#but she went to art school and i have not taken a proper art class since middle school soo

[sofitai28]

my face every time my professors keep assigning me shit

i am still kicking!! simply going back into my Greek myth phase (as if I ever left). ask me about greek myth please i have too many in my head

[stargazer-sims]

Victor - car accident

This one got a bit long @dandylion240. Obviously, I'm not very good at keeping this stuff to "drabble" size, but I hope you like it anyway. And you can probably see now, how this is going to be a jumping-off point for something even longer eventually.

__________

A car accident changed Victor Nelson's life. Twice.

The first time, he was six and a half years old. At ten o'clock in the morning on what had been an otherwise normal Wednesday, an impaired driver had struck and killed his father and sister while they were innocently crossing the street after leaving the doctor's office.

Victor was in school when he found out. He'd been sitting in class, thinking about lunch break and about how he was going to make the best birthday card ever for his mom during art time that afternoon.

At breakfast, Dad had said it was a special birthday for Mom because she was turning thirty-one, on the thirty-first of May. Victor was slightly disappointed that he'd already had that special kind of birthday and couldn't even remember it. His birthday is the second of December, and he'd turned two a really long time ago. But then he brightened again, remembering that his baby sister Caroline would be turning three that summer, on the third of July.

He was happily occupied inside his own head when the vice-principal appeared in the doorway of the classroom. She spoke quietly to Victor's teacher for a minute, and then his teacher turned back to face the class and said, "Victor, can you come up here, please?"

Behind him, his friends Jacob and Davian were giggling, and Jacob poked him in the back of his shoulder with something. Next to him, his cousin Leo whispered, "Ooh, Victor... you're in big trouble!"

He was in big trouble, but not the kind his friends imagined. It was the kind of trouble that was far too big for a six year old to handle, and it completely shattered his world.

It had taken years for him to come to terms with the deaths of his father and sister, with the crushing pain of loss, the fear of being abandoned, and the all-consuming grief. Finally, with the proper help, he was able to let go of everything but the best memories, and he could allow himself to move on.

Now, he's thirty-six years old, married, a former world-class athlete, and a qualified paediatric nurse. A grown up man, as his mom likes to say. But, if he's learned anything in his life, it's that being a grownup doesn't make anyone immune to feeling sad, angry or afraid.

Just over a month ago, he'd felt all of those things so suddenly and intensely that he'd had to excuse himself from his duties for several minutes and lock himself in a staff washroom where he could release everything in a hot flood of tears.

May twenty-third. That was the day of the second car accident that changed his life. He personally didn't find out about it until the following morning, but that didn't prevent the date of the event from being etched permanently on his mind.

The twenty-fourth of May started typically enough. He was on the early shift that week and began his work day at seven in the morning. The early shift is his favourite. It's the busiest, and there's never a shortage of things to be done.

Just like on any other morning, his first stop was the nurses' station, where he and his colleagues got a hand-off from the overnight nursing staff. He expected the usual rundown of information and updates on the patients assigned to him, but when the first words out of his overnight shift counterpart were, "Victor, Laila wants to see you as soon as possible," he knew his day was going to take a turn.

Laila Alhadi is the paediatric nursing supervisor and Victor's boss. The younger nurses call her their 'work mom' because she treats everyone like they're family. Victor adores her. As bosses go, he knows he couldn't have asked for a better one than Laila.

After hand-off, he went to look for Laila, to see what she wanted. He found her standing just outside the door of a patient's room, deep in conversation with Dr. Abbie Reid-Mayfield, one of the paediatricians. Dr. Reid-Mayfield looked worried, and that unsettled Victor a bit because she was usually calm and unflappable no matter what was going on. It was the other paediatrician, Dr. Park Seung-Ri, who wore his heart on his sleeve. If Dr. Park looked upset it probably wasn't much cause for alarm, but a concerned looking Dr. Reid-Mayfield was not a good sign.

"Oh, there you are, Victor. Good." Laila beckoned him over the instant she made eye contact with him. "Dr. Reid-Mayfield has a special assignment for you."

He frowned. "A special assignment?"

"The ER staff transferred a patient up here last night who doesn't seem to speak English or French," Dr. Reid-Mayfield said. "She can speak, but we don't know what language it is. Dr. Park thinks it's Japanese, but he says his Japanese is too limited to be certain, and he suggested you might be able to help."

"You speak Japanese at home, don't you?" Laila added.

"About half the time," he said. "It's my husband's first language, and I don't want to lose my skills."

The doctor nodded. "Good. Let me fill you in on what we know about the patient, and then you can meet her."

The patient, Dr. Reid-Mayfield told him, was between five and seven years old as far as they could tell, of East Asian origin, and had albinism; a condition that affected the pigment in her skin, eyes and hair, and caused her to be legally blind. The doctor said that according to the police, the child was a passenger in a car which had been struck by a truck that ran a red light. The truck had collided with the driver's side of the car. The driver was fatally injured and later died in the emergency room but the child, who'd been sitting in the back seat on the passenger's side, sustained only bruises and a broken arm.

"They think the driver of the truck was under the influence," Laila said.

Victor felt his stomach drop. He didn't quite know how to respond, and blurted out the first question that popped into his shocked brain. "What's her name?"

"We don't know," said Dr. Reid-Mayfield. "The driver's name was Nakamura something or other, according to his driver's license. The police think he was the child's father, so we're assuming that's her family name as well, but we're not sure. Dr. Brightman down in the ER was calling her Caroline, so that's what we're calling her too, for now."

Victor might've been able to hold it together, if it hadn't been for that particular detail. He excused himself with a vague, "I, uh... I need a minute."

A few minutes later, when Laila knocked on the door of the staff washroom and called out to check on him, he came out still wiping his eyes with a piece of paper towel. He apologized, and then in a jumble of words that he figured barely made sense, he told Laila about his sister. She listened to everything without interruption.

Regardless of whether it was proper workplace conduct or not, when he was done talking, Laila hugged him and reassured him that everything would be okay. He'd do fine with his new patient, and she'd be there to support him whenever he needed it.

Laila was right, he reflects now, as he stands beside Caroline's bed and studies her for a moment while she sleeps. Everything was fine, or as fine as anyone could reasonably expect, given the circumstances.

He learned that the little girl's first language is indeed Japanese, and that her name is Sayuri Nakamura, and she's six years old. He still calls her Caroline, though, because when he asked her if she preferred to be called Sayuri, she said no, "'Cause Sayuri saw bad stuff happen and she was too scared, but I think Caroline could be more brave."

Victor wonders if he would've opted to be called by a different name after his father died, if he'd been given the chance. Little Victor had experienced bad stuff too, and he'd been scared. Maybe an alter ego would've helped him feel more brave.

He admires Caroline's courage, her intelligence and resourcefulness. She's just a little kid, and she's lost even more than he did at her age, and she's definitely facing bigger challenges than he had to. Despite that, however, she gives every impression of being a survivor, a small warrior in a battle she may not even realize is too large for her to fight alone.

But, she's not alone, he reminds himself. She's got me.

He's not consciously aware of when he came to that realization, but he knows it to be unequivocally true.

He and Caroline have bonded over the course of the past month, in a way that utterly flies in the face of the concept of professional detachment his instructors in nursing school were so fond of reinforcing. But no one seems to fault him for it, not even Dr. Reid-Mayfield, from whom he'd expected the most opposition. In fact, everyone seems to be encouraging him, praising him, and complimenting him on his own selflessness and courage.

As he lingers there, he doesn't so much hear another person enter the room as he feels the presence of them. He knows it's Laila even before he turns to see her. The warm scent of spices seems to follow her everywhere. It's foreign and yet familiar, and he finds it oddly comforting.

"Aren't you supposed to be off shift, Victor?" Laila says.

He glances at his watch, and then up at his supervisor. She looks tired, and her hijab is slightly askew, but she's smiling. He smiles in return. "Yeah. Ten minutes ago, officially. Aren't you supposed to be off shift too?"

"Ten minutes ago, but I had to answer a couple of emails."

"Oh?" he says. She wouldn't be mentioning that if it wasn't important.

"Child welfare social worker," says Laila. "Some guy named Fox Abbottsford. Dr. Reid-Mayfield copied me on her correspondence with him."

Victor laughs. "I don't think I've ever heard Fox referred to as 'some guy' before. What's up with him?"

"He says you know each other, and he told Dr. Reid-Mayfield that he'll have to transfer Caroline's case to another worker if you're serious about going ahead with the home study. Conflict of interest, you know."

"I know," Victor says. "Fox and I have known each other for a long time. Yuri and Fox's husband Takahiro grew up together."

"I see," Laila nods. "Anyway, I guess Community Services has a proposed date to do your home study, if you still want to go ahead with it, and now it's like everybody needs to know whether or not you've made a decision and they need to know it yesterday."

Victor is quiet for several seconds before he finally answers, "I'm going ahead with it. Yuri and I discussed it, and he agreed that we can do it." He pauses again, and then adds softly, "But... I guess you know I already made up my mind long before now."

Laila rests her hand on his arm. "Perhaps even before you did. I think I knew when I found you crying in the bathroom."

"Love at first sight isn't really a thing, right?"

"Maybe for parents it is."

Parents. The word hits him hard. It's the first time anyone has used it in a direct reference to him. He and Yuri will only be foster parents, but still... The enormity of it has just barely begun to sink in, and he's already feeling overwhelmed.

"She deserves to be safe and to have a chance to be happy," he says. "I might not have much to offer, but I know I can offer her that."

"Don't sell yourself short," Laila admonishes him gently. "You have everything to offer. This child needs someone who can understand and help her. She needs someone to love her, and I know you can do that."

He fights the tears that threaten to imminently spill over. "I do love her. I don't know how or why, but... I do. Thinking about the responsibility is terrifying, but like.. I can't not do it. Does that even make sense?"

"It does." Laila gives his forearm a light, assuring squeeze. "It sounds exactly like what every other new parent feels."

"What if I'm not good at it, Laila? Parenting, I mean. What if I mess up?"

"Nobody's perfect at it," Laila says. "But, don't worry. You're going to have plenty of help, and you've got great caretaking instincts in any case. If you really want to know my opinion, I think you're going to be a wonderful father."

[inkabelledesigns]

📚 for Auran, Loraine, Manny and any other character of your choosing from your nutcracker stuff, go ham my guy

📚 BOOKS — what level of education has your oc most recently completed/is currently in (GED, undergraduate, grad school, phd, etc)?

Okay, so this is a tough one. All three of these characters are dolls and wouldn't have had access to a formal general education like you and I do. Or at least, I haven't developed what that looks like in this world. Like, obviously all of them would need to learn math, they use math every day for stuff like sewing, counting beats, battle strategy, measuring out magic dust for combinations, calculating travel distances, etc. But where did they learn it? As young dolls, did they have school, were they required to go through some basic training to be well rounded? Or is that just magicked into them from the start? Can you even do that?

I think Captain Dieter would be really impatient with the guard and have them go through maybe an intense month of schooling that covers most things (probably skimps on anything regarding literary analysis, can't have too many thinkers to challenge him, which feels horrible when I say that out loud). The royal guard likely has up to a basic high school level education, but it's a touch incomplete. This is what Auran would start out with before transferring to the ballet.

Odette and Siegfried by contrast would be very thoughtful about schooling their dancers, there's probably a great deal of lessons in typical subjects besides what they need to learn for ballet. I can imagine there's an emphasis on history given that's really important to them, but there's also a lot on language arts. If any of the dolls of my world could speak a different language or have a vast understanding of English, it would be the ones at the ballet, given music has a myriad of terms that derive from French and Italian. I think they'd also encourage exploration into other subjects. Loraine takes an interest in studying magic and science, and it's ultimately what lands her in her position of studying magic dust to understand its intricate properties. Auran by contrast has more of a focus on ballet and music, but as a side hobby, he enjoys books on gardening and learns a lot from those for his small vegetable garden.

Manny....Manny is probably the one who got the shortest end of the stick, but he's probably more educated than both Auran and Loraine, who mind you, are fairly smart. Manny had no education beyond math and textiles, his employer simply didn't value it. So he went to great lengths to homeschool not only himself, but his fellow employees, using tools from Equinox 's rich library system. While his employer was almost quick to forbid it, Manny is incredibly smart and managed to convince them that this was really in their best interest so that their business would be run more competently, and it worked out. Manny manages to get himself through a high school level of education, but he's also got what's effectively a college level education of business, as he was secretly studying to get out of his bad situation. Though one may argue that he also has a strength in street smarts, he knows how to play the game of life. I can imagine he's also taken at least one acting class in his life.

That was a lot for all three and their respective peers. XD I suppose after Captain Dieter is no longer running the guard, there is probably an emphasis on better education and easing the guard into things ala Queen Clara. She would want her soldiers to have those tools after learning Dieter was being deliberately foolish. Especially in making sure they knew their history and had some extracurriculars outside of preparing for battle. This is probably how Minstrel achieves his dream of having a proper band for the guard rather than just playing a war drum.

[anmarifromearth]

Chapter 5: Zach's Phone

Note: You can read the finished version on Quotev, but for Tumblr, I'd like to upload the chapters one by one.

WC: 5.2 K -- Masterlist -- featuring art by @amalthiaph

She leaned in closer, a mischievous gleam in her eyes, "since this house was built long ago, did you know that there were passages in between the walls?"

Zach and I exit History Class together, walking side by side to Miss Johnson’s office, or as I’d like to call it, our deathbeds. Much more Zach’s deathbed than mine. I had this feeling that we dug ourselves a grave a lot deeper than intended. I look up at Zach with pitiful eyes. I know for a fact that he’s a lot scared than I am; he’s probably filled with fear of getting expelled and disappointing his father.

I open my mouth to say something, reassure him like he does to me. But I am at a loss for words.

“Iris,” he began as he looked down at me, “What if you get expelled, where would you go?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered, “probably to some local college in our hometown.’

“For me?” he said, “I have no idea.”

“I sure do hope you’ll never have to find out,” I mutter, placing a hand on his arm. I was hoping to place them on his shoulder, but I am too short to reach it. To my surprise, Zach reached for my hand, and placed his hand on top of it, a silent agreement. I smiled.

My smiled then dissolved as the doors to Miss Johnson’s office came into view.

 Zach pulled the door open and held it for me. I entered first and he followed. We saw Charles was already sitting in one of the three chairs prepared in front of Miss Johnson's desk. She wasn't there but I could hear the clicking of a teaspoon on a cup meaning she was just at her mini kitchen on the right of the office. Zach pulled the chair in the middle for me to sit on.

After we are all seated, Miss Johnson arrived with a tray and four mugs in it. Just as expected, Zach immediately got up and stole the tray from her to carry to the desk. "Thank you, dear," she muttered as Zach did so. "Alright," she began, clapping her hands together and settling down on her chair, "Good morning, I am Miss Skylar Johnson; Wessman School’s disciplinarian."

We all nodded in acknowledgement.

"I believe you already know why you are here?" she asked beaming. We sat there in silence. I don't even know whether that question demands an answer or it's just rhetorical. Whichever the case is, none of us wants to say anything anyway. After a moment of silence with only the sound of our breathing, she clapped her hands again, "You are here because you stole one of the keys last night, and used it to enter the White Room and those small doors wherein you went on a rampage."

I slightly got up from my seat, taken aback with what she said. I opened my mouth to protest but Zach was ahead of me, "We didn't steal any key," he said, all prim and properness leaving him. "In fact, we were surprised to see the doors unlocked considering the time," he paused, "And we thought maybe they forgot to lock it, and so we took advantage of that opportunity. We didn't steal the keys!"

I looked from him to Miss Johnson. Her eyes were full of disbelief. I cannot blame her. We cannot just say that it is all a coincidence that a random student had stolen the keys on the same night three other students snuck in a room that was supposed to be locked by those very keys. She smiled, not a pleasant one, I might add, and began to speak, "I almost believed your non-stammering excuse, Mr. Stratmann; it looks like you rehearsed it the entire night." It's news to me that she knows sarcasm.

After minutes of silence, Charles finally spoke up, "It isn't us, Ma'am."

"Then, who?" Miss Johnson asked, looking him straight in the eyes; her blue ones unwavering, "You three snuck in a room that was already locked ten minutes before dinner. A few minutes later, I was told that the keys are missing. Then, coincidentally, you three were found to have gone a passage by entering through that very room. Now, you are telling me it wasn’t any of you. So, is there any other student I should call the attention of?"

We looked at each other, thinking the same thing. The only logical explanation of that is someone stole it for us and opened those doors. But no one else knows anything about this, except Charlotte. She was there when we discovered that there are passages in between the walls and she even shushed us when we were making too much noise when trying to search for them.

However, I thought twice before opening my mouth. I cannot drag Charlotte into this, she is only my roommate. On the other hand, there is still that slight chance it might be here, and I'm willing to take it. "There might be someone," I said, almost a whisper. All their eyes went to mine, they are either scared or suspicious, "I repeat, might, alright? I think it might be Charlotte Meyer, my roommate." 

The brown haired girl arrived at the office a few minutes after she was summoned. Her clueless green eyes are asking us for an explanation. Zach offered her his seat and she gladly accepts it but not before whispering, "What is this all about?" to Zach who didn't bother to answer.

Miss Johnson cleared her throat, and Charlotte turned to face her, opening her mouth to ask the same question, "Miss Johnson, what is goi-"

"I'll go straight to the point, alright, Miss Meyer?" she cut her off, "Did you steal the school keys and opened the White Room for these three to sneak in last night?"

Charlotte was puzzled. "Come again," was all that she managed to blurt out.

Miss Johnson sighed, "Last night, the head of the maintenance reported the school keys missing, stating that it was just on its usual place in his office but were suddenly gone. A few minutes later, three students," she eyed us one by one, "were caught after sneaking in the-supposed-to-be-locked White Room and ending up on the dining hall, through somewhat 'hidden passages in between the walls.'"

Charlotte nodded, analyzing the situation. She took a deep breath before answering, "I do remember them talking about these so-called passages," she began, "but I never really knew they found one." She looked up at Zach then me. "Also, I didn't really had dinner here as I was out, meeting my parents. Iris did text me that dinner is almost ready," she eyed me as she said that sentence, "but I am already having dinner with my parents then. So," she said in a sing song voice, looking back at Miss Johnson, "I wasn't here last night. Well, not until curfew."

Yes, I do remember not seeing her at dinner after I texted her. Also, she wasn't really with us at the library when we found that one picture that led us to the discovery of one of the passages. Gladly, I saw Miss Johnson nodding and seeming to have believed her story as it does sound truthful. "Hmmm," she said as she nods, her hands under her chin, "Alright, then, Miss Meyer, you may go," she told her smiling.

Charlotte excused herself and mouthed me a "Good luck" before disappearing behind the oak door and into the sea of students. Miss Johnson cleared her throat once more, calling for our attention. Once we are all looking at her, she began to speak, "So if it isn't Miss Meyer, then who else?"

Charles shook his head. "No, we don't know anyone else," he answered truthfully.

"I think," Zach's voice broke the silence, "I think it might be Christina."

"Unfortunately, sneaking in isn't really the issue here nor the theft of the keys," boomed Mr. Phillips' voice. He closed the door behind him, his eyes glued on the dark-haired boy that sits on the chair. "You are meddling with things you shouldn't be meddling with. Don't you think that time is better spent on other things?" 

"We just wanted to create an article about Christina," Charles lied. 

"To apply for the school paper?" Mr. Philipps asked, smiling.

"Yes," Charles pronounced each letter slowly, surprised that his made-up story actually checked out. 

Mr. Philipps' lips turned into a straight line, "Impossible. That requirement for application to the school paper had been removed fifteen years ago." He walked slowly into Zach's direction, levelling his face to his. He placed both his hands on each armrest. "Yes, Mr. Stratmann, the passages do exist. And yes, I know where each of them lead to. I could easily track where you are in the school." 

Mr. Philipps' words played over and over in my head. 'I know where they lead to', he said. The passages. I am unsure if it's just me but if he meant to say that he knows every way out, he could've just said so. But instead, he said 'where they lead to', meaning, the passages lead somewhere. It is not there for people to use as shortcuts, or for those two people to play a trick on the maid and start a 300-year ghost theory. 

"Can I be the first one to say we're done for," Charles said looking at his feet as we all sat at the front steps of the school during our vacant hour. It was not very sunny and not very gloomy either. It's just about the right amount of clouds to cover the sky. 

Just like us, a lot of students are hanging out at the steps too with their books or phones. Zach sat in front of me and Charles. He was tapping on his canister. "We need to retrieve my phone," he looked up at us. "The evidence is there. It was Christina and not us. That would save us from the disciplinarian and clear us of theft accusations. Also, that's the only evidence we have against Mr. Phillips and the crimes his family must have committed. We need to retrieve it before he does, disposes of it, and keep things—their crimes, unknown to everyone."

"I don't really think we can do that," I replied with a sad tone. "He's guarding it by now."

"Yeah," Charles added, "And we can't try any other way to get in other than the dining hall and the White Room because he did mention he had the other floor plans. And unlike us, he probably already knows the entrances and has kept them locked already."

I exhaled, "We should really be lucky he let us slip just like that."

"We still need to retrieve it anyway," he said looking up at me, "because it's my phone. I need it."

I looked around the hall, my eyes travelling through large wood pillars carved in the looks of a rope and walls finished with polished oak wood. I took note in my head that in between these walls, there are passages that lead somewhere or to something. Where do they lead to?

We arrived at the mess hall, welcomed by the smell of food which is very nice. It's a good thing it wasn't that crowded yet and it wasn't long until Charles had found us a seat, one which was near the huge windows. It is nice, very well-lit and you feel connected with nature so we decided to accept it. Outside the windows was an opening--a field, large enough to fit in a football field and a track, some bleachers, and beyond that was another forest. However, this one doesn't look as deadly as the one in the entrance but for some reasons, this was the one that's prohibited. 

Placing our things down on the table, I noticed that Zach hasn't come back to his usual self; he was still silent, his lips still pursed and his face is still blank. I placed a hand on his back, catching his attention. He turned to me, face still blank, which disappoints me very much. "Let's get food," I told him, smiling, trying to do the same to him. Unfortunately, I failed; he just nodded and followed me to the buffet. Unlike last night, there weren't any small talks or anything that relates to the passages; it was just dead silent. Today's menu was Poached Mackerel, Bruschetta and Salsa which I think is really nice. The way back to our table is very much the same; it was still silent.

"So, what do we do now?" I decided to finally break the deafening silence. I looked at Zach who was just piercing his mackerel with his fork and doesn't really look like eating. "Zach!" I said, a bit louder than my usual tone.

This time, he turned his head to me, an eyebrow raised. "Why are you asking me?" he said, tone dead compared to normal.

"Because," I started, swallowing a bit of my meal, "you are the leader of this team."

"Am I?" he asked, turning back to his food, "I thought it was Charles. He's the one who started the group chat."

"Yes," I replied. Charles, however, was just eating it all away and was just listening to us talk. "But when we came into this whole 'Christina and her family' thing, that was all you. You're the one who introduced us to the mystery we are now trying to uncover."

Zach nodded, and finally decided to take a bite of his mackerel. "Alright," he started, "Then it's me."

Charles gulped in water and repeated his question from earlier, "What is our next step?"

The teen took time to think, tapping his right hands on the table as he thought, "We really need to get my phone. For evidence and well, because it's my phone."

Charles and I nodded.

"However," he started. I tensed, quite surprised that our plan isn't sit and wait as I thought it would be. "We need to move fast," he continued, "Mr. Phillips knows that we know what he knows, and I'm pretty sure he's now asking someone to guard the door on the White Room; if not, then he's doing it himself." He pushed his tray of food aside and reached for his backpack. "We just need to find another entrance—one where he least expects us to use, that could lead us to where I dropped the phone because that is where we last saw Christina. And from there, we'll make our next move," he started to search for the canister inside his bag. "Maybe, there is another door on the path we saw the skeleton, just right where Christina stands when we saw he-," his eyes were filled with so much horror.

I moved on my seat, extending my neck to see what he found. Zach's hand was still inside his bag, shaking. Slowly, he pulled it out and on his hand is HIS PHONE.

[hops-hunny]

Girls Like Her

Pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Black!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.7k

Request: N/A

Summary: In which Kyoya is smitten and not afraid to show it.

Warnings: None! Fluff.

A/N: this is so self indulgent and I don't even care I NEEDED some Kyoya with a black girl bc where's all the color in the ouran community??

Kyoya had a fine eye for spectacular things. Running the host club with Tamaki required it. He was always looking for something of interest that he knew the guest would like and that would bring in a nice bit of money as well. That's why he was mesmerized when he saw (Y/n). Sure, Kyoya had seen girls that were deemed "beautiful" by whatever measure of beauty the rest of his high class socialite peers thought. However, he had never put much thought into what he personally found beautiful but now thanks to her, he didn't need to.

Sure he had seen women with nice skin. It wasn't very uncommon. Going to school with girls whose parents made most people's yearly salary in a day meant they were well cared for. They took care of their skin with the finest of products, as did he. However her skin was unmatched. Nice hues of brown which glowed beautifully in the soft daylight of music room 3. Not a blemish or wrinkle in sight. Smooth and brown all over like a bewitching goddess. And sure other girls had hair. It was all a blur to him however, nothing he could point out or was anything but ordinary. All of it was the same straight hair in the same bland style. But hers however?

She wore some of the most elaborate styles he had ever seen. He didn't know the proper names for them at first but the more she visited the host club, the more he'd overhear her speak about them to the other guest. Box braids, goddess twist, faux locs. Each style suited and complimented her well. Anytime she'd change it up he'd observe it carefully, viewing every bump and turn on the art that was her hair. His favorite though was when she'd wear it naturally.

 God was it a sight. A large, picked to perfection afro atop her head like the crown a princess, no, a queen of her caliber should have. It reminded him of the clouds in the sky he'd see on a nice summer afternoon except far more eye catching and far more mesmerizing.

"Tamaki?" Kyoya questioned, looking up at his blonde friend. The last few of the guest had trickled out by now.

"Yes mommy dear?" He quipped, walking over to his raven haired friend.

"Is there a reason we don't see Lady (L/n) any time other than the host club? How come I've never seen her in any of our classes?" He asked, trying to ignore the stupid look Tamaki had on his face.

"Kyoya, are you in love?! Oh how amazing! I always knew this wo-"

"Forget it, this is a waste of time." He began to head to the door but stopped as Tamaki stopped his path.

"Wait! (L/N) as in (Y/n) (L/n) right? She's a year below us, that's why you probably never see her outside of class. We don't have any classes with her except lunch if you count that." Kyoya hummed at the man's words before walking to the door, opening it. 

"Thank you." He said, giving him a nod of acknowledgement.

"No problem, dear friend."

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

Kyoya stood behind his podium, greeting guests as they came through. He offered each of them the same fake smile he'd give, confirming their host choice for the day. He never cared too much to remember faces, just the different things they'd enjoy and how he could make profit off of them. Well everyone except-

"Kyooo! What's up? How ya doin today?" She chirped, leaning close to him as she offered him a bright smile from behind her supple plump lips. He smiled down at her, a genuine one (not that he'd ever let anyone know that).

"Ah, lady (L/n). A pleasure to see you as always. Your usual I presume?" He said, searching for the twins' names as he went to check the mark.

"Actually I thought I'd switch things up today!"

"Really? Who will it be then?" Whoever it was would be so lucky to be graced with the girl's presence. Her smile grew wider at his question as she leaned even closer.

"You! You do host right? I haven't seen anyone come to you for some time." She mused, resting a brown hand on his arm. Normally he'd remove himself from anyone's touch but for her he didn't mind so much. He'd even go as far as to say he enjoyed it. "Any excuse to stare at that nice face of yours longer."

'The same could be said even more so about you, darling.' Is what he wanted to say but consumed by his own nerves he let them get the best of him. "Usually I find myself too busy to," he started, noticing her face drop, "However I can always make exceptions for ladies of such high beauty as yourself, princess." She smiled, heading over to the empty table that Kyoya rarely hosts at. She sat on the couch across from him, fiddling and moving around as usual. (Y/n) was an unusual energetic girl who found that she couldn't sit still for more than a few seconds, which was a trait that usually drove him up the wall but when it came to her he found it to be quite cute.

“You’re not going to eat or drink anything?” (Y/n) asked, shoving her mouth with the tiny tea cakes that sat on the silver cake stand. Kyoya let a soft smile take his face as he watched her. He always kept them hidden in the back because he knew they were her favorite and they were far more expensive than anything else they served. The cakes themselves were imported from France daily which was obviously a pretty penny but, he didn’t mind. The smile on her face made it worth the extra bit of cash.

“I’m not much of a fan of sugar, it’s bad for your skin.” he stated, looking down at the little black book in his hands. She hummed processing his words before wiping her mouth off with a napkin.

“Well what do you usually drink? I wanna have the same thing as you!”

“I’m a fan of earl grey served black. No sugar, no cream.” he said. She eyed him carefully before giggling. She leaned in close, looking into his dark eyes as he stared back.

“Yeah you seem to be quite the fan of,” she cleared her throat to hide a giggle. “Black things.” Kyoya set his cup down, choking on the liquid. (Y/n) sat back in her seat satisfied, laughing loudly as she threw her head back. A few of the guests stared at her with angry eyes, upset by her mild disturbance. But, she didn’t care. She never did. Once his choking died down, she sent him a wink. “I’m only messing with you, Kyo-chan! Lightin up will yeah? Anyways I’d like to have a cup of what you're drinking. It couldn’t be too bad, right?”

Wrong, she had been deeply wrong. Kyoya smiled in amusement as she sputtered out the tea, coughing dramatically. “Is it not to your liking, dear?” he asked in a sarcastically cheerful tone.

“Like hell it is! This shit is gross.” she began to pout, pushing the cup away from her. “I’d like my usual back please.” she said, looking up at him. He felt his face heat up slightly as he nodded his head, grabbing her cup before heading off with it. He searched the shelves carefully before finding her usual and preparing the way he knew she liked it. Too much sugar and too much cream. He chuckled at the thought, 'it suits her.'

(Y/n) smiled as he returned with her cup taking a sip as she let out a sigh of content. "As much as I'm enjoying my time with you today, my lady, I'm curious about your sudden shift. You always without a doubt choose the twins." He questioned, watching as she delicately set her cup down on the wooden table. He admired her presence. She was graceful but in a way he had never seen before, unique just like everything else about her.

"Do you want the real answer or the fake answer?" She questioned, biting the inside of her cheek nervously. Kyoya had a split second of a confused look before offering her another smile.

"Honestly is the best policy, my dear."

"Well- you see- ugh!" She huffed, slouching back in her seat. He couldn't help but find it adorable how the big ugly yellow dress swallowed her whole during that action. "I always wanna request for you Kyo-chan but you always seem so busy, so distant. I figured I'd let you have your own peace." She leaned forward on her hand as she rested her elbow on the table. "And besides, I've seen you reject to host much prettier girls so why would you host me?"

Kyoya's eyes widened at the (h/c) haired girls announcement. Prettier girls, than her? Too busy, for her? He chuckled some catching the girl's attention. Before she could ask him what was up he began to speak. "I don't mean to laugh in your face princess but I think you've got it twisted." He stood up, pulling the girl close to his chest. The other host watched with wide eyes and their mouths open at Kyoya's uncharacteristic behavior. "There are no prettier girls nor is there anyone I'd rather spend my time with," he tilted her head up bringing his face closer to hers, "Than you." (Y/n) stood there breathless at his words. Her eyes gleamed brightly at his confession.

"Are you busy this weekend?" She asked him faintly.

"Well, I'd have t-"

"Well now you're not. Take me on a date." His eyes widened at her forwardness before laughing softly. She did have a way of doing that, leading the way in any conversation no matter what the topic.

"Are you asking me or telling me?" He teased, pulling back from his hold to push his glasses up his nose. "Either way, alright dear. How could I say no to you?"

Tamaki watched from a far with a hand over his heart, genuine tears falling out of his eyes. In all his time he had known Kyoya, he had never seen him passionate about much of anything. To see his friend so sure of himself, so content in his emotions moved him. Thank god for the sun that had taken away Kyoya from his rainy days.

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Their Girl

Loosely based off of several cases that have, unfortunately, taken place in schools.

Mabel defends herself when a boy touches her, only to be the one to get in trouble. Not on her grunkles watch.

~~~~~~~~~~

“In 1930, the Republican-controlled House of Representatives, in an effort to alleviate the effects of the - Anyone? Anyone? - the Great Depression, passed a - Anyone? Anyone? - a tariff bill. The Hawley-Smoot Tariff Act, which - Anyone? Raised or lowered? - raised tariffs, in an effort to collect more revenue for the Federal Government.”

Mabel leaned back in her desk chair to stretch. It was cold in the high school, but luckily her seat was right in the sunshine, warming her up like a lizard on a rock. Her baggy yellow sweater fell off her left shoulder and she let it without giving it much of a second thought, then watched some birds on a tree as the Economics teacher droned on.

“Did it work? Anyone? Anyone know the effects? It did not work, and the United States fell deeper into the Great Depression.”

Tenth grade was too young to learn about something so boring. This was for suckers who paid money for it, like college students. Mabel held her breath to keep herself from snorting over her own inner thoughts. Grunkle Stan would be proud of her, she thought, and her thoughts wandered to him and Grunkle Ford, until she was snapped back into reality. Literally.

“Today, we have a similar debate over this, anyone know what this is? Class? Anyone? Anyone? Anyone seen this before? The Laffer Curve.”

A boy behind her (his name slipped her mind at the proper moment) was playing with her exposed bra strap. It felt like he had grabbed it, barely pulled it back, and let go. At first, she thought maybe it was an accident. Unlike, but possible. But then it happened again, this time the boy pulled the bra strap far enough that when he let go it slapped against her skin a little. It didn’t hurt, and the teacher’s boring voice drowned out the noise, but still.

“Anyone know what this says? It says that at this point on the revenue curve you will get exactly the same amount of revenue as at this point.”

Mabel turned around sharply at once and gave him a deadly glare. “Stop it.” She whispered firmly.

The boy grinned menacingly, and sneered just as quietly, “Make me.”

Mabel whipped her head back, making sure her long ponytail hit him in the face, but though her actions stopped him for a moment, soon he was back to pulling on her bra strap, each time pulling back farther and farther.

“This is very controversial. Anyone know what President George H. W. Bush called this in 1980? Anyone? Something-D-O-O Economics. Voodoo Economics.”

A loud snap sound echoed, a yell of pain and aggravation, and then Mabel Pines stood so sharply her chair fell backwards, turned around, and punched the jerk in the face, left-hook boxing style.

“Ms. Pines!” The teacher scolded loudly.

The whole class was on the edge of their seats. All the kids had seen what happened; the ones sitting closest to the pair had been well aware of what was going on since the beginning. While they were hopeful the jerk would get what’s coming to him, they all knew that wasn’t likely. Not under the most sexist teacher’s nose.

“To Mr. William’s office. Now.” He growled.

“But he was touching my bra!” Mabel defended. “He was invading my personal bubble even though I told him to back off!”

“It’s a very small classroom, Ms. Pines. And maybe he wouldn’t have touched it if you didn’t have it out for the whole world to see.” The man said coldly and pointed to the door. “Now please leave my classroom.”

Mabel knew there was no point in defending herself. She did a quick glance around the room to see if anyone would defend her, but no one looked ready to jump into the line of fire. She understood why. This guy had a bad reputation. Mabel loudly stuffed her notebook filled with doodles into her backpack, took it and her small purse, and stomped out of the classroom.

She did manage to catch the blood coming out of the boy’s nose and grinned.

At Mr. William’s office, the sweet secretary with old-lady glasses offered her a mint and was very nice to her. But soon Mr. William entered the room and had Mabel enter his office. Apparently the teacher had called ahead so Mabel didn’t have to tell the principal what happened, leaving the girl to feel like she was walking into the Lion’s Den.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dipper left his Robotics class to meet up with Mabel, who normally would be leaving Economics, so they could walk to their last class, Language Arts 10, together. Economics emptied pretty quickly thanks to the boredom, so Dipper was a bit confused when he didn’t see his twin sister out in the hall, and wondered if she was in the bathroom.

He saw a fellow student who shared Mabel’s Economics class, Rose, leave the ladies’ room, and so he asked, “Hey Rose, is Mabel in there?”

She shook her head. “Nah, didn’t you hear? She got sent to the office for punching Jeremy.”

Dipper grinned with pride, but it quickly went away; Mabel would only do that if Jeremy was doing something. “What’d he do?”

“Smacked her with her own bra strap.” Rose pulled down the neck of her t-shirt and demonstrated, “Like this.” And she pulled her bra strap and let go, making it snap.

“Are you kidding me?!” Dipper yelled and his eyes landed on the teacher to his right, standing with his arms crossed and looking out for rule-breakers.

The young man growled in his throat like an angry dog, ready to tell the jerk off, but he felt a buzz in his pocket and pulled out his phone while Rose walked away. Dipper calmed down a little, sighed, and walked to the lockers to lean against them as he responded to his newest text. He had no intention of going to Language Arts. He’d be on his way to the office soon enough in case his sister needed him.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford re-read the maps and plans for Spring Break with an exciting grin all over his face. Soon the kids would be out of school and take a bus to the pier where he and Stan had docked the Stan O’ War II, then they would sail alongside the California shore, fishing, sailing, and occasionally swimming, for a whole week. They had been planning this since the holidays, when they had all facetimed for five hours while the old sailors were on the shores of the Netherlands. The kids had practically begged to go on the boat with them, and so they agreed to sail alongside Russia and visit California, planning to then re-visit Alaska quickly before sailing down to Oregon for the summer.

Stan climbed up from the cabin below as he pulled on his white t-shirt. “How much longer until the kids are free from prison?”

Ford rolled his eyes and checked his watch. “Ninety minutes. And it’s a twenty minute drive, so it’ll be about another two hours, Stanley.”

The youngest of the pair by fifteen minutes groaned and collapsed on the couch. “I could always hotwire a car and we could see them now. We can pretend one of us died and so we need the kids now.”

“Stanley, no.”

“Stanley YES!”

Ford chuckled and rolled up the map. “Text them if you miss them so much.”

“Maybe I will.” Stan snorted and pulled out his phone to text in the group chat. “Surviving okay, kids?” Just a casual greeting, and he and Ford were pleasantly surprised to get a little buzz back not a minute longer.

“Not really.”

Stan raised an eyebrow while Ford had his back to him and was organizing his papers. “Why? What’s wrong?”

Little dots appeared and reappeared. Stan knew what that meant. Dipper was being careful how he answered. Stan decided to check, and sure enough Mabel hadn’t even seen the texts yet. When he got a small paragraph back, Stan nearly crushed his phone in his fist. “WHAAAAAT?!”

Ford jumped a foot in the air and held his chest. “Christ, Stan, what…”

“Check your phone, Genius! We’re going to Piedmont. NOW!” And Stan slapped on his beanie and stormed out of the cabin of the ship with a slam of the door.

Ford picked up his phone, which had been lying face-down on the table, and once he was caught up on messages, he matched his twin’s anger and made sure his ray gun was in his blue hoodie as he left.

~~~~~~~~~~

Mabel sat in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest, letting Mr. Williams go on his tangent. According to the school nurse, she had broken Jeremy’s nose. Good. That’s what he gets for touching her. But apparently Mr. Williams disagreed, saying things like how her actions were unlawful and that she had no right to punch another student.

“Under no circumstances should you ever punch a fellow student, Ms. Mabel.” Mr. Williams said firmly.

“But he was touching me!” Mabel quickly injected, in some effort to defend herself. “He was pulling on my bra strap and smacking me with it! And I told him to stop, but he wouldn’t leave me alone.”

Mr. Williams snorted as he reached into his desk. “Well maybe next time you won’t wear such revealing clothes? How else are people supposed to pay attention to the lesson?”

Mabel felt her heart drop. She looked back down at her sweater, her purposely baggy yellow sweater that she had knitted herself a few months ago. This sweater - in fact, none of her sweaters - had ever been a problem before. Mabel plucked at her top and said in a quiet, timid voice, “But I made this.”

Mr. Williams glanced up from what he was writing for a second, before mumbling bitterly with his cold eyes on his paper, “Let the professionals make your clothes, okay? If you don’t want to find yourself in trouble then try wearing suitable clothing.”

Mabel felt her entire face turn red. She was so angry and so hurt and she saw no possible way out of this, so she decided to bite her lip and hide the lower-half of her face in her sweater, shrinking in her seat and lifting her yellow sweater up a bit.

“Now, I am giving you three weeks of detention.” Mr. Williams said. “Two for violence and invading a student’s personal bubble, and one for breaking dress…”

The door opened sharply. Mabel turned and her jaw was wide open to find her great-uncles at the foot of the office. At first she was jubilant to see them again, but then terrified to see them so angry. She had never seen them so mad. She knew they could be scary when they wanted to, but they had always seemed like soft old teddy bears to Mabel, what with their fluffy gray hair and warm hugs and squishy tummy-tums to snuggle against. Mabel was a little unhinged to find their faces darkened with anger. She could see a vein popping out of Stan’s forehead. Ford appeared to try to be collected, but his aura was as black as an imploding star, matching his brother’s quite well.

Mabel stood on shaking knees. Her uncles softened, ignoring the cold look Mr. Williams was giving them, and Stan was at her in an instant, with Ford right behind him, rubbing her shoulders and looking over her. “Mabel, sweetie, are you okay? Did he hurt you? I swear to Moses if that…”

“I’m okay, Grunkle Stan, I promise.” Mabel soothed, trying to smile, but she was still really nervous. “I… Wow, it’s great to see you guys, I missed you, but why are you here?”

“Dipper contacted us.” Ford said softly. “Said you were in trouble. What exactly happened?”

“She pu-...”

“I didn’t ask you.” Ford growled at Mr. Williams. Mabel actually shivered. She was so used to hearing a smooth, warm, comforting voice come from him, that hearing it growl like an animal like that startled her. “I am talking to my niece.” His eyes moved back on Mabel and he was instantly much warmer and not as scary. “What happened, pumpkin?”

“I was in Economics when this boy, Jeremy, was plucking at my bra strap.”

“Please show us exactly what he did.”

“Does it matter?!” Stan snapped. “He touched her!”

“Stanley, please,” Ford gave him a firm look, then returned his attention back to their girl. “Humor me.”

Mabel nodded in agreement. She had pulled her sweater down so it had covered both shoulders and sagged a bit on her chest. Now she moved it so her left shoulder was completely exposed, and she pinched at her strap. “It started like this,” She barely lifted it up, having little effect or sound. “But then after I told him to stop, he did this.” And Mabel pulled back far enough that when she let go it made a harsh slapping sound against her skin.

“Wait a minute,” Stan had caught a glimpse of it the moment she lowered her sweater. He gently turned her to look at the back of her shoulder, and he saw red. Literally. Her skin was reddening from the aggression. Not enough to swell or require ice, but enough to indicate just how invading and violent the action had been.

Stan was growling in his throat. He squeezed Mabel’s forearms reassuringly and said, “We’ll handle this, pumpkin.”

“Gentlemen,” Mr. Williams said firmly, still acting professional and snobbish. “Your niece here has violated several school rules and even went as far as to break a student’s nose.”

“You did?” Stan asked and patted her back. “That’s my girl!”

Mr. William’s nostrils flared. “Gentlemen, that is not what we should be teaching young…”

“While breaking cartilage is unfortunate, sir,” Ford said coldly, stepping forward, “It’s abundantly clear that she was only defending herself. Not only did the boy have no right to touch her, in any sense, in any manner, she was even gracious enough to give a verbal warning before she acted as she had to to get the boy to stop.”

Mr. Williams crossed his arms over his chest and snarled, “Well maybe if she hadn’t dressed in such a distracting way Mr…”

“Oh HELL NO!” Stan marched forward and slammed his fists down on the desk so hard he actually left cracks in the wood from the impact. “YOU’RE NOT PLAYING THAT GAME, ASSHOLE! NOT ON MY FUCKING WATCH!”

Ford made no attempt to silence his twin. In fact, he was smiling cunningly, like a policeman letting his dog go after the target. He gently walked Mabel to the door and ushered her outside. “Why don’t you wait outside, my dear? Dipper is waiting for you with a snack and some water to calm your nerves, you look a little shaken.” He said quietly.

Mabel dipped her head and smiled, unable to find the words, but Ford understood and closed the door after her.

Dipper was, in fact, there with a package of peanuts and bottled water in his hands for her. They sat in the cool office, listening to the conversation. While exact words were muffled by the walls and door, it sounded like Stan and Ford both were yelling and cursing at the principal. While Dipper and Mabel probably should have been more nervous, they weren’t; they were calm and they both knew that everything would be okay.

About half an hour later, just when the old men’s throats were getting a little sore, they left, leaving Mr. Williams to try to kill a small fire on his desk. Stan swiftly pocketed his lighter and smiled warmly at his kids. “Let’s ditch this hellhole.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Mabel was sipping some hot chocolate with extra marshmallows while Dipper was in the shower and her uncles elsewhere on the boat. She rubbed her shoulder with her free hand, elbows on the table, as she thought about the day. While she was grateful to not be in trouble and that the whole situation was over, it didn’t feel over. At least, the feelings it gave her hadn’t gone away.

The door opened and she smiled to see her favorite uncles coming inside. “Hey there, pumpkin.” Stan greeted warmly, but grew a little concerned. “You okay?”

Mabel blinked and tried to make a more convincing smile. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“That principal rattled you pretty good.” Stan pulled out a chair and sat next to her, rubbing her back. “C’mon, what’s on your mind?”

Mabel looked down at her hot drink, sighed, unsure of how to properly express her emotions, but managed to settle with, “It wasn’t fair.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Ford said firmly and stood on her other side. She looked up at him and the old scientist said, “What happened to you was completely unfair and should never be tolerated.”

Mabel nodded in agreement. “It’s just that… not only should Jeremy not have touched me, but you’d think people would have my back for defending myself, but… they made it seem like it was my fault…”

“Mabel Pines,” Stan moved his hand to her shoulder and squeezed gently. “That was not your fault. You did nothing wrong. You dress how you want and punch any guy that touches you if you don’t wanna be touched, and don’t let anyone tell you you should act differently.”

Mabel smiled weakly and nodded. “Okay.”

Stan chuckled and ruffled her hair. “That’s my girl.”

“Now hold one minute, Stanley.” Ford teased and wrapped Mabel up in a one-armed hug, making her giggle and hug him around his waist. “You were always terrible at sharing. She’s my girl, too.”

Stan smeared playfully and tickled Mabel’s ribs to loosen her grasp on Ford, pulling her into a big bear hug as she laughed. “Nu, uh. My girl.”

Mabel rolled her eyes as the twins only kept up the charade for another minute, filled to the brim with appreciation and power.

[merakiclosed]

Taehyung - Bunny love

》Pairing: Hybrid!Reader x Single Parent!Taehyung

》Summary: Moving around and trying to find your home that your animal side craved for, you find your love of teaching kids art. Being a rare, albino bunny hybrid, you have to hid your appearance with baggy clothes and hats. What happens when a certain little girl takes a liking to you and what happens when that little girls very single, very hot dad also takes a liking to you?

》Genre: Fluff, a little bit of angst (tiny)

》Word count: 5k

》Notes/Warnings: Fem reader, choking (not sexual), slight harassment for a very short period.

Ah this took me a long time, I couldn't think of a proper ending but I quite like the ending and how it ties it together. Enjoy ! <3

Masterlist | All messages and requests are open <3

All rights reserved © Merakiiverse. Do not repost, translate or claim as your own

Moving around to new cities wasn’t new to you but moving to an entirely different country is. You never felt like you was home, even when you was living with your parents, it never felt right. It never felt like you belonged in your little town, you never felt that warmth of finally finding comfort. Your parents said that it was because of your genetics, that when you find that warmth feeling, don’t let go because that will be your home. It will be the place where you belong.

You are now living in Seoul and you were slowly but surely getting more comfortable. The language wasn’t hard to learn, you are a fast learner after all. You found the perfect job as an art teacher for a primary school and found that your classroom was where your heart and soul was. The walls were covered in splatters of paint, the children’s artwork splayed across the three walls that didn’t occupy the interactive whiteboard. Cut outs and spiral hung across the ceiling like Christmas decorations. Luckily for you, you were only small, so you didn’t get tangled with the hanging artwork. However, trying to get them on the ceiling was hard as you were scared of heights and being at the very top of a ladder was scary.

Being an art teacher meant that you could be quite laid back as you didn’t have to worry about students not understanding nor worry about teaching them about certain words. It also didn’t require the kids to fully think as you often promoted that they should create whatever their hearts desire. Because of this, you found that the kids were a lot more happier and open to you than the other teachers causing you to get side eyed sometimes by other teachers. You just shrugged at them, kids didn’t like to learn and listen all the time, they wanted to be free for a while. You were also good with smelling emotions that the kids felt, causing you to be good with kids in general. If they were sad? Juice box and fruit. If they were angry? Give them some paint and a blank canvas, let them express what they are feeling.

The headmaster liked your teaching style and the way that you were ‘talented with children’ - their words not yours. You also really liked the headmaster for allowing you to wear whatever clothes you wanted, which was good because of your situation. The situation was the big, white, fluffy flops on top of your head and the white fuzzball that was at your lower back.

Yes, you were an albino rabbit hybrid.

Hybrids are extremely rare. Hybrids came about when some crazy scientists thought that they could create a superior race where they were stronger and smarter than humans but were more obedient. The government and animal control was involved with taking it down and not much was said on the news about the whole situation. The government made up an organisation called The Hybrid Move. They basically take care of anything to do with hybrids and make sure to keep track of them so that none of them get taken and get experimented on by other crazy scientists. They were a lovely bunch of people; you knew quite a lot of the employees as you have to keep in contact with them.

Your parents were a part of the experiment, they never talked about it much and you can’t imagine how awful the conditions were. Once they were free, they ended up having you and moved to a small town, outside of the city. Seeing as they were both hybrids, it was inevitable that you were too.

From a young age, they told you that you always had to hide your tail and ears so that nothing bad happens to you. This meant that you had to wear baggy clothes and hats in every public setting and because of this, you had very little friends as they didn’t understand why you wore hats in summer, or why you couldn’t go swimming or go to sleepovers. Many people talked about you behind your back, name-calling was common. It seemed that even if you did hide your animal features, you were still a freak. A group of boys once took it so far, that they cornered you and tried to take your hat off. This then resulted in parents coming in and you being supervised by at least one teacher at every single hour of the day.

At first, you was confused at why there wasn’t anyone else that had ears or tails. You were also confused because, “Why do I have to hide something that I can’t help, it’s my nature?”

This, in turn, led to a conversation about the hybrid experiments that your parents went through and how they are in contact with The Hybrid Move organisation.

It hurt to bend your ears into a beanie at first, but after a while you got used to it, but now, from the years of fitting your ears into your beanie, they both bent outwards permanently at the top. Your tail hurt when you snatched it on somethings, and it killed when it snagged on your clothes. You always wear flowy, long skirts and baggy pants, making sure to cut a hole in your pants and that your top was always long enough to hide the cut. You have a very, artsy aesthetic, neutral and earth colours are your thing.

You live in a little bungalow, the large backyard was filled with flowers, plants, and vegetables. At the very back of your garden, you had a small selection of overgrown trees so that if you do shift, you have your own little hideout where you can properly connect with nature without being chased by a predator. You have a little cut in the middle of your right ear because of a fox. You had to shift at least once every month, otherwise, you get extremely uncomfortable and can cause you to shift in places where you really shouldn’t.

The only downside to your job, other than the snarky teachers was that you couldn’t go to any events that they held. You couldn’t exactly go to a posh event because you would end up wearing a beanie, very classy. And, you couldn’t wear fitted clothing.

You did have two teacher friends, first being Namjoon. He teaches English and has an incredibly beautiful husband, Jin who teaches history. How lovely the both of them are, they are so in love. Jin is so nice, he likes to look after both you and Joon. He often brings in food, of course they were vegan friendly for you. As much as you love Namjoon, he is clumsy and because of this clumsiness, they found out about you being a hybrid shifter.

What happened was, after school one day, you were on the ladders, hanging up some artwork when a loud crash came behind you as Namjoon dropped his mug of coffee. You are scared of loud noises because of your sensitive ears and the mug dropping caused you to shift. They had no words when one minute you were climbing the ladder and the next there’s a white bunny on the floor. Jin went to scream but Namjoon shoved his hand over his lovers’ mouth, causing the scream to be muffled. Joon is as clumsy as he is smart, so he connected the dots fairly fast and quickly went to shut the classroom door and pick the shaking bunny up in his arms. It only took 5 minutes of Joon and Jin stroking and whispering sweet words for you to shift back- Luckily with clothes. After that fiasco and explaining everything, they were very understanding and you three became very close friends, with you often feeling like you were third wheeling.

It was coming up to the end of summer, which meant that you could no longer just sit in the sunny spots of your living room and stay up to watch the sunset. You were excited nonetheless as you got to meet a new set of students that were coming up to their last years of primary. The whole process went smoothly and after a few months, they were well on their way with their current projects.

A little girl named Sujin became particularly close to you, sometimes choosing to stay in your classroom for lunch if she noticed that you wasn’t busy. Sujin had chubby cheeks and short, black hair with a wide, boxy smile. She was incredibly talented and was always excited about coming to art class, always skipping, singing, and dancing. Sujin was also a very curious child, always asking questions. You don’t mind answering them and you don’t even mind answering the ones about your personal life because, who on earth is she going to tell that your favourite snack is strawberries? One day after school she even asked if you had found your ‘prince or princess’. It took you a while to register what she was talking about, but you answered with a big, fat nope, ‘I haven’t found my prince’. After you answered, she just ran off and giggled, a cheeky smile painting her face. You shrugged, not minding her curiosity.

December comes and it’s time for parents evening. You have talked to multiple parents, a few have you scowling as they say how you ‘don’t dress like a teacher’ or that you ‘look too unprofessional’. Whilst you’re waiting for your last appointment with Sujin, you go around the classroom and pick up the swirl cut-outs that parents hadn’t notice where hanging from ceiling, causing them to waft their arms around and destroy some of them.

You stand in the frame of the door once you are done when you hear a very distinct laugh. Sujin comes bounding in, dragging a very, very tall and very, very handsome man down the hall. You can tell straight away that this is her father, his boxy smile unmistakably the same as Sujin’s.

Your mind buffers looking at him and your animal inside goes feral, ‘He could easily protect you; he looks strong and he’s so tall, he could defend you without much energy’. You blink rapidly, trying to stop yourself from jumping on top of him asking him to be your buck. Stupid animal instincts.

You look down when you notice that the man has stopped smiling and is now starring at your feet, to find that your right foot is slightly thumbing the ground. You try to stop yourself but you’re leg ends up twitching and shaking. Ignoring it the best you can, you smile awkwardly but in Taehyungs mind, you look annoyed; you’re leg stomping with a very forced smile. He looks sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck with the hand that isn’t holding Sujin’s

“I’m sorry I’m late, the traffic was worse than I thought”

Once again, your mind malfunctions at the deepness of his voice, ‘please, earth swallow me now’ you thought. You shake your head and mumble to him that it’s fine and you wasn’t waiting that long.

You lead them into the classroom and turn around when you hear Sujin giggle as the man almost runs straight into one of the swirls from the ceiling. You really should have asked Joon if he could have taken them down beforehand. You cover your mouth when you chuckle, his sharp, dark eyes finding yours when he hears you and coughs, his cheeks blushing slightly. You stop laughing and sit down at your desk, gesturing them to do the same.

Throughout the meeting, you say various praises for Sujin as she is a literal angel and is extremely talented. You question the man, that you now know as Taehyung, if there has been artistic people in the family.

“Um, no not really, I mean, I do. I only do art as a hobby though. One day she came home and asked if she could get some art supplies because she really enjoyed your lessons and loved how she could express herself” Your heart hammers in your chest at the thought of inspiring someone, even if it is a child, it’s a massive compliment for a teacher.

The meeting doesn’t last long but you do notice that the entire time, you had a very warm feeling in your heart. You felt comfort. You ignored your thoughts, deeming it to be from the warm classroom.

Just as you’re about to turn back into your classroom, his voice echoes in the, now empty, hallway, “Are you going to Parent-child Christmas dance?”

You pause in your tracks and stare wide-eyed at hm, “Uh-I-Uh”

‘Omg WORDS Y/N’ you thought

Quickly gathering your thoughts, you reply “I don’t usually go”

You see his shoulders sag as his smile falters and quickly add “I might go this time though”

You inwardly freak at your words, what were you thinking??

His boxy smile once again makes an appearance “I’ll see you there than, Ms L/N” His voice showing his excitement

Without a second thought you run to Joon’s room to get help. Oh gosh, what have you gotten yourself into?

On the night of the dance, you’re wearing an A-line dress so that it doesn’t catch your tail and your ears are free as you stand next to Namjoon and Jin who have fake bunny ear headbands on their heads. When you freaked out about going to the dance wearing a hat, they proposed that you just went without a hat. Immediately, you shot the idea down, but they suggested that if you went without a hat, they went with a headband so that you wasn’t alone.

You’re a bunch of nerves as you’re dart across the many parents and children that fill the decorated gym hall. You have to restrain your ears from moving towards every sound that they hear, not used to being uncovered. Lucky for you, many teachers were dressed up in a Christmas themes as you see many antler headbands and Santa costumes.

“Hey, you good?” Namjoon’s voice breaks you out of your trance as you look up at him with your wide eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Totally fine” You nod your head so many times, Jin thinks that your head might pop off.

“Your ears are twitching, darling” Jin says, going to rub your ears to soothe them, your body visibly relaxing at the administration.

Your eyes briefly flutter at the calming motion but soon shoot open when you hear the gym door opening. He walks in, once again, being tugged by Sujin who ditches him as soon as she sees her friends on the dance floor.

He makes eye contact with you and you can feel your face heat up. You see him take big steps towards you, not seeming to notice Jin or Namjoon who look at the both of you curiously. They step away when Taehyung gets close enough, wanting to watch the interaction from the side-lines.

You both stand side by side in silence until it’s broken by Taehyung, “I’m going to get a drink, do you want anything?”

You shake your head, too nervous to speak, your ears almost twitching.

He walks off as you stare at his broad back. He looked amazing tonight as he wore a flowery coat with a black tuxedo underneath it, his hair fluffy and curly, you want to run your hands through it. His jawline is sharp, and his eyes are a deep shade of brown, you could get lost in them.

Your lost in your head by the time he comes back to you, jumping when he appears in front of you, bending his back to look into your eyes because of the height difference. Even in heels, you only just reach his shoulders.

“I bought you some strawberries, Sujin says that they are your favourite”

Your big eyes stare into his, he remembered? You told Sujin that like 2 months ago. You don’t dwell on it too long as you look at the plastic plate in his hand that is full of strawberries and snatch one so quick that Taehyung didn’t think he’s seen anyone move so fast.

His chuckle causes you to strain your head upwards to look at him with your cheeks full of strawberries. With your cheeks still full you smile shyly, some strawberry juice escaping but Taehyung just grabs a napkin and softly grabs your chin with his other hand and gently wipes it away. All you can do is look at his face, noticing that he has one monolid and one double lid, as well as having a little mole on the tip of his nose.

He doesn’t move when he is finished and just looks you in the eye, his eyes filled with curiosity of wanting to know you more and adoration because he thinks, that he might have just fallen, even if you don’t know each other fully.

Throughout the rest of the night, it’s filled with random questions and you learn a lot about this man. When your both looking at the kids dancing, you see him look at the kids with adoration and care, a smile always present on his face, you wonder why he isn’t a teacher.

However, when you think that everything is going well, it goes downhill, fast.

The music seems to be getting louder and your ears twitch slightly, you feel a whimper wanting to leave your throat at the discomfort. You turn to face Taehyung when you find that he is already looking at you, specifically, your ears.

“I’m going to get some space” you whisper to him, your voice small. You see Taehyung nod at you, still fascinated by your ears.

You walk into the hallway outside of the gym and lean against the wall, breathing heavily. You closed your eyes to try and focus on relaxing your ears from all of the sounds that surrounded you, the music booming, the sound of the AC, footsteps. Footsteps.

You looked up frantically, looking at the man that was staring at you intently, the disgusting smell he gave off showed his intentions. Frozen in place, he came up to you and slammed his hands next to your head. His lips contorted into a smirk as he dragged his hands down to your face and stroked your cheek, “I’ve been looking for you, I knew I would find you eventually”

Your throat hurt felt tight as you gulped. His hand that wasn’t on your cheek slowly caressed your figure, going down to your waist, his grip tight. You let out a whimper when he pulled your right bunny ear, your eyes filling with tears. Your animal instincts of submitting made you shake, both of your ears dropping to the back of your head.

“Aren’t you a sight, little bunny” he stated, his breath smelled like smoke, making you want to gag. Your breathing became heavier as he started to pull you closer to his taller and more muscular frame.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing” a voice growled, surrounding the empty hallway.

The man that held you turned you around to face Taehyung, one of his arms going towards your neck and the other wrapping around your waist. Your arms go up to his arm around your neck as your nails dig into his skin.

“Aw, the boyfriend has come to rescue the doe” the man snarled at Taehyung, anger radiating off him.

Taehyung’s eyes are sharp, his jaw clenched as he looked at the arms around your neck and waist but softening as he saw the tears running down your face. Taehyung saw red when the man tightens his grip on your throat, he lunges towards the both of you when the man holding you speaks.

“Did you know these pretty things are real?”

Taehyung stops, his face void of showing emotion. The man that held you pulled your ear once again as you whimpered in pain, tears finally making their way down your face. You start to cough when the lack of oxygen gets too much.

The noises and the stress of situation was getting too much for you and it was like Taehyung knew as he made eye contact with you as your ears started to twitch on their own, your tail feeling fuzzy.

The arms around you slip as you shift into your bunny form, the man stumbling slightly which gives Taehyung the perfect advantage as he runs to the man, punching him square in the face. The man hits the floor with all of his weight, his eyes shutting. You don’t have much time to think about how strong Taehyung must be to knock him out with one punch as you sprint down the hall, your small legs jumping as fast as they can to find somewhere to hide.

“Y/N wait” You hear Taehyung cry out as he runs after you.

You’re fast, but Taehyung is faster with his longer legs as he scoops you up in his arms. You kick him with your back feet, trying to get out of his grip but not with all of your force so that you don’t injure him.

“Shh, shh, it’s fine, it’s just me. You’re fine” He shushes and coes at you, calming you down, one of his hands rubs against your fur.

Taehyung slowly slumps down against the wall of the hallway, not too far away from the gym but not close enough that someone will walk down. He is still holding you as you calm down, whispering soothing words into your ears and rubbing your back. You look up at him and all you see is love in his eyes. You sit up a bit more on your back feet, your front paws going onto his chest for stability as you nudge his nose with yours. His laugh rings out down the hallway as you start to lick his cheek.

Taehyung feels a significantly heavier weight on his lap as you shift back into your human form, your legs over his sideways, your right side leaning into his chest and your hands resting near his collarbone. There are still tear tracks on your face as you look up to him with your big eyes.

“I knew these bunny ears looked scarily realistic” he chuckles, no disgust in his voice.

 You stay seated in Tae’s lap when you call the hybrid organisation, as he occasionally kisses you head when you choke on your words, encouraging and supporting you. You both sat there for a while afterwards, with his left hand wrapped around your waist and his right brushing your bunny ears. Your teeth clicking together in contentment as no words where said, none were needed.

Taehyung is nearly tackled to the floor when you both walk into the gym hall as Sujin jumps on him and wraps her arms around his neck. She babbles at how she had such a good time dancing and that one of the other girls, Yuna, showed her some dance moves. You and Taehyung laugh as she talk animatedly about it. You move your hands to brush your hands through her hair, gathering it all so that you can redo her ponytail, whilst Taehyung looks at both of you with fond eyes.

“you know, there’s a job opening for another art teacher, the other one left” your voice was soft as you glanced at Tae. His eyes looking straight at you, excitement evident. Sujin joins in, encouraging her dad to start working here. You knew that he would love the job, he is great with kids, and for your own selfish reasons, you really want him to teach by your side. When Taehyung says that he will apply, you feel warmth start to spread in your chest, a wide smile making its way onto your face.

“Daddy, look it’s a slow song, go dance with Ms. L/N” Sujin whispers into Taehyungs ear. She noticed that her daddy was looking at you when you was talking to Namjoon and Jin about something across the hall. Your ears pick up the words she spoke as you weren't fully paying attention to what Joon or Jin was talking about. You didn’t mean to, but with Tae stood there, you couldn’t help but savour every moment that you were near each other.

Taehyung puts Sujin down and walks over to you in wide strides, confidence oozing out of him. A sly smirk makes its way onto your face when you make eye contact with each other, making Tae falter in his steps.

“May I have this dance?” His voice cuts through the convocation Jin and Joon was having, both of them looking at Tae with their mouths open.

“You may” You say shyly, taking his hand.

The both of you make it to the dance floor as other parents fill up the space. You put your arms around his shoulders as he puts his on your waist, the warmth once again coming back and filling up your chest.

“I’m sorry about what happened earlier” you said in a low voice, not making eye contact with him.

Taehyungs heart cracks a little at how small you sounded, “It’s completely fine, I should have gone out with you” his voice equally as low.

You look up at him and your heart beats a little bit faster. You shake your head side to side to disagree with him, neither of you could have predicted what happened.

“Ever since I met you at parents evening, I thought about you ever day. Every time I see you my heart beats erratically and there’s a warmth in my chest that I can’t explain” Tae mumbled, only for you to hear.

You place your head on his chest as you both sway to the music and whisper “I’m the same. But I have, um, something to tell you”

“My parents said that whenever I find warmth, this warmth, it’s where my home will be” you pause, “Tae, I think you’re my home”

Taehyung stops dancing, causing you both to be stood in the middle of the gym, the parents around you still swaying past both of you. You don’t separate from him nor look at him, scared of what he may say. The palpitations in your heart, the closeness and the heat in your chest have your feelings soaring, so much so, that a tear escapes your eye at the thought of him being disgusted by the words you spoke.

He raises his hand to life your chin up to meet his eyes, he briefly looks down at your lips, then back to your eyes, looking for permission. You nod slowly, standing on your tip toes as he leans down, his hand now cupping your cheek. The dim lights casted shadows onto his face, though you could see him perfectly. You can feel the hand that lays on your cheek softly, contrasting with the strong grip around your waist. Leaning closer, your lips met in a sweet kiss, all of your emotions coming to the surface. You clutches his shirt into your hands, tears now fully coating your cheeks. He pulled away slightly, his breath danced across my lips as he whispered, “I don’t think you’re my home, I know you are my home”.

You smile to brightly that it hurts your cheeks, he brings a hand up to wipe away your tears. Even with mascara smudging at the bottom of your eyes, tear stains on your cheeks and bloodshot eyes, Taehyung hasn’t something more beautiful.

3 years later

Explaining what you were to Taehyung was easy, but explaining it to a young girl, was interesting to say the least. It sent her imagination wild when she asked you to shift, she loved to give you kisses and hug you close to her.

You now lived in Taehyung’s house with Sujin, who has recently started to call you mummy. She first said it when you tucked her in bed when one day, your ears stood up to attention, eyes stinging to avoid from crying with happiness. As soon as you got to your shared bedroom with Tae, you flopped onto your side in front of him, instantly shifting to your bunny form. Tae laughed at you as he rubbed your fur and asked, once you shifted back, what caused that reaction. When you told him, he seemed to be as happy as you were.

Both of you are art teachers at the primary school. When you first properly introduced him to Namjoon and Jin, they interrogated him for a least an hour. But nonetheless, the four of you created an amazing friendship group, you could finally be yourself, your tail and all.

You smile at the thought of the four of you having a sleepover this Saturday as you pack your Taehyungs bag. You’re so happy that you get up and run to Taehyung, only to run away from him, giggling like a mad woman, “be careful love” he calls. You turn around and come back towards him at full speed and once you’re a few centimetres away from him, you start to circle his standing figure, your socks slipping on the hardwood floor. His laugh is deep as he catches you around the waist and flops you both backwards on to the sofa, cradling you in his lap. His eyes soften as you start to rub your chin on his shoulder. You relax against his body as you now start to nibble his shoulder. After being together for 3 years, Taehyung is used to this display of affection as he knows what it means – you’re happy and in love.

Taehyung kisses the top of your head once you’ve finished scenting him and pulls you closer together when Sujin bounces on top of the sofa next to you, joining in on the hug.

Your little family was perfect, and you loved it.

[silverwhiteraven]

Wings of Broken White - Ch. 10

Tag List: @marichatmay

[ Posted on Ao3 ] [ Chapter 1 ] [ Chapter 9 ] [ Chapter 11 ]

[ Summary: End of School picnic preparations! ]

To celebrate the class’s successful final project, they were putting together plans for a large picnic in the park at the end of the last day of school. The last day wasn’t mandatory for students to attend unless they had work to catch up on or tests to make up. So Marinette was spending that time at home, busying herself in the upstairs kitchen, preparing food and treats.

A faint knocking sound distracted her a couple hours in, and after making sure she could walk away without anything burning, listened for the source. She gasped and smiled when she realized it was coming from above her, from her own room. The balcony! Chat must be here!

She ran up to her room and up to the lost, and sure enough, she could see Chat Blanc, seated on the balcony floor next to the trapdoor. She pushed it open quickly, and he perked up, his tail flicking and wings spreading out behind him excitedly.

“Princess! You came!” He smiled wide.

Marinette giggled and pulled herself up to sit next on the edge of the hatch. “But of course, I can’t just leave my Knight outside like a stray now can I?” He laughed at that and she hid her smile behind her hand. “So what are you doing here, gryphlet?”

“Well you see,” he flourished a hand dramatically as he spoke, “I heard that today of all days was your last day of collège, and I wanted to congratulate you. So here I am.”

She laughed and shook her head. “You sure it’s not because I'm cooking? If you heard about it being our last day, then there's no way you didn't hear that we’re planning a picnic later, too.”

He gasped dramatically, setting a clawed hand to his chest like he had been hurt. It did nothing to erase the cute smile on his face, though. “You doubt my intentions, Princess? Well, you are right to do so,” he sighed dramatically. “Indeed, I am not just here to congratulate and shower you in praise, but to rob you of your goodies. Forgive this dashing rogue of his glutinous ways?”

He fluttered his eyes at her, and she couldn't help but laugh. “You are forgiven, on one condition,” she raised her hand, index finger raised to indicate her one condition.

“Name it,” he leaned in, looking ready to do anything.

“Help me with the baking and cooking for later,” she stated simply with a coy smile. “You can eat a portion of anything you make yourself. That’s the means for you to get fed. Deal?”

“Deal!” He hopped to his feet with a big grin and she gently laughed, happy to see his energy. She led him back down into her room and then into the kitchen.

She quickly checked on everything, making sure nothing had burned while she was gone. Satisfied, she waved Chat Blanc to join her at the counter. His previously excited mood was replaced by slight nervousness. He looked unfamiliar with the layout, though his eyes sparked with curiosity. Marinette tried not to stare as she cleared her throat and started introducing him to the ingredients and tools. “Now, don’t touch anything just yet,” she added when she finished showing him around. “Cooking has ground rules you should always follow.”

“Like a chemistry lab?” His ears flicked and wings shuffled, and she giggled, nodding.

“Yep, just like a chemistry lab. First, let's get you an apron.” She grabbed one of the hooks by the stairs, and as she went to toss the neck strap over his head, she noticed the decal on the front. Kiss the Cook. She blushed and turned it backwards, swiftly putting it on Chat before he could see. Now the decal was hidden from view and she wouldn't have to think about it. She then went behind him to tie the waist strap, but paused as she looked at his wings in the way.

“Something wrong?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“Your wings...These aprons are usually for my parents. I only use them when my wings are bound,” she said quietly, a bit awkward and unsure.

“Oh,” he replied softly. Her breath caught and she stepped back as his wings moved. They dropped slightly, only to completely fold up, pull against his back. He smiled at her gently over his shoulder. “Better? As long as you don’t tie it too tightly, I’ll be purrfectly comfortable like this.

Dropping her head to hide another blush, she nodded, coming closer and tying the apron. “So, uhm, next thing. Always keep your hands- uh, talons, washed.” He chuckled at her fumbled pun but nodded and went to the sink. She mentally facepalmed, knowing it would be awkward to wash gloves.

She carried on instructing him, meanwhile trying to keep to the edge of his vision until her flustering calmed down. She made sure he knew never to cross contaminate foods, to always clean the work area as they went, and continue to wash hands frequently. She scolded him when the oven timer went off and he almost reached in without proper hand protection. He was sheepish about it, but to her satisfaction, he didn’t make the mistake again.

At some point, she hadn't noticed the amount of flour dusting him because of how well it blended in. She only realized it when he had patted her head in reassurance that he could do a task without help now. The pat left a white handprint in her midnight hair, and she guffawed indignantly when she noticed it in her reflection on a mixing bowl. She didn’t bother trying to get it off, though, knowing it was pointless.

Finally, with quiche, pasta salad, croissants, and macaroons all done after a few more hours of working together, they were now sitting on the floor, waiting for the bread rolls to finish. The dishes and counters were already clean, the aprons were back where they belonged, and Marinette had even let out her wings to stretch them out alongside Chat Blanc’s. She tried not to think about their feathers brushing as they sat shoulder to shoulder, watching the oven like a pair of tired but happy hawks.

Chat started humming as they sat in comfortable silence, and she listened to the gentle sound. It was enhanced by a subtle purr, and she had to hold her breath to keep from giggling at the cuteness of the moment.

When he stopped, she asked in a whisper, “What song was that?”

“Hm? Oh,” he smiled softly and rubbed his neck. “A lullaby my mother used to sing. ‘Robin and his Maiden’. I made my own little parody of it not long after I got my Miraculous. Well, I only managed to do the first line, really, I'm stuck on the rest.”

Marinette sat up, attention caught. “Tell it to me, I want to hear.”

He hesitated, a blush under his mask indicating it was from shyness and not from doubt. “The original first line went like this: Little Robin on a roof, without his Maiden. The story is about Robin Hood and Maid Marian. Now I say it like this: Little Kitty on a roof, without his Lady.” Marinette giggled, realizing the comparison to her alter ego. “I’m stuck on the rest, because the story doesn't seem to quite fit with the changed names, you know?”

With a nod of understanding, she nudged his shoulder with her own. “Art is hard, I know. It’s okay to be stuck. You should try playing with the names a bit, maybe the rest will come to you along with fresh inspiration.”

He nodded and looked away, back to the oven as he began to hum again. Soon, the hums turned to words. “Little Gryphon on a roof, all alone without his Princess,” he gave a cheshire grin as she burst out in laughter and a fresh fluster. She pushed him over and he laughed as he flopped on the floor. She stood up and huffed, hiding her smile as she checked on the bread. The timer went off just in time, and, feeling satisfied with their golden brownness, she took them out and set them to cool on the counter.

She glanced at the clock and sighed. “Everything is done in time, that’s good. The picnic is in an hour.” She turned to Chat with a soft smile. “Without fail, I always end up late to meet-ups because I put way too much on my plate right before hand. Looks like I’ll be on time this year. I couldn't have done this without you, Blanc.”

He smiled back at her from his place on the floor, looking perfectly content to be there as he practically basked in her thanks. She laughed, feeling light and newly carefree. When they lulled back into comfortable silence, he sat up and looked at the clock himself. A sad smile replaced his normal one.

“Looks like I need to go before then. I have somewhere to be later, too.” He stood, brushing the last of the flour off his white suit, his wings fluttering as they too shook out little puffs of powder. Marinette nodded and joined him, leading him back upstairs and out onto her balcony.

“Thank you for stopping by, gryphlet. I had fun,” she looked away, smiling to herself. “And don’t forget these, your promised treats for helping.” She handed him a cardboard pastry box, containing a few of the goods they had made together.

He beamed at her as he accepted it, and then took her hand in his and bowed. “It was my pleasure, Princess.” He kissed the air above her knuckles and she giggled, struck breathless by his action. He straightened back up and let her go, smiling wide. “I’ll see you again soon.”

And just like that, he was leaping from her balcony and gliding away on wings that matched the sky and clouds.

It took her a little while to go back inside, having taken her time to be dazed as she processed the last few hours. Tikki had broken her out of it with barely restrained giggles and a reminder that they needed to get ready for the picnic with her class.

As expected, the hour passed by quickly after that, and with a little help from her parents, all of Marinette and Chat Blanc’s efforts were brought to the park and set out on tables alongside everyone else’s contributions.

Everyone in their class made it to the park, and a few had even dragged along some family members who were willing to celebrate with them. Many of them spent the whole picnic talking about the school year, and all the random moments that stuck in their minds. Hawkmoth and some Akumas were brought up at some point, and almost half an hour was subsequently spent on everyone acting out each other's Akumatized versions in light and welcomed jest.

When it all started to dwindle to a close, everyone spent time making summer plans together and discussing which lycées they were going to. It was sad to think that their group, together for four years strong, was going to be split up. Luckily, everyone had plans to join extracurricular school groups that were likely to have them meeting up just as often as before. Even their humanitarian projects like planting public trees and gardens was something they were excited to continue.

If anything, they all knew that distance wasn’t going to make their bonds any lesser.

And so, all in all, Marinette had a good time, and she felt ready to keep going into the future.

[snowbellewells]

Self-Promo Sunday: “A Litter More Than They Bargained For”

Hey there friends and shipmates! I’ve taken a couple of weeks off on the Self-Promo Sunday posts, but I was looking back through some of my older pieces and found this fluffy one shot offering from a couple years ago. (It was part of the amazing @cspupstravaganza event in 2019.) I didn’t make it any cover art before, so I’ve added that to it as well. Taking place sometime post- season six; Hope is present and a toddler, but Henry is still there as well. That makes it canon divergent future fluff, I guess? Apologies if you’ve read this one before, but maybe you’ll get a little smile from revisiting it.

Also available on both AO3 HERE and on ff.net HERE

“A Litter More Than They Bargained For”

One pet she could have handled. One pet would have been perfectly manageable. A single, sweet-natured, reasonably well-behaved small pet - maybe a cat or a rabbit or even a hamster - wouldn’t have really changed anything about their lives in the seaside house or their daily routine that much. In fact, she and Killian had already been discussing a surprise for Hope in the form of a kitten from the litter her mom and dad’s barn cat had recently birthed, completely charming their pre-schooler upon her first visit to them at her grandparents’ farm.

Somehow, instead, all of Emma’s best-laid plans had been inverted and overturned, as so often seemed to happen in their chaotic magical town. When they had gone into the station that particular morning, they had found a large, mud-caked, burr-riddled dog tied to the bike rack and whining pitifully upon first sight of them. Emma was too disgruntled at the culprit for figuring out that their whole three person department were soft touches for strays as she charged foward to untie the poor beast, to even realize that the critter was already rooting into her affection. Needless to say, rather than their intended adoption, they had managed to take in a shaggy, slobbery mixed breed almost as large as a Shetland pony, with at least some Irish Wolfhound in its ancestry, according to the shelter attendant.

Gleefully mimicking that last declaration in her toddler voice, Hope had leaned over out of Killian’s arms to reach for where the huge hound lounged panting on the exam table, tongue lolling and tail thumping happily as she babbled, “Wolfie! Wolfie!” and patted along the dog’s back and shoulders as well as she could.

The thick, scruffy grey fur covering the animal’s lanky form did indeed resemble a wolf to some degree, and Kililan chuckled good naturedly at the easy moniker their daughter had seemingly bestowed. “Well, it would seem our little love has already christened her, Swan,” he commented lightly.

Emma wasn’t fooled by the casual demeanor covering her True Love’s words. She felt her last chance of finding a more suitable home for a dog of that size outside the town limits (preferably with acres for it to run) fade as she realized that her husband, as well as her little girl, was already attached. Killian wanted this dog more than he would admit.

Reaching out to stroke the gentle giant’s head resignedly, Emma reluctantly admitted to herself that the poor stray really was a sweet dog, despite her astonishing proportions and the amount of extra responsibility she herself would no doubt be taking on. “Hear that, Wolfie?” she questioned, looking the dog in the eyes rather than either member of her family, whom she could feel nearly vibrating with excitement beside her, “I guess you’re as good as ours.”

Henry only confirmed the permanence of the decision when he got home from the high school after his editors’ meeting for the school paper. Though a dog had never been something he had particularly asked for - they had spent so many of his growing up years being flung from one realm to another, either trying to rescue some member of their family, or seeking the needed magic item to fight some new villain, that it hadn’t left a lot of time for house training puppies or taking one for leisurely evening strolls. Still, as Henry came up the walk and saw Wolfie stretched out on the porch, Hope cuddled against her side and Emma and Killian curled together on the porch swing, the way her nearly adult son’s face had lit up and he’d rushed forward in excitement had shown Emma that kids didn’t really grow out of loving dogs, no matter their age.

Ruby, or perhaps the irrepressible brunette’s inner wild animal, seemed to find their new addition, and the rather obvious name Hope had latched onto, especially entertaining. Due to Wolfie’s size, the Jones clan now ate outside at the patio tables when they stopped for breakfast on the way to drop Hope off at Ashley Hermann’s Pumpkin Seeds Daycare, and before Henry took off for class and they headed on for the station. Her mother’s best friend didn’t even try to hide the fact that she saved back either bacon, sausage, or ham especially for Emma’s pet each day, laughing when after about a week Wolfie came to her the moment she exited the diner’s front entrance, before she could even reach their table, and began nosing at her pockets for the expected bounty.

However, it was Granny herself who startled them with a matter of fact question about a month after Wolfie had joined their family. The diner’s proprietress had come out to wait on them herself that morning, a real nip in the air as November neared, and explaining that Ruby was lying in for a while after the full moon the night before. Her half-spectacles perched on the very end of her nose, eyes sparkling with every bit as much pep and mischief as her exuberant granddaughter when she neared their table, sleeves rolled up to her elbows despite the chill and a pencil tucked behind one ear.

“The usual, Captain?” Widow Lucas asked with a playful nod to Killian, “or are you and your crew feeling adventurous this morning?” While awaiting their answer, she reached into her apron for her order pad, also pulling out a juicy ham bone for Wolfie.

“Here you are, darlin’ girl,” she continued, bending to offer it to their canine companion, much to Wolfie’s approving delight as she barked a ‘thank you’ and took the treat into her drooling jowls with an almost humorous care, then immediately dropped to hold it between her massive paws and began gnawing away.

When Granny stood to face them again however, a knowing smirk was painted across her face, taking their breakfast order seemingly long forgotten. “You don’t have a clue that dog is carrying a litter of pups, do you?” she asked, shaking her head at what she seemed to think was their dense naivete.

Crossing her arms, Granny watched a variety of reactions cross the four faces before her. Henry looked awed and curious, while Hope practically bounced on Killian’s knee asking, “Puppy? Puppy! We having a puppy?” 

Killian’s brows rose in surprise, and Emma was already shaking her head in disgruntled exasperation. “Really?” she sputtered, narrowly eying the diner owner as if she might be playing some sort of elaborate joke at her expense.

Then, plunking her head down to rest on her arms crossed on the table, she sighed as her daughter contiuned to chortle in delight and Henry and Hook laughed heartily, in spite of their manful efforts to hold back for her sake. “Why am I even surprised?” Emma muttered. “Of course, she is.”

***

From there, they learned that apparently the shelter owner did not have it out for them, but that it can be genuinely hard to tell when a dog is expecting until they are quite close to their due date. It also turned out that Granny’s lupine sixth sense had been right on the money. Within another couple weeks, they could see for themselves that Wolfie’s stomach was rounding and she was nesting in corners throughout the house, particularly favoring the warmth of the laundry room between the dryer and the wall. Seeing as how canine gestation was only eight or nine weeks from start to finish, and their mother-to-be was already showing, it was a bit of a scramble to prepare, knowing the litter of pups would soon be on its way.

As had become typical since Wolfie’s arrival, this too went well beyond what they had expected. On the night they returned from Hope’s Thanksgiving Play at the preschool to tiny yips and whimpers greeting them the second the door opened, the entire Jones family was stunned to discover eight small wriggling bodies jostling for place against Wolfie’s exhausted form where she lay curled into the mound of old blankets and towels they had created for her once her fixation on her laundry room nest become plain. Various rather wetly bedraggled and squirming balls of grey, black, white and mottled mixes of those three colors in coat greeted their eyes, prompting Killian to comment rather drily, “Well, now there are nearly enough of us to crew a pirate ship.” He chuckled, shaking his head, as he added, “Mayhap we can give them proper nautical names this time, rather than letting Hope call them the first word that pops from her mouth.”

“Paaa-pa!” their daughter protested indignantly, stomping her little foot on the linoleum tile and placing chubby fists on her hips. “I did not!” In her two braids, beaded headband, and fringed brown “Indian” dress from the play, she made more an adorable than a threatening sight as she intended, but Killian nodded to their daughter dutifully all the same. “My apologies, little lass. Of course you didn’t. I must have been mistaken.”

Emma rolled her eyes and shook her head at his mannered playfulness with Hope, though her heart warmed inside her as well, loving that their little girl had never known anything but a devoted, adoring, present father, who might have to be pulled back from spoiling Hope at times, but would never let her down or abandon her. The two of them could melt her every defense, just as Henry had always done. Even if it did sometimes leave her trying to be the voice of reason, Emma didn’t truly mind.

Henry, for his part, snorted inelegantly at their nonsense, crouching to pet a nervous-looking Wolfie on the head and scritch under her chin the way she liked. “Don’t worry, girl,” he mumured soothingly. “We won’t hurt them. You’re all safe here.”

Her son grew thoughtful for a moment, mulling something over, then looked up when he asked excitedly. “What if we did pick nautical names for them all? Like Jack and Jib and Scurvy?” He was grinning from ear-to-ear now, as his Author’s love of wordplay awakened - an expression Killian quickly mirrored.

“Aye, lad, those are great! And perhaps Scoundrel and Buccaneer as well?”

“Hey, hey, guys,” Emma broke in, trying to stop their now-steaming train before they got any more carried away. “Let’s not get too into naming them. The families who adopt them may not be looking for pirate dogs.”

But her husband and son were already on a roll, adding Barrie (in a nod to the Englishman who had created Killian’s literary counterpart) and Doubloon to the list of potential puppy monikers, and not paying her words the slightest bit of attention.

***

Finding homes for their doggie brood proved more difficult than Emma had hoped. If nothing else, it had worked out that they were being weaned just in time to join a family for the perfect child’s Christmas present. And, much as she had intended for them to have a quiet little tabby kitten padding after her through the house rather than a train of panting, yipping, running and tumbling balls of shedding fluff, the pups were sweet and incredibly cute. So she couldn’t understand how every time she thought she had someone poised to take one home, it fell through at the last moment.

With a sigh, she turned away from the sidewalk where old lady Hubbard was walking away. Still cradling Cutlass and Matey to her chest, one in each arm, Emma crossed the porch to sink onto the porch swing with a dejected air. She bent to press a kiss into each of their soft, fuzzy foreheads, murmuring what good babies they were and that it wasn’t their fault. Intellectually, Emma knew it was rather ridiculous to be trying to comfort two puppies who were now playfully rolling and tumbling in her lap, not the least bit concerned at the interview’s outcome. They really had been particularly good as their potential new owner had arrived to meet them; sitting calmly without barking or jumping up, sweetly licking the elderly woman’s fingers affectionately when she offered them, and looking even more adorable than usual with their coats freshly bathed and brushed, so black and silky that their fur nearly shone. All their neighbor had seemed able to focus on though was that they might get under her feet and cause her to fall. When Emma had spoken to her before, the older lady had seemed so anxious for some company now that the last of her many children had left the house, but once she had arrived to see the puppies, all she kept saying was, “I’m all alone out there. If I fell, I might lie for days, unable to get up, and no one would know.”

Emma shrugged her shoulders and ruffled the pups’ fur once again; annoyed, but not sure what to make of the situation. Standing, she was about to take the two little rascals back inside when Killian arrived home for the evening.

“They’re both still here?” he asked curiously, one eyebrow arched in question.

Something niggled at the back of Emma’s mind with his question, whispering that he didn’t seem especially suprised. Shaking her head in silent answer, Emma ushered man and dogs back into the house and headed toward the kitchen, where she still had all of the dog dishes to fill.

“Ah well, Love,” Killian replied, something about his voice just a shade too nonchalant. “Perhaps it’s for the best. As energetic as these scalliwags sometimes get,” he laughed and scratched Matey’s belly when she rolled over to bare it in supplication, “they might have proven a walking hazard to one of advanced years.”

Emma was about to question him further, shocked that Killian had hit on exactly what had stopped the potential adoption, but at that moment Wolfie and the other six of her offspring burst into the kitchen and set up a chorus of barks and howls for their dinner, toenails clicking on the floor and tails thunking against the cabinets. So it wasn’t until later that night, as she was speaking to her mother on the phone, bemoaning yet one more failed attempt at finding the pups permanent homes, that the niggling puzzle piece at last slid into place.

“Well,” Snow offered hesitantly, “I’m sorry it fell through, Sweetie, but you know Mrs. Hubbard isn’t all that steady on her feet these days…”

Suddenly, it all added up: Mrs. Hubbard’s unexpected concern with puppies tripping her up around the house, how Ashley had at first thought they might take one of the puppies, only to be convinced by someone that mice would be much more fitting for class pets at Cinderella’s daycare, and how Aurora and Philip’s second child, Hope’s little friend Rory, had suddenly decided she wanted a white Persian kitten whose hair she could put a pink bow in, “like ‘Rie from ‘Ristocats” Aurora had explained in her daughter’s own words when she’d called to tell Emma.

“Oh my word!” Emma shouted, startling her husband, kids, and the pile of dogs sprawled over them in the living room where they were watching tv. “It was you all, wasn’t it? My whole family has been working against me this entire time!”

Looking sheepishly guilty, Killian and Henry both wordlessly shook their heads in denial. Her mother floundered for a defense for a few seconds and then simply fled by ending the call. But when Emma’s eyes came to rest on her daughter, Hope merely grinned widely, a shameless glint of mischief in her green eyes, and nodded her head in confirmation.

“Why?” Emma sputtered.

“Then the puppies are all ours!” her toddler chirped happily, falling back against Wolfie’s shoulder with a giggle, to which Wolfie merely huffed at the impact, then nosed Hope a bit further from the edge of the couch, as if she had one extra pup to watch out for and was making sure the child didn’t fall.

“We’ll see about that,” Emma grumbled, staring each of them down in turn. But, when she flopped down on the armchair in the corner, trying to hold onto her righteous indignation, and Scoundrel came over to check on her, pawing at her leg until she picked him up, and then nudging his grey snout flecked with white patches into her armpit as he stretched out across her chest and promptly fell asleep, Emma was smart enough to know when she had lost the fight.

They were the family with nine dogs now - an entire seaworthy crew.

Tagging a few who may enjoy (or enjoy again!): @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @thisonesatellite @artistic-writer @hollyethecurious @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @thislassishooked @therooksshiningknight @spartanguard @shireness-says @ohmightydevviepuu @ohmakemeahercules @scientificapricot @gingerchangeling @teamhook @revanmeetra87@resident-of-storybrooke @elizabeethan @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @xsajx @donteattheappleshook @darkcolinodonorgasm @winterbaby89

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

BFCD Story Concepts by Nesha

Story Concept 01: No Saviors in the Wild Pt. 5

Read Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4

I Am Light by India.Arie plays in background, as it is Shani’s theme.

A Savior is Born: The Rise of the Rebels 02 - A Cage Big Enough for Hundreds

Shani knew what it meant whenever she was escorted back to the dormitories and her files were pulled up and changed. She knew what it meant for the administration to remove her arm cuff, explaining to her that the government had given her a full scholarship for the rest of her studies. When her record was expunged and she was allotted a grace days to recuperate and get back to her regularly scheduled classes with her tuition and lodging paid in full and no sign of the unjust sentence in her history, she knew.

They wanted her to shut up and move on. To just forget about not only what happened to her in the woods, but to the others. To Atlas. She tried to see if she could look him up whenever she got back to the library. The directory didn’t cover Wasteland citizens, so she had to give up after a few days. 

Since she now had free time, not having to work for her education, she decided to get a part time job, for a life skills practice and a few non-academic pleasures that weren’t covered in the tuition + nutrition supply. She started a beret collection, and learning various hobbies as a distraction from thinking about the woods every time she wasn’t involved with a school project.

She bought every single type of M&M that she saw in the store, then grabbed jars to separate them - all plain reds in a big jar, smaller jars for other reds - peanut, almond, etc, and the biggest jar had all of the excess red M&Ms of all sorts put into it. Then... she had several bags of several M&Ms that weren’t red. Researching what to do with them, besides toss them, she found a few recipes for cookies and other treats. Maybe this was a nice time to learn how to bake!

She went knocking on doors of other dorms in her building and nearby buildings, "Hi, I brought you some M&Ms cookies." and they're like... You know what idec. Yes, thanks. Because, the dorms weren’t where the rich students lived. It got her a few suspicious folk, but mostly, people were grateful for something to eat that wasn’t a strict and cheap meal or an even cheaper and far less appealing meal paste. It was the first time that people seemed to begin liking her.

She thinks about getting a tattoo, but they're ridiculously unsafe and very expensive, so instead she gets a tattoo art piece, which is a realistic painting of your body part with a tattoo on it. It's relatively costly, but safe, and hers is an Atlas tattoo, holding the world on his shoulders, on her back, because Atlas had had her back.

She researches Atlas and then goes and finds Greek mythology books in the useless books depository, and takes on learning about it as a hobby. Greek mythology, baking, school, part time job doing data entry, and collecting berets. It kept her occupied, though her mind was frequently on what happened. Months had passed, years were beginning to. She thought for sure that one day, her pain had to be numbed and so she tried not to harp on it. But, how do you just forget somebody who was willing to throw away their life for yours?

18 marked the legal age of adulthood. Shani immediately had a job, right out of school as an interpreter and translator. She was hired at a firm that also allotted her to take more college level courses to advance herself in the field and she began saving up for a place in the city that wasn’t a job related lodging when she had the most important appointment set up for her that she would ever have.

“Hi. I’m Shani, I’ll be helping you today with your assessment. Have a seat.” The wasteland woman looked at the chair that Shani gestured to and smiled, her canines showing and the smile wider than Shani was comfortable with. “Ummm... Sit down?” The woman laughed and nodded. 

“Have a seat. Sit down. Yes. Yes, that makes sense. It took me a moment. You might guess, the wasteland isn’t very prim and proper.”

Shani didn’t want to talk about the wasteland. Instead, she began typing into her computer, “So, Miss... Free... What is your first language?”

“I don’t believe that you have a word for it. I’ll call it wolfen. I doubt it is in your machine.” 

Shani furrowed her eyebrows. “No. I’ve never heard of that before. Where did it originate? If you know...” 

“Hmmm... The Epic of Gilgamesh, maybe.” 

Shani frowned and clasped her hands over each other. “Ma’am. What is this meeting about?”

“I remember you, but you don’t remember me. It’s because you didn’t see me. You didn’t know to look for me. But, I knew to look for you. I’m here, because I have finally found you... Did you think it was right? For them to come in that way? They sent us food. We ate, then they attacked and took my people, took your people, took the wolf with the hair like flames...”

“What are you talking about?” Shani whispered.

“Your mate. He was torn open, then he tasted blood. He became as we are. Not fully, but enough. He became a man who is no longer a man, a man who is now a wolf.”

“Atlas.”

“They took my people. They took your people. You.. were special, somehow. You didn’t go where others went. Why were you special? Why were you spared?” Shani had never considered that she had been either of these things. She lamented over Atlas for so long, she figured that she, too, had been made to suffer. “They were taken to a cage. Some as beasts, some as feed. You were taken to a cottage, and given gifts. Are you a queen?”

“Far from it...” Shani tried to remember what happened in those moments. She vaguely recalled a voice saying, “She was falsely accused. She shouldn’t have been there in the first place, much less get taken to the Kennel. She’s got an arm cuff. She belongs to somebody.” The school. She had been property of the school. She still owed them money and had their equipment on her person, to indicate such...

Her schooling was paid off, not as a means to keep her quiet... but to keep the school quiet. To ensure that they got what she was worth and not ask questions about potential damages she faced while serving a bogus sentence. Sure, she made the most of that, but it had less to do with her and more to do with money.

“They... took them to a cage?”

“A cage big enough for hundreds.”

Tears poured from her eyes and Free took the initiative to offer the woman’s own tissues to her, as she must’ve forgotten that they were on her desk, in her... emotional release. Shani snatched two and tried to clean her face up. They took Atlas to a prison?  “A prison! They... took Atlas to a prison?”

Whenever Free said this, her dark brown eyes glowed amber and at that moment, Shani knew. This... is a wolf. This woman is what she described. A person who is not a person, but a person who is a wolf. “They took everyone there. Everyone but us.”

NOTES: I enjoy the idea of Free being far removed enough from human society that she doesn’t know anything about mannerisms and only has a limited amount of English, that she’s picked up since she’s been scavenging through the wasteland, but that she’s smart (I’d say the smartest wolfen in the series), and she’s adaptable and quick. She’s like a wolfen counterpart to Shani, and that’s why they eventually get on so well. They’re in similar positions, but with vastly different backgrounds. @tiarathief (You are still the first name that comes up whenever I at somebody. Let me know if you don’t want to be tagged to these, please. @shslargue @jacksope-lives

[oberlincollegelibraries]

Weekend Edition: Latinx Memoirs

This weekend we’re taking a look at memoirs by Latinx authors. There are many titles to choose from right here at OCL, but don’t forget that you can also check out books through OhioLINK and SearchOhio for even more options.

Butterfly Boy: Memories of a Chicano Mariposa by Rigoberto González Heartbreaking, poetic, and intensely personal, this is a unique coming-out and coming-of-age story of a first-generation Chicano who trades one life for another, only to discover that history and memory are not exchangeable or forgettable. Growing up among poor migrant Mexican farmworkers, Gonzaĺez also faces the pressure of coming-of-age as a gay man in a culture that prizes machismo. Losing his mother when he is twelve, Gonzaĺez must then confront his father's abandonment and an abiding sense of cultural estrangement. His only sense of connection gets forged in a violent relationship with an older man. By finding his calling as a writer, and by revisiting the relationship with his father during a trip to Mexico, Gonzaĺez finally claims his identity at the intersection of race, class, and sexuality. The result is a leap of faith that every reader who ever felt like an outsider will immediately recognize.--From publisher description

The Motorcycle Diaries by Ernesto Che Guevara The diaries written by Che Guevara during his riotous motorcycle odyssey around South America at the age of twenty-three.

American Chica: Two Worlds, One Childhood by Maria Arana From her father's genteel Peruvian family, Marie Arana was taught to be a proper lady, yet from her mother's American family she learned to shoot a gun, break a horse, and snap a chicken's neck for dinner. Arana shuttled easily between these deeply separate cultures for years. But only when she immigrated with her family to the United States did she come to understand that she was a hybrid American, an individual whose cultural identity was split in half. Coming to terms with this split is at the heart of this graceful, beautifully realized portrait of a child who "was a north-south collision, a New World fusion. An Americanchica." Through Arana's eyes the reader will discover not only the diverse, earthquake-prone terrain of Peru, charged with ghosts of history and mythology, but also the vast prairie lands of Wyoming, "grave-slab flat," and hemmed by mountains. In these landscapes resides a fierce and colorful cast of family members who bring herhistoriavividly to life, among them Arana's proud paternal grandfather, Victor Manuel Arana Sobrevilla, who one day simply stopped coming down the stairs; her dazzling maternal grandmother, Rosa Cisneros y Cisneros, "clicking through the house as if she were making her way onstage"; Grandpa Doc, her maternal grandfather, who, by example, taught her about the constancy of love. But most important are Arana's parents, Jorge and Marie. He a brilliant engineer, she a talented musician. For more than half a century these two passionate, strong-willed people struggled to overcome the bicultural tensions in their marriage and, finally, to prevail.

My Beloved World by Sonia Sotomayor The first Hispanic and third woman appointed to the United States Supreme Court, Sonia Sotomayor has become an instant American icon. Now, with a candor and intimacy never undertaken by a sitting Justice, she recounts her life from a Bronx housing project to the federal bench, a journey that offers an inspiring testament to her own extraordinary determination and the power of believing in oneself. Here is the story of a precarious childhood, with an alcoholic father (who would die when she was nine) and a devoted but overburdened mother, and of the refuge a little girl took from the turmoil at home with her passionately spirited paternal grandmother. But it was when she was diagnosed with juvenile diabetes that the precocious Sonia recognized she must ultimately depend on herself. She would learn to give herself the insulin shots she needed to survive and soon imagined a path to a different life. With only television characters for her professional role models, and little understanding of what was involved, she determined to become a lawyer, a dream that would sustain her on an unlikely course, from valedictorian of her high school class to the highest honors at Princeton, Yale Law School, the New York County District Attorney's office, private practice, and appointment to the Federal District Court before the age of forty. Along the way we see how she was shaped by her invaluable mentors, a failed marriage, and the modern version of extended family she has created from cherished friends and their children. Through her still-astonished eyes, America's infinite possibilities are envisioned anew in this warm and honest book, destined to become a classic of self-invention and self-discovery.

La Distancia Entre Nosotros by Reyna Grande "Cuando el padre de Reyna Grande deja a su esposa y sus tres hijos atrás en un pueblo de México para hacer el peligroso viaje a través de la frontera a los Estados Unidos, promete que pronto regresará; con el dinero suficiente para construir la casa de sus sueños. Sus promesas se vuelven más difíciles de creer cuando los meses de espera se convierten en años. Cuando se lleva a su esposa para reunirse con él, Reyna y sus hermanos son depositados en el hogar ya sobrecargado de su abuela paterna, Evila, una mujer endurecida por la vida. Los tres hermanos se ven obligados a cuidar de sí mismos. En los juegos infantiles encuentran una manera de olvidar el dolor del abandono y a resolver problemas de adultos. Cuando su madre regresa, la reunión sienta las bases para un capítulo nuevo y dramático en la vida de Reyna: su propio viaje a El otro lado para vivir con el hombre que ha poseído su imaginación durante años-- su padre ausente."--Book cover

In the Country We Love: My Family Divided by Diane Guerrero ; with  Michelle Burford  “ Diane Guerrero, the television actress from the megahit Orange is the New Black and Jane the Virgin, was just fourteen years old on the day her parents and brother were arrested and deported to Colombia while she was at school. Born in the U.S., Guerrero was able to remain in the country and continue her education, depending on the kindness of family friends who took her in and helped her build a life and a successful acting career for herself, without the support system of her family. In the Country We Love is a moving, heartbreaking story of one woman's extraordinary resilience in the face of the nightmarish struggles of undocumented residents in this country. There are over 11 million undocumented immigrants living in the US, many of whom have citizen children, whose lives here are just as precarious, and whose stories haven't been told. Written with Michelle Burford, this memoir is a tale of personal triumph that also casts a much-needed light on the fears that haunt the daily existence of families likes the author's and on a system that fails them over and over"-- Provided by publisher

When I Was Puerto Rican by Esmeralda Santiago [The author's] story begins in rural Puerto Rico, where her warring parents and seven siblings led a life of uproar, but one full of love and tenderness as well. Growing up, Esmeralda learned the proper way to eat a guava, the sound of the tree frogs in the mango groves at night, the taste of the delectable sausage called morcilla, and the formula for ushering a dead baby's soul to heaven. But just when Esmeralda seemed to have learned everything, she was taken to New York City, where the rules - and the language - were bewilderingly different. How Esmeralda overcame adversity, won acceptance to New York City's High School of Performing Arts, and then went on to Harvard, where she graduated with highest honors, is a record of a tremendous journey by a truly remarkable woman.-BooksInPrint.

[sigynthevictorious]

Reunited?

Bit of filler because it's stuck in my head 😂 @naganye

Nine months after Aradir’s ‘death’ 

Not a day went past where Valka didn’t think of Aradir, she no longer cried everyday but the ache remained. For a moment it felt as if she had everything, but as quickly as their love blossomed, it was taken just as quickly. In a day everything had crumbled around her, now all she had to remember that he was even real were a few photographs and the child that stirred within her belly. 

It hadn’t been easy, everything seemed to happen at once and she had lost count of the amount of arguments and lectures she had been given by her father. Of course neither of her parents would ever kick her out, but the tension was heavy. 

Her room, once filled with countless musical instruments that had now been sold, was now adorned with various baby furnishings. The crib was set up where her desk and keyboard once stood and her extensive wardrobe was sacrificed for baby grows and bibs. She missed her old life, part of her didn’t want this. She was still young, and now unable to finish college with her friends she felt as if she had nothing that was her own. Occasionally she resented Aradir and her choices, but as quickly as those feelings came, they were just as quickly replaced by pangs of guilt and sorrow. Both for herself, him and the fact their child would never meet their father and that Aradir was never given the chance to be told that he had a proper little family waiting for him. 

Her feelings of sorrow and the realisation that he wasn’t here with her only intensified the morning her waters broke. Her mother was beyond reassuring and helpful, while she was saddened this had happened to her youngest child she supported her the entire time so she was not alone. So as the contractions grew closer and Valka was admitted to hospital, she hardly let go of her mother’s hand. 

The pain was unbearable, she couldn’t help but scream and cry through every contraction as she felt as if she were being ripped apart. Too far gone for an epidural she could do little else but pray the child came quickly. Which thankfully it did. 

After getting slightly stuck, soon a strong cry filled the room and a bright pink screaming child was placed upon Valka’s chest. In that moment nothing else mattered, as she looked into the face of her child she knew she had made the right decision and was utterly devoted to them. 

“It’s a boy,” the midwife confirmed. 

“A boy” Valka sighed, exhausted but elated as she held her son, drying him off with a blanket and pressing a kiss to his fair forehead. 

Valka spent almost every day staring at her son, he was so perfect. “I wish you could meet your daddy” she sighed, rocking him in her arms before crying as he opened his pale eyes at her. “I think he would have loved you so much,” she sniffed, wiping her eyes. “He was funny, kind, handsome and so, so brave, just like you will be,” she continued, “and I loved him, and I promise I’ll tell you all about him when you’re older.” she promised. “Parker Aradir Noreth” she cooed, rather liking the name as it rolled off her tongue. 

---

Three years after Aradir’s ‘death’

Every day was a delight, well almost, as Parker grew. He was such a happy child, a mop of bright orange hair covered his head and his pale eyes gleamed with mischief constantly. 

Still living with her parents, Parker was doted upon by his mother, grandparents and uncle when he came to visit. Everyone that met him adored him, even when he started daycare and nursery he seemed to make friends with all the other children with ease. Valka was immensely proud, her thoughts of Aradir lessened but every so often she would see her son laughing on the swing set and be reminded of her lost love. 

---

Seven years after Aradir’s ‘death’

Parker thrived at school, top of his class and a well liked figure amongst the other students. Valka managed to finish college and with the support of her parents got her university degree too. Working at a publishing house as a translator she loved her life. Now Parker was growing up she even moved into her own flat and started playing music again in the evenings. Everything seemed to be falling into place. 

“Mum, I need some help” Parker said one evening, sitting up at the dining table whilst going through his homework. “We have to make a family tree for history, and grandpa gave me lots of things but...everyone writes about both their mummy and daddy. What should I put for my dad?” he asked nervously, not wanting to potentially upset his mother. He knew little about his father, only that he was a soldier. But now it seemed he was at that age where he wanted to know more. 

Valka dried her hands and stepped away from the washing up, her heart both warming and sinking at the question. “Well, I don’t know a lot of things. But I’m sure we can put something together” she agreed, going to her bedroom for a moment and coming back out with a shoe box. 

“Now, we can copy some of these if you want and stick them in” she explained as she opened the box. A collection of photographs and momentos filled it. The cinema ticket from their first date, the recipes he had written for her, pictures of their dates and a CD filled with the songs she had written for Aradir. “This was him, he was an orphan so I don’t know anything about the rest of his family. He grew up in care” she began, placing a picture of Aradir in his uniform in front of her son. 

“Like the children that nanny looks after?” Parker asked, picking up the picture to get a better look at the pale eyed stranger. 

“Yes, just like them. Then, he joined the army and became one of the youngest ever lieutenants” she continued proudly, smiling as she watched Parker’s pale eyes examine the photo. “You have his eyes, and you’ll be tall like him too” she explained whilst looking at the photo of her and Aradir on their second date, just after they became ‘official’. “Not long after we met, he had to go away with the army to another country. Now you have to remember that sometimes bad things happen, even to the bravest of people and well, he was in an accident, and he died out there” she tenderly explained so Parker could understand. 

The young boy nodded, glancing at his mother before looking back at the photograph. “Can I keep this?” he asked, to which his surprised mother agreed. She helped him write out the family tree and added a bit of artistic flair to it. It did look rather lopsided, with her enormous family detailed on one side, then with the lonely Aradir on the other it was upsetting. But she was proud he was there. 

“I wish I had a dad,” Parker said as they finished, “one that was here.” 

The words cut Valka and played on her mind for weeks after. Maybe she had been selfish in not giving him a fatherly role model, but she had never had any desire to get into another relationship. But perhaps it was time she did, at least for Parker’s sake. 

---

Ten years after Aradir’s ‘death’ 

There were plenty of suitors, but as soon as they heard about Parker they all quickly left, not wanting to get involved with a woman who had a child. But there was one who stayed. Derek was nice enough, he came from an army background too and was conventionally handsome and seemed genuinely interested in Parker. Most importantly Parker liked him too. She didn’t feel for him the same way she had with Aradir, but maybe that was part of growing up? A teenage romance surely wasn’t the same as an adult one? So after a couple years together, she agreed to marry him.It felt like the right thing to do. And he was very insistent. 

The ring was a beautiful vintage art deco emerald and diamond design, to match her eyes apparently, and Derek was adamant no expense was to be spared for their big day. Valka was excited, but not as overjoyed as she had always imagined she would be. Surely that would change once she got her dress she thought, and when it didn’t then perhaps once she got the cake things would fall into place. 

She searched through various bakeries, getting quotes and going to tasting sessions but nothing took her fancy until Derek suggested one that was run by ex-forces members and how it would mean a lot to him. She let Derek arrange a cake tasting appointment with them and actually felt rather excited. Derek was running late from work so she took Parker with her instead, after all he fancied himself quite the connoisseur when it came to eating and cooking. Just like his father. 

“Can I get a gingerbread man?” Parker asked as he walked hand in hand with Valka into the quaint bakery, his pale eyes lighting up at the cabinets filled with various sweet treats. 

“If you’re good and they have some then yes” she agreed, smiling as she admired the bakery before going to the till. “Hi, I’m here for a cake tasting. It’s under the name Derek Henderson” she explained, the girl behind the counter nodded and went out back, explaining she was just going to fetch the owner for her. 

Valka knelt beside Parker as they admired some of the beautiful pastries, Parker making an ever changing list of what he wanted to try. Tucking some of her now short hair behind her ear she too made a wish list of what she wanted and seeing that they made banana splits upon request made her feel it was some kind of fate she came here. 

“He’ll be out in a moment” the sales assistant said when she came back out, but when Valka turned upon hearing the footsteps come out from the kitchen she froze in her place as if she had just seen a ghost. 

“Aradir?” 

[agentofscifi]

Success is the Best Kind of Revenge: Ch 2

The whole classroom is sitting there in shock as Marinette, Chloe, Alix, and Juleka leave the room. Juleka’s mom follows them out, giving a smile to the Superintendent.  

Alya was still pale after being told she was now the Class Representative. She’d seen the piles of paperwork Marinette had to complete. None of it was quick or easy.  

The silence in the rooms holds until the door shuts behind them and then the yelling starts.  

“How could she have lied so well!” Rose is crying once more, thick tear trails soaking the tissue Marinette had given her earlier. Rose’s mother pulls her in for a small hug.  

“We collected money for her!” Myléne’s eyes are wide. “We collected money for her charities!”  

Kim raises an eyebrow. “How’s that a bad thing?”  

“Because it’s charity fraud.” Ivan’s voice is heard throughout the room, despite the fact that he wasn’t yelling. “We collected money for a charity that doesn’t exist. It’s illegal.”  

“We,” Myléne cuts off with a sniff. “We could have gone to jail. We almost went to jail over break.”  

Kim looks away with a grimace. “I went through something similar. Lila gave me this stuff, she said it would help with my swimming. She told me her olympic friend recommended it. You know, like organic stuff. Turns out it was steroids. They found out at my last surprise drug test before winter break. All my Universities pulled out and I got kicked off the swim team this morning.”  

Kim’s Mom blinks and then she lets her face fall into her hands. “You took pills from a classmate, without asking what was in them!”  

His father groans. “Well, this explains how you got those pills. Why didn’t you just tell us this?”  

Kim flushes. “I thought Lila was lied to, you know. I didn’t think she’d do this on purpose.”  

His mother lets out a sob. “All your scholarships! All your Universities!”   

On the opposite side of the room a different argument was taking place. Nino’s mother is glaring down at him, disappointment in her eyes. “When you said you weren’t talking to Marinette as much, I assumed it was because you grew apart. I did not think it was because you ignored all common sense to trust an exchange student over someone you’ve known since école maternelle.”  

Nino’s face is red. “I-I just her stories were so great and our class has done some amazing things. I didn’t think it was so far-fetched.”  

His mother purses her lips. “You didn’t think it was so far-fetched that Marinette was a bully. Marinette, who brought in cookies and cupcakes for every birthday. Marinette, who made you a custom jacket when you lost your favorite one on a vacation. Marinette, who brought you soup and get-well gifts every time you stayed home sick. This is who you thought was a bully.”  

Nino opens and closes his mouth a few times before finally closing it and looking down at the table. His mother throws her arms up in the air. “You stood there and watched, or even recorded, as your classmates physically assaulted Marinette. You are lucky, so very lucky, that she didn’t press charges. You were 18 for some of the worst offenses.”  

“I lost all of my University acceptances, Mom.” Nino hesitantly looks up at her.   

Mrs. Lahiffe whips her head down. “Nino! You could have lost a few years of your life, thousands of euros, and the ability to go to college. You have no criminal record, but you could have started one with the stunts you have pulled. You are lucky the police were willing to just give you service hours. This won’t even appear in your permanent record.” Nino nods mutely.  

Nathaniel is having a similar, but less heated argument with his parents, too. “My comics! They’re all missing online and the company that I signed a contract with has pulled the contact. There’s a pending copyright suit!”  

“Nathaniel!” His father sighs and places a hand on his shoulder. “We’ve talked to the people issuing the suits and explained the situation. They agreed to not press charges if you were dropped from the company and all of the art work is pulled off the internet.”  

Nathaniel stares at his father. “What! They can’t do that!”  

“Yes, Nathaniel, they can.” His mother is on the other side of him. “You copied someone else's work and didn’t credit them. You tried to sell that work and make money. That’s illegal. ”  

“Lila said she helped! That I could do this and it was ok.”  

Nathaniel’s father sighs. “Even if Lila had been involved, you still should have credited the other person. It still would have been illegal”

Nathaniel’s head drops onto the desk. “My life is ruined.”  

His mother places her hand on his shoulder. “A year off to...reimagine your art will do you some good.” Nathaniel only moans.  

Across from Nathaniel is Rose and her father. There was no lecture or comments from her father as Rose was too busy sobbing into his shirt. Prince Ali’s abrupt and simple ending of their relationship made more sense now, as did the comments by the music schools. Rose had changed so much of herself to help Lila or because Lila gave her some advice. Rose honestly didn’t know what to do now that it was all a lie.  

Sabrina, up in the front row, was hunched over herself. Her father had given her a none stop lecture about responsibility, trust, and legality that she hadn’t said a word. “You’re grounded for the next year!” Officer Raincomprix is red in the face. “We’ll talk about University after the next New Years, but for the next year you will be staying with me.” Sabrina nods.  

Her father deflates slightly. “Sabrina, you have no idea how lucky you are. 100 hours of community service will feel like nothing in the long run.” Sabrina just nods, curling in on herself.  

Back up by Max it was quieter. Max’s Mother was mumbling into her hand, asking how her brilliant son could be so stupid. Max’s was looking at his hands sheepishly. He’d attempted to disprove all of stuff about Lila by finally looking her up only to find nothing good. The Ladyblog came up first, filled with all of Lila’s lies. There were several news articles and twitter posts after that from Celebrities calling her out for lying or casually asking who this Italian Rossi girl was when it was brought up in interviews.  

Max then looked to Markov to ask why he said that Lila wasn’t lying only to find out that his robot marked most of Lila’s stores as inconclusive. It was all very vague and “he said, she said” situations. He couldn’t form a true conclusion without the other people in the stories being asked. This screwed the results in Lila’s favor. Max hadn’t looked up since Markov made that announcement to the class.  

However, the loudest and biggest argument was happening between Alya and her Mother, who were practically in a screaming match. “Alya! Stop blaming everyone else for your mistakes!” Marlena Césaire's coat was askew and her face red with narrowing eyes.  

“But Lila lied! I didn’t do anything! Why am I being rejected from my Universities? Why do I have to get rid of the Ladyblog!”  

“You attacked Marinette! You physically harmed her on the word of another student. Instead of getting a teacher or the police, or talking to us, you attacked her. Marinette got a concussion and stitches after the last assault when you pushed her down the stairs. As for the Ladyblog, you posted so many lies. It’s practically a shrine to that girl Alya.”  

“But Lila told us Marinette pushed her!” Alya’s phone is in her hand, clenched in a tight hand. “And, Lila told me all those stories!”  

“And yet, Lila had no injuries. And yet, Lila didn’t go to the proper authorities. Instead, you suggested getting even with Marinette. You started this!”  

“But Lila lied!” Alya sounded like a broken record, always repeating the same things. “Lila’s a psychopath or something!”  

“And you're the sheep who followed that psychopath Alya. You didn't look into any of this. You took her words as facts. You lectured Marinette about facts and yet you looked for nothing! Even now, you seem to think about no one but yourself. You’re screaming about how Lila lied and how that’s affected you. Have you once thought about what this must have been like for Marinette? You reject her for a new, shiny thing. You bully, verbally insulted, physically harmed, and stole from that girl. If it had been me, I’d have used the full force of the law against you. You’d have gotten more than a cease and desist order, a restraining order, and order from the blog’s removal.”  

“But Mom!”  

“Alya!” Otis Césaire stands from up. “You made mistakes, now you have to pay the consequences. You’ve been telling us for years that you’re an adult. Now act like it!”  

Mrs. Vaux chooses this point in time to clear her throat. “Mr. Agreste?” Adrien looks up from his seat. He’d been silent and pale as everyone took in the truth about Lila. “Your Aunt is here for you.” Amelie Graham de Vanily was standing in the doorway, a severe look on her face.  

Nino looks up at him. “Dude, what about your Dad?”  

Adrien gulps and looks down. “My Dad was hawkmoth. Ladybug caught him over the weekend.”  

The whole class, and their parent’s, take in a deep breath. Alya turns her eyes over to him. “You worked with Hawkmoth!”  

Marlena Césaire grabs her daughter and drags her down onto the bench. “Alya!”  

One of the police officers clears his throat. “We have questioned Mr. Agreste and found him innocent. Ladybug spoke on his behalf after Hawkmoth’s identity was revealed.”  

Adrien shrugs. “I’m moving in with my Aunt and cousin in London. I’ll be finishing Lycée online. I just… need to get away.”  

Nino gives Adrien a small smile. “Keep in touch.”  

Adrien returns it nervously as he packs up his stuff. As he walks up to his aunt he turns to give the class an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, about Lila. I didn’t think she’d taken things this far.”  

Nino blinks slowly as the rest of the class starts to process those words. “Wait? Dude, did you know that Lila was lying?”  

Adrien nods. “I thought she just wanted friends at first and didn’t know how to make real ones. Marinette called her out and she got akumatized. I didn’t want that to happen again!”  

“So, you let her lie to us?” Nino leans back on the bench, putting a few more inches between the two of them.  

“I thought she was like a tabloid. You have to ignore the lies for them to go away.”  

Alya lets out a blood thirsty scream. “This is all your fault! If you had just told us-”  

“Alya Césaire!” Her mother grabs her once again and pulls her down.   

Most of the class is staring at Adrien in horror. Rose was just sobbing even harder. The parents had more of a pitying look as they gazed at the son of Hawkmoth. Being the child of a magical terrorist who doubled as an abusive father probably didn’t help a child learn right from wrong.  

Adrien looks down. “I’m sorry.” His aunt places a hand and guides her nephew out the door, giving the police and the superintendent each a nod.  

The door closes in the silent room before chatting starts up again. The students are all trying to talk to each other and their parents at once. No one was quite sure of what they were supposed to do with that information. Hawkmoth had been found, they’d gathered that from the police saying that Hawkmoth named Lila as an accomplice. However, Hawkmoth being Adrien’s Dad was another matter entirely. Then there was the whole fact that Adrien knew about Lila. He had stood there, for years, letting them be used. Their overly kind classmates had done nothing to stop Lila as she twisted all of them like puppets.  

Mrs. Vaux clears her throat again. “You all have the rest of the day off. It was mentioned to me that this must be stressful to you all and I agree. You won’t learn anything else today. Besides,” she turns around to glare at Miss. Bustier and Principle Damocles. “We have some staffing issues to handle.” Both of them shrink down at the gaze.   

Mrs. Vaux looks back at the kids. “You all have mandatory school therapy twice a week for the rest of the school year. With everything that has happened, I think it will be healthy for all of you. Miss. Lucilia,” one of the women behind her steps forward. “Will be your teacher for the rest of the year. Ms. Birch,” the second woman steps forward. “Will be the acting principal for the rest of the school year.” She gives the class more onceover. The students all looked overly confused and their parent’s looked exhausted. “You are all excused.”

Ch. 1 ~~~~~ Ch. 3

[quicksilversquared]

Pants on Fire

Ladybug AU/ After Lila decides that Adrien's implied threat has no teeth and decides not to walk back on her claims about Marinette, Marinette stays expelled. But she has absolutely no intention to let things stay that way.

Soon enough, Lila will wish that she had taken Adrien's easy way out.

links in the reblog

Across the street, the school bell rang, and the last of the Françoise Dupont students cleared off of the sidewalk and into the building. From her balcony, Marinette could see her old classmates in their homeroom, gradually making their way to their desks. Lila was still sitting in the back, but Marinette didn't doubt that before long, she would have taken over Marinette's old seat.

Day three of her expulsion from Dupont, and Marinette was (rightfully) no less bitter about it now than she had been three days ago.

Seriously, how was it fair that she got expelled without any sort of investigation? How was it legal? How had her teachers and principal even believed that Marinette would do anything like what Lila had claimed?

Did Lila have secret brain-draining superpowers that no one had found out about yet? That was the only thing that she could think of.

"At least Adrien tried to get Lila to come clean," Tikki offered as her Chosen clambered down from her balcony and headed for her desk. "I mean, I know it didn't work because Lila is too stubborn, but..."

"At least he tried," Marinette finished. She was really grateful for that, honestly. When Adrien had stopped over to check in on her the previous day, he had sounded super frustrated. Apparently Lila had somehow gotten herself invited to his photoshoots and he had confronted her then, trying to bargain the appearance of his friendship to get Lila to walk back her claims about Marinette. At the time, Lila had seemed to agree, but she hadn't followed through afterwards.

Count Marinette not surprised. If Lila walked back on any of her claims, well, that meant that all of her other claims would be questioned, and she would not want to open that door. Even if that meant irritating Adrien.

"And at least someone at Dupont knows that it was Lila's fault," Marinette added with a sigh. Not that it did anything, really, since no one would listen to Adrien, but it was still nice. "And at least he's planning on coming over again and talking to my parents today, so that they aren't just going on my word that I didn't actually do any of the stuff Lila accused me of. But that doesn't get me un-expelled."

"Well, if you can't do anything about it, maybe we should just brush it off and move on," Tikki suggested. "Mulling over it isn't going to help, and if an akuma comes again-"

Marinette hid her scowl and reached for her remote, flipping her monitor from computer screen to TV to drown out the rest of Tikki's words. She knew that it wasn't a good thing that an akuma had actually managed to get as far as corrupting her purse, even if Marinette had still had enough control at the time to start taking her earrings out so that Tikki could fly away with them. Tikki didn't have to keep reminding her that getting akumatized wouldn't be good. Marinette knew that.

(Marinette was this close to going to Master Fu without Tikki and talking to him about her kwami's constant scolding. Marinette knew that her duties as Ladybug were important, but what about the girl under Ladybug's mask? Didn't her feelings matter, too? What was she supposed to do, take a train out to the countryside so that she was out of Hawkmoth's range and only let her emotions out there? Be an emotionless robot until Hawkmoth was defeated? No thank you.)

"Don't be bemused, it's just the news!" Nadja Chamack was saying on-screen, beaming into the camera as Marinette pulled up her first lesson of the day on her tablet. "In today's news, we have extended coverage from the most recent akuma battle, updates from the mayor on proposed new recycling initiatives, and much, much more!"

Madam Chamack chatted on as Marinette started reading through her first class's lesson, determined to at least stay on top of her studies and not let herself fall behind. The online school she had gotten herself enrolled in for the time being was flexible enough that if she got a little behind schedule because of an akuma attack it wouldn't be too big of an issue, but there was no point starting off on the wrong foot.

Besides, if she could work ahead, then she could maybe have some more free time to try to make some progress on tracking down Hawkmoth. That would be making the most out of her situation, at least, and then she would be in a better position to focus on improving her designs and sewing techniques so that she could start developing a portfolio while she was in lycée.

Tikki finally settled down across the room, fiddling with some of Marinette's extra thread and beads while Marinette worked her way through the day's Literature lesson, then Math and Civics and Chemistry. The TV kept playing in the background, muted only when Marinette needed to listen to a video for her schoolwork on her tablet.

"Morning classes done ahead of schedule," Marinette said cheerfully as soon as she finished her last electron drawing. "And homework for them finished at the same time, not that there was much homework to do to start with. Time for a break, I think."

"It is almost time for lunch," Tikki agreed, flying over to join her. "You wouldn't be getting out for another half-hour at Dupont, but you've been working hard! And normally, you would have breaks between classes."

"Mm-hmm." Marinette glanced back up at her computer monitor to glance at the time, then did a double-take when she saw the screen. "Hey, I remember hearing something about this before! Tikki, can you turn up the volume?"

"-the continued fallout from the plagiarism scandal at Paris's famed university for the arts," Madam Chamack said onscreen as Tikki bumped the volume. "Another professor has been linked to the scam, which came to light after a student discovered the plagiarism. After the faculty member that she brought her concerns to didn't do anything about the issue, the student, who wishes to remain unidentified, did her own digging and found enough evidence to go straight to the police."

Marinette froze, eyes fixed on the screen as Madam Chamack kept talking, telling her viewers the timeline of what had been discovered so far. There was a lot, with faculty members at the university trying to sweep the problem under the rug all because of some rich donors who wanted to keep the flow of ideas coming to them. Three attempts from the student to let professors and administrators know that it was happening had all been swept aside with empty assurances and nothing had happened.

No one had expected the stubborn student, armed with facts and evidence to the point where she could directly get the police involved.

And Marinette's brain went aha.

There was plenty of evidence out there that Lila was lying, if only people bothered to look. The looking had been the issue at school, with everyone just taking Lila at her word instead of actually looking for themselves. Marinette didn't doubt that Lila had taken at least some steps to cover her steps- forging her mother's signature, probably, and giving incorrect email addresses that would divert to any emails to her mother to a mimic email that Lila could control- but that didn't mean that they just had to take that at face value!

But if Marinette compiled a whole pile of evidence, then- well, Marinette wasn't going to kid herself into saying that that would solve everything, either. Knowing the discipline that was given at her school, Lila would probably get a tap on the hand as punishment, and everything would get swept under the rug. But if Marinette got evidence, and then went to the proper authorities so that Ms. Buster and Mr. Damocles were forced to act, well...

That might be the exact thing she needed.

  Adrien wasn't sure what to expect when he headed over to the Dupain-Cheng bakery after school. He had waited until most of the other students had cleared off before leaving, so that Lila wouldn't see him going over and try to mess things up even more, then ducked into the bakery itself.

He had told the Gorilla that he was studying at the school for a couple hours, so hopefully he wouldn't be interrupted.

"Good afternoon, Adrien," Mrs. Cheng greeted him. She didn't sound as upbeat as she usually did, which wasn't much of a surprise considering that Marinette's expulsion was still fresh. "What can I get for you today?"

"I wanted to talk to you, actually," Adrien told her, glancing around the bakery. The collège student rush had passed, and now there was only a businessman perusing the shelves of baked goods. "About what happened earlier this week-"

Mrs. Cheng's shoulders stiffened, and her smile became a bit more wooden. "I appreciate the concern, Adrien, but-"

"Lila's a liar," Adrien blurted before she could wave him out of the bakery. "She's been making up stories left and right about knowing all these famous people ever since she arrived in Paris, and she's had it out for Marinette from the start because Marinette never fell for her lies."

Mrs. Cheng blinked at him, clearly perplexed. "Are you sure that Lila is making up her stories? Alya dropped by for a couple minutes yesterday and she seemed certain that Marinette was just jealous."

Adrien only just barely resisted the urge to snort. Marinette, jealous? Marinette was possibly the most connected person in their class, if he didn't count the connections that he and Chloe had just because of who their parents were. She designed things for Jagged Stone on at least a semi-regular basis, and Clara Nightingale knew her and liked her, and his father had complimented Marinette's designs. "I'm positive, Mrs. Cheng. Lila claimed to be Ladybug's best friend right after she first arrived in Paris, and I was there when Ladybug confronted Lila about lying. And Lila claimed that she once saved Jagged Stone's kitten on an airplane tarmac and so he's a huge fan of hers, and Marinette knows Jagged Stone. She knows that Jagged never had a kitten. And if Lila was making that up, the probability of everything else being a lie, too..."

Mrs. Cheng's expression turned pensive.

"Besides, the pendant that Lila claimed was her grandmother's is actually from my father's latest jewelry line," Adrien added. "It's a replica of the Fox Miraculous, and she bought it shortly after she arrived in Paris. And Lila claimed to have injured her ankle from falling down the stairs, but as soon as there isn't any attention on her, she's walking just fine. And the foot that she's 'favoring' keeps switching."

"And the teachers didn't notice that, or investigate?" Mrs. Cheng asked, the doubt in her voice finally starting to vanish. "It's what they're meant to do, surely."

Adrien could only shrug. He wasn't sure why Marinette's expulsion had been rushed, unless... "Lila told us that her mom's an Italian diplomat. They might have just not wanted to cause an incident."

Mrs. Cheng muttered something under her breath that Adrien didn't entirely catch, but it sounded rather like "I'll show them an incident."

...if Mrs. Cheng was going to storm over to the school to throw hands with Mr. Damocles, Adrien wanted to be there.

"Thank you for letting me know, Adrien," Mrs. Cheng finally said after a couple of seconds had passed. "I didn't want to doubt Marinette, because the accusations didn't sound like her, but I was putting too much faith in the teachers, it seems. That, and the fact that Alya seems to like Lila... well, that was a bit confusing."

Adrien nodded. He could understand that.

"You can go up to see Marinette, if you want," Mrs. Cheng added after another pause. "I mean, if she's working on her schoolwork then don't disturb her, but I'm sure she would enjoy seeing you otherwise."

"Thank you, Mrs. Cheng."

"And here, have a cookie on your way up, I know these are your favorite."

Adrien lit up as he accepted the treat. "Thank you, Mrs. Cheng!"

That mission accomplished, Adrien headed up the stairs with a bounce in his step. It seemed like Mrs. Cheng had believed him, which would hopefully help repair any strain that had appeared in the relationship between Marinette and her parents. He wasn't sure if Marinette's parents would be able to get through to Mr. Damocles any better than he had- Adrien had tried talking to their principal again today between classes, only to get immediately brushed off- but it was at least a step in the right direction.

Even with a fresh cookie to munch on, it didn't take Adrien long to reach the Dupain-Cheng living room. Marinette's trap door was propped partway open, so he headed, up, keeping his steps quiet in case she was still trying to study. Up above, he could hear Marinette's voice, a low murmur as though she were absentmindedly talking to herself.

"Okay, so either Lila was lying about her mom being an ambassador, or the pictures that she showed us of her with her mom were photoshopped," Marinette was musing aloud when Adrien popped his head in her room behind her, going completely unnoticed. She was sitting in front of the computer, intently focused on something onscreen. It didn't sound like schoolwork, though, so Adrien slipped through her open trapdoor and into her room. "Which would make sense, if she didn't want us recognizing her mom out on the street and saying anything about all of her lies, but how good would she have to be at Photoshop, really?"

"This doesn't sound like schoolwork," Adrien teased, making Marinette yelp and startle before spinning to face him. "Your mom said not to disturb you if you were still doing your lessons, but is it safe to say you've finished?"

"Finished and then some," Marinette agreed, waving him over. "Right now, I'm finding evidence."

Adrien bounced up, at her side in a moment, instantly curious. "Evidence? That Lila's lying, I'm guessing, just based on what I just overheard."

"Exactly." Marinette waved at her screen. "And right now, what I'm finding is that Mrs. Rossi isn't an ambassador. Not unless she has a different last name than Lila and isn't the same person that Lila showed us in her photos."

"I- what?" Adrien leaned over, scanning the computer screen. Marinette let him, scrolling down to let him see the rest of the page, which was apparently from the Italian Embassy's site and showed all of their top staff. Sure enough, there was no sign of the woman whose picture Lila had shown them of her mom. "That's just- wow. Uh, do any of them have, like, personal descriptions at all? You know, like get-to-know-me pages?"

Marinette shook her head. "I've already checked. They're all very professional, no personal information in sight. Which doesn't surprise me, really. I mean, if there are people out there who might have a bone to pick with the embassy for some reason, you don't want too much personal information online."

Adrien opened his mouth, then closed it. He hadn't thought of that. He also didn't understand why someone might have an issue with an ambassador to the point of wanting to target their family, but if Marinette thought that that might be an issue, then he would believe her.

"So that's a dead end for the time being," Marinette told him. "Which is fine, really, because I got a job description of what ambassadors do, which isn't what Lila has been telling people, and then this is evidence that either she's lied about her mom being an ambassador, or she's lying about what her mom looks like-"

"Or she's lying about which country her mom is ambassador for," Adrien finished. He shrugged when she gave him a dubious look. "I mean, it's possible! Then the teachers wouldn't know which embassy to contact."

"I guess. I hadn't thought of that."

"D'you think it's enough to make Mr. Damocles undo your suspension?" Adrien asked, stepping back to snag Marinette's extra chair and pulling it over to sit next to her. "Because I mean, it feels a little mean to say it, but... he sometimes doesn't seem the sharpest? And I just worry that he might try to say that Lila's other lies don't matter, just because of what they 'found' in your bag and locker."

Marinette ducked her head, clearly trying to hide a giggle. Adrien was glad that he could amuse her, at least. "I'm not planning on going over with just a little evidence. Lila could probably lie her way out of that. I want to find a ton of evidence and actually get other authorities involved. Like, Lila definitely was skipping class without permission, and there are such things as truancy officers."

...this was starting to sound serious. Like, really serious.

"That seems like a lot of work that you shouldn't have to do, Marinette," Adrien pointed out, suddenly worried for his friend. He knew that Marinette had a tendency to overwork herself, and with all of the additional stress of getting expelled, that didn't seem like a good idea. "Are you sure-"

"That I want to spend time on it? Definitely," Marinette finished. "I'm not sitting by and letting Lila get away with expelling me. It'll go on my permanent school record- getting expelled, and the cheating and the stairs and the stealing from another student. Once I get to lycée and go back to a traditional school, the teachers won't trust me at all." Her expression became determined. "So if the adults won't step up and help, then I'll make it so that they can't not help."

...Adrien hadn't thought of that before. Being expelled from the school that Marinette had gone to for years and from classmates that she had known for even longer was bad enough on its own. But the effects didn't just stop there, and that had to suck. Like, a lot.

(Adrien was going to ask Plagg to destroy Lila's homework, he really was. Maybe it was petty, but in comparison to what Lila had done? It was nothing.)

"Ooh, yeah, I didn't think about that." Adrien scooted closer, glancing at her for permission before snagging her notebook to look at her list of lies. There... well, there were a lot of them. He had kind of tuned Lila out after a point, so to be honest, he didn't remember all of them. One of the topmost bullet points caught his eye, though, and Adrien frowned in confusion. "You're trying to disprove her being abroad using her Skyping? How is that meant to work?"

Marinette grinned, perking up and snagging her tablet from next to the computer. "Yeah, I took pictures of her when she was Skyping us, and they're clear enough to make out the background behind her." She tapped a couple spots on her screen, then turned it to face Adrien. Sure enough, there was an entire folder of pictures of Lila Skyping them from a whole bunch of different places. "Aside from the fact that she definitely wouldn't get enough Internet to get be able to call us from the street- or good enough cell service to get that clear of a photo- there's no people or cars in the background. Of very main streets. Ever."

Adrien's jaw dropped, and he stared at her in admiration. He had suspected that Lila wasn't telling the full truth, of course, but he had mostly thought that she was lying about who she was meeting, not necessarily where she was. But Marinette was absolutely right. "Wow, Marinette. I didn't- I didn't even think of that! You're brilliant. So what was she in front of, then? Posters?"

Marinette nodded. "I think so. I did a little bit of searching at the time, and if she had used a greenscreen, then she would have risked a little distorted halo showing up around her. Either way, she had to get the picture from the backdrop somewhere, and I want to find it. How I'll do that I don't know, exactly, but I'll figure it out."

"Brilliant." Adrien gave her another admiring glance before turning his attention back to her list. Marinette was a lot like Ladybug, really. She noticed details that no one else did, and could pick out when things were even a little out of place. It was a talent for sure, and one that Adrien honestly wished he had.

But he didn't, so he would have to content himself with helping out the most fantastic girls in his life in whatever ways he could.

Which, at the moment, could very well be using his connections.

"I actually have Prince Ali's contact information," Adrien commented as he noticed one specific bullet point on the list. Lila had told several stories about being in contact with Prince Ali and organizing charities and events with him. Connections with an actual prince was a undeniable attention-getter, so her fascination with him was no real surprise. "We've not been in contact that often, but my father had him and his assistant over while they were in Paris. There was an idea that there might be some collaboration or publicity with Gabriel that fell through, but, well..." Adrien shrugged, bashful. "Neither of us had that many friends at that time, so we exchanged numbers. I can text him and ask about Lila's claims and if he has any suggestions for sites to look at to back up his claims." He flashed a smile at Marinette. "Because I bet we don't just want word-of-mouth, right? Since emails can be modified or faked."

Marinette looked thrilled. "Right! And I'm so glad you have a way to contact Prince Ali, because I figured- well, I figured that those lies would be the most difficult ones to disprove, since Achu seems to keep him fairly sheltered from the media and not that much information about his life gets out."

"They do, but I'm pretty sure that Prince Ali does have some official pages with information on his projects." Adrien pulled out his phone, shooting a quick text to Prince Ali before tucking it back in his pocket and turning his full attention back to Marinette. He had the better part of an hour left before the Gorilla would come looking for him, and he wanted to use that time to help Marinette as much as he could. "Okay. What else do you have on your list?"

  Things were coming together faster than Marinette had expected, she had to admit. Only days after she started collecting evidence, her parents' last lingering doubts about the validity of any of the claims against her had vanished, they had told Madam Chamack and she was preparing a story to break once Marinette said the word, and on top of that, they now had a lawyer who had listened to Marinette's detailing of everything that had happened at school. They were preparing a lawsuit against the school, because absolutely none of the required procedures for expulsion had been followed.

Like, literally none. The accusations had been flimsy and all coming from one other student, and they hadn't been investigated at all. There had been no consideration of how likely the accusations were given Marinette's stellar history, and no calling in Lila's mother to discuss the accusations. There was absolutely no sense of any procedure being followed, and considering how much behavior from Chloe the school had let slide before, well...

The favoritism there was astounding, and they couldn't let it stand.

Marinette smiled at the reminder of that meeting as she navigated her way though her online school's portal. It was really nice to have so much support from adults, after months and months and months at school where people hadn't listened to her about Lila, hadn't done anything about Chloe, had told her that really, it isn't as big of a problem as you're making it out to be.

It was a big problem, and people weren't addressing it correctly, and that was going to be fixed. It was unfortunate that it had gotten to the point where lawsuits had to get involved, but things couldn't just be allowed to continue as they were.

And this time, it wasn't entirely up to Marinette to end it. The adults would take care of all of the legal stuff, and if Marinette decided that she was tired of dealing with the situation entirely, then that didn't mean that Lila would get away with things.

Which was nice to know, even if Marinette had no intention of excusing herself from the whole thing. Lila had made life exceedingly difficult for Marinette; now, Marinette wanted to look Lila in the eye while grinding all of her lies into the ground.

...maybe she shouldn't be so focused on revenge when she was a superhero, but honestly, Lila had it coming.

Smiling to herself, Marinette clicked a couple few more times before reaching her target page. It loaded quickly, the title of her class and her current unit at the top of the page, with a little bar below it showing where she was compared to where she was meant to be.

Marinette had started slightly behind schedule- Dupont had apparently fallen behind the national standards schedule, probably because of akuma attacks interrupting their days- and now she had caught up in most subjects and already had started edging ahead in a couple classes, including this particular one.

Civics. Unit: Foreign Relations

Unit project: Create a product- a poster, a paper, or a film- on a country of your choice, documenting their relationship with France, current and historical. Exact requirements, due dates, and minimum lengths detailed below.

It wasn't a mistake that Marinette had pushed herself to get ahead in this particular class. She had looked ahead and seen this particular project coming up and, well, filming some interviews at the Italian Embassy sounded like it would fit the bill perfectly.

"Do you really think that that's necessary at this point, Marinette?" Tikki asked from where she was perched on Marinette's sewing machine. "I mean, you have enough evidence to prove that Lila has hardly been truthful and shouldn't be trusted, and even if she tries to wriggle her way out of it, it's not going to work. Not with a truancy officer alerted and on her trail. Once an accusation has been filed, they will investigate it until they're satisfied. It's going to take more than a couple fake tears and excuses for them to drop it."

"Honestly, this bit is mostly because I'm still curious." Marinette sat back in her chair, scanning over the project guidelines. "Like, I know that Lila needed a backstory that would make it plausible that she could have met a bunch of famous people and be traveling all of the time, but why the Italian Embassy? Was that picture really of her mom? I just- I want to nose around a little. Besides, more evidence is always a good thing, and it doubles as a school assignment, too!"

"A school assignment that isn't due for weeks," Tikki pointed out. "You know what your mom told you, about not burning yourself out by overworking!"

Marinette shrugged, even as she made a few notes about things that she would have to do before filming- looking up some basic history about France-Italian relations, reaching out to a couple ambassadors to see if she could interview them, and seeing if she could check out some decent video camera and microphone equipment from the library were on the top of her list, along with coming up with questions that would hit all of the needed points plus a couple extra. "I mean, I think I'll be fine, especially because, well, I don't think I'm going to get invited to any get-togethers with the girls this week. Alya seemed pretty ticked with me when she left yesterday. So I'll have a lot of free time, probably."

Tikki made a face at that. "I suppose. But you still have Adrien coming over every day! It's not like you aren't speaking to any of your old classmates."

Marinette ducked her head, unable to hide her smile. Adrien had been spending a lot of time with her, and every afternoon they spent together made it that much easier for her to speak to him and see the time as hanging out as friends, not as a potential lead-up to a date. She could enjoy their time together fully, instead of being strung out and on edge.

It didn't take long for Marinette to get fully back into her schoolwork, continuing her slow edging forward ahead of the schedule. Despite her kwami's (and her mother's) worries, she really wasn't overworking herself. Pushing herself, maybe, but really, all Marinette was doing was putting her best foot forward and going at her own pace. It was just that her own pace was fast.

It was just that in class, they always had to slow down when someone didn't understand what was going on, which- well, in some classes, it could be pretty often. Then there were disruptions from people asking questions (or making comments about the famous people they had "met" that were somehow meant to be relevant to whatever they were doing) or having arguments, and the time spent handing out and collecting papers. There were breaks between classes, and even some classes where they ended up with extra, wasted time at the end of their class when they finished something early and didn't have enough time to start something new. That added up to a lot of time, it turned out, and with someone who was properly motivated, getting ahead in classes was a piece of cake.

Marinette was properly motivated. So motivated, in fact, that she completely missed Adrien calling her name from downstairs before coming up into her room, hair in disarray with sweat after his fencing lesson and backpack slung haphazardly over his shoulder.

"That doesn't look familiar. You must have passed us, then."

Marinette yelped, startling and whipping around. Adrien just looked amused at her reaction, pulling up his usual chair next to her. "Am I right?"

"Yeah, I'm working ahead," Marinette admitted, glancing back at her screen. "It gives me something to do. And when the curriculum was made, I think they factored in some interruptions during class, and I don't really have that. I mean, we had a meeting with a lawyer today, but that was kind of over lunch anyway so I didn't fall behind."

Adrien blinked, puzzled. "A lawyer?"

"My mom was talking to Madam Chamack, because they're friends, and she said that it would be the best idea," Marinette told him. "It'll get my expulsion cleared for sure, and will address some of the ongoing problems at the school."

A flash of uncertainty crossed Adrien's face and he started worrying at his lip. "So Ms. Bustier and Mr. Damocles will be getting in trouble, too, not just Lila?"

She had suspected that Adrien might have trouble with that. Marinette had too, because she had known Ms. Bustier for years now and for the most part, had enjoyed her as a teacher. But, well, it was impossible to ignore all of the serious missteps that Ms. Bustier had made. "Yeah. But if it was just Lila getting in trouble, then what happens down the road if another liar shows up, or just another bully in general, and they just keep doing the same thing where there aren't any punishments? I could handle it, but I couldn't always, and, well..."

"And not everyone is as resilient and brave as you," Adrien finished, the uncertainly on his face starting to ebb away. "And not everyone is as willing as you to stand up and fight, or help classmates. I know if it was me that Lila had targeted, I- well, I might try protesting, but I don't think it would go very far. I would end up homeschooled again for sure, and never get to go back to public school again."

"I think the rest of us would protest, and I would definitely go after Lila just like I am now," Marinette assured him. "But for kids in the future who might not have that- well, I don't want injustice to go unchecked. I'm not going to be surprised if someone gets akumatized over this, but better one or two people now than a whole slew of people in the future."

Adrien nodded, letting out a slow breath. "Yeah. Yeah, I can understand that. It makes sense, I was just surprised." He worried his lip, then perked up. "Oh, I meant to tell you right away- I think that Madam Mendeleev has caught on that Lila isn't telling the truth, because she isn't being as lenient with Lila as she used to be. She's not giving any accommodations whenever Lila tries to claim that she needs them because of some condition or another, and she's told Lila off about story time in her classroom."

Marinette giggled. "Oh, I would love to see that. I bet Lila is pretty mad about that."

"She's whined plenty, but I don't think that it's going to do much. Not if she doesn't have a doctor's note to back all of her 'conditions' up, and not when Madam Mendeleev has actually had students with some of the conditions that Lila has claimed before." Adrien grinned. "The look on Lila's face at that- oh, you should have been there. Al- some of the other classmates were scandalized that she was questioning a medical condition, and there was a whole thing- actually, I can see how you're getting so far ahead of us," Adrien interrupted himself with a snort. "Ten minutes of class, gone, just because of, uh, people pulling up sources on accommodating disabilities and trying to talk over Madam Mendeleev until they got sent to the office."

"Why do I get the feeling that you were referring to Alya?" Marinette asked with a sigh and a roll of her eyes. "Now she decides to go for her sources. She won't even entertain the idea of looking up sources for Lila's claims or for some of the stuff she posts on the Ladyblog, but the moment that someone questions Lila..."

Adrien quirked an eyebrow at her. "Should- should I ask?"

"Alya came over yesterday to update me on her 'investigation' and I commented on the fact that she wasn't even looking at Lila as a possibility even though she was the one leveling all of the accusations, and she got really ticked at me," Marinette told him. "She said something about making accusations without any evidence and being obsessed with Lila and then stormed out."

Adrien spluttered. "She- you- she accused you of making accusations without evidence? But you have a literal pile of evidence right over there- it's not hidden or anything! Like, it's super-obvious! How did she miss that?"

Marinette could only shrug. "You know Alya. When she gets focused on one thing, she just turns oblivious to everything else."

"That's frustrating." Adrien reached over to squeeze her hand comfortingly, flashing her a small smile. "I'm sure she'll be kicking herself once everything comes out."

"Yeah, especially because of the latest interview I got." Marinette reached forward, picking up the flash drive sitting next to her computer and waving it at him. "I got a brief interview with Ladybug, and she confirmed that the first time she heard of Lila was when she saw the video on the Ladyblog, and that she saw Lila throw away your father's book, and that she was in Paris on Heroes' Day, and that she's maliciously interfered with akuma battles before."

"Ooh, nice," Adrien said appreciatively. "That must have been hard to get, but that'll be good. And also a good way to point out to Alya that she literally didn't check anything."

Marinette could only smile. Actually, once she had gotten things set up, it had been quite easy to get the video. All she had really needed to do was record herself asking the questions, pitching her voice a little higher than usual, and then play them back while Ladybug answered the questions, doing her best to make it sound like she hadn't practiced already and pitching her voice slightly downwards.

The Miraculous would protect her identity no matter what, but there was no point in risking someone noticing that her voice and Ladybug's were incredibly similar.

"Are you almost done with evidence-collecting, do you think?" Adrien asked Marinette, giving the flash drive one last look before turning his attention to Marinette. "I mean, the sooner you break the news, the sooner you can come back."

Marinette winced. This was the news that she hadn't been looking forward to breaking. "Actually, I, uh..."

Adrien practically wilted. "You're not coming back?"

"My parents are really furious at the school," Marinette admitted. "We've been talking a lot, and I maybe hadn't told them everything that had been happening at school over the past few years with bullying and discipline, and- well, they said that unless there were significant changes, they don't want me going back. I'll be rejoining everyone in lycée," she added quickly before Adrien slouched straight off of his chair. "Which isn't that far off, really, in the grand scheme of things. And I can hang out with the class whenever, and if you want to come over like you are now, or over lunch..."

"So it's not like we won't be seeing you at all," Adrien finished, scooting closer to her. "I was worried about that."

Marinette flashed a smile at him. She was going to miss hanging out with people between classes, but sacrifices had to be made if she wanted to fully capitalize on her temporary homeschooling and it wouldn't be forever. "Right. I'll be right across the street, available to hang out. It's not the end of the word."

"And it gives me a reason to look forward to lycée," Adrien added on. He glanced at her computer screen, which still had her online school portal up. "And I was right, wasn't I? About you being ahead of Dupont now?"

"It wasn't hard," Marinette admitted. "You guys are behind, and when I work at my own speed, I can cover more than a day's work. So that's another reason it wouldn't really make sense for me to go back, because I'll be so far ahead. And it's probably going to be another week at least, because all of the legal stuff takes some time to put together and file."

Adrien nodded, still looking a bit let down. Clearly he had been hoping that Marinette would be returning to school soon, and as much as that made Marinette's heart race, she couldn't change her plans. "Right."

"But enough depressing stuff," Marinette decided, shutting her notebook and closing the school website before grinning up at Adrien. "Wanna play Mecha Strike?"

"That sounds perfect."

  Marinette headed up the steps of the Italian Embassy, a spring in her steps. It hadn't taken long to set up an appointment to interview an ambassador and a couple other staff members at the embassy, and they were more than willing to spend a few minutes with her. She had promised not to take up too much of their time- after all, they had important work to do- and now she was arriving early, just to make sure that something like a delayed bus wouldn't make her late.

Not that she would have allowed a delayed bus to make her late. After all, Ladybug could cross Paris faster than any bus could, so if it had come to that, she would have just transformed and raced across the rooftops. It wouldn't be ideal- she didn't want Chat Noir to see her out and about and interrupt his school day because he thought that there was an akuma- but the option was still there.

"So I'm meeting with Ambassador Bianchi in ten minutes and Monsieur Moretti after that," Marinette told Tikki as she mounted the last few steps and headed for the door. "I tested all of the equipment last night, so that I know how it works and that it works. I checked to make sure that all of my previous footage was off, so I have plenty of space. Tikki, am I forgetting anything?"

"No, I don't think so!" Tikki chirped, sticking her head out of Marinette's purse briefly before vanishing back inside. "You're all set, Marinette!"

Giving a determined nod, Marinette pulled open the door, stepping inside the embassy. A cheerful lady at the welcome desk gave her directions to the ambassador's office, and Marinette strode as confidently as she could down the hallway and up the stairs to the second floor. There were more than a couple people wandering down the halls chatting in Italian, and Marinette caught flashes of conversations as she passed them.

It wasn't hard to find the ambassador's office- the embassy had good signage, she would give them that- and Marinette stepped in the open door, coming to a stop in front of Ambassador Bianchi's secretary's desk, where a oddly familiar woman sat.

Lila's mother. And it definitely was Lila's mother because behind her, pinned to a very full corkboard, was a picture of Lila and her mom together with an older couple.

Well. Maybe Lila had been lying about her mother being an ambassador or in any sort of top diplomatic position, but she was at least at the Italian Embassy.

"Ah, you must be Ambassador Bianchi's eleven o'clock appointment," Mrs. Rossi said, giving Marinette a friendly smile. "She said something about a student project?"

"Yes, I'm on my Foreign Relations unit right now and we're supposed to do a project on France's relationship with another country. My Nonna is Italian, so..." Marinette shrugged. It wasn't an entire lie. Even if Lila hadn't been in the picture, Marinette probably would have picked Italy to research. That, or China. "I decided to learn a bit more about the country that side of the family is from."

"How lovely!" Mrs. Rossi exclaimed. She smiled at Marinette. "Now, if you want to take a seat over there to wait, the ambassador will be about five minutes."

"Okay," Marinette said automatically, then paused. Maybe she already had all of the evidence she needed to get Lila in very deep trouble, but she couldn't deny that she was really curious about Lila's mom and what exactly was going on there. "Or, actually- if you're busy or don't want to, that's fine, but could I maybe interview you about what you do at the embassy as well?"

Mrs. Rossi perked up. "Oh, I think I can spare a few minutes for that! I never really get asked about what I do," she confided as Marinette quickly pulled out her camera and attached the microphone to it. "Which I can understand, because everybody always talks about the ambassadors and the ministers and they get the spotlight, but there's plenty of staff behind the scene who make the entire place run smoothly. There's a lot of work involved- I work overtime most days, but that's also because I'm still getting used to this job."

Marinette nodded as she checked both mic and camera to make sure that they were running. "When I was reading up on what an embassy does, it certainly sounded complicated! It's not a huge surprise that there are people behind the scenes making sure that everything gets done."

"It might surprise you how many people that information does surprise." Mrs. Rossi considered Marinette again, pausing. Marinette tried to not stiffen up. Had Mrs. Rossi realized who she was? "Forgive me for prying, but I'm curious- shouldn't you be at school right now? Did they give you a pass so that you could do the interviews?"

Marinette shook her head, feeling herself starting to relax. Maybe Lila had decided that her mom might be suspicious or decide to move her to another school if she reported any problems- real or imaginary- to her and so hadn't mentioned Marinette at all. "I'm being homeschooled at the moment- or, rather, I'm enrolled in an online school for the rest of collège."

"Oh, that's quite nice," Mrs. Rossi commented, perking up. "And smart, considering the akuma attacks here in Paris! My daughter's collège was closed for several months because of akuma attacks there- or maybe it was just one akuma who was taking forever to defeat, I don't remember- and I do worry about how that's going to impact her education. I'd have her switch schools, but I worry that other schools would have the same problem and the one she's at is quite highly rated." She sighed. "And Lila seems to have made quite a few friends there, and she's gotten a boyfriend, so I don't want to make her switch and I hadn't had the time to look into other options anyway."

...okay, this was interesting. It also answered the question of how Lila's mom hadn't noticed her skipping school for months on end, but Marinette was really wondering how busy Mrs. Rossi was if she hadn't even looked into Lila's claims. One simple Google search, and she would have found out that no such long-term akuma existed.

She also had questions about the boyfriend claim. Something told Marinette that Lila had probably claimed that she was dating Adrien, who was likely to be less than happy about that claim.

"Huh, I hadn't heard any news about any collèges being closed because of akuma," Marinette said instead of questioning anything, shrugging one shoulder. "Odd. But getting back on track..." She made a show of getting the camera properly lined up, then peered over the top. "Can you tell me what you do here at the embassy?"

  Marinette was prepared.

Over the past couple of weeks, with Adrien's help and a bit of an assist from her family's lawyer, she had debunked pretty much all of Lila's lies. She had printed out pages of evidence and compiled video clips from the interviews she had done on flash drives. The lawsuits- both against the school and against Lila specifically- had just been filed, and Madam Chamack would be breaking the story that morning, while Marinette went in to confront Ms. Bustier and Lila.

Everything was ready, all of her evidence packed into her bag the previous evening, and Marinette was doing breathing exercises while waiting to head into the school. Her family's lawyer, several members of the school board, a substitute teacher, and a truancy officer were all waiting downstairs in the bakery, and would be accompanying her over.

A ding from her phone caught Marinette's attention, and she pulled it out of her purse. On-screen, there was a message from Adrien.

Looking forward to seeing you! You'll do great :)

Smiling, Marinette tapped out a quick reply before sending it and heading downstairs. Nerves were really building in her stomach now, but she pushed them back down. She had faced akumas and supervillains before. This would be a piece of cake.

"The bell has rung," Madam Rochefort commented, glancing up from her tablet. "Let's head over in five, to give people time to settle down."

Ms. Boutin flashed a grin at Madam Rochefort. "It's so odd, seeing you deliberately planning to make a scene during classes. Normally you're all about pulling teachers aside before or after school."

"They decided to make the accusations and expulsion a public spectacle, so I'm not going to grant them the privilege of resolving their problems in private." Madam Rochefort smiled at Marinette. "And I certainly couldn't deny Miss Dupain-Cheng here the satisfaction of throwing all of her evidence in her class's face."

Marinette smiled at that. She had been a little worried with all of the officials that had gotten involved that she wouldn't be able to carry out her (admittedly somewhat petty) plan, but they had been willing to accommodate her.

Five minutes later, they were marching over to the school. Ms. Boutin knocked on the large doors sharply, then stepped back to wait for an answer. Seconds later, Mr. Haprèle opened the doors, annoyed look giving way to confusion.

"Good morning, we're from the school board," Madam Rochefort announced, ushering Marinette in ahead of her and flashing her ID at . "We've come to speak to a couple of the teachers and your principal."

Mr. Haprèle nodded, stepping to the side to let them in even as the confused look stayed on his face. Marinette led the way up to Ms. Bustier's classroom, excitement mounting in every step.

She could do this. Everything was labeled so there was no chance of her messing anything up. There was no need to go into detail for anything if she didn't want to. For once, other people could exert some actual effort and look at the evidence she had helpfully gathered for them instead of her having to explain each and every piece.

"Go get 'em," Ms. Boutin told Marinette, patting her arm. "And we're right here, waiting for our cue. They won't be able to ignore you this time."

Nodding, Marinette put on her Ladybug face, then turned towards the door. With one last deep breath, she shoved open the door, sending it flying open and drawing every student's eye to her as she strode into the classroom, confidence in every step.

"Marinette!" Ms. Bustier exclaimed, rising from her desk at the front. There was a frown on her face. "What are you doing here? You've been expelled, you're not allowed on school property, especially during school hours-"

Marinette's fierce expression cut her off. "Actually, I'm here to contest my expulsion. I think you'll find that none of the requirements for expulsion were even met. Additionally-" Marinette started digging in her bag, a frown flashing across her face as she realized that it might be a bit difficult to pull things out of her bag.

"I can hold your bag, Marinette!" Adrien offered at once, sliding out of his seat and coming up front to join her, taking her bag and flashing her an encouraging smile. You've got this.

"Thank you, Adrien." Marinette returned his smile, then returned to her earlier intensity. "As I was saying- no procedure was followed. The decision to expel me was entirely based on claims made by a lying, thieving, completely untrustworthy liar."

Lila gasped theatrically from her seat, which- surprise, surprise- was now next to Alya, in Marinette's old spot. "You're still trying to call me a liar? Just because you're jealous-"

Marinette cut her off, pulling the first stack of packets out of her bag while staring Lila down. "Evidence that Lila was lying about saving Jagged Stone's cat and knowing him at all. Almost all of which is public information, if anyone had bothered to look." She slammed the first packet down on Ms. Bustier's desk. "That she was lying about knowing Prince Ali." Another slam. "And that literally all of her supposed involvement in charity work and other organizations is a lie, as are all of the other connections that she claimed to have and that I'm not even going to dignify naming."

This slam was even louder. There were several flinches around the room. Lila was starting to look a little less confident, her eyes darting towards Ms. Bustier.

"And, most importantly." Marinette's eyes flashed back to Ms. Bustier, who was looking very taken aback. "Which the teachers here really should have looked into properly, instead of just blindly believing Lila. She was lying about being out of Paris at all and was using posters as her background when she called us, which should have been obvious to anyone with eyes, because there were exactly zero pedestrians or cars behind her. I found all of the posters she used with a very simple reverse photo search."

There were gasps at that, and Ms. Bustier pressed a hand to her chest, looking over at Lila.

"Additionally, as if the posters weren't enough, I have interviews with both Ladybug and Mrs. Rossi that confirm that Lila was in Paris for the entirety of the time that she claimed to be traveling." Marinette reached in the bag one more time, pulling out her flash drive. Lila had gone pale at that, and oh, it was so satisfying. "Those were both very interesting, actually. Ladybug told me that the first time she had ever heard of Lila was when she saw the Ladyblog video where Lila was claiming to be her best friend, and that Lila has hated her for calling her out of the lies. Additionally, Lila has deliberately gotten in the way of the superheroes during akuma battles in order to sabotage them, and she was in Paris on Heroes' Day as Volpina, who made the illusions of Ladybug and Chat Noir fighting."

There were gasps at that. Marinette was not done.

"And on top of that, Ladybug saw Lila throwing a book into the trash- a book that Lila stole from Adrien." Marinette's eyes narrowed at Lila, whose mouth was opening and closing wordlessly. "Because she had gotten what she wanted out of it, also known as the fake Fox Miraculous that she had just bought from a Gabriel shop."

"Which, I might add, she tried to pass off as the real Fox Miraculous right away," Adrien chimed in from next to her. "And that necklace was the same one that she said was from her grandmother and she claimed that Marinette stole."

"And, if that isn't enough, Mrs. Rossi thought that Lila was staying home because the school was closed due to an extended akuma attack," Marinette finished, a smirk flashing across her face at the look of pure panic that flashed across Lila's face. Clearly she had thought that Marinette was bluffing about meeting her mother."Because Lila told her that the principal was akumatized and therefore the school was closed." Against her better judgment, Marinette's eyes flashed towards Alya for a moment. "How's that for research and evidence, hmmm?"

"I- no-" Lila attempted, clearly scrambling to pull herself together. "That is- a misrepresentation of what- Marinette is just making things up, she's just jealous and bitter that I didn't let her bully me-"

"I have video evidence, Lila," Marinette told her, using her best cold, no-nonsense, I-am-a-superhero-and-you-WILL-listen-to-me voice. She could see several people shrink back, intimidated. "And an entire pile of evidence to disprove your other lies. And..." She reached into her bag for her final folder, opening it up and pulling out another packet before striding over to Lila and slapping it down on the desk in front of her. "A lawsuit against you, for slander with malicious intent."

"But Lila can't get in trouble with the law," Max protested from the back of the room. "She has diplomatic immunity because of her mother."

Marinette smirked at that. Lila was really wilting now. "Top diplomats might get diplomatic immunity for their families, sure. But the secretary for the ambassador certainly doesn't get immunity for her family."

There were gasps at that.

"Additionally, diplomatic immunity can be waived by the family member or the home country even if it did apply," Mr. Bernard announced, stepping into the classroom. "Which we have seen before, and if it had applied in this case, I'm sure we would see it again."

"Who are you?" Ms. Bustier asked, stepping forward. "This all seems like a lot of disruption, we are a school-"

"I am a truancy officer, and Ms. Rossi here is in quite a bit of trouble. Skipping multiple months of school is definitely grounds for punishment, particularly when I suspect that she forged her mother's signature on the school leave forms." Mr. Bernard flashed a doubtful look at Ms. Bustier. "If, of course, there was even an attempt at following procedure in that case."

Ms. Bustier flushed. "We- we were told it was a very last-minute trip, and that Mrs. Rossi was quite busy, and we wanted to be accommodating, so we waited until after the return to really push for ..."

"Procedure is not optional. It is there for a reason, to keep things like this from happening." Mr. Bernard did not look impressed, but he jerked his chin at Lila. "Ms. Rossi. Your mother has been contacted and is on her way. Collect your things at once."

Lila glanced around frantically, rather like a cornered rabbit, but all of her classmates were glaring at her. Slowly, she gathered up her things, picking up the lawsuit notice last, and then headed out after Mr. Bernard, dragging her feet the entire way.

There was a pause.

"It- well, it seems as though I owe you an apology, Marinette," Ms. Bustier finally said, sinking back into her seat. "I should have looked into things more thoroughly instead of letting them slide. I'll get your expulsion wiped off of your record at once, and you can return right away."

"Actually, I won't be returning to Francois-Dupont," Marinette informed her, ignoring the gasps from the class in favor of fishing out the last of her forms and setting it on Ms. Bustier's desk. "My parents don't think that the environment here is conducive to my learning experience, and they don't trust that there will be enough change in the remainder of the year to satisfy them."

Ms. Bustier reached across the desk for the form at once, her eyes going wide as she took in the top page. It was another lawsuit, this one against the school for not following proper procedure for expulsion and for failing to protect their students from a bully.

Marinette had been a little unsure about the last bit, but the school board had pointed out that, had any of the teachers looked into things, Mr. Bourgeois didn't actually have the power to punish the school for properly disciplining Chloe, and even if they couldn't be bothered to look that much up, they at the very least could have separated Chloe and Marinette into different homerooms instead of placing them together for so many years in a row. It wouldn't have been possible to place them in different classrooms every year- after all, Chloe bullied everyone- but getting a break every other year shouldn't have been too much to expect.

Having adults standing up to Chloe instead of leaving students to do that themselves shouldn't have been too much to expect, either.

"I'll be rejoining the class for lycée, but not before," Marinette added, because she could hear Rose starting to sniffle. "And I can hang out with you guys whenever, but my parents aren't at all happy with the administration here."

Rose managed a small smile when Marinette glanced her way, nodding in understanding.

"Speaking of people being unhappy with the administration, we need to speak to you, Ms. Bustier," Madam Rochefort announced, sticking her head through the door. She stepped aside to let the substitute teacher who they had brought in. "We'll go to Mr. Damocles' office, if you could."

Ms. Bustier nodded, even paler as she followed Madam Rochefort out. Marinette took that as her cue to leave as well, tucking her empty folder back into her bag and taking it back from Adrien. He was smiling at her, proud and a little sad at the same time.

"We'll miss seeing you during class," Adrien murmured in her ear as he slid Marinette's bag over her head, arranging it at her side before pressing a quick kiss to the side of her head. "But I know I'll visit as often as I can. For both the company and the food."

"Our door is always open for you," Marinette promised, trying not to flush and probably failing. Adrien was too cute for her blood pressure sometimes. "And you have my number, too. If you want to come over during lunch, too, you can."

Adrien perked up at that as he escorted her to the door. "I might end up never leaving if you keep inviting me over, just so you know."

Marinette giggled. As though she would actually ever complain about that. "We'll make up a bed for you."

"Very tempting." Adrien smiled at her, then glanced back into the classroom. The substitute teacher was looking back at him. "I have to go, but see you later?"

"Of course." With a final wave, Marinette stepped back, watching Adrien head back into the classroom before turning herself and heading back out of the school. She was by herself now, the school board members and lawyer and truancy officer all busy, but that didn't matter. She had done what she had come to school to do. The expulsion would be wiped from Marinette's record, and the faculty at Dupont would be given the help and training they needed to be far better teachers for the next set of students to come through and all of the students after them, too. On top of that, Lila had been taken down, her following gone and her reputation in shatters. With any luck, she would be removed from Paris entirely in order to keep her from getting akumatized again.

Hopefully her next set of teachers would be given a heads-up about Lila's tendency to make up stories so that no one else would have to go through the same thing that Marinette just had.

Humming to herself, Marinette paused at the crosswalk, waiting for the light to change. She had taken down one schoolyard bully and made life in Paris just that little bit better for everyone.

And now that that was over... well, now that she had more free time, she could turn her attention to a much bigger target. Hawkmoth had better beware, because before long, Ladybug was going to be on his case.

[taraneedspizza]

okay i need to get this out there or i’ll implode

so I have a headcanon that inko midoriya was a vigilante at some point but I haven’t thought about it much until now and i am LIVING RIGHT NOW

But first a quirk explanation

Inko Midoriya

Inko has a quirk that can float small things to her and we have no idea how many things she can pull to her at once or her range of how far the objects can be from her. We don’t know much about her youth or her relationship with her husband (hisashi midoriya) so a lot is left ambiguous regarding the time before the main story takes place

Mitsuki Bakugo

Mitsuki can sweat glycerin from all over her body. glycerin is used in lotions and can moisturize your skin (explains why mitsuki looks so damn gorgeous) and can treat burns. it tastes sweet and is odorless and colorless but is flammable and, when mixed with certain chemicals, can be explosive (glycerin is used to make dynamite). We don’t know how much mitsuki can produce but maybe with enough training she could sweat a lot of it but we can’t say for sure how much

Masaru Bakugo

Masaru can sweat flammable acid from his hands but he has to sweat it out normally from moving around and stuff. It’s similar to mina’s quirk but he can’t forcibly secrete it like she can. when masaru rubs his hands together he can make explosions, and since the acid is like mina’s this acid (I would assume) can melt things too

Hisashi Midoriya

and finally, Hisashi Midoriya can breathe fire. We have no idea of the amount or range of his ability so for the sake of this headcanon that he can shoot it about 20-30 feet (6-9 meters) and can control the amount he can shoot

And now with this quirk explanation out of the way, may i present...

 My Vigilante Headcanon 

The time frame of this headcanon would be when they are all teens/young adults, so before the events of the Vigilantes series. The four of them met in high school and instantly became best friends. For some reason they got along very well despite two of them being hot-headed an the other two being more gentle, but the dynamic worked. 

One day they were hanging out and they along with some other civilians were taken hostage by some villains. all of them were bound but masaru was able to melt the zip ties around his and inko’s wrists and inko was able to discretely float a small pocket knife from one of the villains to her and freed the rest of the prisoners. Mitsuki then secreted some glycerin and threw it at the villains’ faces, (it tastes sweet, yes this is important) hisashi blew fire in their faces and knocked them out via explosion (it wasn’t that much glycerin). inko floated their weapons to her and armed all of the captives.

They fought similarly all the way out of the building they were being held in and bust out of the door just as heroes arrived on the scene. The heroes were shocked to say the least, that a couple of civilians were able to get themselves out of such a dangerous situation. They offered to have them go to a hero academy and train, but they were already almost done with school so they wouldn’t be able to. 

Later, the four realized they liked fighting for the sake of others and, mostly expressed by hisashi and mitsuki, punching jerks in the face who deserved it. They couldn’t go to a hero school since they were about to graduate so they decided to take self defense and martial arts classes, learning how to use different weapons and how to take an opponent down with just your fists. They trained their quirks in private, extending their range and overall strength of their quirks. The four of them also studied hero laws and how to work around loopholes in the laws so they wouldn’t get caught being vigilantes. (In the My Hero world, a vigilante is a civilian who uses their quirk to do hero work without a license. Basically a hero without proper paperwork or training)

By the time they were all twenty years old, they had come to the skill level of high ranking sidekicks of the top 10 pro heroes. 

Their “hero” names were reflective of both their quirks and hero gear (made for them by some dear friends of theirs who would later be the parents of Mei Hatsume) 

Inko Midoriya- Codename: Green Monarch (after he ability to make things “float like a butterfly” and her black flight suit with green monarch butterfly wings)

Mitsuki Bakugo- Codename: Sweet (after the sweet taste of her glycerin sweat and bittersweet attitude)

Masaru Bakugo- Codename: Sour (after the acid he sweats from his hands and a reference to malic acid that makes things like warhead candy sour. also cute couple names)

Hisashi Midoriya- Codename: Dragon (after his ability to breathe fire and his flight suit wings looking like dragon wings)

(ah, an unnecessary detail of their costumes and how they identified each other in a fight but hey i like details so shush) 

 Mitsuki had openings in her suit similar in concept to Aoyama in her hero costume that allowed her to collect and concentrate the glycerin so she could actively shoot it at people. Masaru had something similar but for his hands and both had weapons they could coat in their sweat to get more range. Hisashi had an extra addition to his mask that helped to concentrate his flame so that it went only in the direction he wanted. Inko had an addition to their night vision goggles/eyewear that allowed her to see in incredible detail what objects she could float and where they were located. All of them had various weapons on their person

All of them had flight suits that were color coded that would glow and adjusted to their quirks. They each had a symbol on their costume that depicted a dragon that referenced to their name(ish) 

Inko had a green fae dragon, Hisashi a red western dragon, Mitsuki had a purple amphithere, and Masaru had a yellow drake. The general symbol they shared was a four-headed multicolored hydra

The group specialized in stealth and sneak attacks by surrounding them, Inko disarming them, all of them weakening them via fisticuffs and flammable substances, and Hisashi with the finishing blow to knock them out. They would then leave the cleanup to the police but dip before they could arrive, using their wined suits to fly through the city from rooftop to rooftop. 

They never got caught but there were a few close calls. A few years later (when they were 23 judging by current ages and timeline) they decided to hang up their capes and settle down. With the rise in heroes and All Might’s influence, they didn’t need as many vigilantes running around. They had had their fun and they decided to start families of their own. And that is how it came to today.

I am beyond proud of how this came out, I’ve never fully fleshed out a headcanon like this before but I love it to death. I’ll be drawing their hero costumes soon so I’m excited for that! If anyone sees this and likes it, please feel free to input any ideas or additions to this!

Have a good day!

[blankdblank]

Brother Dearest Pt 36

Breakfast, nice and simple with an anxious glance from Norma over you all at the table in her borrowed dress. Admittedly divorced a few months retired and now her nerves were all over her face to how the two women she had befriended would take to her spending the night with Victor who was doing all he could to calm her down. Though the nail in the coffin to her worries came in a casual mid slice of some pancakes, “I think we might need a spare comforter for the puppies if they’re to sleep with us again. Blanket hogs the both of them.” James smirked knowing you had more than enough blankets to have woken under and his glance to his glass granted him a side eye view of Norma looking between you eased that even with the impression of having simply shared a building you already were practically married.

That did it and her nerves dipped away relenting to a hopefully understood silent agreement not to share bedroom habits. While you were off to class Eddie was off to work and Dawn to head out with the Brocks to shop granting Victor and Norma some time alone. Eddie took the subway so Victor could take her back in style and to a parting kiss a plan to have dinner again soon before her trot through the doors of the hotel with dress and coat from the night before in a borrowed bag. Victor was floating on air when he got back to meet his brother at the house for a joint walk of the dogs.

Both sharing their thoughts on the young woman, while happy to have spent an evening with the elder brother was still frightened of losing another wife. Teddy had come out of nowhere and had bolstered his hope that a child could survive around the brothers so used to dwelling with their everlasting pain. Another child was well on its way soon with more to follow for Dawn to build the Squishy brood. Neither could wait to see how many children James and you could be blessed with while Victor didn’t dare to dream Norma might pick him to settle down with against movie stars she would encounter. After all she had shared blips prior to meeting you for the films ‘Scudda Hoo! Scudda Hay!’ And ‘Ladies of the Chorus’ to be released the next year had led to a script being sent her way for another role in the film ‘Love Happy’ to be filmed late the next year and released the next in ’49. She certainly had several chances to find someone more interesting than him.

.

“Miss Pear,” the voice of your Art History Professor came up on your right and you flashed her a quick grin lowering your camera from eyeing a possible target for one of your yearbook duty assigned targets in the building competition you were tasked to document alongside Portia on her first column on the paper.

“Hello Professor,” you said stepping out of the way of another young woman hurrying to fetch a tool from along the wall.

Inching closer she said, “I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind my talking to you about your paper, if now isn’t a good time-,”

“Now is good, anything to keep me from rushing to save that fire hazard. Didn’t even oil the joints.” You said lowly gesturing to a project that you approached taking a picture of the young woman who smiled noticing your approach.

“Well, I suppose I should offer my apologies, I wasn’t aware that you came from such-,” her voice wandered off for a socially acceptable term.

Turning around you gracefully crouched, carefully keeping your news together that nearly tapped the floor, to take a picture of another young woman catching her teetering sculpture she managed to save stirring up a wave of murmurs from the packed bleachers of friends, relatives and onlookers. “Humble beginnings is how the papers always put it,” in rising again she looked you over as you said, “Much easier to sell papers than saying I’m the child of Irish Immigrants who couldn’t afford to eat before the war, humble beginnings give a more picket fence image.”

Her gaze dropped to the floor as you took another picture from the side view of all the stands. In looking up again she said, “Normally the girls taken on here are, well,”

“Rich,” she nodded at your glance her way, “Didn’t hurt my dad was taking classes here before he died. Managed to scrape up some funds for my schooling and the government was all to happy to say they’d helped me into an Ivy League education after I was written off as Prisoner of War for so long.”

That had her eyes on her and she asked, “They what?”

You glanced at her again, “My Brother Eddie grabbed me and helped me into a uniform when the hospital got under fire. They wrote me off as Prisoner when they didn’t find my body with the other nurses. Over a year later I get shot in the shoulder and promoted to E4 Medic and the Canadian Army goes into full whirl in the press bragging on the first female Medic now that I wasn’t dead. Patch is a tolerable gift instead of a flag and a coffin for an orphan with no one to bury it.”

“You were shot?” She managed to whisper at the crack of her voice.

“Three times, why I got my promotions and medals. Though I can’t work out if it was the skirt or the fact I was fifteen when I was sent there by them that I got the Medal of Honor.”

“I’d think someone who had been shot would have more, scars.”

“Good genes, mom’s first husband was brutal and a drunk. Cleaned up just fine to catch my daddy’s heart.”

That had her lips part and while you moved to take another picture you noticed your Latin Professor who had been trying to creep closer to catching a fling with your Art History Professor with a smirk on his face catching her averting glance from him at his try to keep the game up in this event. “Miss Pear, you have peeked my curiosity I just have to know what you and the lovely Professor here are speaking about.”

“My military career.”

That had his brows arch up a moment and he wet his lips moving with you allowing you a better angle in his place. “While on that topic, I am curious. I traveled through Italy in the war and I was curious as to why your platoon took the Southern paths past Palermo when the Eastern ones would have cut the time in half.”

“There are more brothels to the South.” His eyes shifted to her and hers to him sharing a glance above your head in shock for the candid answer. “Have to protect your Medic. And when they found out I wasn’t his little brother the Captain decided to choose the path with less of a chance of my brother killing the other guys.”

“What was it like?” She asked softly, “The brothels.”

“Like a hotel in most cases, some were in barns or bars. Women were nice once they were paid and treated nicely. All usually more curious about me and the guy picked to watch me than anything else. Just women making a tough time work. Most of them were around my age or even younger depending on where we were.”

He asked, “And did the guys pick the girls your age?”

“When I hit 19 sometimes. They tried to keep over 18 and if the girls were all too young they just paid for back rubs or for them to just have some funds for food and let us crash inside a night. Plus it wasn’t a safety issue for me after they found out someone my size could stop tanks and take out planes in air. No risking my trust then from them.”

She said, “Well I hope to see what you do here until you set up at house when you are married.”

That had you smirk at her and say, “You’ll be stuck with me a while it seems. My fiancé and our family is determined to see me a Doctor or with a PhD.”

She looked you over and asked, “Has your fiancé taken you to the museum yet for your report.”

“We’re going with Portia tomorrow.”

He asked, “How did you latch on as friends so quickly? I am curious, she seemed to be slow to making friends.”

“Met her brother overseas. Plus us misfits have to stick together. She was the only one first day not to flinch to a face when I said we live in Brooklyn.” In looking up at him you circled a finger around your face, “That’s the one.” After taking the final picture you said, “I gotta change my film before they call the contest. Excuse me,”

When you left their sides he moved closer, “I didn’t make a face.”

“You kinda did,” she said.

“She’s from Brooklyn?”

To the bathroom you went and in a peek under the stall doors at the feet you saw you said, “Hey if you don’t mind I have to change my film, I gotta switch off the lights a couple minutes.”

While you settled your bag on the counter you heard a disheartened voice reply, “Fine by me, gonna be here a while.”

To that you glanced at the door after settling everything out in proper order then walked to lock the door and shut the lights off. Softly she gasped with heartbeat calming to the sound of your heels crossing the floor again back to the counter and each sound of the process completed with ease until you walked back saying, “Bright lights.” Switching the lights back on and unlocking the door. Back to the counter you went asking at the next deflating exhale from her, “Do you need anything? Like a pad? Or I have a spare blouse and a sewing kit if you’ve torn or spilled something on yours.”

“The pad would be nice, thanks.”

“Sure,” You said opening your bag to find the pad you carried with you in situations like this for ladies without your skills to just make a plug to lay you between bathroom trips. Right into the stall beside hers you went crouching again to pass the box under the stall divider she accepted from you and opened in your step to the sink to finish putting the used roll of film away you would develop later over your weekend and by the time you were done out she came sheepishly walking to the sink to wash her hands seeing who had helped her.

“Thank you,”

“Not a problem.”

“Didn’t expect you though. I thought you hated me.”

That had your head turning curiously to catch her eye, “Why would I hate you?”

“Well you never really talk to anyone. At least not about anything but school work.”

“I don’t hate anyone here at school.”

“We only ever really see you talking to that pink Portia.”

Smirking at her you said, “Any time anyone came to talk to me with a smile or being friendly in my old schools it was to put me in some scheme or to get something from me. I wasn’t popular and if you want to know why I’ve seemed to avoid certain people ask some of the girls who represented for the clubs in enrollment day that tried to refuse flyers to Portia. I know what it’s like to be the butt of the joke, she’s a sweet girl who happens to not be from here, didn’t deserve to be fodder for anyone’s pettiness. If you would like to be friends just be prepared for a whole new world of awkward and opinions to put some of ‘the way things are’ on their ear.” You looked her over and said, “You might want to get some iron tablets, you might be anemic on your cycles. Can’t have the head of the volleyball team passing out mid game tomorrow. Pickle or something salty might help a bit.” You said passing her the bottle you had pulled from your bag she accepted in your smile, “Only five left in there. Should last you the week. I can stop at the drug store on the way home.” You said turning around leaving her alone in the bathroom to look over the bottle, from which she took out a tablet she took with a sip of water gathered from her cupped hand out of the faucet she turned on.

“Ah, thought we’d lost you there for a bit,” Professor Randolph said making you grin walking with him back to the gymnasium.

“Just changing my film.”

“You seem to be getting along with your Art History Professor, she is one tough cookie.”

“Well I wrote a paper that made her cry.”

“That’ll do it,” he said with a nod.

“Though I have a feeling if those two hook up we’ll all feel the brunt of it.” You whispered lowly making him chuckle.

“Oh that is nothing compared to some debacle that ended last year with the last Mythology Professor and the Nurse when the former died. Downright scandalous and they were determined to have a man this year.”

“Ah,” You said catching his meaning and glanced his way, “If you don’t mind my asking, is there a Mrs Randolph?”

That had him grinning your way, “There was, she is resting waiting to be rebodied and our sons are traveling here from Asgard. You’ll like them, they’re all my former height before I chose this form to not be too imposing upon the populace, and my youngest is one of our finest bakers. So proud, eldest six chose from the arts and spinners of tales.”

“Seven, good for you,”

“Oh that’s not even the largest brood, we are quite humble compared to the warriors who breed twice our numbers. But it will take a few years minimum to get here, minimum, plenty of time to ready for them.”

“And, um, where do they intend on going when they land here?”

Smirking at you he said, “Do you realize how frequently scientists discover new islands popping up from underwater volcanic eruptions? More often than you think.”

“No doubt even rarer if they pop up near New York.” You giggled out making him chuckle.

“They will choose a lovely plot of ocean and assemble the portals to travel with ease for those wishing to integrate.”

“Do they know how to live here?”

“Oh they will be taught. And should you ever find yourself in need of filling positions in a company of your own you will have the most loyal of staff to accompany you to greatness.” He said with a smile splitting from your side to take his place back in the bleachers while you smiled seeing Portia smiling wider at your return after her glance around for you.

Once at her side she said, “Filled your camera already? I feel a bit behind I’ve only filled four pages on notes so far,”

“Oh don’t be like that. All I have to do is press a button and aim the camera. Words are harder.” Leaning in you whispered into her ear with a grin spreading to her lips, “Plus I had to make sure that I had ample space for the fire that tinder box is brewing after those joints throw their fit.”

Her mouth opened in a hushed agreeing gasp, “I knew I wasn’t the only one seeing her miss that step, how can you forget the grease? Right up there with the foundation being even.”

Together you giggled shifting for a wider view of the contestants finishing up, “Though I am impressed on the thought of Becca adding that warm water bottle to the center of her moving tower.”

Portia’s head tilted with yours as you lifted your camera to snap the shift of one of the arms on the crab like base slicing through the bottle complete with gasp from the young woman and shriek from the other woman who got splashed that turned to glare at then console the near to tears eliminated contestant. “Wonder if that’s one of those French brand bottles, neighbor used to day hers was never lined right so mom brought her a thicker dime-store one that saw her through that winter and five after.”

“I thought they lasted longer than five years.”

“Oh no, she died.”

“Oh,” she said looking you over and asked, “A lot of your neighbors die?”

You glanced her way, “Not really, she caught pneumonia, in and out of sickness her final years after a bad bout of polio as a kid just tore her immune system apart.”

“Rest of them were from drink or the factories. Do you have a lot of neighbors? Back home?”

“Couple, but they don’t live for miles, we have acres between us. Had a hard winter before we came here lost a few from it. Lot of people still use wood stoves. Some of them suffocate from the back draft sometimes when they clog or give out.”

“The guys are just glad they gutted our place, couldn’t walk five feet without finding another code violation or fire hazard. You know they put the fuse box by the boiler.”

“They did not!” She said gawking at you, “How could they be so reckless?”

“Well only immigrants to go up in flames I guess was their consolation. Much safer and airtight now.”

“Well I can’t wait to see it tomorrow when we go to the museum and have tea after.”

“Yes, and our time out could give Vic and Norma a breakfast to themselves and Dawn too while we watch Teddy for her.” That had her smile out of eagerness to see your little world you had built here for yourself to get you through the hard days at school in this rough city.”

Claps and cheers came with the awards ceremony to your capturing each of those being given ribbons, trophies and a group photo afterwards. The smirk on your face captured by Portia in borrowing your camera a moment having seen James come in and up behind you, the picture to be added to the mix was him draped behind you watching over your shoulder as you wrote out some tips for the young woman whose hot water bottle contraption she’d requested from you to perfect on her own.

“I’d have guessed you’d have won with that design.” Making her grin creep out in accepting her notepad back.

“Could have, if the bottle didn’t split. Maybe I can get it right for the exhibit in the end of October for the Gold Bond contest.” She looked you over asking, “Are you competing in any contests?”

“No, heard of a mural sort of prize raffle for Kodak. Get a whole crate of film if you win. Might submit a sketch for that.”

“The prize is just film?”

James said, “They also use the mural for their public ad for Christmas.”

That made her smirk, “Have to think up something unique for the holiday theme.”

“Oh I’m sure you could think something up.” She said slipping away to your loving fiancé easing back to take your hand to guide you back to Portia’s side to collect your camera again so he could snap a picture of the pair of you smiling to grant you another blip in the yearbook instead of being blocked out by being behind the camera. With giggle filled comments you walked her out to her waiting car waving her off for the train ride home again.

“What are you thinking?” he hummed near your ear settling onto the bench beside you with arm easing behind your back.

“Think I might try a bear, and a moose for the sketch.”

“Sounds perfect. I’d buy a hundred cameras from that ad.”

“I just think animals might be a nice twist.”

You aren’t going to change my mind.”

Up around his neck however your arms eased for a kiss leading you upstairs for a much needed bout of cuddling to enjoy your afternoon off. Though in the arrival of a guest at the door he slipped out of the room leaving you to give the sketch a try. On the bottom left a bear rocking with front paws linked to his toes wearing a Santa hat, right behind its back is a pair of squirrels, one in a sweater, the other with a scarf around a squirrel snowman above nuts writing the words ‘Merry Christmas’, all underneath the moose head with from the antlers various shaped ornaments. Top left above the bear you wrote, ‘For those who ever wondered just who Santa sees.’ The final touches being the night sky underneath a full moon lighting the snowy landscape with just the faintest silhouette of a sled soaring behind a cloud.

(I’m not photoshop level edit savy. I use paint, just pretend it’s got trees in the background with santa’s sleigh in the sky in front of the moon and the rest of the moose is in the pretend card mural.)

Truly you’d put it off to the last minute and inside an envelope alongside the entry form once you’d signed the bottom corner of the image as required with a stamp added the envelope was addressed and to the post office you went to ensure it got out on time. Months in advance might seem a bit absurd to some, however for a brand like Kodak you guessed that there would be thousands of entries that would be sorted through. And you didn’t need a free years worth of film, you could no doubt afford it on your own, however you figured it might be nice. You’d only entered a couple spelling contests in school that never took you anywhere but a blurb in the same paper that Eddie now worked at, a copy of which was dug out of the records to hang ridiculously as one of the articles on famous people now beside the several stories copied for your own files all through the war and since then. 20 cents was your prize then and helped to buy the coin purse you were saving your run away fund inside that held the dime left over.

On each corner you smiled and waved to your neighbors who were curious to see you traveling alone anywhere but the church watched you slip your way past a mailman who held the door open for you with a kind thanks heading for the counter with two women curious to see you there. Both smiled and to the one on the left for simple postage you passed the large envelope she eyed reading the destination, “Writing to Kodak? As in the camera company?”

“They’re having a contest geared towards Christmas ads. You get some free film if you win. Haven’t been in a contest since that spelling bee against your Tina.”

That made her smile in adding the proper stamps using her stamper and ink pad and reaching for the receipt booklet to complete your purchase. “Oh I remember that. True work of art on the dance floor, but red as a radish having to speak in public.”

The other woman chuckled asking, “You aren’t entering any more contests?”

“Only other ones I’ve heard of was a cooking contest on who could come up with the best recipes for anything pumpkin last month, but can’t say I’ve ever had pumpkin let alone know what to do with one if we sold them here.” Making the pair chuckle. “Still working my way through the books James and Victor had up in Canada.”

The first woman accepted your coins and said, “Well I’m certain you’ll win.”

All you could do was thank the pair and smile on your way out again leaving them to their gossip exiting onto the street where you found Eddie across it smiling in noticing you were there to trot across it behind a passing car to get to your side. “Hey sis, what’re you doing in the post office?”

“Sending off that Kodak contest entrance form.”

“Oh that’s great, what’d you pick?”

“A bear, moose and some squirrels.” He chuckled at your own embarrassed giggle and glance away making him loop his arm behind your shoulders. “It’ll be unique at least. I have a duplicate sketch at home, if you wanted-,”

“Agh, no need. We’ll all see it when it’s posted in the papers that you won.”

Shaking your head you replied, “I hope that won’t be for my name if I do.”

“It won’t be, after all, you said it’s unique.”

“Plus I guess if they do pick mine it won’t be so back they’re choosing twelve, so they can just say it’s favoritism for one of them.”

“Oh trust me, Kodak wouldn’t pick anything but the best of the bunch for their big end of the year sales. You did think of a slogan?”

“’For those who ever wondered just who Santa sees,’ and I remembered to add the sleigh at least up top and the Merry Christmas too.”

“Good, love the slogan. Bet they never thought of that.”

“No clue how it ties to buying cameras.”

“Think of it as a where’s a camera when you need one moment that someone on the naughty list would come across.” Making you giggle again.

“Oh yes, now we’re pitching Kodaks to the naughty children and adults.”

“Only the naughty ones get to what the animals are up to. Any contenders for the slogan you chose against?”

“No thumbs required to believe.” That had him chuckle again, “But I thought it might be a bit tasteless against some of the veterans.”

In another chuckle he said, “I think more than some would get a kick out of it. A Kodak for the wounded warriors. They could market that no doubt. Already have a Medal of Honor donning soldier to be the face of the campaign.”

“Oh yes, truly rub it in for those who doubt I earned my medals.”

“You did and more so, and they can choke on some coal if they don’t like it and shit out a diamond for all I care.”

“Now that would be something to see. From Golden Goose to Diamond Shitting Non-Patriot.” Making him laugh again to your amused giggle.

“Exactly. Either way might get you in the papers again. Speaking of which, got a call this morning from American Home, the spreads we took are coming out next week.”

“Oh that should be interesting. No doubt people will be asking when we took them seeing Dawn’s figure is unquestionable she’s got a passenger on board,” widening is smile, “I do hope the reviews aren’t too terrible.”

“Oh they’ll love it, no doubt we’ll hear our wallpaper choices and china are flying off the shelves.”

“Already got a call about the china, they asked for the right to post a picture of us in their yearly magazine and share that they were our choice for china for the new home and our wedding set.”

“Oh that’s nice,”

That had you giggle again, “No telling what lengths what the wedding gown company will go to when they find out I ordered the dress not Dot.”

He chuckled lowly, “Well we did need some stealth to all this or they’d have had mocked up pictures for all the papers already.”

“I am glad she talked me into that. Still can’t believe even just ordering anything at all has our names in the papers. Even that flower pot from Alberta, come on, had a whole special on what I bought.”

“Well you have to admit they are glad that you chose some of their least popular items that flew off the shelves.”

“Well I can’t help it they were so brightly colored. Mom never got the bright pots, too expensive, plus the bees love the bright ones.” Deepening his grin even more remembering those weeks you spent just arranging the flower pots in the back courtyard and patio.

“We’ll just have to see if we can lure some bees out here for you.” Softly you chortled, “Even if we have to hang some fake crystal ones.”

“I think I’ll leave the yard to the girls for now out here and fight Vic for the garden in Canada.”

.

James with Teddy against his chest shouldered the diaper bag and walked with you out of the subway to the front of the MoMA where Portia was just pulling up. His eyes stealing glimpses of the same blue eyed Prince who had clearly snuck in to the Beserker lands again with another orange in his hand to see what you were up to. His eyes looked you over then to the boy who waved to him he returned the gesture to. “Truly I have not been gone long enough for you to have conceived and bourn a child.”

Smirking at him you said, “My nephew Teddy, Prince Loki.”

Turning his head he narrowed his eyes staring at the museum behind him asking, “Is Eli meeting you here?”

“No, have to write a paper on an exhibit here.”

“Hmm,” he said lifting a slice of the orange he popped between his lips to chew on. “Ah, the pink woman again.” he said in your smiling turn to greet Portia in her being set free.

“Be nice blue eyes,” you softly said earning a soft sigh from him in return at his guess for what he was to endure today at this odd place.

She smiled exiting the car to excitedly stroll with you to the entrance with notepad in hand matching yours to make notes on the exhibit you were choosing to choose from for this paper. From James’ pocket you brought out his wallet to pay for you and him after Portia insisted on paying for herself with her own coin purse. Teddy of course got in free and watched you put James’ wallet back sliding the change back along with it after your former issues with this same guy who didn’t like taking funds from women when there was a man present. “Paper currency, how primal.” Loki sighed luring out your grin guessing what he might say while he’s shadowing you today.

Into your arm her arm looped and through the front doors the guards opened and closed behind you. The action confusing the Asgardian wondering on her rank as to be so comfortable on touching a Queen so casually. Already Teddy was looking around along with Portia who listened to you share about blocked plaques that others were keeping her from inspecting along with details on the lobby that James added in on about the arches and architecture until you reached the stairs to the way to the proper exhibit as she said, “I think we start in the right place to get the notes done then we can browse around.”

“Sounds good. Plus it’s usually easier to bound around to avoid the crowds. Plus the tours always linger and are so loud.” Turning in a circle Loki took in the space and eyeing the direction you were going and the other options the flash of green over his body preceded his doubles strolling off in each open walkway with himself still holding the orange to follow your group.

Portia, “Well we can’t scare Teddy with loud crowds, no we can’t.” Flashing him a smile on his glance her way hearing his name he mirrored in a happy giggle at your own smile his way. Behind James and you Loki continuously stole glances at Teddy in his tries to inch up to stare at the Prince who randomly made faces at the boy luring out his giggles and faces that made the few strangers who caught them in passing laugh themselves and wave back.

Portrait by portrait you both strolled and to her amusement you were able to recite the tour information back word for word after sneaking into the tours as a child confirmed by the tour guide entering on your way out to the first exhibit they had just left. The words all soaked up by the Prince wondering if you had commissioned this collection of artwork to have known each detail about every one of them. None of them he preferred to his own taste but all of them showing hints to artwork his own people had once used elements from them. His excitement grew as the assignment was through and he could hear more on the areas around this section. Returning your notepads and pens to your purses to explore as much as possible. Until you all at Teddy’s agreeing grumble for food had you climb into her car for the drive home. Back at the car his doubles each soaked back into his body and he slipped into the car settling on the floor to be out of the way wondering what your home would be like.

Anxiously she watched your city stretch on and listened to everything along the way to the front walk where you asked the driver, “Did you want something to eat?”

“That would be mighty kind, thank you, Miss Pear.”

He glanced down the street eyeing the kids peering at the car, “Car’ll be fine. They just like to daydream.” That calmed him and he followed you all up the stoop through the open front door.

In Loki’s path to your side he asked, “Why would the chauffer not be comfortable leaving the vehicle on its own?”

To a flash of silver in your eyes his glimmered green a moment feeling your mental tap he accepted to hear your answer, “He’s afraid it will get damaged or stolen.”

“He is that afraid for the safety of his vehicle? The street is adequately empty with little traffic.”

To that you wet your lower lip in a glance away, “It isn’t his vehicle, it belongs to Portia’s father.”

“Surely then he should not be so concerned. It is not his. Were it to be stolen-,”

“He would be fired and arrested at best,” parting Loki’s lips. “This is not Asgard, dark skinned people have been released from slavery quite recently and have very few rights. I am glad to know that Asgard could be safer for them, however we are still working on equality.”

“Could you and miss pink not do something about this injustice?”

“Women are property on this planet.” The statement halting him in the middle of his step to enter the room you were guiding Portia into. “I belong to my brother until I wed James, then in public I am allowed to do what he shares I am free to.”

“Surely that is first on your list to right at once!” He said hurrying to catch your side again seeing the same flinch of pain from his last visit in your eyes explaining a lot more from his first visit to your school an how others behaved around you.

“Trust me I fully intend to crush any man in my way to my goals. And my friend Portia, is among the few women I’ve met willing to shake the status quo. I’ll do anything I can to help her and other women to get forward in life and out of the mark of being owned.”

“Surely my father knows nothing of this.”

In a glance his way, “I highly doubt your father cares. Or my mother and other women wouldn’t have faced such brutality in their lifetimes.” Determined for answers Loki bottled up his bubbling rage enduring the tour until he was certain it was just small talk around the table. Then he ate the rest of his orange to race off to find his mother Frigga for an answer to these infuriating discoveries that she now took as your mission that was keeping you from attacking Asgard, but not protecting their planet as they were rightly responsible for the issues allowed to fester there. Surely putting them second on the list for targets once you have righted Midgard and were after those responsible for those issues festering in the first place.

James led him inside to the kitchen where he found Victor ready with a juice filled bottle and some food to go with the lunch as you showed Portia around to sate her curiosity about everything. Once there he was a bit confused to find no separate kitchen for him to eat inside of that had Victor saying, “No one’s gonna drag you out of here, feel free to get comfortable. If you like you can eat in here to the radio while we set the table in the dining room.”

That had him ask, “You don’t have any help?”

James chuckled easing Teddy into his high chair to start feeding the boy, “Nope. Don’t need any.”

Victor said, “Plus this is the Irish block, no one around here has help outside of the family. Too big for their britches and pocket books.” He said taking the first of the food out to the set table.

James added on in the Driver lowering into the chair James motioned to behind the plate Victor had made for him with utensils he returned to pour him a glass of juice, “And Jaqi likes to practice her cooking lessons.”

The Driver thanked the pair for the food while Victor got to the tea for you who asked him, “Would you happen to know if Portia likes sugar in her tea?” That had the Driver smirk watching him pop a sugar cube between his lips, “There is something about this damn sugar cube package. Tastes off,” He said setting the cubes aside to grab the loose sugar bag he filled the sugar container with for the tea tray with a measuring spoon to not spill.

The Driver said, “Could be you got that rancid sugar they tried to dump off down south in the war.”

James, “Something about it. But we got some honey from Canada to help sweeten the tea for Jaqi till we got the new bag, now we got nothing to use the cubes for unless we want to glue it into a house or something for Halloween decorations.”

The Driver said, “Either that or you can use it for soaps or stains, add some water to it ground up and leave it on the stain for an hour you can get out some nasty grease off your hands and grass off your clothes.”

Victor smirked saying, “Soap sounds helpful, fixing the back grill has been hell to scrub that grease off.” He looked the Driver over, “How’s your brother Benjamin doing? Jaqi shared about him.”

That had his brows inching up and he released his fork leaving it on his plate to reach into the inner pocket of his jacket offering Victor the envelope he drew out the copies of pictures inside. A smirk ghosted across Victor’s face walking around the table to sit by James showing him the images of the time in Italy your troops that crossed paths with his brother’s colored battalion. “Oh look at these. These are some good angles.”

The Driver smirked returning to his meal, “Benjamin likes taking pictures on the side. Even got a job taking portraits in the colored part of town and for some stables for Sir.”

James, “Well that’s good to hear. Did it cost a good deal to have these printed down south?”

The Driver shook his head, “No sir, Benjamin prints his own copies. Sir bought him a good supply of all he needed to keep up on his horses and their progress while he’s away.”

Victor chuckled lowly, “One way to make sure no one makes off with a show pony while he’s gone. Jaqi will love these. Hasn’t been able to find a picture of these beaches in books on Italy.”

Between bites of his food Teddy patted his hands on the pictures James started to show him as well. By the time he was through and finishing off his bottle James was on his feet rinsing the plate off and Victor smirked to the Driver saying, “I’ll turn the game on for you, there’s seconds on the stove if you want more. Help yourself.”

He nodded his head with a grin, “Thank you sir.” Watching the brothers who walked out to join you both at the table to help you entertain Portia for a couple hours to when she was expected to leave freeing you to head up with Victor to print out a copy of the film reels from the contest to hand over to the yearbook team at school on Monday. Dinner came soon enough after you’d drafted the essay due for your Art History class from the trip to the exhibit today.

Pt 37

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