I have maybe helped you, kind of like a work family, y’know?” She holds your hand tighter. “We’ll always be here for you.”

You smile, walking around your desk to hug her.

“Thank you, Nat. I appreciate you all so much. I don’t think you’ll ever really know.” You hug her tightly before letting go. “James should be here any minute now, but we’ll talk more after class?”

“You betcha, but don’t think I forgot what you said... Maybe he does like you.” She says, and your face turns beet red.

“Natasha, no. I think he’s made it very clear he’s not into me. Like, at all. I’m surprised we’re even working together. I didn’t think he would cooperate.” You laugh. “Okay, seriously, you gotta go. I don’t want him to walk in on us talking about him.”

“Okay, okay, talk later. Bye, Y/N.” She says, making her way out, and Bucky pushes himself against the wall, hoping she wouldn’t see him.

“Don’t forget what we talked about, yeah?” She says to him, not even looking back. Natasha only stops when she doesn’t hear his response, turning around. “Listen to me, Bucky. We may be friends, but so are Y/N and I. I don’t know if it was me or Steve who finally knocked some sense into the dumb head of yours, but if she comes to me again, crying, telling me she can’t take it from you anymore, I promise; you’ll be off this faculty faster than you can say ‘tenure.’ Now, am I understood, Barnes?” Natasha concludes, completely in Bucky’s personal space.

“I- yes. I understand.” He gulps, looking down at his hands. “I-I’ve been trying. To be nice to her. I know what I did before was wrong, but I’m trying, okay? Steve and I had a... a long talk.”

“Yeah, whatever. This better not just be a one-time-thing. From here on out, I want no complaints from her. She’s been through enough shit, and she doesn’t need any more from you. I have somewhere to be, and so do you.” Natasha says, parting ways and letting Bucky release a breath he didn’t know he was holding in.

He composes himself one last time, and walks into your office.

“Hi, James.” You give him a soft smile, “Take a seat, we’ve got work to do.”

-

When your last lecture finished, you made your way home to get what you needed to head to James’ apartment. He’d texted you the address and told you you could come by any time after 6:30.

You were thinking back on your lunch break with him. He was quiet, almost nervous to be sitting in front of you, and you couldn’t understand for the life of you why.

It was uncharacteristic of him to be so demure, and you wonder why he was suddenly so shy. Before, he wouldn’t have hesitated to make a remark, or take a jab at you. But now, he was quiet as a mouse.

It was concerning, to say the least.

So, on your way to his apartment, which was a solid 15 minutes drive, you call Natasha for advice.

“Hey. Can I talk to you about something?” You ask while you drive.

“Yeah, everything alright?” Natasha’s voice filters through your car’s speakers.

“Oh, I’m fine, but did something happen with James? He was acting so... odd today... He was so quiet, so nice. His behavior has been so different lately.” Your brows were furrowed, genuinely trying to crack this puzzle.

“Uh... well, isn’t it a good thing?” She asks.

“I mean, yes, but did someone say something to him?” You ask, puzzled.

“Uh, no...” lie, “maybe he’s just turning over a new leaf, Y/N. I think you should stop worrying yourself over it so much. And if you really want answers, just confront him about it.” Natasha concludes.

“...Okay. You’re right. I think I’m just reading too much into this. I need to go, I’m almost there. Thanks, Nat.” You tell her.

“Bye, Y/N. Good luck.” And the line goes dead.

“Looks like it’s just me and you now, Luce.” You look over at her carrier in the seat next to yours, where she’s curled up into a ball inside.

-

Once you park and text James to let him know you’re on your way up, you sling your laptop bag over your shoulder and grab Lucy’s carrier.

As you make your way inside, you stop at the concierge desk, where an older man with grey hair and glasses greets you. His name tag reads Stan.

“Hi, I’m here to see James Barnes?” You tell him, looking at the grandiosity of the lobby.

“Ah, yes, Ms. Y/L/N?” He asks, and you nod. “He said he was expecting you. Not that I don’t trust you, but I just need a form of ID before I can let you up.” You nod again, handing over you driver’s license.

He hands it back, giving an approving nod.

“Elevators are to the right, he’s in 12B.” Stan tells him, and you give him appreciative ‘thank you’ before you scurry to the elevator.

When you knock on his door, it takes a second for him to open it, a faint ‘Al, one second!’ resonating through the door, making you snort out a laugh.

“Hey, sorry about that. Come in,” Bucky finally appears, swinging his door wide open.

You walk in, setting down Lucy and taking your shoes off.

“So, is Alpine friendly with other cats?” You ask, weary of unzipping the carrier.

“Of course he is. Why wouldn’t he be?” He asks, but stops when he sees your expression fall.

“S-Sorry, I wasn’t trying to imply anything, It’s just- Lucy’s a bit shy, but she typically likes other cats.” You say, looking down at her.

“I-I’m sorry- that was rude. I wasn’t trying to sound like an ass, I swear. Alpine’s friendly with other cats, but he needs a little time to warm up to other people. Don’t take it personally if he isn’t too fond of you at first.” He laughs, directing you to his couch where Alpine was perched.

“Oh, hi baby!” You coo, holding out your hand to Alpine. He tentatively inspects you with his eyes, first, and then sniffs you. He then, his head buts against your hand, asking for affection.

Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up, shocked at how friendly Alpine was being. He barely even looked at Steve and Sam when they come by. But here he was, purring and shoving himself against you.

“Well, I think Lucy won’t have a problem with him at all.” You smile, bringing the carrier over to the end of the couch and unzipping it, letting Lucy move at her own pace.

At first, she just wearily looks at Alpine and the unfamiliar setting. She then looks at you, where you encouragingly coo at her, making sure she was comfortable.

Bucky gazes at the whole scene with a soft look, watching as Lucy slowly saunters out of the carrier, sniffing Alpine and the couch. Soon enough, Alpine sniffs back, and they start playing with each other, forgetting their owners completely.

You both laugh at how well they were getting along, and the contrast between the black and white furs making it that much better.

“Well, should we get started?” You ask, finally turning to Bucky with a big smile.

In that moment, his throat goes dry, and all he can think is... She has a beautiful smile.

“James? Everything alright?” You ask, breaking him out of his trance.

“I- Yes! Sorry, got distracted for a minute... Would you prefer Italian or Chinese for dinner?” He asks, shaking his head and trying to change the subject.

“Uhm, I don’t mind, whatever you’d like.” You smile, grabbing your laptop.

“So... Italian, then?” He asks with a light laugh.

“Sure.” You answer. “Where can we sit to work?”

“Oh, the table’s fine, we can eat while we work, too. Let me go order really quick.” He excuses himself after pointing to his dining table, and heading into the kitchen.

When Bucky reaches the kitchen, he takes a second to compose himself. He pinches in between his brows, his eyes squeezed shut. He didn’t know why he was acting like a teenager, he felt himself get flustered around you.

After he pulls himself together, he orders the food and comes back outside, finding you focused on something extremely intently on your screen.

“James, what do you think for something like this for a more interactive activity?” You ask, turning your computer to him, waiting for him to read the plan, biting your lip nervously.

“This- this is awesome, doll. This looks really good, the students would love this.” He tells you, reading over it one more time.

“O-Oh, thanks.” You thank him shyly, stomach fluttering while looking down at your lap again.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings, breaking the silence.

“Oh, the food-” James moves to grab his wallet, but you grab his wrist, stopping him.

“James, you’ve already been so hospitable, let me get it-” You say, but he shakes off your hand and shakes his head.

“No, I can’t let you do that, I insist,” he responds, beating you to the door and handing the delivery man his card, letting him ring it up quickly.

You huff, sitting back down in your spot with a pout.

“James, you suck,” you huff, visibly annoyed. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, I did. Now, let’s eat. You good with red wine?” He asks, pulling out two wine glasses.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You say, unpacking the food as he pours some wine.

As he sets down some plates, he sees your expression still pouty, like a child.

“Y/N, stop pouting.” You look so cute. “You can get it next time.” I wish I could kiss you.

“Oh, there’s gonna be a next time?” You ask, your face turning red yet again.

“I mean, we’re going to have to make more lesson plans, depending on how long Fury keeps this up.” He laughs, but you freeze at his words.

It’s true, you think to yourself, we’re probably going back to how it was before when this is all over. That’s probably why he’s being nice to me.

“Hey, you alright? Did I say something?” James asks, a concerned look on his face.

“N-No, you’re good. Sorry. Ready to eat?” You ask, changing the subject.

“Yeah... You sure everything’s okay?” He asks again, trying to make sure.

“James, everything is okay, please. Let’s just eat.” You smile, placing a hand over his in reassurement.

-

Dinner was delicious, and now you and James were sipping on wine while working, occasionally checking on Lucy and Alpine.

“Hey, do you think a group project could work? I usually give some to my students, I have a template I follow, but you could change it to your liking-” James tells you, but you cut him off with your thoughts.

“James, can I ask you a question?” You ask, hovering a hand over his.

“S-Sure. What’s up?” He sounds weary.

“You know, before we started this project, you like... loathed me.” You say. “Why?” Your voice breaks at that last word, barely getting it out of your throat.

“I... I just-” He takes a deep breath and looks down, grabbing your hand, “I thought you were... snobby, stuck up. I thought you came to this school thinking you were better than everyone else, that you were here to one-up us all.”

And before you could cut him to deny it with your shaking head, he continues.

“And I know now that I was wrong. I-I’m so sorry for the way I spoke to you, especially at the bar. After you left and Steve took me home, he basically yelled at me and told me how what I thought of you was completely off. I shouldn’t have assumed all those things about you, and I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me, one day.” He concludes, holding onto your hand so tightly to convey just how sorry he was.

“I- Oh, James. Y-You know, I never meant to come off that way. I just- I’ve always had trouble making friends and talking to people, and things have been hard recently. I never meant to make you o-or anyone else, for that matter, to feel that way. I’m so sorry.” You say, tears prickling behind your eyes.

“Y/N, doll.” James moves out of his seat, wrapping you in his arms. “I can’t even tell you how much I wish I was more open-minded, more patient. Ever since Steve and Nat have talked to me, I’ve been just-”

“Nat? What has Natasha told you?” You stop him, pulling away.

“She- she just told me to stop. She told me you’ve been going through a lot, and that I wasn’t making it any better for you so-”

“Did she say what? Why would she tell you about my personal life-” You begin to ramble and waving your hands around.

“Doll, no she didn’t-”

“She had no right to say-”

But before you could continue, Bucky cuts you off.

With his lips.

Against yours.

Bucky was kissing you.

Oh my god, he’s kissing me!

You pull away looking at him in utter shock.

“Wh- What did you do that for?”

“I just- You were rambling, but I didn’t know how else to stop you.” James says, a blush creeping up his neck.

“So you kissed me?” You ask incredulously.

“Uh- yes?” He says, more like asks.

“I uh... I have to go.” You say, looking anywhere but his eyes as you gather your items, hunting down Lucy and putting her in her carrier; much to her protest and distaste.

“Y-Y/N, please, don’t go. Let’s just talk!” James pleads, but you’re not listening.

“N-No, I’m sorry, I have to go. I’ll see you in class next week. Bye, James.” You huff out, running to the nearest stairwell.

A part of you wanted him to run after you, but you needed time to process... whatever that was.

Did he kiss you because he liked you? Or because he wanted to shut you up?

You cut the drive home into half, the first thing you do after getting through your door is calling Natasha.

“Nat, I fucked up...” Your voice was weak through the phone.

And back in Bucky’s apartment, he dialed Steve’s number.

“Steve, I fucked up... real bad.” He meekly provides, his head in his hands.

-

a/n: oh boy. what’s gonna happen ??? hmmm... let me know down below! hope you guys enjoyed ;)

also, did y’all peep my stan lee cameo? :)

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

TUA MEAN GIRLS AU

(please understand that by AU, I mean they share an incredibly small amount of things in common with the original source material which I barely remember BUT the “story” takes place in the setting of the film) (not to be misleading or anything :p)

(BEWARE: abuse, bribery, immoral deals, bullying, homophobia, outing, transphobia, violence, abortion, teen pregnancy, etc.)

(If you can handle watching Umbrella Academy, this will be fine for you.)

(Regina) Five is the king of this school, and he has no plans to give up that position. He needs it to protect his people, as few and far between as they are, and himself, if he’s honest - he’s a trans and ace-aro kid in platonic love with the health class mannequin who he calls Dolores. Ruling with fear is basically all he can do. While he’s mean, you’ll soon realize that everything he says is more of a blunt observation that will improve your life if you just heed his advice. He doesn’t respect almost anybody - not the jocks, theatre geeks, nerds, cheerleaders, band kids - no one. However, if he does respect you, you have his trust and protection. And as a thirteen-year-old genius who only takes advice from always-slightly-drunk art teacher Agnes, his protection is pretty damn valuable: the last person who tried to hurt one of his people will never walk again. Leonard Peabody - he assaulted Vanya, and he paid. Five beat him to the point of hospitalization without getting a single speck of blood or bruise on himself, and Leonard’s the one who walked away in handcuffs. Do not fuck with any of Five’s people, or you have to fuck with Five. And you do not want to fuck with Five.

(Gretchen) Vanya is quiet and subdued, to the point where people question how she’s a part of the school’s most popular trio. If you talk to her for long enough though, it becomes clear: she knows any and everybody’s secrets. She writes for the school paper, and is known to write the stories her subjects don’t want anyone else to find out about. Like Diego, who she outed as bisexual last year to throw people off the trail of her own secret relationship with Sissy, earning her an ex-girlfriend and an ex-friend. She’s been trying to win Diego’s forgiveness ever since, but he won’t talk to her, returning every single one of her letters and gifts. (He’s blocked her number and all of her socials, which she only created to talk to him anyway.) She doesn’t know why Five keeps her around - Klaus loves to gossip, but Five never seems to want any of her secrets. She’s pleasantly surprised to find out that he apparently actually enjoys her company. (What?)

(Karen) Klaus is a fucking mess. He plays the dumb blonde (well, brunette) despite being a genius in his own right, even if he’s not at Five’s level. (To be fair, he’s pretty sure no one is.) He’s a drag queen on the weekends, a hangover from his time in the mafia gang, which he joined with his boyfriend Dave for six months after running away from home. Dave died in a gunfight, and Klaus has been fucked up (well, more than usual) ever since. Anorexia, PTSD, anxiety, depression, self-harm, suicidal ideation, the works. But as lonely as he is, addicted to a fuckton of hard drugs and liquors to cope, he’s still an alluring, aloof, and bubbly popular girl, wearing pink skirts and glittery heels and leather corset crop tops to school every day. No matter how much his father Reginald beats him for it, he keeps being himself, because he’s brave and because even if Reginald hates him, someone far more important loves him… Diego. Diego, who Klaus has kissed under a million stars and in the lollipop shop down the road and on top of a cafeteria table. Diego, who Klaus has chased through the rain and into the street without rest or hesitation. Diego, whose words and promises and scribbles are immortalized on Klaus’ skin for all to see. Diego, who Klaus will love no matter how much bigotry they encounter or dickwads they’re beat up by or miles they put between them. Diego, Klaus’ ex-boyfriend.

(Cady) Allison is the new girl, and she has plans for the advantage being underestimated has brought her. She challenges Five on her first day there, earning his respect, and joins his group at the urgings of Klaus and Vanya, who like her company. A fashion queen, she acts as though she’s unfazed by any and everything, but nobody knows her true heartbreak - she still writes letters to a girl back home. Allison was expelled from her Christian private school for falling in love with a girl named Natalie, who she kissed in janitors’ closets and who she beat up racist and homophobic blondes for. She has no tolerance for bullies, and yet becomes one under Five’s guidance - until she upends his reign as queen bee and signs her death warrant. (Though she later finds out he was more angry at her for stealing Klaus and Vanya’s affection than his popularity.) Now her only hope for happiness in her final days is Ray, the Shakespeare-quoting nerd in her English class… or Luther, the quiet dork in the Star Trek t-shirts in her math class. Fuck, she misses Natalie.

(Aaron) Luther is the posterboard for toxic masculinity. He’s on the football team but hates it, preferring his math tutoring and fantasy books to tackling drills. His bisexuality is his deepest secret - he once slept with Diego when they were drunk at a party after a football game, and he can’t get it out of his head. He keeps thinking about what might happen if somebody found out - would he be shunned like Diego? Trapped like Vanya? Plastic like Klaus? He doesn’t know. All he can do is continue to be kind and hope Allison loves him enough to love every part of him, beyond his good lucks and British accent and fucking Ray. So Luther stands up to Five, and pays the price. He compliments Klaus on his skirts, and pays the price. (Diego seems to simultaneously love and hate him for it, it’s confusing.) He holds the door open for Ben, and pays the price. He’s big enough to be scary, kind enough to be overlooked - but after that incident with Vanya, everyone looks at him like he’s a monster to be locked up. And soon enough, “star student” Luther, “teacher’s pet” Luther, “completely under the principal’s thumb and completely friendless and completely terrified of the world around him” Luther might just break under all that pressure.

(Janis) Diego is the school’s resident outcast and rebel punk - he wears skirts and fishnets and whatever the fuck he wants because if Klaus taught him anything when they were dating it was that gender is a construct and he looks hot in leather. They broke up when Diego was outed and Klaus chose to stay quiet when people started shunning Diego for it, but despite it all, Diego still loves him. He misses when they used to paint their nails together, because he has to paint his own now. They used to stare up at the stars together and fall asleep in the grass, curled up in each other, on the nights that Klaus would run away in terror from his dad and Diego would breathe with him and let him press his hand against his heart until Klaus’ panic died down. His heart still flutters when he sees Klaus smile around a lollipop… but he won’t take him back. He won’t. He just can’t forgive him. So instead, he talks to his mom about everything. He plays soccer with his sister Eudora. He paints shit while smoking weed with his best friend Lila. He thinks of Luther being scared of him and laughs. You know, he was almost in Allison’s position freshman year - Five loved him, and so did Klaus and Vanya, but then Vanya outed him to the whole school for no reason like a day before he and Klaus were going to come out together. And now they’re all estranged, and Diego has the strangest feeling that he’s lost his family, even though his mom is the only real family he’s ever known. But maybe he’s wrong. Because Klaus keeps sending him “anonymous” letters, leaving them on the porch and spilling secrets Diego never even would’ve imagined him having. But forgiveness is still a question - that is, until one day Diego gets a letter in a different handwriting: Five’s, telling him to man the fuck up and love Klaus before he kills himself trying to tear the stars down for Diego’s own personal pleasure, and suddenly, Diego is crying on his porch in the rain, missing a slender, sassy skeleton in his arms and a pink, bruised but unbroken heart in his chest.

(Damien) Ben is everyone’s favorite, and the kindest person in the world. He used to be Klaus’ best friend, but that ended when Ben got into an accident (there was a bus involved, that’s all you need to know) that landed him in a wheelchair and Klaus couldn’t deal with the mental pain it caused him. They still stare at each other longingly from across the cafeteria, but never say a word to each other, not even in class. But beyond Klaus, Ben has never had any friends, though he has a million aquaintances: he’s the only student in the school that everyone loves and respects. Five holds the door for him, though Ben can tell without having to ask that Five would rather nobody know that. He hangs out with Diego because he knows Diego’s lonely, even if he never wants to admit it. He advises Allison not to let anyone control her, telling her he knows Natalie from summer camp and that the deaf girl still loves her and reads every single one of her letters. He gives Vanya his lunch when she skips to cry in the gym after Diego yells at her, even though a part of him might think she deserves it sometimes. He plays sports with Luther after school and offers him an ear and some jokes about his problems, and a few touchdowns when he’s feeling good. He acts as Ray’s student consultant, because he knows how hard Ray works to treat him like an equal. He tutors Eudora in basically everything, but cuts study sessions short to play video games when he can tell she’s too stressed to think. He’s ace and pan and proud about it; he runs the school’s GSA; he defends Diego and uses the right pronouns for Lila when they’re alone without Lila ever having to him he’s trans. He bugs Reginald’s office in one of their many meetings and records enough conversations to get him fired when he tries to expel Five. And finally, karma rewards him - Klaus shows up at his house with a box of brownies he baked himself, all covered in smiley faces, and shoves them into Ben’s hands, shaking his head when Ben assumes they’re for Diego. I miss you, Klaus tells him, and Ben tugs him down into a kiss, pulling away with a stammered apology. I’m sorry, he blushes, and Klaus beams, leaping into his lap and hugging him closer than ever, the two of them queerplatonic partners from then on, forever linked by their fingers in the hallway. Happy. Finally.

Lila is the shy artsy kid who carries around one of those leather brown satchels that looks threatening but is really just code for “I think I’m too cool for a backpack so I stuff all my incorrect homework and favorite comic books into this sack of knockoff pig skin instead”. He’s covered in paint most of the time, and wears Alice in Wonderland combat boots and Sharpie-doodle-covered jeans and big black hoodies and soft grey beanies; he’s trans and hacked off his own hair until an undercut with choppy slash bangs and there’s pink streaks in them, of course, to match the bubblegum he’s always chewing. His nails are bitten and black, and his skin is decorated with tattoos that are almost exclusively Bo Burnham quotes, with the exception of Diego’s name right over his heart. (Diego has Lila’s name over his too - and Klaus’ and Eudora’s, though he’d never tell them that.) He gives his skirts to Klaus and gets along well enough with Five, them both being trans and all, and everyone else knows him as that kid who’ll spread rumors and steal things for bribes. It’s not like he can get in more trouble than he’s already in - he lives with his bigoted and abusive bitch of a mom. But Diego is his best friend - the one he shoots and stabs things with, the one whose ex-boyfriend he talks to because Diego will never admit to himself that he misses Klaus like he would his own lungs if they were torn from his chest, the one whose sister he’s in love with. Wait. Fuck. Oops.

Eudora is Diego’s sister, and the captain of the soccer team. She wears her red jersey with the white numbers to school every day, and is covered in tattoos of magical creatures, because she believes in all of them. She wishes she was a werewolf, and has dressed up as one every year for Halloween since she was ten. (And she’s let anyone dressed a werewolf give her a hickey just in case that turned her. It’s good to have all your bases covered.) She has a broken down pick-up truck named Travis-Trevor-Thomas-literally-any-other-T-name that she loves beyond belief, and drives Diego to and from school in it, though he grumbles about it every day. She eats lunch with him even though he insists he’s fine eating alone and wants her to go away, because she knows he’s lying, and she hangs around the GSA with him sometimes too. She’s lab partners with her brother’s “secret” ex-boyfriend, and is concerned by how quiet he is - she’s seen enough documetaries to know that quiet never means anything good. But unfortunately, she has her own academic drama to deal with - Hazel and Cha-Cha hate her for helping Klaus, and she hates them right back, leading to failing grades in both English and history no matter how brilliant her work is. Mostly, though, Eudora tries to get to know Lila - the pretty, angry, sarcastic emo boy she shares half her classes with, and flirts with every day despite how he ignores her. (ONLY because Lila still smiles and laughs every time she flirts with him, and Eudora knows from Diego that Lila thinks Eudora only flirts with him because it’s some sort of game of “if you get the guy who’s hard to get you win the hundred dollar bet” deal. Otherwise she would’ve backed off immediately because not doing so would be harassment.) Eventually, though, Eudora runs off-field in the middle of a soccer game and over to the stands to ask Lila to prom. Finally, she gets a yes - and, most importantly, a real smile, curled against her own mouth like a Cupid’s bow of promise.

Sissy is Vanya’s ex-girlfriend, and Fuckwad Carl’s current girlfriend. She hooked up with him after breaking up with Vanya, too drunk to even speak, and now her belly’s ballooning and her parents are gonna kick her out unless she marries him like a good Christian woman. And she really didn’t expect herself to tell them to fuck off for this one, but apparently lesbianism makes you do crazy things - so here she is, standing on Ray’s porch in the pouring rain and hoping for the best. She’s depressed and shows that by reading the Bronte sisters; Klaus opens the door for her and brings her notes with doodles all over them which makes her cry; she misses Vanya but hates her for what she did to Diego. And yet Vanya’s there when she goes to the abortion clinic, smiling and joking and holding her hand like always. One day she’ll have a baby and she and Vanya will raise it right, but fuck - that baby sure as hell won’t be Carl’s. (Because fuck that guy.)

Ray is a humanitarian, so, naturally, he’s also the student council president. Five has never mistreated him, because everyone loves and respects Ray, even his critics. He nurtures Allison’s intelligence and encourages Vanya’s musical habits. He tutors Klaus in basically every subject but never talks down to him because he knows the kid’s a genius, just a bit spacey from all the drugs (and the ADHD, let’s be honest). He helps bring Luther out of his shell and takes Lila out shopping for boy clothes, all of which he pays for himself. He’s not scared or offended by Diego’s sarcasm or intensity, instead greeting him every day in class with a new dad joke. He treats Ben to intelligent conversation like an equal and doesn’t let Five be so harsh he’ll regret it later, though he still lets him say what he means and be himself. Everybody knows he’ll be the real President one day - even if for now he wears pajamas to school every day because, in his words, “Clothes are just too much fuckin’ work, man.” (There’s a possibility he may have still been high from hanging out with Klaus that day.)

The Handler is the evil physics teacher. (I don’t know why I said evil clearly all science teachers are evil.) (Yes this is coming from a place of aggression but hey at least I recognize that.) (Plus he deserves it. So fuck you.) (*sticks tongue out*) (Don’t you see how mature I am?) (I’m sorry I’m sorry back to your regularly scheduled programming -) She’s Lila’s mom, and continually and constantly misgenders him (and Five!) in class, not even because she hates trans people, just because she hates him (and Five!). Five always challenges her dictatorial rule, refusing to participate in solidarity with Klaus when she forces Klaus to sit out for wearing skirts. She keeps trying to flunk Ray too, the little bitch, but he just keeps doing so well that she can’t even come up with a falsely plausible reason to fail him! She’s been bribing Hazel and Cha-Cha to flunk certain students for years, unaware that Lila has been stealing from the Handler’s own purse to double those prices for those students to ace their classes. Everybody hates her, and for good reason. I hope she gets fired. (Shut up and let me project onto fictional characters, assholes.)

Reginald is the evil principal and Klaus’ abusive dad. He sends Klaus to school every day in a boys’ “uniform”, which Klaus has to change out of in the bathroom every day with borrowed clothes from Allison. (Anything he owns lives at her house; they have an agreement.) Once Klaus forgot to wash off his nail polish before Reginald came home and he broke all of Klaus’ fingers one by one. (Agnes wants to beat him into dust with a rolling pin.) Klaus stays at Diego’s house a lot, though Klaus refuses to come after they break up even though Diego makes it clear that his door will always be open. Five, therefore, is super protective of Klaus - every time he comes over, he’s super respectful when Klaus is in the room and then verbally rips Reginald to shreds as soon as he’s gone. He once stayed over for an impromptu sleepover when he noticed that Klaus was terrified-ly coming up with more and more ridiculous excuses for Five to stay and not leave him alone with Reginald, and as soon as Klaus was asleep, tiptoed around the house to set up bugs and cameras he got from Ben. He gives all of the evidence to Eudora to deliver to the police, who arrest Reginald and leave him to rot in a cement cell for the rest of his sorry fucking life while Klaus goes on to live Happily Ever After because fuck you and your stupid as shit traditionalism and inhumane experiments you lying scheming fuckwad of a psychopathic monster toad.

Hazel is the exhausted English teacher. His secret? He hates every book he teaches. Also he’s been taking bribes from the Handler and Lila because teachers don’t get paid enough in our society. Also his wife Agnes of twenty years divorced him a year ago for the whole bribery situation and he’s been sleeping in his car and using the school’s facilities to appear fine. Yeah, Hazel’s a mess. ANYWAY - Five is the only one who seems to know what’s going on, and Hazel would like to keep it that way. He knows Klaus is a genius with words but doesn’t know how to tell him that, and he knows Diego’s favorite book is Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen and has agreed to take that secret to his grave. (What, it’s a good book!) His class is the only place Diego and Klaus dare to interact, and he’s noticed - they often pair up for assignments and take to the floor or beanbags in the corner, often cuddling up and giggling over whatever book or assignment they’ve been sent off to read or do. Hazel also has another hopeless couple he teaches, Lila and Eudora - eventually Hazel starts leaving Lila’s sappy poems about Eudora on Eudora’s desk when she comes in for her own class (separate from Lila’s) because there is no other way those two idiots are getting together, let’s be honest. There’s just too much communication. Mostly Hazel misses his own wife, Agnes - but he’s been out of luck since he cashed it in with the science department, hot cocoa whore that he is.

Cha-Cha is the history teacher, and she has all the sass and dry sarcasm required for that job. She will beat a bitch up for telling her she can’t teach critical race theory, and plays Drunk History and Overly Sarcastic Productions in her class basically every day. She doesn’t believe in tests because if she did she’d have to grade them, and she likes animated kids’ movies and TV shows, especially Paw Patrol and Sofia the First. (Yes, obviously she’s single. She’s also ace-aro, so who the fuck cares.) She takes the Handler and Lila’s bribes because she runs an underground wrestling ring and would like to continue feeding her pitbulls gourmet food. The only kid she’s truly on edge with is Five, who often challenges her in debates - she can’t decide if she’s impressed or enraged about it. Whatever. School’s out, bitches.

Agnes is the art teacher who knows everything about everybody. All of her art is of donuts. (Of course.) She’s a damn good cook, especially of pizza - and donuts. (Naturally.) She always has munchkins available for her students - and donuts! (She always saves the chocolate glazed and jelly ones for Five and Klaus.) She likes to rap explicit beats in her car and play her music so loud it shakes the ground and you can hear it from miles away. (Obnoxious.) So she doesn’t restrict her kids’ projects because that’s not what art is about. (And because it would make her a hypocrite, obviously.) Sure, she divorced Hazel, but hey - she’s living her best life, and eventually he’ll come to his senses and come crawling back to her at three a.m. to badly lipsync a Justin Bieber song about missing her, and she’ll leap out the window into his giant hairy arms and kiss him on his ginormous teddy bear face. Because Agnes, at heart, is a hippy. (And that’s love, bitch.)

Grace is Diego and Eudora’s (and everybody’s!) mom. She goes out for drinks with Agnes on the weekends and to clubs with Pogo every Friday (the librarian/unofficial therapist who acts as her mouthpiece when Diego does something stupid and won’t listen to her advice, the moron). She’s kind to everyone, but takes no one’s bullshit: you hurt her kids, you die. Important Notice: Everybody Is Her Kid. So be kind to everyone, dickwads. Well - except Reginald. And the Handler. Both of whom she bitchslaps for mistreating her precious babies. She then takes in Klaus because Diego loves him, and Ben because Klaus loves him, and Lila because both Diego ad Eudora love him. The only reason she didn’t take in Sissy was because Ray already had her taken care of. She’s a literal angel sent from heaven and we should all be worshipping her like the goddess she is I’m sorry I don’t know when this became Grace Appreciation Day™ but hey I’m here for it and I have no regrets.

[captainjimothycarter]

8, 12, and 13 for the Holiday/Christmas prompts please (I don’t remember what it was called lol) 🤍

I had to search for it too, lol. I’ll be updating these in reblogs!

--

“Who threw that?!”

The tone carried across the snowy campus to let those nearby, in their close-knit circles, that the owner if it was annoying. No, pissed.

The snow fell from Peggy’s coat as she shook what snow off of her backside that she could. Her perfect vision was sharp enough in the classroom to pick out the few students who still stupidly dare to cheat on her exams and out here on the campus, she could make out a few familiar faces within her class.

And one who taught right next-door to her office.

He stood a foot shorter than her with baby blue eyes, downy soft blonde hair, and freckles dashed across his straight nose. The very nose that scrunched as he snorted, eyes wrinkling in the corner. He dropped the snowball from his hand, shaking the excess snow off of his gloves. A few flecks of snow landed on his hair, nearly blending in with the blonde locks.

She hated how adorable their new art teacher was. Not only did she hate how adorable he was, but she also hated how much the students loved him. She hated how good looking he was, she personally, and selfishly hated how she was attracted to him. 

During his time on campus so far, he fell into the easy role of being the laidback teacher who let his students get away with a lot of things. Things that would not fly in her classroom. Chatting during exam time? That wouldn’t fly, some people needed silence to concentrate, but she’d heard him saying it was fine if they talked, long as it wasn’t loud. He let them choose the soundtrack for their days, often giving the students a choice between two albums that related to his studies. He was often late to class himself, often arriving with nothing but a cup of coffee and a smirk on those full, pink lips. Later, she’d learn he was often a little late because of frequent asthma attacks given he took the bus to work and some people didn’t seem to understand that smoking on the bus was illegal.

What was the most annoying aspect of Mister Rogers was how he seemed to live up to his surname and be so helpful and kind. They were first introduced by Headmaster Coulson who seemed all too gleeful to introduce a history teacher to an art teacher, wearing a smirk on his lips as he quickly walked around the corner. Steve had offered to walk her to her office, then the car, claiming he was worried about her falling because she lacked proper snowshoes and it was starting to ice outside. She had told him, no, but he apparently didn’t take no for an answer and walked her anyway.

That had only been the start of their little acquaintance. She would watch him in between classrooms doing favors that were well out of a professor’s means for students, like researching and writing letters for students to get pets or calling home for them to talk to a difficult parent [okay, that one hit close to home for her.] She’d seen him here late at night and early in the morning, helping the janitors clean up after parties or laying out salt and putting rugs down.

Yet, their most recent encounter had been this morning, the one rare time that neither of them had class, and despite that Steve’s office was halfway across campus, he was knocking on her door. She almost didn’t look up from her lesson plan, the well-practiced sentence of office hours didn't start for another half hour when she could smell the coffee. He was standing in front of her, wearing a jacket that made him look like an over puffed marshmallow. His earmuffs were covering his ears, making him look adorable. His cheeks flushed from the cold outside and he looked almost winded as if he’d been hurrying.

“Mister Rogers,” she breathed, waving him inside. “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

“Wrong? Why would something be wrong?” He spoke too loudly and she cringed, pointing to her ears. He flushed as he pulled the earmuffs down, setting a cup of coffee on her desk. “Sorry, I forgot about those. Anyway, no, I wanted to beat your normal crowd of students and bring you some coffee. I sometimes hear what those students ask of you and...well, I thought it...be good…”

He seemed to stumble over his own words, flushing a brighter shade of pink as he caught himself. Clearing his throat, Steve shook his head and shoved his hands into his pocket. Oh, he was adorable.

“That’s...so kind of you.” And he seemed to know his order too after a small sip, she found she was impressed. “Thank you, Steve.”

He shrugged and cleared his throat. “I...yeah. I gotta…” He jerked his thumb behind him, to an empty hall, where she knew maybe three classes were being taught right now. The freak snowstorm had caused many students and teachers to miss class. 

“Of course. Thank you again, Steve. You’re very sweet.”

She enjoyed watching him stumble and walk away, locking himself in his neighboring classroom. He must’ve called class off because of the storm too, meaning he came to their building just for her?

Bless that man.

Right now, she couldn’t think of blessing him, as the cold snow dripped into her neck, making her shudder. She glared at Steve who still somehow managed to look just as adorable as he did this morning with his pinking nose from the cold. She was English, she didn’t do well in the cold. The heat was fine but this Brooklyn cold went right through her.

A few of their shared students snickered around them, only stopping when she glared at them. They quickly hurried off, just a few stragglers left around them. 

“Steve?” Peggy asked, lips pursed and brow raised. “Did you throw that snowball at me? Do not lie to me.”

“Or what? You’d give me detention?” There was that sassy fella she’d often hear in his lections. He must’ve found that sass again. She hated how cute he looked as he snickered. “No, it must’ve been from the trees.”

Peggy brow rose, glancing up and around them with her hand waving above. “Funny. There doesn’t seem to be any trees around us right now.” When his mouth opened, she raised a finger to silence him. “To answer your earlier question, no, I won’t give you detention. I’ll remind you as to why you shouldn’t start a battle you can’t win.”

Just as his mouth opened to sass or counter her, Peggy threw a quick handful of loosely packed snow in his direction, striking him right in the mouth. There was some satisfaction in watching him sputter and spitting the snow out.

His eyes narrowed at her as he swiped the snow off of his face, already reaching to scrape some snow off of the bench beside him. “Oh, it’s on.”

That’s how Peggy found herself engaging with one of the few professors that she tolerated on campus, in an all-out snowball fight. She used the brick wall beside her to gather the snow off of the top, lobbing a lopsided snowball in Steve’s direction. It struck him square in the chest and he shuddered but his more perfectly made snowball struck her hard and clear in the shoulder.

Turns out, that bad eyesight she heard him muttering about didn’t seem to affect him when it came to throwing snowballs at her. His aim was pretty good, just as good as his right armed throw. His snowballs were more solid than hers and didn’t seem to just disintegrate in the air as hers did. 

She threw one hard at his head again, managing to hit it just right to knock the earmuffs off and cause the snow to scatter in his hair. He laughed, throwing his head back and chest out as he laughed, shaking the snow out of his hair. He neglected to pick up the earmuffs in favor of lobbing one at her chest.

This one was solid, sending her a step back. Her scarf caught on the shoulder-high hedge that lined their walkway. Peggy abandoned it to the hedge in favor of throwing her next ball and missing Steve by a few inches.

Steve in turn, childishly stuck his tongue out at her, tossing his next ball and losing his glove with it.

Her next one struck him in the shoulder, getting snow under his jacket. He did a cute little dance, slipping and sliding to get the snow out of his coat.

“Do you see how it feels now?” She asked, her breath floating in the air around them. She felt a little breathless but Steve looked breathless with his flushed face. “Cold isn’t it?”

“Mam, I was born and raised in Brooklyn, I’ve known no warmth in my life.”

She snorted at that one and he stomped his foot, both to get the remaining snow out of his coat and to dismiss her disbelief snorting. 

“It’s true!” he insisted, waving his hand at her. 

“Has anyone told you that you’re dramatic?” She mused, rolling his eyes when he lopped a loosely packed ball in her direction and it fell short between them. “And quite rash.”

“Plenty of people. You wanna start a club about it?” He was pouting and she was caught up with the thought of how cute those pouting lips were.

“Only if you’re the president of it. I’ll bring it up to Coulson during our next meeting.”

This time, she threw the next ball to punctuate the end of the sentence. Her glove came with it too, both hitting him in the chest.

They both lost their set of gloves in separate balls, her scarf still fluttered in the branch beside her, his dark blue earmuffs stuck out in the snow in contrast to the white color, her left boot went flying next when it got caught in the root of the hedge, and his scarf came off when he caught himself on the end of the bench.

They were both winded, chest aching from the cold, but neither wanted to admit defeat. Especially Peggy who hated to lose.

Steve’s next ball came flying at her and a quick ducking motion caused it to strike the statue behind her. They both watched as the cheap statue on its weak frame started to tip over before crashing into the frozen landscape behind it.

Sharing a look with her fellow professor, Peggy made quick work of grabbing their soaked winter gear, finally snatching his hand and the both of them booking it back towards her office.

With their gear off and sitting next to a heater, Steve was able to laugh. “Do you think anyone saw us?”

“We were fighting in front of the main building, Steven, I don’t see how not.” She pursed her lips in thought before shrugging. “Though I know you mean the statue, I don’t think we’re in any trouble. Coulson has mentioned how he wants that thing done, we’re doing him a favor.”

“I think we deserve a raise,” the blonde snickered, rubbing the melting snow from his hair. “We call it a draw?”

Her lips remained pursed, regarding him with a look as they sat side-by-side on the couch, feet tucked under her to try to harbor body warmth.

“Not a draw then,” he mused, a little grin on his lips. “Though, you don’t know how to make a snowball, do you?”

Peggy gapped before a beat of laughter escaped her. “Excuse you, I grew up in snow too, Steven.” She paused, her cheeks tinting a soft pink from nothing to do with the cold. “They were terrible, weren’t they?”

“Really bad,” he agreed, looking almost nervous as he turned to face her. “I can teach you how to make a proper one if you’d like.”

Without missing a beat. “Only if we get coffee first, I’m afraid I can’t feel my fingers.” 

Steve’s face split open into a grin that should be illegal with how adorable he looked. “Deal.”

[littlemissaddict]

Juke

Summary: Julie and Luke can’t stand each other but when they get paired for a project their true feelings come to life. (Requested)

Word Count: 1597

Julie was not looking forward to school today, it might have something to do with the fact that she had a double English class this morning and they were going to be working on their paired projects. Now normally it wouldn’t bother her but then this wasn’t like normal as she wasn’t paired with Flynn like she usually would be, this time her partner had been picked for her as she had been unfortunate enough to be off school sick on the day that the project had been announced. No, she'd had the bad luck to be partnered with Luke, the loud obnoxious boy who sat at the back of the class who never paid attention to what the teacher was saying, that was when he even bothered to turn up to the class anyway. 

Flynn cheerily greeted Julie at her locker as she was grabbing her books for class but one look from Julie felt the smile fall from her face, “Okay Julie I know it’s not ideal but it’s only for the one project and then you’ll be stuck with me again” she jokes trying to cheer her friend up.

“I guess” Julie replies, shrugging her bag over her shoulder as the bell goes and they make their way to class. When they get to class the teacher asks them to sit with their partners so that they can get started straight away and Julie’s surprised to find that Luke is already there.

“Well look who actually decided to show up today” she remarks as she slides into the seat next to him and begins pulling out her books.

“Whatever it’s not like I’m happy about this either” he bites back shooting her a glare and Julie hopes that she’ll be able to get through this without killing him. She honestly doesn’t know how this started between the two of them but she couldn’t remember a time since they had met that they weren’t bickering with each other. Half of the school loved him, he was Luke Patterson, the popular bad boy and lead singer of Sunset Curve who all the girls wanted to be with and she understood why. He was attractive with his floppy hair, expressive eyes and not to mention the muscles that were always on display in those stupid cut up tees that he wore but that meant nothing when he just seemed to make it his mission to irritate her.

“You checking me out, Molina” he smirked, getting her attention. She glared at him and bit her tongue to stop herself from cursing at him as she turned her focus to the teacher who was running through some last points about the assignment. The truth was she was checking him out without realising that she was, a habit that she had found herself doing more often and she cursed herself for doing it yet again. 

When the teacher finishes and sets them off to begin working Julie turns to Luke ready to suggest some ideas that she has but Luke beats her to it listing off a couple of ideas that, Julie has to admit, are pretty good and Julie must have a look of surprise on her face because he questions her.

“Oh it’s nothing I’m just surprised you’re willing to do the work” she says and she almost misses the look of hurt that crosses Luke’s face that he quickly replaced with his usual look of indifference.

“Okay so what did you have in mind” he scoffs before Julie tells him her ideas and this time it’s Luke’s time to be surprised. Julie ignores this but lets a smug smile rest on her lips as they come to a compromise and combine their ideas which should hopefully turn out to get them a really good grade if all goes well. Suddenly Julie’s not feeling like working with Luke is such an inconvenience to her as they are actually getting along pretty well.

Although they’d had a double period to work on the project, they had not managed to finish it and as it turns out that a lot of other pairs in the class hadn’t either. However their teacher refused to give them another class to work on it, announcing that they had another week to work on it before he expected them to be handed in.

“If you’re free this weekend we could work on it then” Luke suggests, surprising Julie yet again as she was expecting him to say that he was busy with the band or something and that she would have to finish it by herself but she recovers quickly.

“Yeah we could meet at my place” she agrees, they decide on a time before Luke leaves and Julie meets up with Flynn who is not expecting Julie to be in as good a mood as she is.

By the time Saturday rolls around Julie is wondering if it was all too good to be true as she and Luke have spent the rest of the week arguing whenever they see each other, a sharp contrast to Monday's class. Luke is also late to Julie’s and she is starting to get annoyed that she allowed herself to think that Luke was actually going to be any help on the project. She was about to head up to her room to finish it off so that it was out of the way and she could spend the weekend hanging out with Flynn when there was a knock on the door. Opening it she finds Luke standing there with an apologetic smile on his face.

“I’m sorry I’m late I got caught up with uh family stuff but I um I brought snacks” he says holding up a bag and Julie can’t help but notice that he looks nervous which she thinks is a first for the boy standing in front of her. She lets him in and motions for him to follow her as she leads him through to the garage where she had originally planned for them to work. She watches him carefully as he looks around the room, taking in the grand piano and then his gaze falls to the guitar at the side of the couch and his eyes widen like he’s surprised.

“Do you play?” he asks.

“A little but just what mom taught me” she says, her voice trailing off when she mentions her mom and Luke nods, they may not get along but he understands how much it must have hurt for Julie to lose her mom.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you” he says and when Julie looks at him she can tell he means it as there is none of the usual mocking on his face, he looks sincere which is not an emotion she is used to seeing from him, at least not when it’s directed at her.

“You know you’re not as insufferable as I thought you were, in fact you’re kinda nice” she admits, mainly so she can change the subject and it seems to work.

“Is that a compliment I hear, Julie Molina?” Luke asks teasingly, feigning shock and Julie can’t help but laugh.

“Well don’t get used to it we’ll soon be back to normal” she jokes sitting down on the couch and gesturing for him to do the same so they can get to work. Only he doesn't move instead he stays where he is, his arms folded across his chest as he stares at her.

“Julie why do you hate me so much?” he asks, surprising Julie with the straightforwardness of his question. She sat there just looking at him, wondering where this had come from, why it looked like it was bothering him so much.

“What does it matter Luke, it’s not like you like me anyway, now can we just get on with this please?” Julie pleads, gesturing again for him to sit down and this time he does. Thinking that’s the end of it Julie opens up her book to find their work from last time but Luke has a different idea.

“What do you mean I don’t like you, Julie I’m madly in love with you, I only put on this little act because you’ve made it very clear that you don’t like me and I’d like to know why?” Luke confesses pulling the book from her hands. 

“So it’s all an act, the snide comments, the looks everything? Luke your little act is what I have the problem with” Julie says causing Luke’s eye to widen at her words and he mumbles something that Julie doesn’t quite catch before she remembers his other confession, “wait so you’re in love with me” she asks and Julie doesn’t miss the blush that spreads across Luke’s cheeks.

“Well, yeah” he replies realising there is no getting out of this after he confessed his true feelings for the girl in front of him, “it’s okay if you don’t though we can still be fri-” but Julie holds her hand up stopping him mid sentence.

“Luke, I’d like to get to know the real you, not the act, then maybe we can discuss this again but I don’t hate you,” she admits as a look of relief falls across Luke’s face.

“That I can do” Luke smiles reaching for Julie’s hand and intertwines their fingers “now let's get this finished so that I can show you the real me” Luke jokes as Julie shakes her head at him pulling away so she can pick her book back up.

[ilovefanfics2019]

Her Own Path

Part 5: A dream and a wish

Warnings: Bad dream, A sort of arguement, lots of fluff, erazermic, cute nicknames, soft Shinsou, soft Aizawa, soft Mic, gay Shinsou, fathers and daughter moments.

Characters: Aizawa, Mic, Shinsou, Eri and mention of Denki.

Description: At dinner Eri has something on her mind and at bedtime she wishes for something and her parents have a talk about it together alone.

Side notes: For Eri Daddy= Aizawa and Papa= Mic. Finally a chapter on the Erazermic family. Sorry having been posting recently I've been dealing with family drama left and right, also have fallen sick over the last couple of weeks but I'm back and hopefully will start to post regularly as I can. Hope you enjoy it 🥰

Third person pov

It was a nice quite evening in the Erasermic family househol-

"Shota I can't wait untill tomorrow" screamed aloud voice though the house startling poor Shota Aizawa who was cooking dinner. Aizawa sighed before turning around to look at his loud blond husband.

"Mic do you have to shout I'm right here" exhausted a tired looking Aizawa.

(And don't forget interrupt me the author/narrator of this story).

"Sorry Shota I didn't mean to shout" replied Mic without shouting.

(Ahem).

(And I'm sorry for inturupting you misses author/narrator).

(Thank you anyway carrying on).

"I know your excited for the festival tomorrow you have told me about a hundred times already" informed Aizawa contining to cook dinner. Mic looked at Aizawa lovingly before going to the cuboard and taking out the plates and helping Aizawa dish up dinner before setting the plates on the table.

"Dinner ready" Mic yelled out before it fell quite. Then the sound of two sets of footsteps heading towards the kitchen could be heard. One rushing and the other walking very slowly. The person of the rushing footsteps appeared in the doorway before stopping and turning around to tell at the other person to hurry up.

"I'm here now okay" a tired male voice belonging to the other set of footsteps replied out before also halting in the doorway as well. Aizawa could help smile at the sight before him whilst Mic bursted out laughing at it.

There before them was their adopted violet hair son Shinsou in a purple princess dress and a face full of make up. Whilst their young 7 year old adopted pale blue-gray hair daughter Eri stood there looking proud of what she had done to her older brother.

"Daddy, Papa do you like what I did to sou-sou?" Announced an enthusiastic Eri.

"I love it" laughted Mic whilst taking a picture so he could remember the scene before him forever.

"Purple suits Shinsou well" answered a smiling Aizawa. Eri's face lit up with a smile at the praise she got from the two adults whilst Shinsou just stood there with red cheeks from embarrassed, or is from the blush? I'll let you decide. After Shinsou came back from cleaning his face and changing out of the dress the family started their dinner.

The family made small talk about their day. Shota and Mic about UA and hero related stuff, Shinsou about how his training was going and Eri about her day with Mirio.

Aizawa's pov

I notice Eri was awfully quiet whilst eating her dinner whilst normally she be talking our ears off about random things. But she is as quiet as she was when she first had dinner with us after we rescue her from Overhaul. She seemed like she had something on her mind, so I gestured with my eyes to Mic and Shinsou to look at Eri and they both caught on to what I was think.

"Hey sis did you have fun playing princess with me?" Shinsou asked Eri with a smile. Eri just look up at Shinsou with a smile nodding her head before her smile fade as she looked back down at her plate poking at the food. Mic then tried talking with Eri.

"Is the food okay hunny-bunch?" Mic questioned Eri whilt motioning to her plate of half eaten food.

"Yeah it fine" Eri muttered not looking up this time but continuing to poke at her food. Me, Mic and Shinso all looked at each other worried.

"Princess are sure your okay, you not sick are you?" I asked worried that she might be really ill and we didn't notice earlier. She set her fork down before looking at us with a distant look.

"It's just I've had a lot on my mind recently" she sighed.

"Like what?" Shinso asked kindly.

"W-w-well I had this werid dr-dr-dream re-recently" she stuttered.

"Like a nightmares" questioned Mic gently.

"I don't know it was a werid sort of dream" she replied.

"What was it about" I asked confused to how a dream could be werid.

"This girl in some sort of pain and it looks like she lives in a dark place but is older than me and I don't know what she looks like as the dream is blurry" answered Eri. Me, Mic and Shisou all look at each other confused to why she may be having that dream as none of the girls in class 1A, who Eri knows live in a dark place and we have had no villain attacks recently so no one should be in pain, so who could it be.

"We don't know anything that may have caused you to have that dream hunny-bunch but let's not think to much about it for now" advise Mic.

"Okay" Eri replied a bit more happily this time.

Third person pov

The family continued to finish their dinner before going off and doing their own nightly routines. Shinsou having a shower before going to his room to play video games for a while, then talking to his pikachu of a boyfriend before bed. Mic also having a shower, then finish marking off some English work before settling down on the couch to watch tv. Aizawa helping Eri in the bath before helping her get ready for bed, then leaving her to settle down on the couch with Mic before having his own shower before joining the two on the couch.

Eri left the two adult to go to her room like she normally did, but didn't pick a book to read this time. Tonight she decided to settled herself in her window seat to look at the dark clear night sky which the bright and silvery stars lit up.

Aizawa and Mic both went up the stairs then started to head towards Eri's room to read to Eri like they normally did before going to bed. But the two were supprise when they got to her room to see a empty bed with no book to read and no excited Eri to read to. Instead they saw the young one horned girl sitting in her window seat looking at the starry night sky. They both came up and sat next to her, all of them were silent for a few minutes before Mic broke it.

"I think it time for bed now hunny-bunch" Mic spoke softly whilst Aizawa just nodded his head gently to signal he agreed with what his husband said.

"Okay" Eri quietly said. Eri was about to turn around so she could get down of the seat, but before she did something shooting across the sky caught her attention as well as the two adults.

"A shooting star" sang Eri excited, the two adult chuckling softly at the excited little girl.

"Do you know what to do when you see one princess?" asked a happy but sleepy Aizawa.

"Yes Mirio taught me about it, when you see a shooting star you meant to wish on it and then the wish may come true one day" answered a happy Eri.

"Are you going to wish for something hunny-bunch?" Mic asked with a smile. Eri nodded her head at him before turning back to face the window, then she took a deep breath before closing her eyes.

"I wish for an older sister but not a old as Shinsou to join our family" wished Eri happily unaware of the shocked glance shared between her two parents, which soon disappeared as Eri opened her eyes to look at the two. Eri turned to climb down before turning to speak to her parents.

"Okay I'm ready for bed now" Eri sighed happily before turning to make her way to bed along with her two parent who keep their shocked feelings to themselves not wanting to upset the small girl. They both kissed her on the head before muttering a quite "goodnight" to her, in which Eri returned the kisses and yawned a "goodnight" back before setting down to go to sleep. Aizawa closed Eri's door quietly before him and Mic made their way down the hall to their room.

Mic entered the room first before Aizawa followed closing the door to the room behind him. They both made their way to their bed before sliding under the sheets, both were quite for a while before Mic spoke out.

"So what are we going to do?" Mic asked Aizawa quietly turning to face him.

"What do you mean?" Aizawa answered confused looking at Mic with confusion.

"You know about our daughter's wish for a older sister" exclaimed Mic.

"What about it, is a just a wish and wish do not always come true" Aizawa announced.

"But we could make it come true" countered Mic with determination in his voice.

"Look I would love to make our daughter's wish come true but it just not possible many adoption shelters these days don't have a lot of older children and plus we are already very busy with raising our two adopted children, also watching over the UA kids who are sort of like our kids as well" argued Aizawa nicely.

Mic sighed a quite "I guess your right". Before Aizawa announced softly with "maybe when we are less busy we can talk about it again and involved Eri and Shinsou in the conversation next time".

Mic replied with a soft "okay".

The Aizawa and Mic exchange their goodnights with a kiss before cuddling up and settling down for the night.

Shinsou who had heard both conversations was now sat on his bed thinking about what had been said. If he was being honest he wouldn't mind having another little sister as that means he didn't have to play princesses with Eri alone anymore and he would have someone else to love and care dearly for. Yeah he wouldn't mind having another sister at all. He sighed before texting his electric blond boyfriend a goodnight as he too settle down for the night.

That night the small family of four (not including the amazing amount of cat that the family have) all fell asleep with the same dream. The dream of having another daughter, another younger sister and a older sister. All wondering if it would ever come true?

But little do they know that it would come true sooner than they think and that the girl from Eri's dream would be the one to make it come true.

[minsarasarahair]

Well, I just want to express my opinion about The House of Fata Morgana’s Tsundere Controversy to clear confusion.  

First off, let’s talk about how it started. Recently, a translator of Fata Morgana visual novel under Manga Gamer shared the experience how hard the word “Tsundere” should be translated in English. The translator then decided to change the phrase and turned it into “fragile male ego” because of the game’s context. This translator has the game developer’s permission and agreed that it suited the situation much better. Surprisingly, male gamers who never played the game strongly reacted to this because of the fact that Tsundere is not equivalent to Fragile Male Ego and assumed that the translator is pushing a feminist agenda so they start harassing the translator, Fatamoru fans, localization team and game developer. The indie game developer, Novectacle noticed this and defend the localization team. These male gamers show more of their disagreement and even uploaded some video in youtube to prove that they are right. 

What are the reasons in the first place why Novectacle decided to change it instead of translating it anyway? I’ll share my opinion in this.  1. Tsundere is a Japanese slang for Japanese otakus that has no exact English translation. This word is used when a person is putting a strong front like acting cold because they can’t admit their true feelings. A tsundere usually say line like “It’s not like I care for you or anything...”  2. Since the word has no exact English translation, they decided to change the context based on the game’s context. It’s not the first time any translation team did this. It happened in anime dubbed, foreign books, foreign movies etc. A translation team always did this for many valid reasons. It’s most likely because of country’s censorship, and difference of culture. 3. The story setting of the game is in Europe and the characters involved in this scene are not Japanese. 4. Characterization. Jacopo, the character involved in this situation has indeed a strong toxic masculinity and the author confirmed this. Thanks to it, he ended up destroying his beloved people’s lives. It’s without a doubt the core of his character.    5. Intent of the character. They probably noticed that Tsundere is too shallow to use for the situation during the translating process. Why? Morgana, the character who said this line has a very strong hate toward Jacopo. In other words, Morgana said that line to hurt him. Jacopo destroyed her life so it make sense why she insulted him. 6. Target audience. This game’s target audience is not the typical otakus. They even use a semi-realistic art style approach instead of using cutesy anime style. The message of this game is intended for special people such as born different from others, people having a gender identity crisis, men and women who are forced in gender roles because of norm’s standards. This game wishes to increase awareness that people like them do exist in our world and should be respected like normal people instead of discriminating them. The game’s intention is not to belittle men as gender but to show a different perspective that a man can be called strong as well even if it shows their weakness as a person.  

I believe that six points are the main reasons why Novectacle changed it from Tsundere to Fragile Male Ego. Tbh I think Morgana saying “drop the TOUGH GUY ACT” is probably  the closest to Tsundere. What the Localization did is just added Fragile Male Ego in the translation because of their interpretation to the character. 

I want to end this post by saying that before you criticize something, be more open-minded and do some research. In art class, we are taught to show both appreciation and criticisms. I do love feminist shows targeted for women but I also watched anime that don’t respect women. What’s funny about that is I don’t show my remorse about it. Joker Game, an anime series about male spies stated that they are not fond of women spies because women tend to be emotional and destroy their missions. I still like that show tho.

Anyway, if you’re not open-minded don’t play the game because it’s obviously not for you. Morgana insulted Jacopo’s male ego in just less than 5 lines and it’s even not part of the main story. It’s just a behind the scene footage where Morgana insults literally everyone. Not only Jacopo’s male ego. Also, Jacopo as a character don’t deserve to be defended and his fans knew it. It’s a fact that Morgana didn’t generalized that all men has fragile male ego. She only did that to Jacopo because she LOATHED him. I hope I cleared the misunderstandings. The localization team did a great job and no one can change that. Period.

[justaghostingon]

Merfolk are Overrated

Chapter 4: To The Shore

Kodya’s class takes a fieldtrip, and it goes about as well as can be expected when you let three curious mermaids loose in a general store.

Read on ao3 here https://archiveofourown.org/works/25041904/chapters/62957779

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As the weeks rolled by, a pattern began to emerge. Kodya would wake up early and go out fishing, just like before. Only now three bright-colored heads would rise from the water to greet him as soon as he cut the engine, the Kid at the forefront with some small gift to appease Kodya. He would still set out the nets, like always. But now a mermaid or two would be there to try and help. Occasionally one, usually Red, would get stuck and need to be cut out. Kodya would still eat his lunches out on the water like always, but now those lunches would be shared by three mermaids chattering and snacking themselves. Even Fluffy would mime out an opinion or two. Then after lunch, Kodya would start teaching.

Gyrus was, by far, the best student Kodya had ever seen. It took him almost no time to learn basic math, and soon he was calculating faster and with greater accuracy than Kodya himself could. Kodya had once tried to explain how budgeting worked to illustrate why his nets were so important, and by that evening Gyrus had completely reorganized his budget to the point where he was saving more money than he’d thought was possible. In all honesty, Kodya was pretty sure Gyrus was some kind of super genius, and found he was rapidly running out of things to teach him.

If he’d only known the Kid, Kodya is pretty sure that he would have chalked up Gyrus’ super-intelligence to just a siren thing. But alas, it appeared that great age did not translate to skill with numbers, as both Fluffy and Red were leagues behind. Not that they were terrible, Kodya begrudgingly noted that if they had been to elementary school together they both have had higher grades than he did. But they needed a slower pace, and often Kodya found he had to slow down the lesson to accommodate them.

If teaching them all math had been their only goal, Kodya would have tried giving Fluffy and Red more class hours while sending the Kid off to do homework or something. But neither Fluffy or Red showed any particular interest in putting extra work into improving their own skills. They’d put up a show to support Gyrus of course, but Fluffy’s constant fidgeting and Red’s frustrated growls made it very clear they did not really want to be there. This in turn made Gyrus get distracted trying to explain and keep them interested, meaning he didn’t advance either. Eventually Kodya just got tired of it and told them to go out and help fish every other afternoon, while he focused on more advanced material with Gyrus.

This they happily accepted, only attending class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and leaving  Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays to the Kid and Kodya. Kodya would never admit it, but these days were his favorite. He’d stay out way longer than he usually did, just to keep whatever conversation the Kid inevitably dragged him into going. He hadn’t enjoyed another person’s company this much since he’d met Nephthys.

Nephthys noticed the change in behavior, commenting about how mopey he got while away from the sea, and giggling that he might have gotten a boyfriend he didn’t tell her about. Kodya was quick to deny this, but more than willing to talk about whatever trouble Red, Fluffy, and the Kid got into, under the pretense of being pesky dolphins of course. Such stories would appease her curiosity, and she rarely went beyond light teasing as she watched Kodya inevitably perk up as the weekend drew to a close and Monday neared.

It was on one such Monday that Kodya finally worked up the courage to ask Gyrus a question that had been weighing on him for a while.

“So how old are you anyways?” Kodya said, eyes on the white board as he wrote out a few problems he’d created based off of his and Nephthys’s shopping lists and an old book about store finance.

“Probably around your age,” Gyrus shrugged, to absorbed in his work on the problems to notice the way Kodya had shut the book to look at him sharply.

“And how old do you think I am?” Kodya pressed.

“I don’t know, 200s right?” Gyrus glanced up at him, and finally seemed to realize something was wrong. “Are you older?” He offered, looking embarrassed, and not at all like a being who was most certainly not a kid.

“I’m 24,” Kodya stated, voice flat. Now what am I going to call you? He mentally despaired.

“24?” Gyrus’ mouth fell open. “But you can’t be! You’re clearly an adult!”

“Of course I’m an adult!” Kodya crossed his arms, “I’ve been an adult for six years!”

“18?” Gyrus’ tail twitched in agitation. “Humans reach maturity so young? How long do you live?”

Kodya shifted uncomfortably at his tone, feeling slightly offended. He wasn’t the weird one here. “We live to be around 80? Some a bit less and some a bit longer, you know, a normal amount.”

“That’s so short,” Gyrus shook his head. “I can’t even…how can you stand it?”

“Hey!” Kodya scowled down at Gyrus, “Most creatures live way shorter life spans, so I’d say you living so long is the weird one here. We do just fine with 80 years thanks.”

Gyrus placed his head in his hands. “Every time I think I’m beginning to understand humans, I find out there’s so much more I don’t know.” He looked very small then, and forlorn. Kodya felt his anger dissipate.

“Look, Kid,” he said, drawing the last word on his tongue to see if Gyrus would notice and protest. He didn’t, and so Kodya plowed on. “You’re doing fine. You’ve learned everything I taught you way quicker than anyone I’ve ever seen.”

“Not everything,” Gyrus sighed as he picked up his whiteboard. “I can do the calculations, sure, but I don’t really get all the words. Like this one,” he pointed to a problem, “35 cents for bananas. What are bananas? I know they must be food from how you talk about them, but I have no idea what they look like. And this!” He jabbed a finger at one of the words, “Bug spray! How do you get something as small as a bug to spray anything?”

“Slow down Kid,” Kodya interrupted and Gyrus deflated at the sound of his voice. “I can bring you a banana and bug spray if you want.”

“But even if you did, there would inevitably be something else I can’t picture or misunderstand. I just wish,” he sighed again, pulling his emerald tail close around his body. “I just wish I could see it all for myself.”

His lower lip started to tremble, and Kodya felt his heart clench at the sight. “Maybe you could,” he said, and then instantly wanted to hit himself for promising something so impossible. But Gyrus was looking at him with wide, watery eyes like Kodya just promised him the moon, and Kodya couldn’t bring himself to deny him anything.

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

The old shed opened with the loud grating noise of rusted hinges. Kodya winced slightly at the sound, before pushing forward into the crowded space before him. Nephthys had said the inflatable kiddie pool was just in here the last time she’d seen it. But that had been nearly seven years ago, back when she’d tried to teach him how to swim in exchange for teaching her written English. Those lessons had not lasted very long, in part because Kodya was much less gracious as a student than as a teacher, and in part because the drowning incident had still been fresh in his mind.

He shoved aside The fishing rod he’d gotten for his Mom at fifteen, still as clean and unused as the day he’d bought it, and some of her old Navy Seal camping gear. Where was it? It should be with the practical stuff…

Something bright and pink caught his eye, the faded plastic tucked quietly in a corner behind some old storage bins. Kodya waded over towards it and gave it a gentle tug, pulling out of another box labeled POOL in his mother’s loopy handwriting. He pulled the cumbersome plastic out, and stopped.

There was something else in the bin, soft against his hands. Weird. He couldn’t think of anything pool related that was soft, and his mother was usually so organized. He looked down to see a strange fur wrap below. It was plain brown, with faded spots making a star pattern along it. One edge was jagged and sharp, with bits of leather skin poking out below it. Kodya ran a finger down the edge, and wondered if someone had taken a blunt knife to it.

The plastic of the pool rustled against the boxes as Kodya shifted, drawing his attention back towards it. He shut the pool box with a snap. Whatever it was, it didn’t concern him. His mother could sort it out on her own time. He had a mermaid’s day to make.

---------

“I’m back!” Kodya called as two brightly colored heads appeared in the water. “And you’ll never believe what I brought for you today!”

Gyrus beamed at him, and Kodya took a minute to examine that lovely smile and enjoy how it was all for him. “We’ve got something to show you too!” the Kid exclaimed, “Do you want to see it?”

“Sure Kid,” Kodya allowed himself a slight twitch of his lips, wondering what seaglass or shells Gyrus had brought for him today. “But I’ll bet mine’s better.”

Red and the Kid exchanged glances, before Red sighed. “Just so we are clear,” she said, “I do not fully approve of this idea.” So saying, she dove into the water, and in her place rose a single white corner, then another and another, until there was a great white box with a handle sticking out the side.

Kodya blinked. “What is that supposed to be?” He asked, squinting at the sides. Something about the faded pink stickers looked familiar. Was that ice cream?

“It’s a box with wheels!” Gyrus proclaimed, gesturing to the suspiciously familiar object. Kodya raised an eyebrow, and the Kid blushed. “Lift it higher!” Gyrus hissed, and the white box raised above the water, allowing for both the wheels and Fluffy’s head to come into view.

“See?” Gyrus’ purple orbs practically glowed. Beside him Fluffy beamed and even Red looked a bit smug.

“I see,” said Kodya, feeling somewhat baffled. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“That’s the best part!” the Kid’s green tail surfaced to slash the top of the water excitedly. It went straight into Tori’s face and she sputtered, causing one end to dip back into the water. “This box holds water! Without it coming out! If you put me in this I could come with you to shore!”

Well that diminished Kodya’s surprise a bit. He felt a bit hurt. He’d put a lot of thought into his kiddie pool. But he shook it off in favor of squinting at the white cart. It was looking more and more familiar the more he stared.

“Is that,-” he frowned, “- Oli’s ice cream cart?!” Oli’s ice cream was a staple on the beach in the summer months, and he’d recently upgraded to owning a portable cart that he employed Anan to push around and increase business. But Anan had lost it under what he claimed was a sudden storm. Kodya narrowed his eyes. “Did you hypnotize Anan into giving that up?”

“We didn’t hypnotize anyone,” Red sniffed. “This was a gift.”

“We just asked, and he handed it right over!” Gyrus added. “He didn’t even stop to question why we were all in the water!”

Fluffy batted her eyelashes and then threw Kodya a wink, and Kodya had the sneaking suspicion that they had used a different method of coercion instead. But hey, he shrugged. Oli hadn’t held that much of a grudge, and it was high time Anan learned a lesson about not giving in to the whims of every pretty girl that smiled at him.

“So what was it you brought for us?” Gyrus asked innocently, and all three mermaids' attention snapped to him.

“Oh,” Kodya rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I kinda brought something similar, only bigger, and with no wheels.”

“Really?” Gyrus beamed. “That’s great! Now we can all go on land!” All? Kodya opened his mouth to protest. He could hide maybe one mermaid, but three?

“That would set some of my fears to rest,” Red said, sounding appeased. “I did not want to leave Gyrus to wander this strange world without protection.”

Fluffy began bobbing up and down in the water, splashing wildly with the ice cream cart to show her enthusiasm.

I’m not getting out of this, Kodya realized with a sinking dread as all three mermaids celebrated around him. I need a plan.

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

The plan was simple. Really. Early in the morning, Kodya would meet the three mermaids at the docks. There was a rainstorm scheduled for Thursday, perfect for both providing cover and keeping the mermaids wet. Kodya would load the three of them into the back of his truck, where they would climb into the kiddy pool. Then Kodya would drive really slowly into town, pull out the white cart, now covered in a blanket to pass as a wheelchair, and wheel each mermaid through the store. Simple.

The first part went off without a hitch. It was indeed raining on Thursday morning, the icky, thick, constant rain that made it very uncomfortable to be outside for long periods of time. When Kodya arrived on the dock, he found it deserted. Perfect.

“Guys?” he hissed as he scanned the dark waves. “It’s time.” Three multicolored heads rose from below the dock to greet him.

“That took too long,” Red grumbled. “I had half thought ye’d grown cold feet.”

“It took longer to fill the pool than I expected,” Kodya sighed. “Now come on.” He extended his arms towards Fluffy, who was closest.

Red batted his hand away. “I’ll go first,” she snapped. “It is my duty as champion of the queen to ensure the safety of the rest of the pod.” Kodya rolled his eyes, but complied, hauling her surprisingly light body up into the air. Sylvia went next, eagerly wrapping strong arms around his neck as he lifted her up into the truck too.

And then at last, it was Gyrus’ turn. Kodya reached down for him, determined not to react. It was just a simple assist after all. Kodya could feel both warm skin and slick scales as he carefully lifted him into the air. Gyrus’ arms wrapped around Kodya’s neck, pulling close to Kodya’s chest and soaking his already wet shirt further.

Gyrus ran a curious hand through his hair, playing with the hair tie in the back. “You’re hair feels so strange dry,” He murmured, lavender orbs hypnotic. Their faces were inches apart, and Kodya froze. They hadn’t been this close since the day they met, when Gyrus had called him perfect, and the mere memory sent Kodya’s whole face alight. Gyrus gave the slightest of frowns as he ran gentle fingers through Kodya’s hair. “What’s wrong?”

“If ye are quite finished,” Tori’s loud voice broke through Kodya’s haze, “the sooner we start this, the sooner we can get back to the sea.”

Kodya yelped, placing Gyrus hastily in the back of the truck and ducking his head as he hurried to the front. Still bright red, he gripped the back of the wheel and took several deep breaths. He needed to focus damn it. Or this whole trip would end in disaster.

Disaster…the various, horrible ends of this hair brained scheme were enough to bring him back to reality. If he messed up here, the mermaids could end up in an aquarium, or worse, dissected. He took a deep breath and put the truck in drive. By the time he’d reached the store, the image of Gyrus’ face so close to his own was properly suppressed in the back of his mind.

---------

Step two turned out to have its own set of problems. Namely that as soon as he put the truck in park, he found the mermaids arguing in the back about who would go in first.

“It will be I,” Red’s arms were crossed. “It’s my job to keep you safe, there’s no point in arguing.”

“You don’t even want to see the store!” Gyrus scowled. “Nor do you know as much about humans as I do! And besides,” he crossed his arms, “I’ll be with Kodya so there’s no need to protect me!” He glanced to the side. “Right Sylvia?”

Fluffy threw up her hands in a clear signal of, keep me out of this!

“What’s the problem now?” Kodya massaged the space between his brow. Both Red and the Kid turned on him.

“I am going first, and that is final,” Red snapped at the same time Gyrus said,

“It isn’t fair!”

Kodya sighed, considering. On the one hand, letting Red go first would strengthen the fragile trust they had formed. On the other hand, the Kid was far, far too old to be babied like Red wanted, and going first with Red meant introducing her to Alistair. Kodya squared his shoulders. He’d rather avoid whatever fight she’d pick for as long as possible.

“It’s the Kid’s trip, he gets to go first,” he said, and Red scowled while Gyrus lit up.

“Alright!” Gyrus pulled himself to the edge of the truck to avoid the angry Red. “Help me down and let’s get going!”

“Not so fast kid!” Kodya scolded. “I’ve got to get the wheelchair ready first.” He pulled out the ice cream cart and opened the lid, revealing the cold water he’d taken from his hose the night before.

Carefully, he picked Gyrus up again, this time avoiding eye contact, and plopped him inside. Access water flooded over the edge and distracted the Kid while Kodya tried to hide his blush. To distract himself, he fiddled with the lid, wondering how it would close without bothering the top sticking out.

“This is so exciting!” Gyrus turned to Kodya, eyes shining. Kodya’s hands tightened on the lid at the sight, and a crack came from underneath them. Both Gyrus and Kodya looked down at the now unattached lid. Well, Kodya thought. There goes that problem.

The blanket was thrown over the top to hide the water and the faded ice cream stickers, and the makeshift wheelchair was ready to go. There was just one thing missing. “Here.” Kodya pulled out an old shirt and handed it to Gyrus. “Humans can’t go in stores without full clothing,” he explained, trying to make it seem normal and not like he’d spent hours agonizing over which one of his old shirts to give to Gyrus.

“Thank you,” Gyrus murmured, pulling the bright yellow shirt, specifically chosen to match the yellow tips of his tail, over his head. “Yellow is my favorite color.” Kodya shrugged as casually as he could, but tucked that little piece of information away in his brain.

“Time to go,” he said, stepping behind the cart pushing it towards the door.

---------

As Kodya predicted, Gyrus loved the store. He found everything about it fascinating. From the food to the overpriced towels and swimwear for tourists. Kodya thought he would explode when he found the nets Kodya usually bought and recognized them. He wanted to know how everything worked, what it all did, and why Kodya would or wouldn’t buy it. The towels in particular fascinated him, as he had known humans hated to be too wet, but he’d never realized what a big deal it was until he saw all the different patterns and colors. He was quite disappointed when Kodya broke it to him that the colors and patterns were purely decorative, and didn’t hold any significance at all.

Eventually they got down to business. Kodya walked Gyrus through his grocery list, explaining what each item looked like and what it did. Gyrus seemed to have memorized the prices, and was more than eager to read off the numbers and comment on cheaper options available. Kodya would then have to justify his choice, usually because of quality, and explain it to an attentive Gyrus. It was a long process, but Kodya didn’t think he’d ever had this much fun shopping for groceries before.

But as Kodya finished explaining about bananas and how they worked, he noticed Gyrus’ mood had taken a turn for the morose.

“What’s wrong?” Kodya asked, as Gyrus stared glumly down at the bunch of bananas in his hands. “Am I going too fast?”

“No, no,” Gyrus sighed. “It’s stupid.” Kodya crossed his arms, waiting, and Gyrus shifted the bananas into one hand to run the free one through his hair. “It’s not that I’m not grateful you brought me here so I could see everything, it’s just,” he peaked up at Kodya through his starshaped bangs, “there’s so much of it. I’ll never learn it all today, even if we didn’t have to hurry up and give Tori and Sylvia their turn.”

“Who said you had to learn it all today?” Kodya pointed out. “We’ve got the pool and the wheelchair now. We can definitely come back here again.”

“But it won’t always be raining,” Gyrus pointed out. “You might get seen helping us out of the water.”

Kodya waved a hand as he began to push Gyrus forward. “We’ll just have to figure out another way then. You’re smart. You know what the hurdles are, you come up with something.”

Gyrus shot Kodya a small smile. “Thank you Kodya,” he said. “You really are the best person to teach me.” Kodya ducked his head and pushed harder, trying to hide his blush.

“Kodya? Is that you? I thought I recognized you wandering about my store!” Kodya’s head snapped up to see Alistair waving from the counter. Oh no. “But who is this handsome stranger you’ve brought with you?” Alistair practically jumped over the counter to see better. It took all of Kodya’s strength not to grab the cart's controls and wheel them both out the door.

“Careful Alistair!” Kodya shouted as the man stepped closer and began shamelessly feeling up Gyrus’ muscles. “He’s in a wheelchair!” He pushed Alistair away as Gyrus starred with a look of absolute puzzlement on his face.

“Of course, of course!” Alistair said as he stepped back to lean on his counter. “What’s your name, handsome?”

“I’m Gyrus,” Gyrus said, sounding faintly amused. “Nice to meet you.”

“A pleasure! An absolute pleasure! I am Alistair, and this is my humble store!” Alistair gave a sweeping gesture to encompass the whole building. Kodya rolled his eyes at his theatrics.

“Are you really?” Gyrus asked, sounding intrigued. “Where do you get all the items for sale?”

“Trying to find my sources? How shameless,” Alistair raised an eyebrow and Gyrus blushed, sensing he’d done something wrong. Kodya scowled. “But don’t worry!” Alistair laughed. “My sources are all local, like our charming mutual friend, Kodya here!” He pointed to Kodya who crossed his arms.

“I don’t supply you that often,” Kodya grumbled.

“Oh come now Kodya, don’t be modest.” Alistair winked, he leaned over to Gyrus and whispered, “He caught me a great white shark, I still have the teeth if you want to buy them!”

“I know,” Gyrus smiled. “But I don’t need another shark’s tooth.”

“Another?” Alistair drew back in shock, mouth hanging open. He glanced wildly between Gyrus and Kodya. “You don’t mean to tell me our grumpy Kodya snagged a stud like you?”

“We aren’t dating Alistair,” Kodya stepped in before Gyrus had a chance to misunderstand. “I’m just showing him around while he’s in the states.”

“So he’s single?” Alistair said, and Kodya felt his heart stop.

“Kodya’s been really kind to me!” Gyrus piped up, clearly hoping to back up the illusion of being new to the area. “He’s taught me so much about these states!”

“Oh really? And what has he taught you?” Alistair leaned forward into Gyrus’ personal space.

“Lots! I’ve learned about money, and the presidents on the bills, and dinosaurs…” Gyrus began to rattle off all the things he’d recently learned while Alistair took the opportunity to stare shamelessly at his lips.

Kodya rolled his eyes, disgusted, then froze. Out of the corner of his eye he could have sworn he’d seen a blue tail.

-----------

Kodya stalked through the store, following the telltale trail of water down the aisles. He hated to leave the Kid alone with Alistair, but he trusted him to be able to handle himself and keep Alistair distracted while Kodya hunted down their real problem.

Speaking of which, he turned a corner to find one half of the dynamic duo munching happily away on the fish in the deli. “Fluffy!” Kodya hissed, as the pink-haired mermaid turned her wide eyes on him. “What are you doing here? And where’s Red?” He’d seen a blue tail, and unless Fluffy had changed her forest green scales blue and back in the last minute, there was no way she was alone.

Fluffy shrugged, gesturing to the fish in front of her to say, I don’t know, I got distracted by the food.

Kodya cursed, striding forward to grab Fluffy bodily and drag her away with a cry of, “you aren’t supposed to be here!” His motion startled Fluffy, whose tail whipped around and knocked the whole deli over, sending the whole display of fish directly on top of her.

Kodya and Fluffy froze. Panicked blue meeting panicked brown. For a second all was still, until in the silence the clunking sound of heavy boots began to fill the air. Fluffy sprang into action, covering herself with the fish in an attempt to blend in. Kodya helped, figuring that if whoever was coming mistook her tail for another fish they might just by themselves some time.

They had just finished when Knox, an employee of Alistair’s store, rounded the corner. “I heard a loud noise, and have been instructed to look for damages,” he said in that monotone voice of his.

Kodya could have cried with relief. If there was one word that summed Knox up, it was gullible. “Don’t just stand there!” He snapped, putting on his most thunderous expression. “Get the first aid kit!” Knox paused, eyes traveling from Kodya’s face to Sylvia’s fish covered tail, to her big puppy dog eyes about to overflow with tears.

“I will retrieve it,” he said, voice still montone, but there was a quickness in his step that betrayed his concern. As soon he turned the corner Kodya let out a relieved sigh.

Fluffy beamed up at Kodya, clearly ecstatic that it had worked. Kodya frowned back at her. “We still need to get out of here before he gets back,” he pointed out.

Fluffy rolled her eyes with the clear message of, you worry too much. And no Kodya wasn’t having that. He grabbed her arm and tugged it upwards.

“Come on,” he said as Fluffy obligingly circled her arms around his neck so he could lift her up. “We’ve got to find Red and get out of here before he comes back.”

“Before who comes back?” Kodya and Fluffy’s heads snapped to the right to see Tori emerging from the towel section. “And what was that noise?”

“What were you thinking!” Kodya felt his fury return in full force. “You knew you had to wait in the truck!” Fluffy looked down guiltily, but Red crossed her arms.

“I am the Champion of the Queen.” She scowled. “It is my duty to keep Gyrus safe. You were taking too long.”

“Gyrus is perfectly fine!” Kodya hissed, taking a step forward. “But now thanks to you two, I had to leave him alone, and now I have to get you out of here before anyone sees your tails and calls the press!”

Red drew herself up to her full height, which given half of her was a floppy fishtail, wasn’t that impressive. “I am perfectly capable of…” But Fluffy held up a hand to stop her, cocking her ear as if listening. Kodya and Tori followed her example, and Kodya’s heart stopped once again.

Footsteps.

Red dove towards the racks of towels as Kodya looked around wildly for a place to stash Fluffy. Could he throw her back into the fish?

Too soon the footsteps came to a halt. Kodya froze as a very familiar voice said, “Kody?”

Slowly Kodya turned around to see Nephthys standing in the aisle, eyes wide as she took in Red half hidden behind the towels and Fluffy still in Kodya’s arms. “Neph, I can explain,” he started, but she shook her head.

“Alistair is coming!” She said as she pulled out her purse. “Distract him while I fix this!” Kodya wanted to argue he’d be better able to carry both mermaids, wanted to ask why she wasn’t reacting, but the look in her eyes told him not to argue. He wordlessly handed off Fluffy and hurried back to where Alistair and Gyrus were waiting.

“Kodya!” Alistair called out. “What was that all about?”

“You just left,” Gyrus added, a bit reproachfully. “Then we heard a huge crash.”

Kodya waved a hand. “An accident. But don’t worry, Nephthys is taking care of it.” He shot Gyrus a look that he hoped communicated, help me distract him.

Alistair was still frowning, concern clear on his face. “I should still check it out, someone could have been hurt.”

“You really don’t have to,” Kodya said, and Gyrus added,

“Didn’t you say you can’t leave the counter to avoid losing a sale?”

Alistair stroked his beard, looking torn. “This is true, but I really can’t ignore people hurt in my store…” his face split into a sly grin that made Kodya’s stomach drop. “So Gyrus, you’re hired!”

“I’m what?” Gyrus stared in confusion.

“Wait a minute!” Kodya protested. “You can’t just hire Gyrus!” He was a mermaid for one, with a tail and no social security!

“Why not?” Alistair beamed. “He’s got all the qualifications: He has an understanding of basic math, thinks Andrew Jackson isn’t worthy of his position on the twenty dollar bill, and best of all, he’s really cute!” Alistair winked at Kodya and turned to Gyrus, “So what do you say? I’ll pay you an entry level salary, but with your brain and looks you’re likely to get promoted no problem!”

“You’ll pay me?” Gyrus blinked. “In money?”

Alistair opened his mouth to reply, an amused smile on his lips, just as Nephthys rounded the corner with Fluffy on her shoulder and another woman with red hair helping Nephthys support her. “Time to go Kody!”

Kodya wasted no time, grabbing Gyrus’s wheelchair’s handles as Gyrus scrambled for the grocery bags and began wheeling him out after the three women.

“Wait a minute,” Alistair started, “What happened?” But Nephthys waved her free hand behind her.

“Got it handled, take care of the mess and bill me!” She cried as she pushed through the door, a towel wrapped over Fluffy’s tail as she and the familiar looking stranger carried her out. Kodya and Gyrus followed, leaving a confused Alistair behind as they stepped into the open air.

“Where’s Red?” Kodya asked as soon as they got to the safety of the truck. He and the blue-tailed mermaid never saw eye to eye, but he didn’t want to leave her stuck in there.

“I’m right here,” snapped the woman with the red hair, “or have you gone blind?” Kodya blinked, and blinked again, his brain not catching up with his eyes. His gaze traveled down, from her distinctive red hair, to her odd plated shirt, to the towel tied around her waist, and her….

“You have legs!” Gyrus screamed, finger pointing in shock. Kodya blinked again, and yes. That was what his brain was struggling to comprehend. Before them both stood Red, on two legs and looking utterly human.

Tori placed a hand on her hip. “Yes, thanks to the potion the witch gave me.” She gestured to Nephthys with her other hand.

Kodya’s eyes flicked to Nephthys, and she gave him jazz hands with an awkward smile. “Surprise?”

[kibblesnackz]

Indigo Rivers of Blood

(CH2) School)

Indigo woke up to the sound of their alarm. It blared loudly. Indigo turned off the alarm and sat up, rubbing their eyes. They checked their phone to see the time. It was 6:30am. Indigo sighed.

They got up out of bed and walked to the bathroom. They brushed their teeth and then walked to the kitchen.

Indigo looked in the fridge and ate some yogurt. They grabbed a muffin from the pantry and wolfed it down. Indigo grabbed their lunchbox and packed a peanut butter sandwich, a caprisun, and some raspberries. Indigo grabbed their backpack, shoved in the lunchbox amongst other things for school.

Indigo then changed their clothes. They decided to wear black basketball shorts and a green shirt with a smiley face. Indigo grabbed their phone and put it in their pocket. They put on their shoes. By the time Indigo was ready to go to school, it was 7:00am. Indigo's mother had texted Indigo the directions to the school. Indigo's mother was already at work.

Indigo grabbed their backpack, swung it on their back, and walked out the door. They looked at the text messages, and realized the school was very close. Indigo ran to the school, not wanting to be late, and when they got to the school, Indigo stared at the school. It was gigantic. A wave of nervousness went through Indigo. Indigo shook off the feeling, and walked through the doors of the school. Indigo saw groups of other highschoolers. As soon as Indigo walked past them, the groups of highschoolers stopped and stared at Indigo. Some kids pointed, some kids whispered. Not only were the highschoolers talking about Indigo being the new student, but also, the flowers growing out of Indigo's body. Indigo walked to the front office to get their schedule and locker code.

The office door was open. The secretary was there. She was a toad. She was also old. Indigo walked in the office nervously.

"Hi! I-um- need my schedule." Indigo said.

"Oh, you must be the new student, right? You're Indigo?" The secretary asked. The secretary stared at the flowers growing on Indigo's face.

"Yup." Indigo said simply.

"Okay, here's your schedule," The secretary said, handing a piece of paper with Indigo's schedule and locker code to Indigo. "And your locker code."

"Thanks." Indigo said politely.

The secretary nodded, and Indigo walked away. It only took a minute for Indigo to locate their locker. Of course, as Indigo squeezed through the crowded hall many highschoolers stared at them. When Indigo got to their locker, they put in the code, and opened the locker. The shoved their backpack in, and grabbed their books and stuff. They closed the locker, and stared at their schedule. Their homeroom class was close by.

Indigo sprinted to the classroom, clutching their books and schedule. When Indigo got in the classroom, they checked their phone. It was 7:30am. Indigo was just in time, with five minutes to spare. The homeroom teacher greeted Indigo. The teacher was a dog.

"Hello. You're Indigo, right?" The teacher asked.

"Yup." Indigo said.

"Your desk is over there." The teacher said.

Indigo walked to their desk. It was in the middle of the classroom. Indigo set down their books on the desk. They started putting the books in the desk. As Indigo was doing this, the classroom began to fill up with other highschoolers. Some whispered to each other, some stared, and some completely ignored Indigo.

Once everyone was in their seats, the teacher said, "Hello, students! We have a new student. Indigo, please come up to the front of the class."

Indigo nervously walked up to the front of the class.

"Now Indigo, please tell the class a little bit about yourself." The teacher said.

"Uh- hi-" Indigo cleared their throat. "I'm Indigo, I just moved here yesterday, I use they/them pronouns. I really like rootbeer and pizza."

"Why do you have flowers on your face?" A student asked.

This caused a ripple of students whispering to each other.

"I was born like this." Indigo said. They flicked their tail, the scales on their tail making a loud thud against the floor.

Everyone in the classroom flinched. Everyone other than Indigo and the teacher. Someone in the back of the classroom shrieked.

"Settle down! Settle down!" The teacher exclaimed sternly to the students. The teacher turned to Indigo and said, "You may return to your desk."

Indigo walked back to their desk and sat down. They listened to what the teacher said and stuff.

After about half an hour, homeroom class was done, and the class exited the classroom. Indigo grabbed their books and noticed a shiba inu staring at them. The shiba inu had dazzling green eyes. The shibe was also wearing a green and white striped crop-top and jean shorts that had the bisexual flag and the non-binary flag patters stitched on. Indigo nodded a greeting to the shiba inu, and walked out of the class. Indigo walked to their locker, putting away the books they didn't need for the next class, and grabbing the books they did need. Indigo's next class was English class. Indigo checked the time. It was 8:05am. Indigo closed their locker, and began to walk to the English class classroom. It was all the way at the end of the hallway. Indigo huffed a sigh and sprinted. As they were halfway to the English class, Indigo saw a white wolf cornering the shiba inu from earlier. Indigo swiveled their ears to hear what the wolf was saying to the shiba inu.

"....Come on, you  know you want me..." The wolf was saying to the shiba inu.

"....Can you just leave me alone, PLEASE....!" The shiba inu growled at the wolf.

"Shut up, slut. You know you want me." The wolf said to the shiba inu, in a demanding tone.

"...leave me the fuck alone.." The shiba inu said to the wolf.

The wolf raised his hand and slapped the shiba inu in the face. The shiba inu looked shocked. Indigo ran over when they saw that happen.

"The fuck is going on over here?!" Indigo growled at the wolf.

"None of your business, flower-face." The wolf growled.

"He was hitting on me, and then he slapped me!" The shiba inu said.

"Shut up, slut!" The wolf said. He reached over to slap the shiba inu again, but Indigo grabbed the wolf's arm before he could touch the shiba inu.

"Don't touch the shiba inu." Indigo growled. "Or else."

"Or else what? Hmm? What could a weakling like you d-" The wolf belittled Indigo.

Vines from Indigo's face began to wrap around the wolf's arm. The wolf had a brief look of terror on his face before it was replaced by a smirk. The wolf began to struggle of Indigo's grasp. Then the vines wrapped tighter. The wolf's smug look then dropped to terror again.

"LET GO OF ME!" The wolf shrieked like a little kid.

"I thought you were the big bad wolf! Why are you so scared?" Indigo teased the wolf.

The wolf attempted to punch Indigo with his free arm, but Indigo just wrapped vines around that arm, too.

"If you promise not to bother the shiba inu anymore, I'll let you go without a gaping wound." Indigo said, with the last part in a weird voice.

"Okay, fine! I wont bother the slut anymore!" The wolf said, terrified.

"If I catch you harassing the shibe, you wont have a tail." Indigo threatened.

The wolf nodded fearfully, and Indigo let him go. Once the wolf ran away with his tail between his legs, Indigo and the shiba inu realized that there was a small crowd gathered around them. Indigo stared at the group, their intense purple eyes sparked fear in some of the students in the crowd. The crowd dispersed, and Indigo turned to the shiba inu.

"Are you okay?" Indigo asked the shiba inu.

"That was badass." The shibe said. "Also, yeah I'm okay."

"Thank goodness that you're okay." Indigo said. "Anyway, what's yer name?"

"I'm River." The shiba inu said. River checked their watch. "Oh shit! I gotta head to class!"

"What time is it?" Indigo asked.

"8:30!" River said.

Indigo frantically picked up their books and stuff.

"Do you have English class?" Indigo asked.

"Yup." River said hurriedly, picking up their books.

"I also have English class." Indigo said. "Here, I'll carry some of your books for you."

"Thanks!" River said while Indigo picked up the books off the floor.

Indigo and River sprinted to the English class. Luckily, they were on time, as the bell just rung as soon as they entered the classroom. Indigo gave River's books back to River, and River walked to a seat at the back of the classroom.

The teacher, who was a fox, nodded a greeting to Indigo, and pointed to Indigo's desk, which happened to be at the back of the room next to River's desk. Indigo walked over,  and set their books down on their desk. Indigo shoved their books in their desk. The class went smoothly.

After English class came Math. After that, It was lunch time. Indigo put their stuff away in their locker, and grabbed their lunchbox. They sat down at a table with River and some other students. They talked, and Indigo made friends with a few of the other students. Indigo got River's phone number also. Indigo made a group chat with River and some of the other students.

After lunch was Science. That class went smoothly. When that class was over and it was the end of the school day, Indigo got all their stuff and walked out of the school.

As Indigo walked out of the school and began to walk home, they realized someone was following them. Indigo turned around, tail lifted defensively. It was the wolf from earlier.

"What is it that you want?" Indigo asked, mildly irritated.

"You need to be taught a lesson for what you did earlier." The wolf said.

"I defended River. I don't think that warrants a 'lesson'." Indigo said.

The wolf growled. He flicked his tail, and two other wolves walked out of some bushes. Both had the same pure white fur that the first wolf had.

"Wow. You're so weak that you have to have not one, but two other wolves protecting you." Indigo laughed. "Not only are you weak, but you're lazy! Grow a pair of balls, dude, and fight me like a real wolf."

The first wolf growled. The other two also growled.

"Bone, Cloud, go teach the fox a lesson!" The first wolf growled.

"Got it, Kyle!" One of the white wolves, Bone, said.

Cloud, the other wolf, nodded.

Indigo burst out laughing.

"Ey, what's so funny?" Bone growled.

"K-Kyle?! What the fuck kinda name is that?!"Indigo stuttered from laughing. "And don't get me started on 'Cloud'! And seriously, Bone? Your parents couldn't come up with something creative?"

Indigo's laughter filled the wolves with even more anger. Bone ran at Indigo and tackled Indigo to the sidewalk.

(TRIGGER WARNING! BLOOD, AND VIOLENCE!)

"Ack-" Indigo yelped.

Indigo hissed and bit down on Bone's shoulder, drawing blood. Bone yelped. Indigo scrambled out from under Bone. Bone jumped up and attempted to punch Indigo. Indigo dodged. Cloud then came after Indigo, but Indigo pushed him down and punched him in his face. Indigo saw Cloud's phone on the ground, and stomped on it, breaking it. Bone pushed Indigo, and Indigo stumbled and fell on the ground. They were back up in seconds. Indigo whacked Bone in the crotch with their tail. Bone stumbled away, with tears in his eyes and an extremely pained expression. Cloud bit Indigo's arm, drawing blood. He looked confused when he realized Indigo's blood was blue. While Cloud was momentarily distracted, Indigo took that opportunity to kick Cloud really hard in the gut. Cloud groaned in pain, clutching his belly. Indigo whacked Cloud with their tail and Cloud fell to the sidewalk, his head hitting against the concrete. Cloud whimpered, got up, and ran away. Indigo stared at Kyle. They growled and walked closer to Kyle. Kyle whimpered and began to back away.

"Don't bother me again." Indigo snarled. There was some of their blue blood dripping all over the sidewalk. But, the sidewalk was mainly covered in the white wolves' red blood.

(TRIGGER WARNING OVER. BUT THERE IS STILL BLOOD.)

Kyle sprinted away, leaving his scent of fear behind. Indigo then began to walk home. They were exhausted, and covered in blood.

When Indigo finally got home, they put their backpack and phone down on the floor of their room. They walked to the bathroom, and took a shower. Indigo watched the blood go down the drain. After they took a shower and dried off, Indigo got dressed in a comfy short sleeved shirt and short pants.

Indigo did their homework, and after that, they walked outside. Indigo decided to go swim in the canals. They jumped into the canal with a splash. Indigo swam for a while. They swam for three hours. After that, Indigo went inside the house, took another shower, and checked the time. It was already 6:30pm. Suddenly Indigo's phone beeped. They got a text message from their mother. The text said 'I'll be home at 8:00, Make yourself some food or something'. Indigo texted back 'Ok'. Indigo decided to go get some pizza.

Indigo grabbed $30 from their wallet, and decided to go to the nearest Tripoli's. They looked on google maps, and saw that the nearest Tripoli's was near the highschool. Indigo walked to the Tripoli's. They bought a pizza and a can of rootbeer, and then walked home when they got the pizza and rootbeer.

Indigo ate three slices of Tripoli's pizza and guzzled down the rootbeer. They left two extra slices of pizza for their mother. By then, it was already 7:00pm. Indigo decided to spend an hour playing minecraft. It was 8:07pm when their mother came home. Indigo heard the car pull up and the door open. Indigo walked out of their room and nodded a greeting to their mother.

"There's two slices of pizza left, if you want those." Indigo said.

"Thanks." Indigo's mother said.

Indigo walked back to their room. They played minecraft for another two hours. Then, when Indigo realized the time, they saved and quit, turned off their computer, and jumped onto their bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

(THIS CHAPTER TOOK SO LONG TO MAKE SMH ITS 2423 WORDS INCLUDING THIS AUTHORS NOTE!)

[merakiaes]

Clocks And Numbers - Tony Stark

Pairing: Tony Stark x reader

Requested: By @its-the-tear-in-my-heart

Warnings/notes: Everyone’s dyscalculia is different from the other’s, so I’m sorry if this wasn’t what you where looking for. I wrote this out of my own experiences and difficulties. I really hope you like it! 

Wordcount: 2716

Summary: You have dyscalculia, which is a kind of learning issue that makes it hard to understand concepts related to numbers. Tony, being the sweetheart he is, tries his best to support and encourage you!

You knew something was off when you first started school and started getting taught how to read the analog clock. While most of the kids your age had learnt it by heart two weeks into it, you were still stuck in a corner struggling to differ the number three from the number eight. So it was safe to say you could not even begin to understand a circle with twelve numbers and a countless of combinations.

Your parents and teachers just blamed it on math anxiety, they told you that only if you wanted to, you could do it. You just had to put your mind to it, right? Right.

It wasn’t until you got sent home with your first math homework that your parents understood that you needed extra help. This wasn’t just anxiety. They could see so clearly on your face that you, in fact, didn’t understand a fucking thing of the things written on the paper in front of you.

But it took more than a pair of insistent parents to convince the school of getting you extra help. So you struggled. For years, you struggled to get through the different grades. At one point, you just stopped going to math class, resulting in getting failed every year.

Not that it mattered if you went there, anyways. Every time you looked into your assigned math book, the numbers seemed to come alive, switching places and turning left and right and hanging upside down. It was impossible to read.

Now, in your other classes, like English, Biology and Theatre, you got praised constantly. Reading was one of your biggest passions. You had gone through school with straight A’s in English. But when reading a math problem, you couldn’t even read the letters. The number completely and utterly screwed them up.

You could count addition and subtraction without too much trouble seeing as you learned them with hands-on props and they were reinforced from toddlerhood throughout your entire childhood. It took a long time to learn, but you got a hand of it, eventually.

But multiplication, division and fractions were practically impossible. You didn’t understand quantities, you couldn’t sort fractions from smallest to biggest. You couldn’t estimate numbers, you couldn’t count backwards. Not remember basic facts, and it was practically impossible for you to learn and perform calculations.

You couldn’t count in your head, always relying on counting with your fingers, which of course, made it a nightmare for you when you got called up by a teacher to solve a problem on the board. Almost every time, it ended up with said teacher losing their patience and yelling out something in the likes of “Oh, for God’s sake. It’s not even that hard, everyone else can do it. You need to study harder!”

Study harder. You wished it was that easy.

Not until you were fourteen did the school finally realize that you needed extra help and resources to be able to graduate high school. However, to do that, you needed to re-take all of the previous math classes you had failed in, which in turn resulted in her having to read  more than double the amount of math than your peers during the rest of your time in high school.

It was hell, but you got through it, and graduated. But your problems with math didn’t end with school.

When you turned twenty, you had finally settled down enough for yourself to be able to get your own apartment and move out of your parents’ house. But even then, math haunted you; apparently, paying your own bills was an important thing to be able to do when living alone.

You got through two weeks until you had to call your parents for money after miscalculating the amount of money in your bank account and buying a non-refundable bag when mistakenly thinking you could afford it.

Spoiler alert, you had done the calculations all wrong and entirely overestimated the amount of money you would have left after paying your bills. So, long story short, your parents had to lend you money in order for you to be able to pay your electrical bill. And after that fiasco, and after paying them back, of course, your mother had taken over the billing.

Now you were twenty-five. Your mom no longer took care of your bills, but that was just because Tony took over for her when you moved into the Avengers Tower. You avoided math as much as you possibly could.

You never went to the store alone, not being able to keep track of bills and change and getting anxious to the point where you felt you were about to faint when having to hand the cashier the right amount of money.

You didn’t cook, as you always misread the numbers in the ingredient measurements. You couldn’t handle anything in the likes of budgets or finances. Still at this age, you didn’t have a single multiplication table memorized. You could never trust yourself enough to write out numbers by hand, chances being high that you would accidentally write a three instead of a four, or a one instead of a ten. You couldn’t even look at a Rubik’s cube, and time zones baffled you to no end.

And your hands, man, there were two of them. Left and right. Which was which, again? You still, to this day, hadn’t learnt your lefts and rights. If you wanted to give someone directions, you had to look down on your hands and think about which one was your dominant to be able to figure out if you wanted to tell the person left or right as a direction.

You couldn’t plan to save your life, which caused you to go about your days minute by minute, taking them as they came. But, realistically, as a known given, you did understand that, sometimes, making plans and being on time was crucial.

At times like these, you had your phone notify you several times. And every time, you had to check, double check, reassure yourself, and check again, to make sure you had the time correct.

Why? One might ask. Well, because you still hadn’t learnt to read a fucking clock. And this was the exact source of your frustration on this very Thursday morning.

Peter Parker had waltzed in in his pajamas a while ago, how long ago exactly you didn’t know. How could you? He asked you for the time seeing as you were face to face with the clock on the kitchen wall, the very wall he was behind.

He was new to the tower, so he couldn’t have known not to ask you for the time.

You had kindly explained the situation to him, and he had instantly started apologizing. After spending at least five minutes assuring him that it was fine, he had left for school, and you were left alone at last.

You had stared at the clock, annoyed beyond words as you picked on your scrambled eggs. The rest of the team members were either out on a mission, or still sleeping. Sighing, you had finally pushed your chair back and walked across the room, reaching up on your tippy toes to take the clock down from the wall.

Bringing it back with you to your seat, you had sat yourself down again, putting the clock in front of you on the surface and positioning your body so that you could see it better.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there, just staring at the clock and trying to piece together the clock pointers with the different numbers. You couldn’t even differ the minute pointer from the hour pointer.

But before you knew it, you were crying and flinging the poor, innocent clock across the room, the clear plastic at the front cracking and shattering onto the marble floors. You groaned in frustration, your hands coming to pull at your hair as you leant back into your chair.

“Good morning.” A voice suddenly came from somewhere else in the room, startling you. You turned your head to the hallway leading to all the bedrooms, watching as Tony casually strolled into the kitchen quarters, hand motioning to the broken watch on the floor. “What did that clock ever do to you?”

You didn’t answer, only grabbing your fork and moving it about in your, now cold, eggs. As Tony got closer, he noticed the wet streaks adorning your slightly puffy cheeks. Instantly realizing his mistake, Tony came up to your side.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have joked about it.” He apologized gently, carefully moving to touch her shoulder as an act of comfort.

You shook your head. “It’s fine, I’m just really tired.” You sighed, your hand coming to rest on top of his, squeezing his fingers with your own.

Tony knew more than well what a hard time you had when it came to numbers, and despite being his cocky, boastful, genius self, he never once judged you for it, always offering you the support and encouragement you needed to stop feeling sad.

You looked up to meet his eyes, gentle as ever as he stared down at you with an equally as gentle smile. His hand came up to touch your cheek gingerly. “You know it’s not because you’re dumb, right?” He mumbled, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

Your heart swelled at the absolutely sincere and deep gaze he was giving you, your entire body getting warm at the fact that he was able to read you like an open book, being able to tell exactly what you were thinking just with a glance at your face.

He knew your struggle with the numbers made you feel like an idiot many of the times; he probably knew you better than you did yourself. And he always knew how to make it better, just by looking at you.

“It feels like it. Which twenty-five year old doesn’t know how to read an analog clock?” You muttered, leaning into his chest as he moved closer behind you.

You could just picture him raising his eyebrows in thought at your words, his hand moving from your shoulder so that he could wrap his arms around you. “A lot of them. You’re not alone, (Y/N). You’re not stupid, or mentally challenged. You just need a little extra time to learn, alright?”

You didn’t answer, instead just taking in what he was saying. You knew he was right, but you still felt stupid. Noticing you weren’t going to answer, Tony left you at the kitchen island briefly to walk across the room towards the clock, picking up the broken piece of plastic and bringing it back over.

He put it on the surface in front of you, before leaving the room, coming back only seconds later with a roll of bright pink tape, a notepad, and a ballpoint pen in his hand.

“Here.” He took a seat next to you and pulled the clock closer to himself, breaking off the rest of the broken plastic on the front of it and grabbing the tape, pulling out a long stripe. He began wrapping it around one of the pointers, until it was fully covered, and then bent his head down to cut it off with his teeth.

You watched him while he did whatever it was that he was doing, and once he was done, he pushed the clock closer to the middle where you would both be able to see it clearly, before grabbing the small notepad and pen and putting them in front of you.

“The pink pointer is the minute pointer, and the black one is the hour pointer.” He explained as you carefully moved to grab the pen. “Now, you know in which order you write the hour and minute in digital clock, right?” He looked to you for confirmation.

You nodded. “The hour goes first, and the minutes go after.”

“Right.” He confirmed with a nod of his own. “Okay, so the black pointer shows what hour it is. And the pink one shows what minute it is. Now, if you were to write down the respective numbers, the hour first and minute second, what would you get?”

“Uh…” You thought to yourself, eyes moving over the clock in concentration. Frowning, you spoke. “The black one isn’t at any of the numbers.”

Tony only hummed. “If it’s not at any exact number, you pick the number the pointer went past last. So, if you look at the black pointer now, it’s between the nine and the ten. What number do you pick in this situation? What’s the hour?”

You let your eyes glance between the nine and the ten a few times, the frown on your face deepening, still not sure of how It worked. “Nine?”

“Yes!” He clapped his hands together before pointing at the pink pointer. “And what’s the minute?”

Shifting your gaze from the black pointer to the pink, the smile that had come to rest on your lips briefly at Tony’s praise, fell once again. “There’s only twelve numbers, and there’s sixty minutes in an hour.”

You slumped in your seat, and let your eyes fall shut as they were aching from the amount of time you had been staring at the damned clock. Noticing your exhaustion, Tony pushed the clock and notepad away, grabbing the pen out of your hand and wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pulling you up with him as he stood.

“Alright, that’s enough numbers for today.” He reassured you, starting to steer you out of the room, you following behind without asking any questions and just easing into his side. “How about we take a bath?”

You didn’t answer, tired and irritated. You just mumbled out an agreement and let him steer you out of the room and towards your shared bedroom.

The next day, you were up bright and early like the day before, catching the rest of the team all gathered in the kitchen, probably getting ready to go out on another mission. Something was different this morning, though.

Something you noticed, courtesy for your absolute hatred for analog clocks, was that you always picked up on their ticking sound. No matter how far away the clock in question was, or how much noise that surrounded you, you always heard it.

But not this morning. The only thing you could hear was the quiet chatter of your friends and colleges as you pattered into the kitchen area, along with the all too familiar sound of the brewing coffeepot.

And your suspicion of your greatest enemy having gone missing proved to be very true once you looked around the room and noticed that all three of the kitchen’s clocks, including the one you had broken the morning before, had been replaced with digital clocks.

You couldn’t contain the warm, fuzzy feeling bubbling up in the entirety of your body at the sight, and you wasted no time in walking over to Tony where he was sitting at the kitchen table with Steve and Rhodey at each side of him.

When he noticed you approaching, Tony instantly pushed his chair back just enough for you to slide into his lap. Taking him slightly by surprise, as you were usually not one for PDA, you took ahold of his face and pressed your lips to his in a long and hard kiss without speaking a single word, right in front of the other Avengers.

When you pulled away, you could see that he was confused, but visibly pleased, nonetheless. “What was that for?” He asked you quietly as he pulled you closer, a fond smile resting on his coffee-stained lips and crinkling at the corners of his still sleep ridden eyes.

You only smiled at him, keeping both of your hands on his cheeks and leaning your forehead against his. “Thank you.” Was all that you said, and all that was needed for him to understand.

His face lit up into an adorable smile, realization flashing through his eyes. “You’re welcome.” He nodded, and with that, he leant in to kiss you once more, not wanting to waste this grand opportunity of a breakfast make out.