#decided to drag my name into their own bs when i’m just sitting here

[luckheist]

bruh

[i-write-newsies]

A/N:

(Y/N) - Your Name

(L/N) - Last Name

(N/N) - Nickname

(H/C) - Hair Color

(D/N) - DEEZ NUTS!! /j Deadname

(E/C) - Eye Color

(H/L) - Hair Length

(Y/A) - Your Age

Ships Included:

- Jack x Davey

- Spot x Race

- Finch x Smalls (Platonic)

- Albert x Elmer

-Katherine x Sarah

- Spot x Reader (Brotherly Platonic)

- Race x Reader (Brotherly Platonic)

Summary:

You have always dreamed of living in the world of your favorite characters, to escape from whatever rotten life you have and make friends with the people you love. One day, fate decides to give you a chance. But when you're not prepared to be rushed into that universe, it becomes a roller coaster of balancing good and bad emotions and events.

Good luck, Reader!

!!TW!!

~ SELF HARM

~ TRANSPHOBIA

~ MAJOR INJURY

~ ABUSE

~ ARGUING

(Y/N) POV:

I'm (Y/N) (L/N). I'm (Y/A) with (E/C) eyes and (H/L) (H/C) hair. At least it used to be (H/L). I cut it all off today. I can tell my mom just found out because of the loud cursing and stomping. "GODDAMMIT, (D/N)!!" she yells. What scares me the most about this situation is the fact that I'm kinda used to this. I hear her coming up the stairs to my room and rush to the door and lock it. As expected, the door handle starts rattling violently, "(D/N) YOU LET ME IN RIGHT NOW, YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE SH!T!" She starts banging on the door, stressing the lock.

I sigh. Today was one of the worse days. I slip on my noise-canceling headphones and press play on my musicals playlist, consisting of:

- Waving Through A Window

- On My Own

- A Little Fall Of Rain

- Angel of Music

and of course...

The entire Newsies soundtrack.

By the time I get to 'Seize the Day', it's twilight outside. I lift one of my headphones to check if my mom is gone. I hear nothing. I look out the window and don't see her car. Perfect.

Unplugging my headphones and letting the music play, I walk over to my dresser, open it up, and reach deep in the back. Aha!

I pull out some bandages (A/N: DO NOT ACTUALLY BIND LIKE THIS OK BYE). I take off my shirt and try not to look in my mirror, fearing what sort of feminine body I may see. I start wrapping my chest to the point that it gets a little hard to breathe. This kinda hurts, but my dysphoria is stronger than my need for comfort and, let's be honest, safety.

Slipping my shirt back on, I look into the mirror and smile, satisfied with my flat chest and somewhat choppy short, (H/C) hair. I jump onto my bed and plug my headphones back into my phone which is now playing Santa Fe. Santa Fe honestly makes me think. I'm only, what, (Y/A)? And I still go through all this BS. I need out. Somewhere my mom can't tell me I'm female. Somewhere like...Newsies. I mean, Race is canonically trans, right? Not to mention all of them are definitely fruity. They'd accept me. The fresh, bandaged cuts on my arms are the only things keeping me in reality right now

As the song ends, I realize that I've been crying. God, why am I stuck in this wretched place? The question as well as thoughts of Newsies reverberates in my skull, a sort of white noise until I fall into a much-needed sleep.

"Aye, kid! Watcha doin sleepin on the street?"

"Especially in a place this..."

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Jack POV:

I yawn, rubbing sleep from my eyes as the circulation bell drones on an' on. I let my eyes adjust to the view of the sunrise from my penthouse in the sky.

As I try to get up to get ready, a pair of arms drag me back down. "Jackieeee" a half-awake Davey groans, "come back down, it's freezing up here." "Dave, we gotta get to work. The boys can always count on me being at the gates early, so if you don't get up, I'm leaving you behind." This seems to wake him up a little more, "Alright, alright fine." he shivers as he gets up. I throw him his top shirt and vest and he desperately claws them on to gain warmth. Carefully, we climb down the ladder.

"What'd I tell ya, Dave? Even in the middle of summer, the night's always freezing." Davey rolls his eyes and does a little shiver "I know, Jackie, now c'mere and warm me up" I grin and move in closer, holding his hand, as we start walking to the gates. "Still not warm enough!" Davey said in a singsong-ish voice. I sigh and feign annoyance, leaning in to give a short but sweet peck on the lips. I think he's satisfied now. We're not usually this lovey-dovey, but I think we're both touch starved and subtly begging for a hug.

Davey, being the amazing boyfriend he is, stops by Jacobis to get us some breakfast. "Dave, you really don't hafta-" "I insist, Jack. After all, breakfast is the most important meal of the day," he says in an almost snobbish voice. I give him a small smile. That's my smartass Dave.

As we get to the gates, I notice a small figure leaned up against it. By now, the sun has come up some more over Manhattan 'n Dave 'n I don't have to walk as close to warm ourselves up. The figure seems to be sleeping, a newsies cap over their eyes. I think it's a kid. Maybe a new newsie looking for work?

I crouch down in front of him lift his hat, and start tapping his shoulder, "Aye, kid! Watcha doin sleepin on the street?" "Especially in a place this..." Davey notes. The kid seems to wake with a start. He rubs his eyes, and I chuckle a little "Whatsa matter? Ya look like youse seen a ghost." He doesn't seem to find this funny and repeatedly switches from looking at me then Davey with some confusion and shock in his eyes.

"I um-" he stutters over his words, "Aye, aye, kid, calm down, you ain't in trouble or nuttin." He takes a few deep breaths. "Okay... I'm (Y/N). I'm just freaking out because This isn't where I fell asleep, and- and I just- feel like I know you..." "Well, (Y/N) it sounds like you're one of da Newsies now," I say with a grin, "Now, we gots ta give you a nickname, we rarely eva call someone by their real name, 'cept Dave 'n Albert of course," The kid stays silent, clearly still shocked from waking up in a foreign place. "I feel like I know you.." he says, barely discernible. "Maybe ya do, maybe ya don't, Dave here's the only one good with faces." The kid looks up at Davey, who seems deep in thought, "(N/N)" he exclaims, "Ah, sorry, what I meant was your nickname should be (N/N)!" "I like it! But why (N/N) exactly?" I question, "Well, *insert reason why here*" "Well ain't you a clever boy, Dave!" I say, ruffling his hair. Davey shies away, "Jack! Now I have to fix my hair!" he complains, "Sorry, sorry." Davey then leaves to fix his hair in front of a shop window nearby, leaving me and (N/N) alone.

(N/N) seems to want to say something, but as soon as he opens his mouth, he shuts it just as quickly. I try to fill the awkward silence, "So, what's wit' da bandages, kiddo?" He freezes, "Nothing, just a ploy to get people to buy more papes..." he trails off. I have a feelin' he's not tellin' the truth, but I go along with it anyway, "Ha! What an idea, I wonder how I neva thought a' that before." he smiles, seeming satisfied with the praise. Davey returns from the shop window, "Alright! Ready to start the day?" (N/N) nods, and so do I.

Newsies start gathering, some glancing at (N/N) and some anxiously peering through the gates. I look at the headline for today: New Newsie Price! "Aye, Dave, you seein' this shit?" "Language- and yeah... what in the world was runnin' through Pulitzer's head when he thought of this??" I look at (N/N), whose mouth is a thin, pale line but whose (E/C) eyes are glinting with determination. "Heh, kid, what's that look for?" He looks at me, a little startled, but quickly regains that same tough expression, "I have a feeling that this ain't some silly little joke. And I'm worried 'bout the kids that may get hurt in the crossfire." I laugh, "Youse just bein dramatic! Surely, they wouldn't be as dumb as to underpay their own employees." I walk over to Weasel and slap down a penny "100 papes please!" "That's gonna be dime, Kelly."

My heart almost stops, and it takes all my strength not to break down in front of the boys. I fake a laugh, "Surely you're joking." "100 papes costs a dime, take a look at the headline." I hit the money box out of anger, "Then we'll just take our business to Brooklyn." Someone pipes up, "The same thing's happenin' there." "Then we'll go to Rushing!" Specs jogs over, seemingly out of breath, "I'll save ya the walk; it's the same everywhere."

Fuck.

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Y/N POV:

A sharp pain in my chest temporarily distracts me from the situation at hand. Ah. I almost forgot. I still have to bind. This sucks. I feel a pair of eyes on me and turn just in time to see Racetrack Higgins avert his eyes. I give him a confused look and turn back to Jack singing "The World Will Know" I forget all about his weird staring and get back into the determined beat from before.

Soon, the newsies and I make our way to Jacobis for some...water I guess? I do happen to have some extra money in my pocket so I think I can treat all the boys to some seltzer. I sit down on a hard wooden chair in a slouch. The room is buzzing with excited talk of the strike. I give a small, sad smile. These boys have no idea what they're getting themselves into. Crutchie sits next to me serving a wide smile just as Jacobi enters with a tray full of waters, "And here's one for you, and for you, and for you- who's the big spender that ordered everyone seltzer?" shyly, I raise my hand, "That's me, sir." "You know these cost a quarter each, right?" I pull out a handful of quarters with a cheeky smile "and I got more where that came from." The boys go wild, "Where did ya get all that money, kid??" Davey, being the concerned mom, asks "Please tell me you didn't steal that." I shake my head, "I used to live comfortably, but my mom kicked me out for...reasons." my grin falters for a second, but no one seems to notice.

"Well!" Jack stands on a table, "Here's to the strike! And, of course, (N/N)" He gestures towards me with a wink as everyone cheers. As Katherine enters, I start to zone out and stare at a speck of dust on the ground. After all, I know the plot all too well. I perk up, though, as soon as Jack asks who's goin' to Brooklyn. My hand shoots up, "I nominate me and Race!" I exclaim. I look over at Race, who's staring at me, blushing and jaw dropped a little. I grin at him and look back at Jack, who's a little shocked. "A-alright! Me and Dave'll take the Bronx, I guess."

*Timeskip to after the restaurant scene*

I walk down the Manhatten alleys blindly, no clue where I'm going, when I hear someone come up behind me. "Hey, (N/N)! It's me, Race." I smile weakly, "Oh, hey." "I always sell my papes at Sheepshead in Brooklyn, so I know where to go."

It's almost completely silent except for the clicking of our shoes on the paved roads. "So... how'd ya get here as a Newsie, (N/N)?" "Well, Jack 'n Davey found me sleepin' on the street just this mornin'" He laughs, "Wow! So you got used to the Newsie life real quick!" "Yeah, I did.." I let out a small chuckle as well. Race pulls out a cigar and clamps it between his lips and goes to light it but hesitates. "Uh- Wanna cigar?" "Wow, Racetrack Higgins giving me one of his own cigars? I'm flattered!" I joke, "But, yeah, I need smoke." He digs into his pocket and hands me another cigar, "You eva' smoked before?" he stares at me as I put the cigar in between my lips. I grin sheepishly, "No." "Okay, maybe we should stop for a second. Coughing while walking ain't the most fun thing in the woild."

We lean up against a wall as Race lights first his, then my cigar. I inhale and immediately spiral into a coughing fit. Race smacks my back, "You good, (N/N)? I ain't neva' seen a fella cough that hard on the first puff." I roll my tear-filled eyes and continue coughing.

Once my coughing fit subsides, I feel a wave of relaxation. "God I should do this more often." I groan, Race grins, "Yeah, once you get past the whole blowin'-your-brains-out part of smokin', it's real nice. Anyway, shall we continue?" he gestures to the streets ahead. I nod my head and take another puff, "Yeah, it's gettin' kinda late and we do NOT wanna wake up the Spot Conlon." Race nods in agreement and we hurry along. Even though I know Spot is kind of a softie, that doesn't stop me from being intimidated by his prowess.

We reach the Brooklyn lodging just as Race's cigar burned out. Race takes a deep breath and gives three solid knocks on the door. A kid younger than me answers the door, "State ya business" "I'm here to let Conlon know about some very important news." The kid squints his eyes but responds "I'll ask him if he's willing to meet with anyone right now. Who should I tell him is askin'?" "Race. Higgins." He says somewhat awkwardly.

The kid closes the door. Race and I stand quietly waiting for the OK to see Spot. Suddenly the door swings open to reveal Spot. "Ra-" he notices me and coughs, "I mean- Higgins, would you like to step in to discuss the important news?" I almost laugh at the way he went from totally in love to distinguished gentleman. I shoo them away, holding in laughter, "don't worry, I'll wait out here and give you lovebirds some space." (A/N: or should I say sprace) I see them both go tomato red.

I sigh as they head inside. I take a drag from the cigar and start thinking. How did I end up in the newsies universe and act this calm about it? This feels so surreal. But I want to stay here forever. Far away from my sh!tty mom and all my responsibilities.

Lost in my own head, I barely notice as Racetrack storms out of the lodging, clearly pissed. "C'mon (N/N), we're leaving." he grabs my hand and angrily powerwalks to the next street over. Once we're there, he lets go of my hand and sighs harshly, walking slow. "I assume it didn't go well?" I ask, already knowing the answer. "Not. Well." "Wanna talk about it?" he shakes his head and starts walking "No, thanks. I think we's better get to bed before Jack gets worried." he stops. "Do you have a place to sleep?" I look down, "Not really..." "Well!" he grabs my hand again with a big grin, "Looks like youse bunkin' wit' me." I start to protest, but realize it'd get me nowhere with this stubborn SOB, so I let myself get dragged along. Oh, well. I might as well get rest for the strike tomorrow, goodness knows I need it.

As I settle down into the rough sheets, the gentle snoring rocks me to sleep with thoughts of the strike. One thought flashes through my mind before I fall asleep; God help us all.

I wake up to someone poking my face. My eyes flutter open and I almost fall off the bunk at the sight of Race's face right in front of mine. "JESUS CHRIST, RACE, YOU SCARED THE SH!T OUTTA ME!" He backs off, putting his hands up in surrender, "Sorry, sorry, it's just that Jack said you had to be up and out in 10 minutes so we can have an organized strike or whateva'" Race rolls his eyes, "I'm startin' ta think that Davey's rubbin' off on 'im a lil' too much."

I groan, tempted to slide back under the covers, but get up anyway. I slept with my clothes on so I don't have to do anything about that. As I look into an old, rusted mirror and comb my fingers through my now tangled hair, I feel another sharp pain in my chest, accompanied by a dull throbbing. I really should have taken off the bandages while I slept, but now it's too late. I take one last look in the mirror and, ignoring my eyebags, quickly head out the door to join the others. As I get to the gate, everyone's waiting with anticipation, faces grim but hopeful.

Everything happens in a blur. One moment we're striking, and the next we're beaten into a pulp. I manage to soak a Delancey in the eye when suddenly a familiar sharp pain fills my chest and wince, faltering. Morris takes this as an opportunity to knee me in the stomach, forcing me to the ground, where their take turns kicking my chest and body with those damn steel-toed boots of theirs until my clothes are torn and the cuts on my arms reopen. Suddenly, there's a small crack as my body swells up with pain and the taste of metal enters my mouth. I let out a blood-curdling scream as the pain registers in my brain. In my blurred vision, I see the Delancey's walk away, ready to torture their next victim; Crutchie.

I try to get up and reach out, try to scream at them not to hurt him, but all I can do is weakly move my hand in their direction and spit out blood. Suddenly, a small but rough hand reaches out and drags me into an alley. "Dammit, (N/N) what were you thinking?! Fighting in a gawddamn binder, and a makeshift one, no less!" "R-..Race..?" "Not now, (N/N) I have ta get youse to safety foist." I watch as he chews on his nails in thought, "Dammit! The only way back to tha lodge is through the Delancey's again!" He sighs. "Brooklyn it is..." He gingerly picks me up and carries me as fast as possible to Spot's turf.

Setting my feet on the ground and propping me up against him, he bangs on the door. "Spot!" Please! This is serious, I need your help!" I can hear the tears in his voice. Spot flings open the door, obviously very concerned. He's confused for a second, then looks at me and his eyes go wide. "GET THE MED KIT AND A COT OPEN, WESE GOT SOMETHING HORRIBLE THAT'S HAPPENED" he yells behind him. Race, now more calmed down, takes me in his arms again, but seems to refuse to look at Spot, who looks away as well, but more in shame.

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Race POV:

I watch as some of the Brooklyn newsies take (N/N) and lay him on a cot, anger surging through my veins. I take a deep breath "I'll take care of him. You guys don't have to worry about it." As they leave the room, I look down at (N/N) and can't help but feel guilty. Like this is my fault. I only got away with a black eye, but he got all this?

I regain my composure and start by taking (N/N) shirt off. I can already see the bruises starting to form and cringe. I take off his binding bandages and see his chest expand immediately. Poor kid. He must have been hurting in more way that just one. I take the gauze from the wooden box and gently wrap his torso with it. Maneuvering around his arms, I notice something. The bandages on him arms. When he was wearing them before, Jack said it was a marketing ploy, but now I see red bleeding through the white gauze.

I unwrap (N/N)'s arms and gasp. Hundreds of tiny, but deep cuts litter his forearms and wrists. F#ck. He was hurting so much more than I could have ever known. I wrap them with fresh gauze and treat the rest of his wounds, stepping back to admire my handiwork. That's when I start to cry. Full-on tears falling, face in hands crocodile tears. I turn my head with a start to see Spot, standing over me with a hand on my shoulder, looking apologetic "I'm so sorry..." Suddenly this sadness turns to rage. I grab him by the shirt collar and drag him outside to an empty alleyway. "SORRY?? SORRY, MY 4SS! (N/N) AND SO MANY OTHER 'HATTEN NEWSIES ALMOST DIED OUT THERE BECAUSE YOU DIDN'T WANT TO JOIN UNTIL YOU KNEW WE WOULDN'T "CAVE" WELL, WE DIDN'T CAVE, AND LOOK WHAT F#CKING HAPPENED! AND DONT YOU SAY SORRY TO ME AND EXPECT ME TO FORGIVE YOU JUST BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, THAT'S FOR CROW TO DECIDE." Spot seemed silent at first, but now I could see his anger building up; "WADDAYA THINK WOULD O' HAPPENED TO MY BOYS, HUH?? I WANTED TO WAIT TO SEE IF WE WOULD BE THE ONLY ONES FIGHTIN IN THIS BATTLE AGAINST PULITZER."

I open my mouth then close it. He has a fair point, but doesn't he trust me and the udda newsies not to bail in their hour of need? I sigh, pinching my nose. "I'm sorry Spot, I just-... I just wish you trusted me a bit more..." I look up at him to see tears in his eyes. "OH, SPOT HONEY, ITS OKAY, I'M NOT MAD, DON'T CRY, DON'T CRY" I shush him, pulling his head into my chest, which isn't tough considering his height.

As he lets go, the adrenaline rush from today dies down. God, I'm so tired. My knees nearly buckle and Spot notices, "Aye, aye! Tony, you doin' okay?" I nod at him, but the bags under my eyes are making them droop, "Race, honey, you need to get some sleep, okay?" I shake my head but soon fall into Spot's arms as my legs give way. "Fine..." I mumble. I can feel him grinning, "Good, we gots an extra bed for youse to sleep in." I sigh, grateful. I can feel Spot picking me up, the rhythm of his boots tapping along the ground, a pause and shift as he opens the lodging door and kicks it closed behind him as I fall asleep.

I wake up in a cold sweat. (N/N). I need to see (N/N). I need to check if he's okay. I climb out of the bed Spot laid me in and let my eyes adjust to the dark before maneuvering around all the other sleeping kids. I make my way as quietly as possible to where (N/N) is resting. I crouch down and take his hand in mine. How could I let this happen? And how did I not notice his suffering? I press the back of his hand to my forehead, closing my eyes. My body is so tired right now, but my mind is too tortured with guilt to let me sleep.

By the time my thoughts finally leave me alone, the sun is rising in the sky. I'm finally drifting when- "Race?" I turn my head to the voice, "Oh, jesus, you look horrible!" Spot exclaims, "did you even get any sleep last night?" I shrug, to be fair, I lost count of the hours. Spot sighs, "Race...go sleep. At least for a few more hours. I can watch (N/N) if that makes you happy," I nod, rubbing my eyes. I stumble back to my bed amongst all the Brooklyn newsies and fall asleep the moment my head hits the pillow.

My mind dreams of talkin' cigars and bloody bandages. I see Crow propped up against the wall, smokin' a cigar. "(N/N)! (N/N)! Oh my god, I'm so happy that you're okay!" (N/N) doesn't answer, I slowly starts walking towards him, "(N/N)...?" he starts laughing. Softly at first then roaring, and the laughing turns into a heavy coughing fit. As (N/N) coughs, red smoke pours out of his lungs and clouds my vision. I swipe at the air, trying to brush away the fog, "(N/N)?? (N/N), where did you go?!" suddenly, the smoke clears and I see (N/N) bruised, damaged, bleeding body at my feet, I gasp and step back. (N/N) slowly turns to face me, and in a painful, teary, almost sickly whisper asks, "Why did you let this happen?" Tears start spilling down my face, "I- I didn't me-" "You did this to me Race. Race. Race. Race! Race! RACE! RACE!--

Spot POV:

--RACE WAKE UP!" He wakes up with a gasp. He looks around wildly, tears dripping from his chin. I've never seen him like this. He must care for him like a brudda. To be honest, I'm worried as well, not only about (N/N) but now that we know 'Hatten isn't gonna back down and we join the fight, what's gonna happen to the newsies in general? Kids could get hoit. Bad.

"Spot?" Race starts sobbing, clinging to my shirt fabric, "Please...tell me it'll be okay..." I can't. Race, I don't know if it will. I almost start sobbing on the Spot ( A/N: heh...), but I hold my composure and smile at him, "It'll be okay, Tony...we're all gonna be fine" He seems to believe this, at least a little bit. "Now, don't you gotta meet up wit' da udda newsies?" He retracts his head from my chest, eyes wide. In a nasal voice, he goes "AW SHOOT, I 'MOST FORGOT" I watch him with a small smile as he rushes to get dressed like the goof he is. God, I love 'im.

Race POV:

Silence. I got there too early. Fuck. I can't just be alone with my thoughts, but at least I have some extra money to... I don't know? I walk up to the bar, where the owner of Jacobi's is cleaning out glasses. I sigh and sit down, "Got anything to help forget? At least for a little while...?"

"Ain't you a little too young for that, kid?" I give him a look and push my money over the counter to him. He quietly collects it, "So what can I get ya?" I'm silent for a bit "Fireball." I say with some demand in my voice. He disappears behind the counter and comes back with some shot glasses and a Fireball bottle, pouring it out into the glasses as I watch. I notice as he sighs, "Feel betta, kid." Can't promise that.

I pick up a shot glass, watching as the orange liquid spins around in it. I take in a breath of spicy cinnamon before letting the liquid slip down my throat, leaving a trail of a burning sensation. Soon, one turns into another, and another, and another and before I could comprehend it, the room starts to spin and blur. Eventually, the room fills with newsies, mumblin' 'bout how crappy the strike went. I do my very best to fit in and not act drunk, but the time zooms by and I find myself singin' 'bout bein' the king o' new york. At some point in the blurry memory, Katherine suggests getting drunk and I throw my hands up and cheer. More free Fireball! But then she clarifies that it was a metaphor, to which I am very disappointed.

The rest whizzes past me and soon I'm stumblin' my way to Brooklyn. I knock heavily on the lodging door, then lean on it. Unexpectedly, the door opens and I'm left to fall flat on my face at the feet of my boyfriend, Spot Conlon. "Race! Darlin', you okay? Youse fell flat on ya face!" He extends a hand that I receive and pulls me up. I giggle, "Ahhhh, my Spotty! Always carin' 'bout uddas. Pshht! Yeah, I'm fiiiine." I flop my hand down to wave off his concern. He wrinkles his nose, "You reek of cinnamon....and alcohol." He widens his eyes and I let out anudda giggle, "Race! Tell me you didn't jus' get drunk!" he whines, I grin, "Okey, 'you didn't jus' get drunk'" I imitate him in a deep voice and he sighs, "Jesus Christ, Racer.." he grabs my hand pulls me inside, eventually laying me on a bed, face red with a giggling fit. "Goodnight, my liege," I giggle some more, "and you my Prince," he gives a small smile before covering me with a blanket. I fall asleep before it's up over my shoulders.

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I wake up with my head feeling like it's going to explode.

Fuck Life.

I groan and sit up. "Mornin' Sleepin' Beauty" Spot smirks and hands me a cup of water, "Shut the fuck up" I whine and grab the glass, "Ooh feelin' feisty today, huh?" I shoot him a look that could rot a squash with one gaze. He holds up his hands in defense, "Alright, alright, my bad," He shrugs. I sigh and take a sip of water, which turns into me chugging the whole thing. "You betta get ova this hangover fast, hon" I groan, not ready to do anything at all today, "We gots the meetin' wit' Jack."

End my life.

"No, I don't think I will," "fuuuuck did I say that out loud?" I let out a small wail, and Spot chuckles a little, though you can tell there's somethin' on his mind still, "Yeah, ya did sweetheart." I grumble something incomprehensible and look down, red. He smiles, "Get dressed and drink as much water as possible, okay? We can't have you hungover for the big meeting, right?" I nod...which causes my head to hurt. Ow.

I sigh and decide to take my sweet time getting dressed. This sucks. "Spotty!" I call, then cringe after a new wave of pain hits, he pokes his head through the door "Yeah?". "I don't have the energy to deal wit' all dese gawddamn bandages. Help me?" He blushes a bit but agrees to help me bind. All I focus on is not hurting my head again. Spot ties the bandages and stands back to admire his handiwork but quickly notices my cringin'. "Do you want somethin' cold?" he asks gently, I nod as gingerly as possible.

*Timeskip to after the newsies meet n greet bcuz I'm power-finishing this at 12am and my mental health is steadily declining*

My hand shakes as I bring a fresh, unlit cigar to my lips.

Jack. That sellout, that traitor.

A sharp pain knocks me out of my angry thoughts. Ah. I burned myself.

I feel a hand on my shoulder, "Racer.." says a gentle voice, "You okay? that's your 3rd cigar in the past 2 hours or so." I look up to see Finch leaning over me as I sit on the ground, a concerned look on his face, "You're gonna run out all too soon" I give a bitter laugh, "Yeah, I guess I will." Finch can see that there's not much he can do to help me. He gives a weak smile and turns to walk away.

I see Davey run off somewhere. I wonder where they're going? I sigh and turn my head back down to the ground. Who cares? Without a leader, the strike'll just fall apart and Pulitzer'll win. Who was I kidding when I bragged abt being da "King o' New York"? I'm just some nobody kid without a nickel to my name. The bigger guys always win, so what's with me tryin'?

Jack POV:

I can't let any more kids get in this much danger. I visited (N/N) today. I found out about all his... injuries, as well as whatever he was born as. He's been through so much before all this, he doesn't deserve it.

It's my fault for being so ignorant. For not noticing anything was goin' on. My fault for inciting this stupid strike. For getting all these kids hoit. and Crutchie...poor Crutchie, locked up in that godawful place. I know he ain't helpless, 'e's a cheeky little bastard, I'll give him that, but the Refuge breaks down even the biggest of smiles and smothers the brightest of people. I will never forget that hell I went through. I went in a cheeky fightin' kid with a deep, strong flame, and came out with the embers barely glowing. It took years just to spark it up again. I'm terrified as to what'll happen to him.

I lean over the railing of my penthouse, not even noticing as it shakes and squeaks, making way for a young boy a little younger den me. "-Jack! JACK!" "Jesus Christ, yeah??? Oh, it's you, Dave..." I look away shamefully, he's probably here to chew me out and tell me we're done and gone. "What the hell was that?" I wince, I knew it. "Waddya mean 'what the hell was that?'?" "You know what I mean, JACK KELLY." I'm fucked. "YOU BETRAYED US FOR MONEY?!" "I WOULDN'T HAVE FELT PRESSURED TO IF I WADN'T DEALIN' WIT' A FLAKER!" Davey gives a bitter laugh and balls up the front of my shirt in his fist, tugging me towards him. "Ohoho! And if I wasn't your 'best friend' you'd be lookin' at me through one swollen eye!" "Oh, yeah? Well, don't let that stop ya, huh? Gimme your best shot!" something soft roughly pressing against my lips. The only thought at the moment is; 'Well, this is new... and passionate, 'specially from Dave' there's a heavy, awkward silence.

I back away from him, knocking over my drawings in the process. One specific drawing rolls out seemingly by fate. It taps on Davey's shoe and he looks down. His eyes widen a little as he reaches down to get it. "Is this.. the Refuge?" he puts a hand over his mouth, "weren't you stuck here once? Rats, cockroaches everywhere, 6 kids to a bunk? Holy fuc- I mean fudge." If the moment weren't this tense, I might've laughed. "Jack..." I feel a hand on my shoulder. "You don't have to tell me if you're not ready." I shake my head and he drops his arm understandingly. "Either way, we could use this. Heck..." Davey seems deep in thought before his face lights up, "We could make our own newspaper!" I look at him in disbelief, he notices, and speaks again "think about it, Jackie! Kath's a real talented writer! This art could change the perspective of hundreds! We could write to tell all the workin' boys to go on Strike tomorra'! And we could expose Snyder in the process!" Hey, that's not too bad..."But, Dave, how're we gonna print it?" His face falls, "I didn't think about it...we're banned from every printin' press in New York.."

Oh no. Ohhh no. "No. Noooo." I whine, Davey chuckles, amused "what?" "I know a printin' press that no one would ever think of!" Davey grins, "Then what are we waitin' for?" He puts my drawing back into the case, and slings it over his shoulder, getting ready to climb down. Suddenly, a thought strikes me, "Wait-" "Yeah?" "Dave- what are we exactly? Like I know how we act to each other n' everything, but we've never really said out loud what we are..." Davey giggles, "Jackie-" "No! Tell me right now, are we... in love? Boyfriends, I guess?? Or am I just something for your own experimentation?"

He cups my face in his hands, "Jackie..." he kisses my nose, "Of course I love you! And yes! We are in love! Dating! Boyfriends! Whichever way you want to define us!" Soon we're both grinning ear-to-ear and blushing. "Now!" he exclaims, hopping up, clearly on a high from the whole kiss and convo, "Let's get to it!" I laugh and stand up as well, following my over-enthusiastic boyfriend down the ladder. As Davey said; Let's get to it!

(Y/N) POV:

'My head hurts...' I think groggily. I try to open my eyes, but my vision is blurred and wonky. I sit up. Nevermind. Everything hurts. As my vision starts to clear, I see a very tired Spot Conlon sitting in a chair in the corner of whatever room I'm in rubbing sleep from his eyes. He fixates his eyes on me for a second, and I can see the sleepiness and confusion in his eyes turn into shock and joy. "(N/N)! Ohmygod! I'm so glad you'se awake!" I can see him go to wrap me in a bear hug before holdin' himself back after he remembers all my injuries. Wait. My injuries. "Does this mean you know about...?" I vaguely gesture to my arms and Spot nods sadly, "And..." I cringe and gesture to my chest, now only lightly bound with medical tape, but tighter than needed for a typical injury. I smile to myself. That must've been Race. He's like a perfect older brother, not only thinkin' about my physical health, but also my mental well-being.

Spot notices the look on my face and sees me lookin' down at my chest, he chuckles, "Yeah, Race decided on that. He wanted you to feel as comfortable as possible while you heal." I start grinning even harder. Spot spoke up again "Don't forget that even boys born seen as boys don't have perfectly flat chests, so binding as tight as you did wasn't necessary or safe, for that matter." I give him a look, is Spot really trying to be the cis savior right now? He gives me a look right back, "What? I know what I'm talking about." He lifts his shirt up to reveal two scars on his chest. I gasp, "But you're only *insert years/months* younger/older than me! How did you even know that this was an option, as well, how did you do it?" He smirks, pulling his shirt back down, "Thought so. Anyway, I don't really know. I needed them off desperately and randomly thought of it. As for the how, Buttons is AMAZING with scissors and blades. Like, scary amazing." He shivers. I blink. Damn.

He gives a shy grin "Do I really pass that well?" I look at him enviously "Of course! But... how do you look so...masculine?" "Well, I tried my best to copy the behavior of other boys I saw. And the whole working out didn't hurt." I nod, taking a mental note. Behavior, got it. Can't promise sticking to a workout, though. Spot scoots closer, taking my hand in his, "But the most important thing to understand is- behavior, body type, and a powerful reputation doesn't define being a true boy. What does is what's in here-" he taps my head, "-and here." he points to my heart. Spot looks me in my eyes, "You could wear dresses, skirts, use a 'girly' name, hell, even go by she! and you'd still be a boy in my eyes." I feel my eyes water, and Spot opens his arms to me with a sincere look. I fall into his arms and cry tears of joy. Spot and Race are the older brothers I never had, helping me at every fork in the road of my transition.

(A/N: I noticed that a big issue in trans fanfics was that the cis person was always the one to condescendingly teaching the helpless trans kid how to bind properly. I decided to make both of your mentors trans, had them both know what they're talking about, and made sure that you weren't completely useless or clueless, only that you needed guidance seeing as (Y/N) is a trans kid with no former knowledge about his transition. As well, I kinda wanted this fic to be of help to any newcomer trans men. Anyway, on to the last of the story!)

"So how are your ribs feeling?" Spot asks after we both calm down, "A little sore, but pretty much moveable. Is it really this painful to bind? I mean, the past few weeks I had the binding stuff on was my first time." "It shouldn't, I mean, lookit Race. He seems energetic and flexible even when he's binding." I think he sees my insecure face because he speaks again, "What I mean to say is- if you have more experience binding, you'll know how to mix mental and physical comfort. Either way, what fucked up your ribs wasn't the binding, it was the Delancey's. Not saying the way you were binding wasn't bad and wouldn't have caused lasting damage, of course."

I see Spot have a flicker of thought behind his eyes, he pulls out an obviously stolen silver pocket watch with the initials H.A. engraved on it to check the time. "Almost time..." he mutters. I give him a suspicious look, "Almost time for what...?" he looks sheepishly at the ground, "Nnnnnothing." I let out a noise halfway between a snort and a scoff, "Uh huh." "Fine." he sighs, "All the newsies and workin' boys is comin' together today. We'se hopin' ta finish up this strike Once And For All."

"Let me guess, I shouldn't go because I'm still healing." He nods, "Spot!! I need to do my part in this strike! I can't miss the most important day of my life." he gives me a weird look, "You don't even know what the outcome'll be, plus I promised Race that you wouldn't get hurt." "Please, I've been bedridden for WEEKS. And I won't get hurt" I protest stubbornly, he sighs exasperatedly "FINE, but I'm gettin' you right outta there at the foist sign o' danger, okay?" "Okay!" I say, content with the compromise. "We should prolly get you up and used to legs again before the strike--" my stomach rumbles harder than Les when he sees the chocolate croissants in the Pastry Shop window, and that's seriously saying somethin', "--and something to eat, too."

Spot holds my hands as I get out of bed and basically learn to walk again with wobbly legs. You could just paint my back with spots and call me a baby deer. Once I get my legs to work with me, Spot leads me to a tin tub. I give him a 'seriously?' look, "What am I doin', goin' ta church?" he laughs sarcastically, "Ha, ha. (N/N), you haven't cleaned yourself since the last time you were conscious. I also need to refresh your bandages since those haven't been touched since Race changed them in the foist place." "Fiiiine" I growl.

Spot unwraps my arm and chest bandages, but when it comes to me taking off the rest of my clothes, he looks away (not even for my privacy, but just because he is highly repulsed to the idea of naked bodies) I add enough soap suds on top of the water to cover my body so he's comfortable.

He grabs some soap and lathers up my hair with it, soon rinsing it. He also lathers and rinses my face, removing the built-up dirt, grease, and sweat, which accumulated surprisingly quickly for only spending a month, or was it two, here. Spot brings out a small piece of scrap fabric and a bottle of some liquid, then gently grabs my arms. "This might burn a little," he said empathetically. He dampened the cloth with what I am assuming is disinfectant and started pressing it against my healing cuts. I tried to hold in my pain but let out a small hiss when the cloth reached the deeper cuts on the backs of my arms. Spot stopped temporarily, letting my arms adjust to the sting a little, before continuing. Once he's finished, he hands me the soap and leaves the room to let me bathe myself in peace and picks up my dirty clothes and old bandages. "Holler if you need anything!" he yells on his way out.

I create a lather in my hands and stand up so I can actually wash my body. The air is chilly compared to the bathwater, so I do my best to be quick as I let my soap hands travel gingerly over my body. I look down, and for the first time in a long time, I don't feel ashamed. Spot words echo in my mind as I smile softly; 'You could wear dresses, skirts, use a 'girly' name, hell, even go by she! and you'd still be a boy in my eyes.' I guess, for now, I'm confident in my masculinity.

I sit back down, enjoying the warmth, and rinse myself off. I step out of the bath and look at the grey-ish brown-ish water. Ew, was I really that dirty? As the cold air envelops me once more, I realize I don't have a towel. Or clothes. "Spot!" I call out, "Yeah?" I hear a faint voice, "I need a towel and some clothes!" I answer. There's quiet, then a series of rustling sounds that slowly get closer. The door opens a crack and I see a tan, muscular hand slide a pile of clothes and a towel in my direction. I smile gratefully, "Thanks, Spotty!" "Aye! Only Race can call me dat..." "Okay, fine."

I dry my hair as much as possible, before continuing to my body. There's not much actual rubbing rather than patting because of my injuries, so when I get my pants on and slip my button-down onto my shoulders, they get a little damp. "Spot?" I call out again, "Do you think you could help me with my bandages?" "'Course!" He casually picks up the chest bandages and binds it pretty much perfectly- Tight enough to make a difference in my chest size, but loose enough to let my ribs heal. Spot then starts re-bandaging my arms, "Can I ask you a question, Spot?" "Sure, (N/N)" he says nonchalantly, "Why is it you are repulsed by fully naked bodies, but you're perfectly casual and fine about helping me bind my chest when I'm half-naked?" he clears his throat as if he was ready to spin a whole story, "Well, Race used to live with me and we started trusting each other a lot more than when we first met. He trusted me enough to teach him the best way to bind, and he trusted me enough to feel comfy without a top on when around the house, so I'm kinda desensitized. But when it comes to people being naked or bein' overly suggestive, I just..don't like it. At all."

'Asexual,' I think, 'Knew it."

"Anyway, you ready to fight off the bulls and get our rights back, (N/N)?" He stands up and offers a hand to help me up, which I receive. I catch my reflection in the dirty bathwater. I can see crystal clear, that I am dapper, strong, and ready to kick some Delancey ass.

But first, Lunch.

Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω~Ω

I arrive at the strike on Spot's shoulders, hyped for the happy ending they all worked so hard for. Spot sets me down gently and scans the crowd for someone. It seems he found them because his face lights up. I see Race run over to us. "(N/N)! Oh my god, I'm so fuckin' glad that you're awake! Especially today of all days!" however, his enthusiasm is soon replaced with concern, "But is ya sure yer okay? You must've woken up just today, so are you feeling good? Yer injuries don't hurt too bad, you're not dizzy, hungry, thirsty?" "Calm down, Tony, I gave him a bath, changed his bandages, gave him food n' water, even a pep talk, so you don't need to worry!" Race takes a few deep breaths, "Okay, okay, yeah I'm fine. But that's great!" He engulfs me in a firm, but gentle hug. I look around the crowd and see some familiar faces, Katherine seems to have brought another girl with her, who I'm assuming is Sarah, Davey's sister. I see Albert and Elmer tightly holding each other's hands. I see Finch and Smalls exchanging jokes as a form of distraction. I look back at Race and Spot, who are being so romantic, it's almost gross. Almost.

The adrenaline still hasn't left me so when people start getting as excited as me, it just hypes me up even more. We look up at the window of Pulitzer's office and see Jack and a few others standing there, waving. I wave back vigorously. Not too long after, Jack, Davey, Pulitzer, and The Governer appear on a balcony, Jack at the front. "Newsies of New York City..." cue the pause for dramatic effect, "WE WON!!" The crowd of newsies roars with joy. I watch as Crutchie limps out and beats Snyder's ass as the abuser is dragged away, I don't understand why so many people see him as an angel, it's obvious that he's a cheeky lil' rat bastard.

Suddenly, it's like everything is in slow motion. I look around once more and see Katherine and Sarah kissing, same with Albert and Elmer, Finch and Smalls are hugging each other tightly. I look back up at the balcony and see Davey and Jack gettin' it ON. I look once again to Spot and Race, who just finished kissing. Spot reaches down and hoists me onto his shoulders to cheer. And as I take in this momentous victory one sense at a time, I realize in a moment of pure bliss-

I finally found my true family.

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

Word Count: 8190

(A/N):

This took VERY LONG (approx. one month, I just finished after working from 9 pm to 5 am) I know it was supposed to be a simple one-shot, but since there was no one to help narrow down and shorten the plot for me, I got carried away. I am, however, pleased with the length of it. This may be the longest fic I've ever written. As well, I hope any underlying advice or tips mentioned in the story helped you to understand/realize something.

I would love it if you were to vote, give me some constructive criticism, and/or request something for me to write! Don't forget- I live to write that one fanfic you can never find.

Love y'all!

~ Race

[caffeinetheory]

So what if they had met at a gala Roy with Queen and Marinette with Jagged and like they each of this bad impression of each other such as "Oh, he's the spoiled rich kid"or that"she's a total diva who would do anything to do famous" or something like that. But then when both the to like ditch the party or go somewhere not as bad as the main room and end up meeting and talking and becoming friends and then later dating. Then Lila goes on and on that she's dating Roy but that fails as he shows up.

Okay so this is my first ask/prompt thing but I loved it and I hope it’s good

Thanks to the people in the group chat for the encouragement, I really appreciate it <3

Here goes nothing, hope you like what I ended up writting

(pacing maybe a little fast, oops)

///

She didn’t want to be here, Mari only came because she ran out of excuses to not go to a gala with Jagged. Don’t get her wrong, she loves her honorary uncle but being in the spotlight was not something Marinette enjoyed, Ladybug was more than enough for her thank you very much.

So here she was sipping champagne, which she shouldn’t be but that’s for another time, hugging the wall trying to not stand out with all of her will power. Despite her best efforts Jagged could be heard loudly boating about his favorite designer and talking about how she made his and Penny’s outfits as well as her own. Knowing he was about to drag people around to show her off she decided to bite the bullet and pushed herself off the wall and walked over to him and what looked like a rich blonde businessman and another person around her ae that clearly didn’t want to be here.

The floor length rose pink dress shined in the light as she made her way over to Jagged. The intricate flowers becoming seen as she moved, and her hair flowing behind her as she walked. She commanded the room with confidence as she walked, a perk of being Ladybug for so long, long gone was the overly shy pre-teen and now stood tall legal adult. The shear back of her dress exposed small scars from years of fighting but no one would notice as her over all beauty distracted from the clear battle scars dancing across her skin.

She came to a stop next to Jagged placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, “I know you want to tell everyone about me, but I could hear you from across the ballroom,” rubbing his neck in slight embarrassment Jagged shared a smile with her then to the gentleman he was talking with. “Mari, how nice of you to finally join us, I’ve been trying to get her to come to one of these for years, this is Oliver Queen and his ward Roy Harper,” anyone could tell how proud of the person she had become with his enthusiasm.

Shaking Oliver’s hand politely Mari turned to shake Roy’s only yo be met with a badly hidden scoff and rough handshake in return. ‘Spoiled rich kid with everything handed to him, lovely. Exactly why i tried to avoid these things’ was all that went through her head as she watched the red-head look anywhere but at her or the conversation he was begrudgingly in. ‘Great another person I’m going to have to pretend to tolerate because of the bs that is plesanties’

“So did you really make all three of your outfits?” Oliver was trying to make conversation, someone Roy’s age could possibly do him some good. Given that her deminr became less forced and Marinette seemed to light up the room even more he figures he picked the right thing to ask. “Yes! I’ve been designing for as long as I can remember. It is one of the few constants in my life, and Jagged here,” she gestures in his direction her enthusiasm clear to anyone, “Has insisted that I keep making him things. At first I thought he was just being nice but finding out he was the one that got Clara to look into my stuff is something I can't thank him enough for.”

“Anything for my rock and roll niece,” Jagged playfully ruffles her hair and she swats at his hands, this was a normal thing and Mari was clearly more at ease now that she was able to talk about her interests. She went on for a bit longer, Roy had left under the guise of getting something to drink and snuck off to one of the side rooms to get out of the stuff “party”. Mari left the pair of influential men saying she needed to get off her feet, they let her go and she ended up ducking into the very room that Roy was settled in.

Marinette’s huff of relief after closing the door and leaning against it made Roy snap his attention to the door. “I can’t wait for this to be over,” she looked at her phone to check the time, her heels already in her hand, “Still two more hours till I can ditch.” rolling her eyes, she looked up finally noticing the red-head and a startled sound involuntarily left her, ‘lovely rich boy is here’ she tuned to leave the room when his cough made her look in Roy’s direction. “You trying to escape too?” a sheepish smile played on his lips, his shaggy red hair hung loosely as he tilted his head toward her. Hesitantly she walked to the table across from the one he is sitting on to sit on herself.

“You could say that. Not really a fan of the spotlight,” she replies hesitantly, though his small laugh in return helps loosen her up. “That makes two of us, had to force me” his posture is loose, no longer as stiff. The two ended up spend the next few hours just ranting about how stuffy galas are and how they’d rather be anywhere else. They got to know each other so when both left the room with smiles and a small paper the guardians they came with, had knowing smiles, their plan had worked.

The rest of the month while Marinette was in Star City she was with Roy. Rumors of the two dating where everywhere by the end of the first week. Everywhere the two visited seemed to radiate happiness as the pair enjoyed the other’s company. No one had seen either so happy in a few years. Late night coffee ‘dates’ and soft laughter had become the norm so quickly that when Mari had to go back to Paris everything felt a little too quiet and dull.

‘I made it back, guess I got to accept the chaos again’

‘Miss me that much already ;)’

‘Oh shut it you dork’

Collapsing on her bed Mari’s smile since the gala still hadn’t falutlered. She still had two weeks before she had to go back to class but she didn’t want to think about that yet. Savor the moment of happiness she had while she could...that couldn’t last long could it? It never did, an Akuma alert went off and Ladybug was swiftly on the scene.

“I’m glad to see you’re back M’Lady”

“Good to see you too Kitty, but I just got back, any idea what’s going on”

“Seems like a tourist who missed their reservations”

“Ok sweet, this should be a piece of cake,” and it was they were done in less than 10 minutes. “Come on M’Lady we have a few more that need to be taken care of,” leading Ladybug the partners went to the Effilé Tower so she could purify the other Akumas that had happened while she was gone.

“Thank you Kitty, I appreciate the break.” There were maybe 20 glass jars and only 16 or so butterflies. They had made a system just in case Ladybug wasn’t in Paris and didn’t require to come back all the time. “It’s what a purr-ncess deserves isn’t it, everyone should get a break even you Mari.” “What better sibling could I ask for? Hang out tomorrow? It’s been awhile since I destroyed you in Mécha Strike.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

By the time Marinette woke up it was close to 11 and it was to light tapping on her trap door, what sounded like a ‘come in’ left her lips as she went around her room to look presentable. Adrian came into her room, some food on a plate and a Cheshire like smile, “Sooo, how was the states? Make any new ‘friends’ while there?” His testing tone made it clear she couldn’t get out of it.

The next two days were spent together catching up on what they had done and Adrian getting all the details about a certain red-head. “Ok so maybe I like him but we both know how bad my track record is?” Mari’s exasperation was clear, she had confessed to Adrian before they knew who was behind the mask and he came out as gay to her. She ended up being what got him and Luka together, then Kagami and Cholé, we don’t mention that confession. “I don’t know princess, you might actually have a chance,” he had a knowing smile, too knowing, something was up. Pushing away the thought, “You’re just a helpless romantic,” they playfully shoved each other as they were heading back to the bakery after a day just walking around.

Texting Roy and hanging out with her small team was all she had done when she had done when she got back so walking into the classroom to cold stares had thrown her for a moment. Her reality hit her like a ton of bricks but it didn’t hurt as much as it used to, she had people who cared about her and people she cared about. Marinette took her seat in the back of the class with Cholé and Adrian. The trio had been forced to the back but enjoyed the freedom it let them have.

The door slammed open and one Lila Rossi had walked in laughing loudly to Alya, no doubt talking about ‘what an amazing summer’ she had, the trio just rolled their eyes and went back to their phones.

“You texting him again, I swear you are always texting him,” Adrian joked seeing Mari ignore the world, the only thing she cared about being her screen.

“I mean you know me so well,” rolling her eyes at his antics, “what else am I supposed to do? Listen to ‘something that totally happened guys I don’t know why you don’t believe me’,” her sarcasm was palpable.

“I mean this time you might care, it’s about some boy toy, a Queen I think,” Cholé supplied to the conversation muffling a laugh as Mari immediately snapped her attention to the girl in the front of the class.

“You have got to be kidding me, she can’t be that dumb can she.”

“Oh you know she can and will be”

The rest of the week was spent with Lila telling the class about how amazing and put together Robert was, she couldn’t even get his name right!!! Mari was a little pissed but it wasn’t worth it, she knew the real Roy and he may be a disaster incarnée but he was hers. Did she really just think that? Damn Adrian was really rubbing off on her.

Two weeks later when Adrian told her to wear red and black, and to make sure her hair was in a ponytail, she chose not to question it. What ever crazy plan he had plan would probably be fine, they usually were. Texting Roy in the way to her class she almost missed the foot out to rip her, but being so focused she just sidestepped and jumped over the other 2 that were outstretched as she made her way to class. She wore a bright smile, Roy was talking about how pretty Paris was. ‘He must have seen the pictures I sent’.

Practically falling into her practical sibling’s lap she hummed a happy tune forgetting where she was. The red shirt she wore was one that she may have narrowed from Roy and it still smelled like him. The two blondes who sat with her started to tease and run their hands through her hair, happy to see their girl so happy again.

“So, Kitty, why was I to wear this today? What’s the occasion?”

“Oh you’ll see,” his knowing smile should have worried her but the text from Roy distracted her.

A picture of her parents' bakery and a text that said ‘this is your parents right?’ Lit up her screen.

‘Yeah why’

‘No reason, shouldn’t you be in class?’

‘Hasn’t stopped me before ;)’

Lila’s loud boasting about her ‘boyfriend’ Mr. Harper, at least she got the last name right, broke the bliss Mari had been feeling, though Adrian’s poorly concealed laugh did bring some of her smile back.

It was at lunch when Mari found out why Adrian was so giddy and why Roy was talking about the beauty of Paris. In the middle of another one of Lila’s stories about her ‘boyfriend’ a cough stopped her mid sentence, “Um actually, who are you? I’m pretty sure I’ve never met you before. I think I’d remember someone as loud as you.” There he stood at the bottom of the stairs, in all his glory, one Roy Harper.

“Adrian I love you but I’ll kill you later,” Mari whispered to him and then launched herself at red-head. “What are you doing here?” He caught her with ease spinning her slightly, “Happy to see you again Pixie,” their laughter could be heard throughout the school. “But Roy, seriously what are you doing here?”

Rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, “Adrian may or may not have gotten me here… and I wanted to see you again” Mari half hearted flared at the blonde who jut give her a grin. This was sister and Roy made her happy, so of course he was going to do what he could so she could be happy. “Told you it would work out,” Chloe’s retuned fistbup told him she was happy for their friend too. After all she had done for them it was only fair they helped her.

“I may have also wanted to ask you something,” Roy looked down at the shorter girl, “would you be down to be my girl…” he trailed off at the end but their was clear admiration in his eyes as he squeezed her hands.

“Of course you dork,” she gently pulled him down into a soft kiss.

They left the school after that, somehow the school already knew to excuse her for the est of the day. The pair had a lovely date ending up with them both falling asleep in the couch as a movie played.

The next day Mari didn’t come to class, neither did Adrian or Cholé, but there were cease and desist letters on both Alya’s and Lila’s desks and a firm warning from the Queen lawyers about falsely using their name.

Mari was happy and she really had to thank Jagged for finally convincing her to go the dumb gala, and maybe Adrian for getting them together.

They were an odd pair, the human disaster and the embodiment of an angel but they were happy and they fit, they wouldn’t change it for the world.

///

So that was that, hope it was good :>

[the-final-sif]

interview about writing processes

Hey Lady Sif,

thank you for taking time for us and agreeing to answer our interview questions.

Since this was of short notice we decided to change the deadline to June 19.

We hope the time frame suits you.

Here are our questions:

Can you shortly describe us your writing history? How did you start off? How did you come across fanfiction?

Do you have a writing philosophy that helps you overcome challenges in writing?

Could you describe your writing environment? (workplace, prefered writing tools, fandom discourse, discourse with friends)

What inspires you to write and post in and for a fandom? What triggers your headcanons? Does your educational background influence your writing?

In how far does your fandom experience influence your writing?

In how far do you work with others to create fan content? And what ideas do you integrate in your writing?

Are there certain steps you take/decisions you make when/before responding to a post/prompt?

When and why did you decide to host writing events like your fake fics event? What was the purpose and how did you approach the title prompts?

How would you describe the difference between writing alone and writing spontaneously with others (first in creating fan theories and headcanons and second in creating fanfiction)?

Do you think knowing that others read and can comment on your texts subconsciously influences your writing?

What motivated you to create a story where your readers can decide for an ending (name)?

Is there anything else you consider important in your writing process that you would like to tell us?

Thanks again for your time and effort, we are very much looking forward to your answers!

If you’re interested we’ll keep you updated on our findings.

Kind regards, Dana and Helena

----

Can you shortly describe us your writing history? How did you start off? How did you come across fanfiction?

I started writing when I was very young! I was a huge reader, and even before I was writing stuff down I was a storyteller. It’s a really important part of my family & how we communicate with each others and others.

My first experience with fanfiction was when I was,, 7 or 8? That sounds about right. I hand wrote a fanfiction called “ShoppingCats” which something between warrior cats and Cats vs Dogs, but also made primarily of my OCs (+ a handful of warriors characters I liked). I still have most of it, it’s sitting in my desk drawer in it’s original binder, since my mother saved it.

I came across fandom spaces / online fanfiction in 2012 with fanfiction.net, and published my first fanfiction in 2013 (under Rosae-Sif on fanfiction.net). I’ve taken breaks as my interests changed & life got chaotic, but I’ve always enjoyed retelling stories that I hear and changing them to suit me more / explore new themes, so I’ve stuck with it after all this time.

Do you have a writing philosophy that helps you overcome challenges in writing?

Yes! I write for myself above all else. It’s fun to write stuff for other people sometimes, and I like getting feedback and what not, but I never let that be the focus of my writing. I always try to write what I want to be reading, so when I go back and reread what I’ve written, more often than not I find I’ve produced something that makes me happy, and that helps keep me going when a lot of other things couldn’t.

Could you describe your writing environment? (workplace, prefered writing tools, fandom discourse, discourse with friends)

Uhhh, I don’t really have any one set thing. I mostly write on my laptop, sometimes I use a notebook + pen. I have 5$ fountain pen that I got that I really love when I have writer’s block.

I think the most consistent “workplace” for me is actually discord/my friends. Almost all of my AUs/fics/ideas start as me storytelling (either typing things out or out loud) to someone else. That’s where the spark comes from, and then that slowly is refined through several iterations until I have something I like. 

I really like taking long walks with headphones & nobody else around. That’s when a lot of the very early forms of my favorite ideas come to me. It’s a key part of my writing process the few times I get stuck on stuff too. I just go walk till I figure it out.

I don’t really get involved in discourse much. I like debating people, but I try to stay away from destructive stuff and just have my own fun corner where I create things. I’m in fandom for fun, and I refuse to let me experience be tainted by people who try to turn it into Discourse Central.

What inspires you to write and post in and for a fandom? What triggers your headcanons? Does your educational background influence your writing?

As I mentioned before, I write and post primarily for myself! I have a lot of ideas in my head all the time, and things I want to see, so I create those things and then put them here. It’s fun when other people interact with me + add onto my ideas + create things in response!

My headcanons are usually just kinda,,,, coming out of my brain. I think it’s just how I am. I have a question or a thought and I start looking into it and before I know it, a whole new thing has come out of it.

I think my family actually influenced a lot of my writing style more than anything else. I mean, I was homeschooled for a long time, and my parents were very encouraging of whatever weird projects I was creating (my dad once even let me cut down and drag actual brambles into the basement to create a warriors style fort). I was allowed to dress however I wanted (during high school I worn nothing but PJ pants b/c they were most comfy for me, and also I had/have several capes that I would rotate through), I was allowed to dye my hair (still do! it’s current a side shave in red + purple + blue!), and I was encouraged to just,,, be weird and happy. I think that shows in how I write. I pursue the ideas I want to go after, I indulge myself, I commit to thinks and I focus more on what I want to write rather than what I feel I should write.

That being said, a lot of science nerding that comes out in my writing is def from my educational background. I’ve got a bachelors and stuff. I did take some writing classes, but to be honest, I think my fanfiction experience influenced those a lot more than they influenced my fanfiction (years and years of writing constantly and quickly paid off in college where I would BS papers the night before and get top marks on it).

In how far does your fandom experience influence your writing?

Hmm, I don’t think it does that much? I mean, for the BNHA fandom in particular, I think that seeing all the cool content + ideas other people create really keeps my brain chugging along and creating new things, and god, having seen people make fanart and fanfiction for my stories has been one of the best feelings I’ve ever experienced, but I don’t think that’s really changed how I’m writing.

At my core, I’m still doing the same thing my 8 year old self was doing with her pencil and that binder full of paper. I take the strange thoughts out of my head, and I follow them onto the paper until I create something that makes me happy.

I’ve had some negative experiences of course. I mean, everyone does. They’ve all been fairly minor, mostly just people trying to tell me I’m wrong about stuff that’s either in an AU that’s already not supposed to be canon, or stuff I’m right about. Most of the time it’s just annoying. Sometimes it’s concerning. I ignore or delete the annoying stuff, I don’t want to give it any of my time or attention. 

The concerning stuff I try to reply to. It’s been rare, but sometimes I get comments on certain fics trying to tell me what’s being depicted in my fic isn’t abusive when it absolutely is. I try to correct that and link to resources when I do get that. I usually don’t get a reply, but a few times I’ve had people realize that what they thought was normal was actually abusive behavior. I’m happy that I’m able to help people come to that realization.

In how far do you work with others to create fan content? And what ideas do you integrate in your writing?

Hmmm, I’ll be honest, I’m not quite sure how to answer this one. I don’t exactly work with others when creating my fan content? All of my writing (save one RP collab homestuck fic from ages ago) is done by me exclusively, and most my ideas are also mostly from my own brain. Although I will say one exception to that is @windschildfanfictionwriter​ whose an amazing bnha writer I chat with fairly frequently when I need help figuring something out.

It’s less of “working” with people, and more discussing things/ideas, and being excited about stuff. Sometimes literally all I need is someone to be my rubber duck while I talk about an idea for 2-3 hours to get it solidified. People in my discord server often help me by betaing (editing/reviewing) my wips. My adhd means I often make weird mistakes, and they’re wonderful at helping me catch that.

As for ideas I pull into my writing, it’s hard to pick out specific ones. I think I kinda create + absorb + integrate lots of stuff at once. A lot of the times my ideas don’t come from things other authors write, but instead come from things other authors didn’t write. When I see an thought/idea/thread in a story that isn’t followed up on, or isn’t handled how I think it should be handled, that often inspires me to either use a similar base concept or similar thought but in the way I wish it had been done.

Are there certain steps you take/decisions you make when/before responding to a post/prompt?

Not really? I tend to just go with whatever comes to me or what I already had prepared. I’m rather impulsive, so unless it’s a delicate subject matter, I roll with whatever’s going on.

I do always make myself take a step back before responding to stuff that annoys me/any sort of anon hate. I have to remind myself it’s not worth the effort and I should focus on positive/fun stuff. I’ll admit though, I have a very combative nature that can get the better of me sometimes. I’ve gotten better at that though! Hooray for proper adhd medication to help prevent destructive stimulus seeking behavior and therapy! Although I do still like to debate stuff for fun, I just don’t let myself get hostile about it.

When and why did you decide to host writing events like your fake fics event? What was the purpose and how did you approach the title prompts?

Oh, I just saw the post and thought it looked fun so I reblogged it. Stuff like that is mostly an impulse more than anything else.

I just kinda went with the flow for the titles. God, I got so many of those, I still have a lot of them sitting in my inbox, most of which I probably won’t ever post. For the ones I did do though, I picked ones that sounded like fic titles I would actually use, and then asked myself what sort of story I would use that title for. Then I just kinda wrote whatever came to me.

How would you describe the difference between writing alone and writing spontaneously with others (first in creating fan theories and headcanons and second in creating fanfiction)?

Hmmm. This one is also a bit hard. It’s rare I truly “write alone”, most of my stories start as a form of oral storytelling and then are adapted to “proper” writing. Most of my theories/headcanons start the same way.

You’ll notice a lot of my posts start with “Also” “Okay” or “I’ve been thinking” or “You know”. When I’m writing my headcanon/theory posts, it’s all written very conversationally because I’m still following my family’s storytelling in a way. It’s a public post, but I’m not just making statements to a void. I’m still talking to people, addressing them, leading them through stuff. It’s just how I communicate on a very fundamental leave.

I’m still writing for myself, I’m creating for myself, but I’m doing it with others. I’m telling a story constantly, and sometimes I’m telling that story to myself, but I’m still telling it to someone.

I think you can read that in my fics, with the perspective I tend to use. I use limited third person POV, but when I’m writing, I try to write it how the character I’m writing from the POV of would tell their own story. I’m not just describing what’s happening, I’m letting this character tell their story through their own voice, to others, to me. It’s a core part of my writing, and that makes it hard to say that it was ever really written alone.

Do you think knowing that others read and can comment on your texts subconsciously influences your writing?

I mean, it’d be impossible for it not to. But I don’t think it influences me that much. I’m still writing for myself most of the time, and I hold onto my bullshit tightly. I don’t change my writing based on what I think other people want to see from me.

That being said, it’s still something I think about. It’s more of a conscious choice, but specifically regarding my stories that have abuse in them, I try to connect in elements of realism and common underrepresented traits/habits of abuse (which I do try to check via research when I can) and ensure that they are then called out as what they are. I’ve gotten a number of comments/asks/discord messages from people telling me that my works helped them realize they were in a crappy situation / understand what they were going through, and that’s something that’s important for me.

I think The Green Eyed Monster is an example of that, where I explore platonic stalking/obsession/pressuring. It’s something I don’t see taken seriously often enough, so I wanted to frame it in a serious but realistic light and make it clear that what was happening was wrong and harmful. I wanted to explore this concept, but I purposefully did it in a way that I hoped would help others who might’ve dealt with it on some level understand it for what it was, and I think it really shows. In the comments of that fic, there’s a lot of very personal responses/stories from people who went through similar experiences. I think that’s important, so it’s something I try to do when I can.

The other thing is I do 100% put references/lines in certain stories with an evil grin on my face knowing that a certain handful of my commenters are going to rip their hair out over it, either because they have no idea what I mean by it, or they know exactly what I mean by it. But hey, I’m a hurt/comfort writer at heart, so you can hardly blame me.

What motivated you to create a story where your readers can decide for an ending (name)?

Oh, uh, “Seven Year Old Katsuki Has The Ability To Kill A Grown Man And No Concept Of Legality”.

I actually can’t remember the exact inspiration for this one? I think I saw uhhh, Markiplier, playing a text adventure game, and I got curious about creating something similar.

I considered using a platform meant for text based games, but true to my family’s long history of needlessly complicating things and creating things where they aren’t meant to be created out of some mix of spite and creative hubris, I decided I wanted to make it on A03 instead. I looked up a style formatting guide, and went to work.

That whole project took like 1-2 months, around school work and everything else. It was created entirely using links that sent you to the next page. That’s it. That’s the only ‘code’ functionality I had to work with. So I made a whole paper map of the routes, separating them out into “steps” and then created unique text blocks for each step based on prior choices. I used a secret point system for one of the main routes, and ended up with 97 unique steps, and 155 different text blocks/variations.

Fun project. A03 was having some trouble/going down right after I released it, and to this day, certain members of the discord server still blame me for that as I was forcing the website into bullshit it was not meant to contain.

Is there anything else you consider important in your writing process that you would like to tell us?

Nothing I can think of off the top of my head. Other than maybe I have an African Gray named Cecil, and sometimes when I’m not ready to share an idea with humans, I’ll talk it out with him first. He’s an excellent listener sometimes, and by that I mean he’s usually ignoring me or I’m giving him scratches and he’s not paying my rambling any mind.

Though sometimes I get lucky and when I finish up a point and ask for his opinion, he’ll just look at me for a moment and say “I love you.” He does it because I’ll always cave and give him treats since I’m weak for him, but it still makes me smile.

[john-in-london]

Hello, John how is life? Are you excite for the new year?

Hi, OP here! First, I would like to say sorry that this post would be bit surprising. I had posted John's story on Amino too and as there was more ask, I was able to finish John's story in the way I wanted. I should probably send these post here too, sorry about that.

Second: Not all pictures in this post are mine. I added names of the autora as I know them from Amino.

Before start: themes and art in this post could be quite dark, read with caution.

Lafayette's diary

It was few days before Christmas 2019, when my roommate, John Laurens, ask me to go with him to see his family on impromptu trip to US.

Family he almost never had been talking about.

How could I be so stupid?

When they told us that States are under martial law and that we will lend in Canada, John totally freaked out. He almost insulted fly attendant.

We slept on the airport that night. I woke up in the middle of the night, with John nowhere to be seen. I found him outside, trying to climb the fence, bruised and with scraped knees.

I should have grabbed him, drag him to the departure hall and sat on him until we should left for England in the morning.

But I couldn't.

He already told me that he is there because his "friend" Alexander. I saw that he is scared and sad and I couldn't tell me that I don't help him.

Even tho we"borrow" a car, we spent days walking over borders. In freezing weather, with shadows we didn't know yet are dead walking, all around us.

But it wasn't dead who get us...

He shoot me to the side when I try to help John.

The other soldier punch him and call help.

Her name was Angelica Schuyler.

But it was too late.

They take us to army base. I spend three nights in hospital.

When I got better, I try to find out what happened with Alexander. That's how I met one of my now friends, Aaron Burr.

I broke his nose when he told me about Alex.

He was bitten.

Hide in house in Weehawken.

Died after few agonizing days.

Aaron met him in Lincoln tunel And shoot him.

(By Judgemental moose)

Well...maybe he shouldn't start with that part.

We were together in Washingtons unit during war. I help to save his and Hercules Mulligan's life, when bunch of crazy white guys decided that apocalypse is good excuse for their racist bs.

(By Jette)

My kids think I'm liying what I tell them this part. Sadly not because of that racism thing, but because of me riding on a horse, Aaron's pregnant wife and our current president being there.

But it's true!

She was, and still is, that type of girl. She survive week in house surrounded by dead, marry Aaron Burr and get whole Washingtons army to get him from trouble.

Still not sure which of those things is the craziest one.

(By OrcasHaveNoChill )

It actually wasn't the first time I met Thomas...I mean president Jefferson.

Washington send me to get him, which, in the hindsight, wasn't the best idea.

He swore that he was in France only as a kid...

It was bit like that Termination movie to go there and try to help your "older self“

(By Jette)

I always skip the detail about what they do to Herc. I'm... I'm just glad he is alive.

(By Angel dust )

Because he was the one who hold me when Aaron chopped my leg off...

(By Felibubu )

It's no use to tell people again and again that we are not zombies waiting to happened and that they don't need to be afraid to sit next to me in subway... To be in one lift with my beloved wife..

But c'est une autre paire de manches

I try to contact John's family after, but... They already create “true story" they want to told about John. They don't one to talk...

This is the story they are showing.

They wasn't married.

I don't thing they were more that friends.

Just two scared people who didn't know how to live their own lives.

Only John's younger brother was willing to talk with me. He is great guy, he study univerzity.

He don't let anybody control his life.

Something I think that if John would be more like that, he would...

He wouldn't be...

But that cannot change the past.

So I try not to think...

[isuzukuretsuki]

Ikemen Revolution - Sirius’s Route

aka me graduating from being a wannabe livebloggering and becoming a wannabe otome reviewer HAHA.

I have a bunch of left over screenshots from Sirius’s route that I never posted so I decided to compile them all into one post + add in my own awful commentary/review. It’s mostly going to be the latter. So yeah enjoy experiencing Sirius’s route filtered through my terribad commentary and me dragging the poor man more than he deserves.

Honestly Sirius’s route is a blur to me at this point. The one thing that stuck out like a sore thumb that I didn’t like was Alice pinning over how ~cool~ and ~mature~ Sirius is while Sirius kept beating around the bushes about his feelings smh. What was even more annoying is that for the first half of the route it’s just Alice trying to help out with the war and Sirius just giving her menial tasks all day to keep Alice busy and avoid her pestering (╬ಠ益ಠ). 

Seth is a real bro in this route and actually gives some GOOD ASS ADVICE, TOO BAD NOBODY MAINLY SIRIUS TAKES HIM SERIOUSLY.

Gee I’m trying to romance you; how utterly elated it makes me to know that I remind you of your siblings. 

He fucking KISSES HER ON THE FOREHEAD and is all like “it’s just friendly affection!” BITCH WHAT PART OF THAT IS FRIENDLY AFFECTION?

The funniest thing is is that while this disastrous k-drama high school romance is going on as the supposed main focus, THE FLAMES OF WAR ARE RAGING ON IN THE BACKGROUND. Out of the routes I’ve played so far this route is the only route where the armies actually go in an all out war which I thought was pretty cool.

Okay this is less of a war between Red vs Black and more like Edgar vs Black because Lancelot is out of commission while Kyle is pulling his hair out like an old nanny tending to him and idk what the hell the rest of the Red Army dudes are doing. I am not exaggerating when I say that Edgar is the actual backbone of this army. It’s hard to really take this war seriously considering how no one is dying, only “injured” and these battles seem to have minuscule impacts or consequences and the fact that Sirius and Alice have time to be frolicking off with their less than smooth romance.

As usual Seth is the bro of the war too as he runs around spreading underground rumors. Tbh idk how the hell Seth managed to pose as a “reliable source” but I can just imagine him being like V and just knocking some poor Red Army sap tf out and stealing his clothes and running around spreading rumors like a character in Mean Girls spreading rumors about who the heroine is dating.

BIG YIKES AND BIG SWEAT. I think Sirius’s route is the first route to drop Seth’s connection to the Magic Tower, something I’d definitely never suspect. Maybe he’s a mole?? who knows.

But obviously who cares about that mumbo jumbo! We cut back to Sirius and Alice where Alice is drunk mumbling about how much she loves this sexy man, conveniently just while Sirius is in front of her and hears everything! But like the smooth operator he is he....................... doesn’t do anything. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ He just completely wipes the love confession clean from his memory and continues on his merry way as if it never happened. Great. A+ romantic development there, game.

Hell even the other boys are lowkey sick of Sirius “what is this feeling in my chest?! Definitely not love!” Oswald so they decide to all be MC’s wingmen because clearly that war you guys are fighting that is potentially killing all your men isn’t important! Sirius, OF COURSE, overhears the entire conversation where Alice admits she loves him and as usual.... HE DOESN’T DO ANYTHING.

Is it a sin if I actually agreed with Seth. I MEAN NO OFFENSE TO SIRIUS BUT............ 

Seth, can I romance you instead? Promise not to sell me out to the Magic Cult in exchange for Amon’s weed stash though.

Oh jesus christ can you just confess your undying love for each other already this is starting to become infuriating. You guys have a GOD DAMN WAR being fought in the background and instead I’m forced to sit through this cat and mouse game between these two mofos. Sirius, I love you, but. god dammit.

Oh right, were we fighting a war? I think we were fighting a war hahaha oops I completely forgot about that! But thank god that King No Fun is here to ruin everyone’s day! As we know, Lancelot has been pretty much incapacitated the entire route due to using too much magic, but nothing stops the King of Hearts. The man deadass drags his delirious corpse out of his bed (cue Kyle screaming in the background) and waltz into the Black Army HQ like he pays rent to whisk our princess away like the friendly neighborhood kidnapper that he is. He knocks her tf out and frolics into the sunset on his horse with Alice’s passed out body.

Sirius being the knight in shining armor that he is catches up to Lance on his horse and demands Lance return Alice, which Lance is like “nah son”. Sirius then proceeds to BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF LANCELOT (╬⁽⁽ ⁰ ⁾⁾ Д ⁽⁽ ⁰ ⁾⁾) I THOUGHT THIS MAN DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO FIGHT! and starts screaming in Lancelot’s face about how much pain his kokoro is in ever since Lancelot started being a piece of shit. Lancelot’s reaction pretty much just amounts to  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ and he gives up on the girl and saunters off. 

Sirius proceeds to spill his token tragic backstory to Alice, about how he, Harr and Lance used to be best friends but ever since Harr was exiled and Lance took the title of King of Hearts, their friendship had been strained broken to smithereens considering how Harr LITERALLY tries to kill Lance. Honestly as much as I roast the terribad romance between Alice and Sirius, I really enjoyed learning about Sirius’s history with Harr and Lance and it was by far the most enjoyable part of the route. I appreciate how much Sirius cares about Lance and Harr and it’s definitely the thing I like most about his character.

Anyhoo they return to find the Black Army Headquarters ABSOLUTELY DECIMATED. The magic cult goons completely smashed their headquarters but considering how all the boys have plot armor, no one is hurt so it’s all okay! （‐＾▽＾‐）

Alice realizes that Lancelot kidnapped her to protect her from the attack and that he is most likely being manipulated by someone in the shadows. She convinces Sirius to take her onto the battle field to confront Lancelot once and for all for answers. FINALLY THE PLOT IS GOING SOMEWHERE, and this is like what, part 20 at least?!

The moment they confront Lancelot on the battle field, the real King No Fun aka Amon crashes the party and he’s not a happy camper. He’s sick of Lancelot buying time so decides to just whisk Alice away himself!

aaaaand finally Lancelot’s “I’m the Worst” facade drops as he loses his shit. I find it interesting how it’s the first time he refers to the MC by her name and not Alice. He dives into Amon’s teleportation spell and gets whisked away with them.

Alice awakens to find herself in Amon’s creepy sex dungeon and Amon is like... your stereotypical evil cackling maniac cartoon villain that you’d expect.

He’s even a misogynistic twat as the icing on the cake.

Unfortunately Amon only wanted Alice but he accidentally brought Sirius and Lancelot too as carry on luggage. He leaves Lancelot be since he needs him but Sirius is just a fly in his plan so LIKE THE EVIL CACKLING TOTALLY NOT RIKA VILLAIN THAT HE IS HE PULLS OUT A FUCKING GUN 

and shoots Lancelot.

Amon shits bricks over Lancelot protecting Sirius but is ultimately Monokuma level “lmao idgaf” and proceeds to try and kill Sirius but they’re rescued by Harr and Loki who whisks them away back to Red Army Headquarters.

Kyle REALLY FUCKING SHITS BRICKS THIS TIME POOR BOY CAN’T GET A BREAK after seeing Lancelot’s condition and somehow miraculously brings Lance back from the brink of death. Sirius and Alice talk with Lancelot and he finally comes clean with the truth about how Amon’s threatening to destroy Cradle with his weed stash unless Lancelot cooperates. Sirius is all like “aight then let’s go destroy his weed stash” and both armies begin working together to defeat Amon. Great, the climax of the plot is finally here, I’m so excited!

THAT IS UNTIL Alice realizes that the full moon is finally here and thus she must go home! She highkey wants to stay but Sirius is like “nah son you going home”. and proceeds to SHOVE HER ASS DOWN THE GATES OF HELL. But not before making out with her like his life depended on it. What the fuck, he doesn’t even confess his love for her! He just makes out with her and is all like “lul bye” and shoves her down the garden portal. 

Welp great, the final battle with Amon is finally starting and I’M NOT EVEN THERE TO SEE IT LMAO! It’s like the writers got too lazy at the end and pulled this bs to avoid showing the climax of the story. Wtf let me kick ass with my man, what is this weak ass underwhelming development. 

Alice waits around in Reason for about 3 months before going like “yeah you know what fuck it” and decides to go back to Cradle because a hoe got better things to do then just sitting on her ass waiting for her man who may never come for her!

She goes to the park just in time to see Sirius, who, surprise surprise, actually did come to get her! He tells her how they finally defeated Amon and that Cradle is finally safe! Amazing, it took you three months to find that weed stash; it took Alice and Jonah one evening in Jonah’s route.

She goes back to Cradle with Sirius but it’s already night so they decided to pitch a tent at a nearby inn with only one bed!

just go to sleep...................... just go to fucking sleep.

The next day they return to the Black Army Headquarters, which is now peaceful since Amon is defeated and the war is over. I got Sirius’s dramatic end; Alice and Sirius decide to go over to Sirius’s flower shop, where they run into Lancelot whose finally chilled out with his “I’m the Worst” act now that Amon isn’t breathing down his neck every second like a creepy evil Santa Clause.  Lancelot buys an iris flower and proceeds to give it to Alice.

I’M FUCKING CRY HE’S SO SOFT.......... HE SO SOFT...... PLEASE PROTECT HIM AND HIS PRECIOUS SMILE.

The route ends with Alice planting the flower Lancelot gave her in the garden of the Black Army HQ, promising to live her life with Sirius and protect the little things that are important to them (´へωへ`*). and finally, FUCKING FINALLY, SIRIUS FINALLY TELLS HER HE LOVES HER. THAT TOOK YOU LIKE WHAT, THE ENTIRE ROUTE?

but no seriously imagine how awkward it’d be for Alice, after making out and sleeping with him only to be like “oh wait does he even actually love me, he never said he did” derp.

-----

Anyway that was a rundown of my own thoughts of his route + awful commentary. I definitely think his route was one of the weaker ones and it just didn’t feel like Sirius or Alice had any chemistry (｡-人-｡). I hate to admit being disappointed, especially because I was really looking forward to Sirius’s route but alas it is what it is. There were some nice scenes and I liked the friendship dynamic between him, Lance, and Harr but overall it definitely paled in comparison to Jonah’s or even Lancelot’s route. Ohwell, sorry Sirius lmao.

[noxus-the-venomous-blog]

Part 2.02 KICK THE WORLD FACE

"YOU MOCK MY LAIR?!" Noxus grabbed the man by the collar. "You dare come into my place of dwelling with lll words?!"

"We're really doing this?" Big problem asked with a sigh as he watched his smaller friend building up steam to torment the man in his clutches.

"I will reach inside of your meager brain."

"Yeah now I know we're definitely doing this." BP sat down, awaiting a long monologue.

"And when I'm finish twisting and turning every spark in your meager mentality…"

"Oh come on this is often the funnest part of the day!" Tranquill said to big problem, poking him in his gorilla like shoulders.

"...and when all that's left of your brain is the shallow pleadings of a child's mind you will kiss my boot and beg for me to end your life."

"Dude I'm not even the one who gets to keep the rent money I just collect it. The management decides the when the inspection happens! They only pay me like 50 bucks a month," the young man grumbled, held tight in the rubber fists of Noxious.

“Is it worth your life?” “Fine dude we can do the inspection next week. You need to be on medication bruv,” he remarked as noxious loosened his grip on him.

“The whole world needs to be on medication…” Noxious said slowly as the man walked away. He then turned around to face his audience who was already snickering at him “That was Jeff, the supers assistant. Good kid. So let's get down to business”

“To COMPLETE! The PUN!” Tranquill shouted, smiling widely. Her joke found no success however, in a crowd where one was too old for reference and the other was too uncultured.

“Is this really the place to talk… Private? Like that dude weird girl across the road has been sitting there filming you for the past twenty minutes.” BP pointed across to the set of parallel storage containers on the other side of the lot.

“That's um…. That's my PR TEAM! FOR FILMING PROPAGANDA!”

“YO BIG GUY TAKE OFF YO PANTS!” the woman yelled.

Big Problem shot her a puzzled look. “Lets go to my place Nox. This place smells like raccoons and sadness.”

“You have a place?” Tranquill asked as she grabbed her coat.

“Yeah of course. Do you guys think i only exist in the world to help ya then when i'm done i teleport to another dimension and sit around waiting for you to need help again??” “That would be very useful” Noxious replied.

“SHAZAM!” Tranquill added.

“Well that's not my power. Although i met a guy like that, nice dude, gay as a rainbow on a unicorns butt, now can we go to my place?”

“That's homophobic” Tranquill accused.

“Im quoting the guy, besides i'm a villain, social standards are the laws i’m LEAST worried about breaking.”

“We shall ride to your lair and resume our business there,” decided Noxious, “Um…. we need a ride though.”

“Heh… I'll bring the truck around but you’re going to be a little cramped.”

The truck putted down an empty highway, bellowing black smoke out from its aged, rusted exhaust. It slipped and stumbled in momentum each time Big Problem had to jam the clutch down and shift. The old metal shifter smacking into Noxious’ leg every time the lowest or highest gear was used. Tranquil, leaned in on Noxious’ shoulders affectionately, squishing him closer to BP who already took up most of the truck.

“Ok so we can start talking now. I need to know how seriously you two take this. How focused are you?”

“I take it very seriously,” Tranquill said.

“Well now you do,” Noxious contradicted.

“Well ok sure for the first few months i was pretty sure we were larping but im totally caught up now. I share his passions for this world and this work. I agree with every word of his personal diary.”

BP raised an eyebrow. “You guys share your diaries?”

“Define shaRE-” Noxious was cut off as first gear needed to be used again.

“What you two need is money.”

“We’re not greedy though,” Tranquil rolled down the window slightly, noticing her boyfriend sweating a bit due to his awkward seat status.

“OF COURSE YOU’RE NOT! You’re poor. Greed is a rich man's game. Look you don't have to have a mansion in the hills, but no one accomplishes change in the world without money. I know a guy who works for a place. That's not me being coy that's literally how you refer to his business. Anyway, he can really make the difference for you guys. How do you currently wash your money?”

Noxious spoke up before Tranquill could make a joke, “we basically don't. But we don’t make enough to require it. We have been seeking out some form of fence for jewelry or other valuable things that are easy to sell.”

“That’s adorable. Yeah just sign up at the evil guildhall and they introduce you to ye olde jewelry fence. Look little guy...”

“I AM AVERAGE SIZE!!!”

“That's why you’re sitting in the middle then?” BP says as he rams the shifter into Nox’s leg and slows at a stop sign “Anyway, hear me out. You don't just run around town looking for random junk worth money, you’re a villain not a crackhead. You need to talk to the right people, the ones i'm going to introduce you to, and find out what they would want. Sometimes it’s an object, sometimes it’s a service. Sometimes it might be something right up your alley like gassing someone or making menacing threats.”

Tranquill chimed in, “this is what we need, he makes so many menacing threats for free currently.”

“Exactly. Now if ya find a bar of gold on the ground, or happen upon a car made of diamonds, then sure you bet your ass you take it and just give it to the guy and he’ll give you credit. But nothing compares to what you can make by finding them just what they need at a given time… Ok we’re here.”

The truck pulls up to an old iron security gate. Before them is a long driveway, weaving through clusters of lavish landscaping. He presses a button on the worn out sun visor then shuts it as the fabric nearly tears. The gate in front of them opens and he begins driving through.

“Wait… When… What…” Noxious stuttered, “ARE WE ROBBING SOMEONE RIGHT NOW?!”

“Yeah cause if we were, im wanting you to just scream about it,“ BP joked, “no this is my house, and it's nice to know you seeing it makes you want to rob it. Guess i'm doing a good job with it. Were gonna pull around back, wait, how the hell would i have a gate opener for a place i'm robbing?”

“I don't know…. Stole it ahead of time? Hacked it?” noxious knew he was digging his own grave deeper.

They pulled around to the back of the quite sizable home and into a ramp leading to a parking garage, one story below ground. This presented a stark contrast to the lush gardens they had recently passed. This basement was empty and plain, with a sofa on one wall crowded around a large tv, and a bed across the way on the adjacent wall. BP slowly pulled into a parking spot next to a luxurious looking car.

“See look at this place we have WAY more privacy to talk here. The whole place is sound proof. I'll have Alfred order a pizza and we can start talking about real business.”

“No you have to explain first,” Noxious insisted.

“Explain what?”

“EVERYTHING!”

BP leaned back on the broken tailgate of the truck “Uhhh… So in the beginning there was nothing, then BAM than mars and stars and cows and shit.”

“How about first WHO’S ALFRED?”

“The butler.”

“You have a butler named Alfred?” Tranquill giggled.

“Yeah i thought it would be funny.”

“What would be?” Noxious asked, getting dizzy at all he's had to take in.

“To name my butler Alfred.”

“WAIT YOU NAMED A BUTLER?” Tranquill protested in sheer confusion.

“You guys have a hard time staying on topic.” BP guided them over to the rather homely couch and they each took a seat. “So missy. I'm gonna ask you again. How serious are you about being a criminal.”

The tone of the room became more serious all of a sudden.

“I would follow him wherever he goes. Seriously. Even into the bathroom.”

“She’s like a cat,” added Noxious.

BP interrupted them. “You need to quit your job.”

 Tranq looked at the ground for a moment. “But… My debts. I worked hard to get a job in my field.”

“And you'll never be worse off for it, you'll take those skills with you into whatever you do but do you really wanna be working an office job when the cops show up? You guys have to start living this, it ain't the kinda lifestyle someone does on the weekends. You gotta be done with the nine to five, done with the rented storage shack and done with the BS small time jobs. I want you guys to move your lair in here, i want you guys to start taking jobs with me and get yourselves a proper home. I want you guys to win on this and i'll help but if it's not what you want, what you truly desire, then you gotta walk away before someone gets hurt.”

“This is…. A lot.”

Noxious stepped forward. “My burden of fixing this world is not something i want dragged into.”

BP stood up to outmatch noxious in height if not determination. “You’re not going to get what you want without help.”

A moment went by. The two of them stood in a quiet stillness like an old western movie. The energy seemed aggressive but it felt more compassionate than that. Noxious knew that in this moment BP was not questioning his motive, but instead he's being forced to question it himself.

“I want to quit my job,” Tranquil broke the silence, “I want out of that stupid storage container. I want the neighbor girl to stop whistling when i wash the van. I WANT TO GET RID OF THE VAN! I HATE THE STUPID VAN!”

“I HATE THE VAN TOO!” Noxious matched her energy “I HATE THE STUPID SHIFTER KNOB! It has no button and my thumb sits on the side of it funny.”

“I hate my job. I hate my debt. “

“Even if the button didn't function, it should still be there.”

“I hate all of my co workers. All of them. There's not one redeemable thought made in that building all day. I hate work i hate school and i hate everyone. That’s why i'm here. I want to wreck this world not just live in it.”

“THIS IS WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT! LET'S KICK THE WORLD IN THE FACE!” BP grabbed a beer.

Noxious moved his hand in a ‘kinda’ gesture. “I'm more on the fixing it side… With gas.”

“YEAH let's tear down society!!!” Tranquill exclaimed.

“I'm like… Chaotic good if anything.”

“LET'S KICK LIFE IN THE BABY MAKER AND MAKE OUR OWN WAY!!!”

Noxious looked at both of them. “Screw it, burn the world down” he said as he reached down for a beer for him and Tranquill. They all clanked cans, BP and Tranq opened and chugged their beers. Noxious paused for a moment, then opened his beer, pulled up his mask and met their pace.

-----------------------supersecretspecialdeletedpatreonexclusivelike&subscribeOVENDING

“He was choking me man. He threatened me!”

“Who?”

“The little gas mask guy. The one from space 25.”

“Oh him. Leave em alone he just talks that way.”

“BUT HE THREATENED TO GAS ME!!”

“Out of everyone in this whole park he's the only one who visits my mom. No clue how they met but she loves the little guy. He's got a big heart. Since he's been around her depression is unnoticeable. She's baking more, laughing more. Seeing her happy and tasting her food again has lifted my spirits too. Leave him be, he makes people happy.”

[dark-unimaginably-stupid-kids]

December

Another drabble. This one is....more cathartic? So lets start with a big ol’ Authors Note:

So it’s come to my attention that the way I met my ex was very /Keith/ like and as such, I’ve come to notice a few more parallels SO....

The following is pretty much how it happened. Well, sans the express mentions of Keith sleeping with Regris and Lance sleeping with Jenny. But ya know. I had to stop eventually. I also didn’t get to fit in the rune readings or the making out in the car and bs-ed a couple things to make them more Lance and Keith--

And ya know, Lance would just be a better man. Sorry not sorry.

If you’re reading this Bright Eyes: why haven’t you deleted me yet? Like you have absolutely no business still following my writing. I’d block you if I wasn’t just morbidly amused by how long you must have to scroll to get through my gay boys, kthnx.

Also, Idk, I guess Keith handled his liquor better than I did.

@meli-reads-all Look I DID IT. We can do fighting for spots later, and maybe I’ll make some ridiculous little short about the blue eyed one too cause /fuck/ my ridiculous Keith-like meet cutes/background stories.

Anywho.

Klance. College AU I guess.

Drinking and smoking (Keith is an alcoholic because I am an alcoholic. -finger guns-)

Keith gets dragged out of his house under the promise of vodka. Ends up opening the door to a boy he really should have been nicer to because wow is Lance everything he ever wanted.

3.9k words

----

The first red flag of the night should have been Jenny’s pushiness. Keith had only hung out with her one time since they’d “become friends” in middle school and now they were taking two classes a semester at the local Uni (if any) and occasionally waved at each other in the hallways.

Hell, Keith hadn’t even done that in months given the shit time he’d had at school and his absolute lack of a desire to pursue any kind of degree.

He’d taken the fall semester off and was still mentally wording the letter to Shiro in his head about how he was going to drop out when Jenny had blown up his phone.

“You’re just being a hermit aren’t you!? Get dressed! I’m coming over!”

Keith eyed the texts and rolled his eyes. He glanced down at himself in his lose Spiderman top and his boxers and shrugged. He was plenty dressed.

“I’m bringing a friend!”

God damn it.

To hang out with an annoying girl he’d technically known for years? Pj top and boxers were fine.

To hang out with said girl and a total stranger?

Fuck.

Okay.

Pants then.

She lived nearby, so he dragged himself out of bed, paused his binge watch of the day (season 8 of Criminal Minds. It had been a while since he’d gone to catch up. They already had ten seasons on Netflix. It was gonna be a nice weekend if Jenny would just leave him alone.)

But then she was there.

Shaybon or whatever her stupid name was.

Keith’s roommate Pidge was out for the day, but she’d left the living room in a bit of a state so while Jenny made herself at home and introduced her friend, Keith tidied up.

Not that he cared about a strangers opinion of his home, but because he didn’t like strangers and it was better to focus on other things while people introduced themselves. The strangers name was Regris. Tall, dark, acceptable.

He watched Keith clean and smirked a lot. Like it amused him.

Keith didn’t really care. He hadn’t planned to entertain, he hadn’t wanted to. Jenny was being a fucking pain springing this on him.

Of course, she was vaguely well meaning? During that one outing they’d been on which was only about a month ago, Jenny had told Keith all about how she’d moved in with her boyfriend only for him to dump her and disappear to go fuck his ex on the same night. Keith had offered her some solidarity in that he was also recently heartbroken.

Though, a fuck buddy who was more buddy than fuck who suddenly decided to drop you for no apparent reason, was slightly lower priority than an actual live in boyfriend; it still hurt and Keith could still vaguely sympathize.

Hell, there was a reason he was binge watching Criminal Minds and wanted to be alone.

He missed Rolo, but what was he going to do? First Rolo didn’t want to fuck anymore, then he didn’t want to be friends, go figure, shit happens.

He’d been fun. And he’d helped Keith get out of his shell for a time. And he’d been comfortable and they always seemed to be on the same page. But you know.

Shit.

Keith had started developing feelings, as it happens when you actually enjoy someone’s presence who you’re also attracted to and have decent chemistry. He’d told Rolo, but he’d tried to explain the friendship mattered more. Keith loved the feeling of being alive far more than he even remotely liked Rolo in that way. And that was what Rolo gave him just by cracking a joke and making a room full of people keel over in laughter.

Rooms full of people.

Pleasant, fun things.

No one whispering no one judging.

Everyone was weird and at their own pace.

Keith missed it all so terribly.

But now all he has was fucking Jenny.

He went into his fridge, took out two beers and sat down at the kitchen table when he’d finished cleaning. Regris eyed the beer as if one was for him but Keith simply rolled his eyes. He opened the first one and downed it, then promptly opened the second one and turned to Jenny.

“So. What are we supposed to do now? Did you come here with a plan or are you two just going to watch Criminal Minds with me?”

It was Jenny’s turn to roll her eyes and she did so with a flourish to her friend. Regris in turn glanced at his phone and shrugged, “Well my friend is having a get together. Not far.”

Keith nodded, took a gulp of his beer, “Great, you two have fun.”

“Oh come on Keith! Don’t be that way!”

Keith stared at Jenny, took another swig, and waited.

Jenny eyed the bottle and finally came up with something that actually interested Keith. She knew this because Keith had made very clear what he’d been doing to cope since the loss of his university family. He was making it very clear now, bottle in hand.

And rather than attempt to dissuade him, she enabled him, “Regris, Thace has alcohol right?”

Keith’s eyebrow arched but he said nothing. Regris laughed, “Uh, yeah? Of course?”

“Probably more beer right?” Keith grumbled, he was almost done with the second bottle now and it was pretty gross. He didn’t like beer, but he’d finished the sweeter drinks earlier and these were left overs from when he used to have friends over, people who wanted to hang out with him and Rolo anyway.

“Well. There will be beer, yeah. But Thace is more of whiskey drinker.”

Keith thought about it. Whiskey had specific side effects in him. Best to avoid around generally attractive men. He was about to open his mouth to say he’d still prefer to pass when Jenny shot up, “Vodka! Tell him there will be vodka!”

Ah yes, because Keith had been drinking when he’d told her the story and she remembered what he’d ordered.

Regris seemed a bit surprised but shrugged it off, “Yeah? Of course he has vodka.”

Keith sighed and turned his attention from Jenny to Regris, “And I’ll be allowed to drink, this vodka, right?”

He scoffed, “Once you’re in the house all the booze is fair game. Thace is cool that way.”

Keith gave himself another moment to assess, considered the fact he’d finished his last bottle and was actually quietly craving the stuff. He also considered how Jenny would never let him hear the end of it if he said no.

“…Alright. But only for the vodka.”

Jenny practically bounced out of her seat and Regris shrugged, “Cool, I’m gonna take a smoke and we’ll head out then.”

Keith watched Regris step onto the porch, cigarette and lighter in hand, and turned back to Jenny, “This your rebound or something?”

The girl looked surprised and waved her hand, “Oh no. Reg and I have been friends for years. But he did say his friend Lo was gonna be there tonight and he might be juuuust my type.”

Keith stared at her for a long moment, sure to be as openly judgmental as possible, but she took it with a proud smile, “Don’t be jealous, maybe we’ll find you a distraction too!”

“Don’t count on it.”

---

Keith was in the middle of pouring his second mixed drink when someone knocked. Jenny was in the backyard, floating around and making friends. Regris was playing pool with Thace—who was a decent enough guy even if he did keep his absolutely beautiful darling huskie locked in the kitchen.

Honestly, Keith preferred the company of the dog.

He just didn’t have it in him to socialize with these people anymore. He wanted to drink and go home and not be in his mind by he time he went to sleep.

He finished a cherry liquor before he realized someone was knocking and sadly put his cup down. He turned and popped his head outside. Thace was sitting, waiting for his turn and chatting with two girls.

“Thace, someone’s here,” Keith said bluntly.

Thace didn’t even look up, “Cool, that’s probably him now,” He said to the girls, then he spoke louder for Keith, “Go open it.”

Keith stood there, “…It’s not my house.”

“So? It’s my friend, go open it?”

Keith could hear Jenny perk up from behind the pool table, “Is it Lo?”

Regris replied to her, clarifying that Lo was still very much on the other side of town.

“Then who is it?” Jenny pressed.

Thace chuckled, “We’ll know once Keith gets the door. Go on.”

Keith still didn’t move, “…It’s not my house. Who goes around strangers houses and opens doors to total—what?!”

“Just get it, it’s probably—” Thace was speaking to the nameless girls again and Jenny chose just then to laugh loudly at Keith’s antics.

With a disgruntled puff Keith turned back into the house, picked up his discarded vodka-cherry-who-remembers-what-else and sipped at it while he made his way to the door just as the questionable someone knocked again.

Keith held the cup with his teeth and fought with the door locks for a second before, by some miracle, finally managing to turn them the right way and pulling the door loose.

“Hey—” Started the stranger.

Keith took the cup out of his mouth and gave the guy at the door a once over, cup in hand and general annoyance rumbling into his generally poor attitude, he looked the stranger dead in his decidedly pretty blue eyes and with his own half lidded in boredom said, “And who the fuck are you supposed to be?”

It was almost comical, if Keith had been paying attention to the social cues. Because the man’s eyes widened and his jaw slackened but there was still the barest hint of an amused smile on his face.

“U-Uh… Leandro?”

“Leo?”

“Lee- Leandro—”

“Alejandro?”

“N-No, my name is—”

“I don’t care.”

Keith turned around and walked straight back the way he’d come, cup back to his lips, “Everyone’s outside I guess.” He said mostly to no one, maybe somewhat to the new guy.

When he made it to the sliding glass door again he announced to the group of strangers who were eagerly awaiting the arrival of their friend, “Some.. Alex or whatever is here.”

“It’s—”

Keith heard him stumble out again but Thace had beamed instead, “Lance! Glad you could make it!”

Keith blinked at the name, considered it, and shrugged. Lance actually wasn’t a bad name. Didn’t sound anything like Alejandro though. How’d that happen.

Oh well.

He went to his corner at the far end of the yard and decided to start nursing his drink. (Though by now, this was probably a bit late)

Especially when Jenny came and joined him, still on her first drink and already bumbling, “man you really do drink don’t you?”

Keith said nothing. She put her cup down in front of him and asked if he wanted to finish it for her. She’d made it too strong. He tried it an agreed, her being a lightweight, this wasn’t going to work out.

They traded drinks.

“So Lance is pretty cute isn’t he?” Jenny started, nudging Keith in the side on his lawn chair.

He glanced across the yard where Lance had joined on the pool game, and this time Keith really looked at him.

“I guess.” Keith mumbled. He was tan, and broad shouldered, and he had a nice smile and kind eyes. He was… almost too good. “He’s the kind of hot who probably knows it and so doesn’t actually expend any effort in meeting people.”

Jenny nudged him harder, some friendly kind of reprimand, “Oh come on Keith, don’t be like that. You’re telling me you’re not into him?”

Keith glanced at him again, watched him turn to face Regris, laugh at a joke.

“I’m not saying that.”

Because he absolutely was not saying that.

But.

“But it’s not like it matters. It’s not like he’d be into me even if I was inclined to wandering into that kind of hell again. It’s cool.”

She pouted her pretty pink lips and Keith rolled his eyes for the hundredth time that night, “Jen. How about you cut to the chase. Lo’s gonna be a no show so you want to go flirt with him. Go, it’s not like I called dibs or anything.”

Her pout stretched into a smile and she clapped him on the back, “Oh, you do know me don’t you!”

Within moments she had taken up residence on a bench beside Lance as he continued to stare straight ahead, probably watching the balls roll across the felt. Keith did too anyway, from the opposite side of the table.

Keith finished her drink without realizing and noticed she’d never even taken his.

His tasted better.

He finished that one too.

At some point during the evening someone very tall came in and took Lance’s spot in the game and Jenny’s attention.

Ah, the elusive Lo, Keith thought to himself, eyeing the guy who’d come in.

Now, Lo was also attractive, but somehow had thrown off less of a…presence.

It was strange.

But then, Keith was drunk.

So what did it matter?

He caught Lance’s eye across the table, noticed how the dark blue t-shirt was just a little tight on his shoulders and made Keith want to walk over and shove his face into the mans chest.

Ridiculous.

Drunk.

Had Jenny’s cup had whiskey? That would have been a problem.

Lance pat his hand down on the empty bench space beside him and nodded to Keith. Keith blinked at him, then at his two empty cups, then at his imaginary impulse control, and decided, “…why not.”

He stood up, probably a little shakily if he was honest, and wandered over to Lance before slumping into the seat he’d been offered, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

It was quiet save for the strangers talking and the snapping of a pool stick against ceramic.

“So your friend Jenny was telling me about you,” Lance started with a little bit of a smile. Something Keith had already seen plenty of so he was aware of the restraint in the expression.

“Was she now?”

“Yeah.”

“And yet you still asked me to sit with you.”

“Oh did I do that?”

“Oh did I read that wrong?”

“No.”

Keith didn’t miss a beat, “Then own it.”

Lance grinned, a severe degree less restraint in the show of teeth, “I wanted you to sit with me.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.”

Jenny came by, particularly chipper as things seemed to be going well with Lo who was standing to the side chatting with Thace and Regris while a few of the still unnamed strangers had separated into other groups around the yard.

“Do you smoke Lance?” Jenny asked. “I know Keith doesn’t so—”

Lance made a funny croaking noise, like Jenny had just made a bad joke and he was trying to humor her, “No. No. That’s just Reg.”

Keith decided to keep the little mental fanfare from playing in his face. He’d never kissed someone who smoked cigarettes, but he didn’t like the smell and wasn’t inclined to it.

Jenny was about to say something, tapping a pen on Lance’s shoulder (godddd those shoulders) when Regris and the other two vaguely named strangers called her over.

“I didn’t mean—Oh alright, you two keep talking, I’ll leave you alone.” She smiled and ran off to the other side of the yard with the guys.

She’d dropped her pen onto Lance’s lap.

Keith eyed it and before looking up at Lance who shrugged and was about to reach for it, put it on one of the tiny tables on either side of them, when Keith’s hand shout out first.

With the pen now at his disposal, he pulled off the cap with his teeth and grabbed Lance’s arm with his free hand, “I feel like drawing.”

That awkward amused grin was back on Lance’s face and Keith had no idea how to describe how that stupid smile, when registered for what it really was, did ridiculous things to his heart.

“You like to draw?” Lance offered.

Keith made a non-committal noise and started to pen little stars around the freckles on his arm.

“He loves it!” Jenny announced, running back over while the guys started to wander into the house. Neither Keith nor Lance seemed to notice or care that the yard was slowly emptying.

Keith was more distracted by the fingers lightly laying on his thigh as he drew down the man’s arm. Probably would have cared about the fact she was outing him like that otherwise.

“Here, I have a blue one too.” She grinned, “In case he wants an option.” She offered another pen to Lance who smiled good naturedly at her but otherwise didn’t move much for fear of disturbing the little doodle artist.

It was a few minutes later that Keith raised his head from his makeshift canvas and realized most of the yard was empty.

“Where is everyone?”

Lance looked just passed Keith’s head and let out a long slightly high pitched noise, “I… have no idea.”

“Should we go find them?”

“Do you want to?”

“…Not really.”

Lance huffed out a laugh through his nose and raised his hand up toward the yard light, just to see what Keith had drawn.

“Nice. Like a tattoo.”

“The crappiest pen tattoo. Yup.”

“Your turn?”

Keith blinked at him, then at the pen in Lance’s other hand and laughed outright, “Oh. You want to draw on me now?”

Lance arched an eyebrow, (a very nicely formed eyebrow too. But there was no way this guy went out and got them done, right?) “Well it’s only fair isn’t it?”

Keith scrunched up his face and looked thoughtfully up at the yard awning above their heads that was blocking the night sky from view.

“Who said I wanted to be fair.”

Lance laughed again and it made Keith wither in his seat a little, made him want to be compliant. Made him want to make the other happy.

Too much to drink. Probably. For sure. Right?

“Well!” Lance chuckled, “How about I only draw a little, and you can keep working on mine?”

Keith would have said yes regardless, so he offered Lance his hand, “Have at it.”

Lance drew stars too. Equipped with swirls of space dust and crude little ringed planets.

Keith added detail to his night sky, shading and adjusting the “sketch” here and there. Lance giggled occasionally, the pen apparently tickling his skin. Keith wasn’t ticklish, but he did like the way Lance’s palm pressed against his arm as he drew.

When they did eventually walk through the house in search of the rest of the party they didn’t find them. They went out to the front yard, to see if the cars were there, but all vehicles were accounted for.

Keith wasn’t sure what was going on, but Lance pieced it together when he noticed one of the cars had very dull music playing. The window tint made it difficult to see in the dark, but there were definitely people inside.

“That kind of smoking. Damn.” Lance scoffed, motioning toward the car.

Keith finally noticed it then and realized quite suddenly what Jenny had said earlier, “…She thinks I don’t smoke?”

Lance blinked at him. Keith blinked back and then offered him an awkward laugh, “You can forget I said that.”

“Sure.”

“So now what?”

Lance glanced at the packed car, shrugged his shoulder and then motioned for a car parked across the street, “Wanna listen to music?”

“Sure.”

Keith would later try to blame the alcohol for what happened next. When Lance took his hand and pulled him across the street, reaching into his pocket for his car keys. Lance didn’t get the chance to pull them out because Keith had tugged on his hand and turned him around to face him.

Keith stepped forward and Lance stepped back until his own car blocked him in.

Keith wrapped his arms around Lance’s neck, waiting for some kind of confirmation.

He got it in the form of Lance’s arms around his waist and a smile that was so very soft.

Hopeful.

An expression Keith remembered having worn himself, on occasion.

He probably wore it now.

Lance’s eyes were very pretty.

Calming.

Safe.

Lance was a stranger but somehow he was also… home.

These arms kept him stable, covered in little ink stars to match the ones on Keith’s own skin.

When he kissed Lance that night he’d blame it on the alcohol. He’d tell himself it was a one time thing. No big deal.

It wasn’t like Lance’s lips were the softest things he’d ever felt and that his warmth didn’t envelop him and take him somewhere so far away his problems felt so small. It wasn’t like standing there against the little blue sedan in the middle of the night was the closest Keith had ever been to whole.

He’ll tell himself, when they crawl into the car together and end up do nothing more than holding hands and listening to music and telling each other little anecdotes, that it meant nothing.

He’ll tell himself for weeks that he’d been an idiot to type his number into Lance’s phone, that Lance would get tired of him and that it just wouldn’t work out.

He’ll tell himself for months, when he has Lance in his arms almost nightly, that it’s not love.

It’s not love. It’s not love.

He’s not stupid enough to put himself through that again. No.

When Lance tells him how important he is, how special, how…

“God, Kitten, I knew you were mine the moment I saw you.”

It’s not…

“You’re joking right?”

“Okay, you’re right, my first thought was, “who the fuck am I? who the fuck are YOU?” But somewhere between you being a giant psycho and you telling everyone the wrong name I decided. This one. This one is definitely mine.”

“…”

“With your greasy mullet and your pajama top and your attitude.”

“…”

“Definitely all mine.”

Fuck.

“I think…”

“Yeah, Keith?”

“…I think it’s your turn to pick the show tonight.”

“Sure.”

....

.... .... ....

.... .... .... .... ....

When Keith does say he loves him it’s two cups in, Jenny’s number blowing up Lance’s phone, and from the comfort of Lance’s lap.

After the first half a dozen times he says it Lance kisses him so hard he can’t catch his breath. But he still says it hundreds of times that night. Desperate. Because the words really aren’t enough to convey what Lance really does to him. He cries the words against Lance’s lips time and time again. Says them into his neck when he’s buried his face there, trying to breath him in. Says them against his chest as if the closer proximity to his heart will mean something.

He says the stupid word so much it starts to sound synonymous to Lance’s name.

Lance doesn’t say them back.

Keith tells himself it’s because Lance is afraid of the same things he was. He’s afraid to feel things as strongly as Keith let himself that night. He tells himself that. Lance pursued him. Lance chose him. Lance wanted him.

Lance wouldn’t kiss him like that, hold him like that, make him feel like that if it didn’t mean something in the end.

That’s what he tells himself.

He doesn’t need the words. Because Lance’s actions speak for themselves.

And maybe this is the reality where Keith gets to be right.

And maybe this is the reality Jenny was just a being a good friend.

[fuzzballsheltiepants]

Back to the Start, part 8

All For the Game/The Foxhole Court, post-canon.  Memories keep coming back, and Neil can’t really be...real, can he?  And Katelyn’s kind of awesome.  Read it on AO3 if you choose.  Read Part 1.  Part 2.  Part 3.  Part 4.   Part 5.  Part 6.  Part 7.  Likes, comments, and reblogs really appreciated!

After Aaron and Katelyn left for the night, Neil found he couldn’t settle.  Andrew was out cold.  He pulled out his phone and stared at the black screen for a while; he felt a strong urge to see what the internet trolls were saying but knew it would only piss him off.  

Aaron had confirmed Neil’s suspicion.  Neil tried not to resent that Andrew would talk to Aaron and not to him; it wasn’t Aaron’s fault, or Andrew’s for that matter.  Or his.

He wandered down the hall to the deserted waiting area. The nurse at the desk gave him a quick smile then returned to his computer.  Neil clicked on his phone and pulled up his contact list.  Betsy Dobson was the first of the Bs.  It was just after nine; he thought she would still be up.  

She picked up on the second ring.  “Betsy, it’s Neil.”

“Neil!  This is an unexpected pleasure.”

“I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“Not at all, I was just having a cup of tea and reading a rather terrible novel.”  

Neil picked at a threadbare seam on the corner of the couch he had flopped down on and tried to think of what to say.  He didn’t really know what he expected Betsy to do from South Carolina.

“Neil?”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“Don’t hang up, Neil.  I’m guessing you’re calling because of something with Andrew.”

Neil pressed the fingers of his free hand into his eyes.  “He remembered Drake.”

There was a short pause.  “I’m sure that was very difficult for both of you.”

“What do you know about his…situation?”

“Just what David shared with me and what was on the news.”

“He doesn’t remember much of the past few years,” Neil gritted out.  “He doesn’t really remember me.”

The pause was longer this time.  “What do the doctors say?”

“They say he’s doing well.  They say this is ‘normal’ for this type of injury.”  He laughed without humor.  “I’m starting to understand why Andrew has grudges against certain words.”

“But you said he’s recovering memories.”

“Some, yeah.  Mostly the terrible ones, as far as I can tell.”

“Or perhaps those are the ones he can’t help but show.”  

Neil digested that.  “I just don’t understand how this works.  How can he remember Baltimore, but not really remember who I am?  I mean, he knows my name, he remembers hitting me with that racquet, but I’m not sure he remembers me.  Do you know what I mean?”

“I do.  Have you asked him?”

“No.”  

“Why not?”  

He could hear that she knew his answer in her tone.  Instead he asked, “Can’t you help him with recovering his memory?”

“Not really, no,” she said gently.  “I can help him process what he knows, and that may help in turn, but really it’s up to his brain.  On the plus side, we know what a formidable one he has.”

“I’m still not sure what’s going to happen when he’s released, anyway.  If he’s going to come back down with me or not.”

“Don’t forget that he has an excellent therapist there in Boston.  Depending on how long he’s hospitalized, and what the next step is, Dr. Isaac may be a better option.  Have you contacted him?”

“No,” Neil said, feeling like an idiot for the thousandth time that week.  “I don’t know how to.”

“I imagine his number is in Andrew’s phone.”  Right.  The phone still sitting in the stadium with all of his other stuff.  Neil wondered how he had forgotten about that.  

“How are you doing, Neil?  Not you-and-Andrew, but you.”  When he didn’t answer she added, “There’s a reason you called me rather than talking to his doctors.”

He just wanted everything back to the way it was.  A week ago he had been wrapped up with Andrew in their bed savoring the last of his break.  Just a week ago.  “I’m fine.”

She sighed.  “All right, is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No.”

“In that case, get some sleep.  Good night, Neil.”

He thought he thanked her before hanging up.  He hoped he had.  Pulling his fingers away from the loose threads on the couch, he dragged himself back to the room.

*****

The click of a door registered through the haze of sleep and Andrew snapped awake.  The room was oddly lit.  He blinked.  It wasn’t his room.  He blinked again.  There was an empty chair next to his bed and a window in the door.  He dragged himself out of the nightmare - or was it a memory?  Not that there was much of a difference.  All his nightmares were really memories.  

A few more blinks and he was back in the present.  He could hear subtle movement in the room then Neil appeared in his line of vision, furtively preparing for sleep.  Neil lowered himself slowly into the chair, then froze when he saw Andrew’s eyes on him.  “Sorry,” he whispered.  “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“How long was I out for?”

“Just a couple hours.  You can go back to sleep, I’m done making noise.”

But for once Andrew wasn’t sleepy.  Judging by the way Neil held his eyes once he was settled into the chair, neither was he.  “What.”

Neil blinked at him in confusion.  “What?”

“You’re staring.”

“I’m always staring.”

“Yeah but now you’re staring with a purpose.”

Neil looked away, fiddling with his hands.  “I hate this,” he said finally.  Andrew waited.  “I hate that you only remember the bad stuff.”

Andrew didn’t know how to respond to that.  Didn’t know how to tell him that he remembered other things - remembered bits and pieces of meals and drives and games and shared cigarettes on the roof, the weight of Neil’s mouth on his own and the feel of his skin, the sound of his hitches of breath.  Because none of that felt real.  None of that felt possible, despite the obvious evidence of it sitting curled up in a ball in the chair next to him.  

“Go to sleep, junkie,” he said, not totally sure where the nickname came from, and Neil’s eyes snapped back to his.  “It’s not all I remember.”  

The smile he received in reply was ridiculous, and he ignored it as he settled back in, tugging the blankets tighter around himself.  Just as he ignored Neil’s hand coming to rest on the edge of his bed, as it somehow always seemed to.  And if he woke up the next morning to find their finger tips slightly interlaced, he didn’t comment on it and neither did Neil.

The atmosphere in the hospital was different that day.  It seemed like suddenly everything that had been in slow-motion was at full speed.  He got wheeled off for another MRI first thing, and this time the noise-canceling headphones were enough that he didn’t need to vomit afterwards.  The lights were brighter and he walked for longer and they even let him have a magazine.  Neil disappeared to work out, with a laughing promise to try not to assault any reporters.  

Aaron and his girlfriend appeared just as Neil returned bearing a chocolate-filled croissant that he handed to Andrew without ceremony.  The girlfriend greeted Neil with a hug and handed him a bag full of stuff, and Andrew understood why Neil had warned him he wasn’t allowed to kill her.  Especially when she pecked Neil on the cheek when he took the bag.  Andrew glanced at Aaron, who rewarded him with an eye roll.  

The girlfriend chattered about New York and the stresses of anatomy lab while Neil showered.  Andrew wanted to tune her out but there was little else to hold his attention.  Though watching Aaron… Most of what Andrew remembered of Aaron was from before.  This was interesting, to say the least.

Then Neil came out of the bathroom and Andrew decided maybe he didn’t hate the girlfriend after all.   Not if she’d picked out those clothes.  Fuck.  He really didn’t know what was wrong with him.  Well, besides the whole skull-fracture-traumatic-brain-injury thing.  The doctors hadn’t mentioned this as a potential symptom.  Then again, given what memories his brain was dredging up, perhaps it was some pre-existing condition.  A manifestation of the bipolar, or something.  Because want was normal.  Want was biological.  He understood want, had since juvie.  But this was more like need.  And need was irrational.  Need was dangerous.  Need had led to the lines marring his forearms, to him breaking into houses and shops until he had finally been caught, to whatever had been left of his heart being destroyed.  

Aaron and the girlfriend were wedged into the chair together.  Neil stood near the foot of the bed, listening to the inane conversation as if it were important.  Andrew studied the long-healed scars on his face.  Abruptly, not caring about whatever nonsense he was interrupting, he asked, “How long ago did that happen?”  He gestured to his own face.  

The girlfriend made a remonstrative noise but Neil answered easily, “Almost four years ago.”  He gave Andrew a questioning look but Andrew just hummed in reply and Neil turned back to the girlfriend and asked a question, setting her off again.

Four years.  Four years since Andrew had been nearly torn apart by terror.  Four years since he had felt that anguished need that seemed so fresh in his memory.  And yet Neil was still here.

*****

Dr. Martin appeared with someone Neil believed to be an intern before Katelyn had petered out, so he didn’t get a chance to ask Andrew about getting his stuff from the stadium.  Her arrival essentially shoved Neil off to the side.  Andrew’s eyes followed him as found a new spot near the window.  Dr. Martin introduced herself to Aaron and Katelyn and reviewed all the medical stuff Neil already had heard.  They finished up with this morning’s scans, which showed resolution of the hematoma.

“It’s time to discuss the next steps in Andrew’s care,” Dr. Martin said.  Neil tried not to bristle at the way they focused all their attention on Aaron and spoke about Andrew like he wasn’t there.  “While he could be ready for discharge as soon as tomorrow, he will need ongoing assistance until he can manage on his own.  Now, it’s our understanding he lives alone here in Boston.”

“Yes,” Aaron said, and Neil’s fingers twitched.  He didn’t understand this shift in the dynamic.  He glanced at Andrew, whose eyes had a faint gleam that could have been amusement or irritation.  Likely both.

“Ideally, Andrew should go into a rehabilitation facility for a few weeks while we assess how well he can live on his own.”

“No,” Neil said, and everyone looked at him in surprise.  Everyone but Andrew, whose gleam intensified.  “He’s not going to some facility to have strangers looking after him.”

“I assure you, it’s a very good facility,” Dr. Martin said.

“No,” Neil said again.

“Neil,” Aaron warned.

“Easthaven was supposed to be a very good facility too, Aaron, in case you’ve forgotten.”  Aaron blanched and Andrew’s face went completely blank.  Neil wanted to kick himself but he plowed on.  “Andrew, I told you before.  You can come back to PSU with me if you want.  Otherwise, we can find another solution for you to stay here.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Josten,” Dr. Martin said, “you have no input into this.”

The ground dropped from beneath Neil’s feet.  “What?”

“You have no legal say.  You’re not married and you have no legal domestic partnership.  We have been making an exception for you, allowing you to stay here, but this is not your decision.”

“Is it not Andrew’s either?”  He turned to Andrew.  “Because as far as I can tell they don’t seem to care about your opinion.”

“Mr. Josten.”  Dr. Martin’s voice was calm, sympathetic, but firm.  “Aaron is Andrew’s legal next of kin.  They will decide the next steps together with us.  We must ask you to respect this conversation.”

“I can’t believe this.”  Neil thought he was going to vomit.  He looked between the twins.  Aaron’s expression was wary; Andrew’s held just a hint of black anger, and Neil didn’t know who that was directed at.  “We have resources in South Carolina.  We have Abby and Betsy, and the medical center’s right there.  Surely that’s better than staying with people you don’t know.”

“Mr. Josten, I’m going to ask you to leave.”

Katelyn stood and put her hand on Neil’s arm.  “I shouldn’t be here either,” she said gently.  “Come on, Neil.  We can wait down the hall.”  He looked once more to Andrew, but he made no move to ask him to stay, so Neil let Katelyn guide him away.

Out in the waiting room he couldn’t settle, couldn’t sit.  He felt that urge to run that had long been dormant but would never truly die.  Katelyn was quiet, for once; she had murmured apologies the whole way down the hall, then fallen silent as soon as she dropped onto one of the couches.  It was the one with the threadbare corner, Neil noticed idly.  He hooked his hands behind his neck but it wasn’t the same as Andrew’s grip, it held no gravity for him.

“Neil,” Katelyn said gently.  “Come and sit.”  He shook his head and walked the length of the room, noting the handful of other people scattered over seats.  One woman held a string of beads with a cross at the end, her lips moving silently.  A man wept over in one corner and Neil wondered in what way his world had just ended.  Two older people clutched each other’s hands and stared at the floor.  He turned and walked back.  

Katelyn joined him when he reached her.  “They shouldn’t have done that,” she whispered and there were tears in her eye.  Neil wondered why.  “Maybe we shouldn’t have come.  If we’d known…”

“I’m going to go for a walk,” Neil said.  

“Don’t,” Katelyn pleaded.  “Don’t go, Andrew will want you here when they’re done.”

Neil gave what might’ve passed for a laugh.  “Do you think if Andrew cared he would’ve let them kick me out in the first place?”  Katelyn shrugged helplessly.  “It’s not the same.  He doesn’t remember.”

“I don’t know, Neil.  I’ve never understood what motivates him.  All I know is whatever he remembers, he looks at you the same way.”

“What way is that?”

“I don’t know…like the world begins with you.”  Neil turned away to pace again and she sighed.  “Do you have your phone?”  He reflexively checked his pockets and nodded when he felt it.  “I’ll text when they’re done.”  He nodded again and shoved through the door, running before he even reached the stairs.

[groovy-hottub-llama]

Fatherhood, Pt.3

Pairing: KakaSaku (It’s kinda backgroundy/alluded to) Rating: Fluff Warnings: There’s a healthy dose of salt here, and child neglect but mostly the FLUFFIEST FLUFF. Sarada is an angry, slightly taller, ball of angst. This is also the longest ofhte chapters, and includes suggestions of S|S.

Additional note: This fic is not canon compliant. I’ll warn folk now, that I am not watching/reading the new ‘Boruto’ as it’s BS. <~ personal feelings here, each to their own and all that. The characters in this fic are portrayed loosely as from what I saw from the last chapter of Naruto and no further.

When the man people had called her father had returned everyone had expected her to be ecstatic, to be beyond joy. But the first thing the man did, as a wonderful follow up to trying to murder her in the woods upon their first meeting, was to request to personally instruct Naruto's son.

Instead of anger, she'd been relieved. This way, she could continue with her plan, the plan that had began all those years ago when she was twelve years old and sitting on a swing with advice from someone who really cared about her that didn't tell her what she should do because of her name, but gave her options because of who she was.

With Sasuke set on ignoring herself and her mother and instructing Boruto she felt confident enough to ask her mother to teach her how to be a medic. Sakura umm'd and ahh'd, and tried desperately to get her to ask her 'father' for training.

Sarada, who had been fed up with the term for as long as she could remember had blinked innocently and said,

"Kakashi-tou? I'm sure he'd have the time, but it's medicine I want to learn, and I don't think he has the knowledge to impart that I'm looking to gain."

Sakura had turned scarlet and stuttered terribly.

"G-go to your room young lady!"

She'd skipped off having made her point. If anyone was going to tell her to 'ask her father' ever again, she'd just refer the the Rokudaime, because in all honesty he was the one who'd been there when it counted, and he was still there when she needed him. When she got up to her room she dropped face down onto her bed and sighed loudly, the sheets muffling the sound. She thought about going to find him. If she asked, he'd very likely back her up. Everyone knew how stubborn her mother could be, but a part of her thought that he'd probably tell her that if it was something she really wanted, she'd have to do this for herself. She grumbled and kicked her feet in frustration.

She dragged a small medical journal out from under her pillow and worked her way through her mothers notes. The journal had been Sakura's when she had been 15 years old and already a firm apprentice of the Godaime. She loved granny Tsunade, and if her mother wouldn't teacher her, then maybe granny Tsunade could get her started? Or maybe Aunty Shizune?

She folded the book and huffed. There was a lot of stuff in there she didn't understand, but her mother had been three years older and had been apprenticed to granny Tsunade for at least three years by the time she'd filled the journal.

No. She wanted to learn from the best medic in Kohona who wasn't deservedly retired from her years of impressive service. She wanted to learn from her mother, from Sakura Haruno.

That man wasn't interested in teaching her, but her mother could.

Sarada sat up and steeled her resolve. No. It wasn't the time to sit on her bed and sulk, nor was she going to let her mother waste her time mooning after someone who didn't care for her time when Sarada was right here asking for it.

She got up and was about to tuck the journal away, but decided against it. Instead she clutched it to her chest and made her way back down stairs and waited cautiously by the kitchen door. Her mother was in the kitchen, sitting on one of the chairs with her head in her hands.

"Mom?" She said quietly. Her mother shook her self off and turned to look at her.

"I'm sorry my love, come here." Sakura held open her arms and Sarada gladly went into her embrace. She giggled when Sakura squeezed a little too hard.

"Sorry, you're just so, so cute." Sarada laughed when her mother patted her cheeks, then she noticed the journal. She looked at Sarada questioningly and Sarada beamed and held her treasure up.

"I wasn't trying to be a pain, mom, I just want to be who I want to be." Her mother nodded and Sarada felt more confident.

"I don't want to fight people, or hurt them. I want to help them. Please teach me how?"

Whatever reply Sarada was expecting from her mother, was not the explosion of tears, or the stifling embrace.

"Oh darling, I know I've been distant lately, I'm sorry."

Sarada submitted to her mothers iron grasp with a smile.

'So, will you teach me?" She asked again, when her mother had finally released her grip. Sakura frowned, which Sarada recognised as one of the first signs of a 'no' coming on. She remembered the face that Aunt Ino taught her and turned it towards her mother with as much feeling as she could muster.

"Remember my young apprentice," Aunt Ino had crowed, "the pout on it's own is powerless without brimming tears or a flush to your cheeks. Your eyes have to been shining intensely, your lip turned just so and your skin only ever so slightly pink. Don't let the tears fall unless they're extremely resilient, at that point, back off, defeated. Then you let the tears come, show how deeply disappointed you are, but be contrite. Apologise to them for being such a nuisance and then REEL 'EM IN."

Sarada knew she was probably piling it on a bit thick with the wobbling lower lip too, but she really, really wanted this.

With a sigh her mother relented and Sarada beamed in pleasure.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

As the Chuunin exams now had an age restriction of 17, Sarada had honestly felt cheated that she'd been stuck in what was now known as Team Trainwreck for the past five years. Boruto was more out of control than ever, and thanks to Sasuke Uchiha, now that idiot was a dangerous weapon with less direction than he had to begin with. Mitsuki conversely, had spent the last five years getting as much experience under his belt from as many jounin who would give him the time of day. They'd bonded. She might even dare call him a friend now.

She understood where he came from, they had similar 'father' issues, except Mitsuki's father issues were more along the lines of 'I will murder him, free his experiments and hunt down his followers so that his work will never blight our world again'. Hers was more 'ignore the man who sired her and make her disgust known for him at every available opportunity'.

Granted, that had been a lot easier and a lot more acceptable when, two years prior, Sakura had finally filed for divorce when Sasuke had cornered Sarara one day in the hospital during her practical training and asked her if she was going to continue with 'this pointless specialisation' and then had inquired as to how she felt about Boruto.

Sarada was horrified. Here she was, working hard on her dream towards becoming a medic as brilliant as her mother, as the brilliant as the Fifth Hokage herself, and there was her father. He wasn't there to finally show his support, or at the very least ask her how she was getting along with her choices.

No. He was there to check on her love life, assuming her availability, and not because he was concerned about her. He'd been concerned for Boruto's unrequited affections.

Sarada grimaced and had suddenly become overwhelmed with nausea. Why on earth was he so interested in her love life? He hadn't even been interested in his own!

Looking back she could admit that despite it all, when she'd seen her father in the hospital that day, without prompting from her mother, or in the company of Boruto, she'd thought he'd finally taken an interest her, in her life and choices. She thought that maybe, despite the animosity of the last few years he'd realised that he'd been remiss in avoiding her and favouring others.

To her shame, she'd even thought that if he was there to make amends, if he was there to finally be the father she had wanted him to be all those years ago, then maybe she could forgive him.

Instead she'd been sorely disappointed. His words had become a blur as she realised he had never come for her, he'd not cared enough about how she felt to even ask if she already had someone she was interested in. Sarada had dismissed him with a more intense dose of her usual scorn and had disappeared into one of the cleaning closets to have a good, long cry.

Her mother had discovered her missing and, not unlike her predecessor, had stormed around the hospital demanding to know why Sarada's shift had been covered by another medic. She'd found Sarada sobbing in a cupboard. At first, her mother had attributed it to the stress of working such a demanding role in the hospital for the first time, and had let her daughter know how disappointed she was that she hadn't stepped up to the mark like she'd expected her to.

Then Sarada had told her what happened and her mother had held her close in silence, rocking her gently and telling her that everything was going to be ok.

Sakura could endure a lot, she had endured a lot. But when her husband had tried to tell her daughter that her choices were wrong, and that he suddenly had an interest in arranging a marriage for her, when he hadn't so much as had dinner with them for the three years he'd been back in Konoha, then she drew the line.

And what a line she'd drawn.

Shizune had been called in to fill in for Sakura while she escorted her daughter to her parents house and then she'd headed out to look for her husband.

She'd found him in the main street eating ramen with Naruto and Boruto and had asked for a word. Sasuke had ignored her. Naruto caught the look on her face and put his bowl back down. He'd then snagged Boruto by his collar and dragged him off to give the couple their privacy.

"I'd like to discuss what you said to our daughter?" She asked in a controlled, brisk tone. Sasuke, unwisely had decided to reply.

"My daughter is-"

"-I'm going to stop you right there."

If he'd been surprised by her cutting him off he didn't show it; Sasuke had remained silent, and waited for her response with indifference. Sakura saw his indifference and blinked in disbelief.

"I asked you, what it was that you said to our daughter. Not yours, not mine, like she's a thing. So I'm going to ask you again, and I want you to talk to me like I'm your wife, Sasuke, not like you're giving me a mission report!"

Sasuke didn't so much as twitch, nor show any other reaction to her emotional pleas. Instead, just like before, he squared her with a blank stare and offered his explanation neutrally.

"I asked her when she was going to finish her temporary placement at the hospital, and when she'd be available to discuss a potential match."

For a long while Sakura just studied him. She looked for any possible change or shift that would belie his words as a joke, or a misunderstanding. There was none. It was just as her daughter had said. She took a steadying breath and ploughed on.

"What possessed you to think you had any right to start a marriage negotiation, of all things, without consulting me?"

Sakura had stared at him pleadingly. She hoped that even though her relationship with him was practically non-existent, he'd surely consider it from a logical point of view. She was Sarada's mother, she knew her personality. If Sasuke felt the need to arrange a marriage, then surely her input would be invaluable to helping Sarada find happiness. Sakura didn't know enough about the marriage practices of the Uchiha clan to question him. He had never spoken to her about any of the cultural history of his people so she had nothing to go on, but even with this in mind, she still respected that his clan was different to her family.

He sighed and regarded her with a cool stare, that at any other moment might have inspired Sakura to sigh wistfully and wonder at his handsome face. Any other moment was a long time in the past. Now when she regarded him, he seemed tired. Tired of her or life or just that day in particular she never knew, because she'd asked so many times before and he'd never answered her.

"I am her father, and the continuance of the Uchiha Line is my concern."

In her mind, Sakura completed the sentence 'and not yours'. Something froze inside her, and then shattered. Like an ebbing tide that had turned suddenly a wave of anger rose up and crashed down over her.

"Your concern?" Sakura suddenly spat. Sasuke's eyebrows raised in surprise. Good. Let him be surprised.

"Your concern ended the day she was born." She snarled it out, recalling the years she'd sat alone in a huge house with a crying child and no one there to share her burdens, "your concern? For the 'Uchiha Line?"

Sakura threw her head back and laughed bitterly.

"What's Sarada's favourite colour?"

"What's her favorite outfit?"

"What does she like to eat when she's having a bad day?"

"Who's her best friend?"

He remained silent and Sakura's heart clenched painfully for her daughter. She looked for one last shred of hope, in something she knew was important to the Uchiha, if only because she recalled his use of it in their Genin days together.

"Do you know that Sarada learned how to use the Gōkakyū no Jutsu?"

His attention perked up, but he was frowning.

"When did she learn that?"

Sakura was confused, surely he knew?

His frown remained and he asked her another, damning question.

"Where did she learn it?"

Sakura was silent. He really hadn't paid any attention to Sarada at all. Her shoulders dropped and she raised her hands to cover her face, holding in the grief that now she truly knew he'd not been there for Sarada.

"Who taught her that Sakura?" His tone was sharp, a reprimand.

Like he was speaking to a subordinate.

With sudden clarity she remembered who. She remembered who had been there. And not just for Sarada, but for her. On long nights after heart breaking shifts at the hospital, there'd be a hot meal waiting, even if there wasn't always the company. On days that brought tears to her eyes just recalling, when she'd missed her own daughters first day at the academy and worse still, her Genin graduation, he'd been there. Even just a month back, on Sarada's 15th birthday, he had come over, with a lopsided cake and a jutsu just for Sarada.

Sakura sniffled and looked at the man who was her husband in name only and grieved for a life she could have had and the sobering thought that he wasn't the only one to blame. What if she'd realised this sooner? The was so much regret, and yet no going back, no fixing it now.

"Does it matter?" She said instead.

Sasuke chose not to reply. He turned his back on her and walked away.

"I expect to see Sarada tomorrow morning in the third training ground."

Anger sparked in her, hot and savage.

"Don't you walk away from me Sasuke Uchiha, we are not finished talking."

He paused at her declaration, but shrugged and answered her flippantly.

"This conversation is over."

"No, Sasuke," Sakura finally broke, angry tears spilling down her cheeks, "this marriage is over."

In that moment Sakura hoped, with every shred of will in her body, that Sasuke would turn around, say something, anything. He did not. He merely walked away. Something twisted in Sakura at that moment. Maybe it'd been the nonchalance with which he'd regarded the end of their marriage, or the reminder that he yet again regarded her abilities as something he could turn his back on, she wasn't sure.

Before Sakura even realised what she was doing, chakra was flooding her system in a white hot rage and her fist was hitting the floor. The earth shuddered and split leaving a great chasm starting at her feet and ending several meters after Sasukes.

According to witnesses, it took him an hour to work his way out of the chasm, having been caught by the jagged edge of a rock halfway down the chasm in such a way that he was unable to get purchase on the rock with his one remaining hand.

That evening she'd filed the divorce papers and by morning she was a Haruno once more.

That crack was still in the main street of the village to date from where Sarada's mother had finally put her foot down. Someone had thought it a fun idea to fill it with a transparent, yet hard substance from Suna, immortalising Sakura's righteous anger.

Sarada walked along it every day. It'd become quite the tourist attraction.

Well pleased, Sarada had been known as 'Sarada Haruno' not long after the divorce papers had been signed. She'd been so overjoyed she'd cried. It finally felt like she was free of him. Chou Chou helped her celebrate the moment by taking her back to her mothers where Karui had winked at her conspirationally and pulled out a series of bottles.

"Let's celebrate with a bang, eh doll?" She'd grinned, and Chou Chou had cheered and picked out a bottle.

"Girl you are gonna look ah-may-ZING."

Sakura had nearly had a heart attack when Sarada had walked in that evening with pastel pink hair and grin stretching from ear to ear, but she hadn't complained, nor had she told her to change it back.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Today was her chunnin exam, and, just as the Kaka-tou had said, she'd survived. If she passed here, she could leave the team and truly go her own way. She walked into the great hall, found her ID number on the chair and sat down confidently. She had this, no problem.

Except.

"Hey. Sarada! Hey!"

This was NOT happening.

"Psst! Hey, guess who."

Sarada firmly kept her mouth shut. Exam conditions were in place the moment they'd stepped in here. She raised her hand and an invigilator with a senbon held just-so in his teeth stepped over. She kept a straight face, but her heart leapt when she saw who it was.

"Is there a problem, Miss Haruno?" Genma asked quietly. Sarada shot through a series of handsigns, in a language she'd learned under a desk when she was seven years old, and had continued to learn over the family dinner table. He raised his eyebrows, but that was the extent of his surprise.

Genma then took up a stance behind Boruto's chair and leaned down to remind him what the rules were in the exam hall and Sarada listened to the following silence with deep appreciation.

Kaka-tou to the rescue again.

The exam paper was a breeze, so much so that she had it finished with time to spare. Just as she picked it up to read through her answers again, a small ball of paper hit her in the back of the neck.

Oh he was not doing this now. Not when she had to check she'd got things right, not when she might have time to catch a disaster on her paper and fix it. No way.

Another hit her and landed on the table.

She pointedly ignored it. Not even to flick it off the table.

Then she realised if she was caught with it on there, and it had anything on it, she risked being disqualified. She covered it with a hand just as Genma breezed past. She swallowed. That'd been close.

She waited a moment, lifted her pen up and used the flat reflective surface of the clip on her pen to discern where both Genma was and what Boruto was up to. He was busily rolling up another note, so she flicked the other one back onto his desk discreetly.

He noticed and looked up at her with a grin. She rolled her eyes. He had noticed the pen. She twirled it as though in thought when another invigilator walked past.

Boruto eagerly opened up the note, to find nothing but his own words. He frowned, then glared back up at her and made eye contact with her using her pens clip, mouthing obscenities and asking why she wouldn't help him.

With a quick glance around she grinned viciously.

For a moment she thought that maybe it was a bad idea, after all, she'd want a fair chance at doing this, he should be given the benefit of the doubt too.

But then she remembered five long years of Team Trainwreck.

Team Trainwreck who had assumed she'd always make lunch for missions.

Or Konohamaru-Sensei who had told her that days training had been cancelled because her team mates were doing 'independent study'.

Or Boruto who expected her to patch him after every stupid mistake, and then complained when she was too exhausted to keep up on the trip home.

Nope.

Time for vengeance.

She caught his eye for a single moment, with a slow and sinister red eye. Tomoe span lazily and Boruto stared into space for the rest of the exam.

She nodded and offered up another mental 'thanks' to Kaka-tou.

With a glance up at the clock she noted she had just enough time to read through quickly so she returned to her paper and started re-reading it. With a frown she realised she'd done one of the trajectory of projectile weapons questions wrong and scribbled away furiously to correct it. By the time she'd finished re-calculating she'd ran out of time to check the rest of the paper, but felt confident enough that she'd pass this stage.

The invigilators called the end of the exam and a groan echoed around the room.

Sarada rolled her eyes, part of the chuunin written exam was time management, if they couldn't get their timing right in a controlled environment, how could they prove they were capable of doing it in the field?

Genma raised a hand and the rows began to stand, leaving their papers on their tables with their name, number and team on the front sheet. She made a point of keeping her eyes on her paper as she rose, moved away and left, because Boruto had managed to snap out of the genjutsu and was glaring at her with serious venom. She wouldn't have put it past him to try and switch them as he passed by. More fool him if he did though, as she'd had the foresight to write her name and number on every page.

When he didn't and he just kept coming for her she ducked into the crowd, hunted around and ended up grasping onto a familiar manicured hand.

"Hey Sarry! That exam was hard! I need a drink, wanna join me? 'Course you do!"

Sarada beamed as Chou chou held out an arm and marched her way through the crowd that parted like she owned the place. They passed out of the academy grounds and moved down towards the main street. On their way Chou chou caught sight of her mother and father walking down the road hand in hand. Chou chou turned and winked at her and then bellowed out-

"Treat your wife, Daddy!"

Several heads turned, including her parents who laughed and looked at one another. Chouji leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on Karui's smiling cheek and the two carried on. Chou chou pointed at the two of them with her thumb.

"Relationship goals right there."

"Yeah, you're really lucky Chou chou." Sarada said wistfully.

"Nope, they're really lucky. I'll be that lucky when I find my someone." Chou chou turned to her and then glanced over her shoulder at the crowds.

"Still looking?" Sarada turned around herself, expecting someone to pop out of no where and make their way over. Chou chou shrugged and tugged her back into walking.

"It is fate, Sarry, it'll happen when it happens. You can't force love."

Sarada turned to her with a self-depreciating smile.

"At least you have a good example."

Chou chou raised a delicate eyebrow and frowned. She made to open her mouth but then decided to hold onto what she was thinking as they'd made it to Yakiniku Q and when the owner waved them in she all but dragged Sarada over to the corner and dumped her down in a seat before taking her own.

The brown haired girl waved to the owner and indicated with two fingers their order then turned to her friend and fixed her with a bored look.

"Sarada, your parents suck."

Sarada glowered and made to defend her mother but Chou chou held up a hand.

"Your dad's selfish and your mom spent a lot of her time catering to that. There was no give and all take."

Sarada slumped back.

"I know, you don't have to tell me twice." She leaned back and slumped in the seat, staring at the ceiling and wishing it'd fall on her head. Maybe it'd give her amnesia and she could conveniently forget about having a deadbeat for a biological parent.

Chou chou smacked the table with her hand to get Sarada to focus on her again.

"Your parents are an excellent example of what not to do in a relationship. Also, your mom is a perfect example of getting her fine self back out there."

Sarada laughed and then groaned, covering her face to hide her embarrassment.

Her friend grinned and turned to take their order from the waitress who'd brought over two large trays. The waitress then hurried off to collect the rest of the order and returned with a large jug of juice and two tall glasses.

Chou chou busied herself with picking up the meat with her own pair of chopsticks that she pulled from seemingly no where, and flicked the choice cuts onto the hotplate with practiced ease. Grudgingly she also added a few vegetables and then turned her attention back to her friend.

"Your mom might have made some poor decisions when it came to love, Sarry, but she got it right in the end."

Sarada grinned fondly and thought that maybe, just maybe there might be a little hope for her too.

"Thanks Cho, I mean it."

Chou chou turned the meat over and smirked.

"I know you do," she paused and then smirked at her, "and what am I?"

Sarada laughed and answered honestly "the best damn friend I'll ever have."

The taller girl chuckled and began to fill her plate. Sarada followed suit after Chou chou had chosen hers and then poured herself and her friend a drink. They toasted each other and then downed their glasses whole, keeping their eyes locked.

Sarada gasped and couldn't finish her drink and put it back on the table half finished. Chou chou placed her glass back on the table gently and flicked her hair.

"Undisputed champion."

Sarada raised her glass.

"I'll drink to that!"

Sarada picked up her first bite and just put it in her mouth when Boruto stormed into the restaurant and almost made her choke on her food.

"Hey! You cost me the exam!"

Sarada turned a disgusted glare his way.

"If something so simple could make you fail your exam, then you aren't ready to be a chunnin. I did you a favour."

Chou chou's face bunched up in surprised glee.

"You can't be serious!" She giggled at Boruto, who was turning red in the face. "That test wasn't hard at all!"

Sarada held up a fist and Chou chou bumped it.

"We slayed it." They said together and flashed a peace sign each at the blond.

"What is your problem Sarada? We're on the same team!" Boruto yelled. Other customers glared or rolled their eyes. The waitress nervously approached.

"Oh!" Sarada feigned surprise. "I'm part of the team now am I?"

Boruto groaned and pointed at her.

"Look just because your dad wanted to train me instead of you it's not my fault."

The pink haired young woman examined her nails and presented them to her friend, who made a noise of approval.

"Are you listening to me!?" Boruto demanded, "you're on my team, so when the exams come you're supposed to help me, not screw me over!"

Sarada stood up and walked over to him, then she jabbed a chakra laced finger into his chest. He stumbled back a few paces and looked for all the world like he had no idea what he'd done to deserve such treatment.

"The old chuunin exams were like that. You were supposed to cheat. The New Chuunin exams are next level. If you can't do it by yourself, then you aren't safe to be out in the field-"

"-I'm strong! Of course I'm fine in the field, you know I am, you've seen me."

Sarada stalked forward and raised the same finger again threateningly, the waitress looked relieved as Sarada followed Boruto's retreat out of the restaurant.

"Fine in the field?" She spat, oblivious to the crowd that was growing around them, "I spent most of our Genin years patching up your sorry ass for NO THANKS. And you have the nerve to tell me I should be helping you? When did you help me?"

Boruto stood up to his full height and towered over Sarada, glaring down at her. Chou chou took up a prime spot on the sidelines and held a slice of grilled beef on the tips of her chopsticks.

"Not all of us were blessed with our fathers gifts, some of us had to work for it." He sneered. The beef dropped back into the bowl and Chou chou shook her head at the blond youth.

"Wrong thing to say there golden boy." Chou chou muttered in warning.

Sarada smiled and Boruto instinctively stepped back.

"My biological father," she took a step forward to close the gap, "gave my mother nothing but the genetic material required to fertilise the egg that became me." Boruto grimaced at the description and unwillingly took another step back.

"Sasuke Uchiha wouldn't know what a father was, if his own father crawled out of his grave and disowned him for being a disgraceful parent," she continued, rage guiding her steps.

"The only father I've got, the only one I acknowledge, is proud of me, not because I have an Uchiha's eyes," she caught up to him before he could back away, snarling her fingers into the fabric of his orange and black armored vest, "but because I decided to follow in the footsteps of a person far more impressive than the ghosts of a clan long dead," Sarada yanked him down to her eye-level with a snap of her wrist.

"So don't you ever say I haven't worked damn hard to be damned good at what I do, because every step of the way I've been told I should be an Uchiha, when I'm a GOD DAMNED HARUNO."

With that she released him and raised a delicate gloved hand and flicked him squarely in the centre of the leaf of his hitai-ate and left him flat on his ass in the street. With a sharp turn of the heel she marched back into Yakiniku Q and sat back at their table. Chou chou followed and sat down, nodded her approval of Sarada's win and took up her bowl again for another serving.

"So," Chou chou began, after she'd finished her bowl in the stewing silence of Sarada's anger, "wanna go back to my mom's for a pedicure?"

Sarada leaned to the side and glanced at her toes that she wiggled at herself thoughtfully.

"Or," she added conspirationally, "We could go and watch Kouta and Mitsuki spar down on field 2 again?"

She laughed and poked her friend, giving her a sly look.

"I know you just want to brush Aomaru."

The taller girl huffed and then looked hopeful.

"Do you think he'd let me? Oh he's got the most beautiful coat of any dog I've ever seen, and he's got such blue eyes. Do you think Kouta will miss him?" Chou chou glanced at Sarada with a grin, Sarada, noticing the quirk at the corner of her friends painted lips sighed with the knowledge they were going on another odd adventure.

Both girls put up their hands for the bill and then laughed at each other. The waitress stepped over with a small book to sign instead and Chou chou snatched it before Sarada with a cry of triumph.

"Todays on me skinny!" She said, signing in the Akimichi Tab with a flourish. "Let's go steal me a pooch!"

Sarada grinned. Whatever the outcome of the exam, she was glad she'd made it this far, and even if she spent the rest of her days between the hospital and trying to steal dogs with Chou chou, she'd not change it for the world.

[overhere-series]

Over Here: Chapter Five

Having a buffer is so lovely. Here you go! Next chapter goes up this coming Saturday if I remember among all of the laptop and self-care shenanigans that day. Love you folks!

Do let me know how you think things are going or share if you enjoyed it enough!

Marcy Faust takes both travelers by the hands and drags them toward the path, Hazel and her brother close behind. She makes her siblings look downright anti-social, twittering about how much they’ll like the kid’s mom and their food and every single detail about her and Mason’s day prior to finding the hole. The only thing keeping Cass from clamping a hand over the girl’s mouth is the thought of Hazel going bear over it.

Besides, Marcy’s story takes on manic speed when they come to the half-withered horse thing and its voice. “And Mason and me weren’t scared yet until we got under and it was so pretty with all the metal and Over There things everywhere but we did get scared when it got asking for our names, because we know what the stories say but it kept asking and asking and got scarier- but I was smart! I told Mason ‘don’t you tell’ and then you came and-”

“Breathe, Marce,” Hazel says.

“You were very wise to hold onto your names,” Winston assures. “And courageous, especially when a fragment requests them.”

The smile he offers only encourages Marcy to take one on, too. “Yeah! I told Mason not to say my name or his name, because I heard from my aunt you can lose your name if someone else gives it away-”

“Not possible, I’m afraid. You can only give away your own name, never another’s.”

Cass blinks but continues on. Already the list grows longer and longer for all the questions she’s got, but it’s all she can do on their walk to hide the tick in her jaw and the stiff steps to help her knee.

When they arrive the Fausts lead them to a private kitchen upstairs, the one in their home above the restaurant. It’s all tapestries and wall to wall cupboards, small and cozy and definitely better than the dining room below. They’re told to wait and then left be at a table in the center.

At the Fausts’ retreating backs, Cass eases into her chair. Her knee thanks her for it. Now seated and idle, though, Winston twitches, raking his hands through his hair, drumming his long fingers on the tabletop. Cass squeezes her eyes shut to ignore it, but eventually the tap-tap-tap of his nails and the bounce of the vase acting centerpiece grates on her ears.

“You wanna cut that out?”

“We need to be going and-”

Cass kicks back in her chair, arms folded. “Oh yeah, you really wanted to get out of here when you signed us up for this,” she mutters, throwing a wave over the room. She tries to keep her voice down but keeping her tone to a raspy half-yell takes more effort than she’s got left.

“That’s different,” Winston says.

“I don’t know, I didn’t get any input when you decided to play hero. Guess we’re even for that now, right?”

“Cass, this isn’t-”

“Except for you trying to sell me to a freaking monster back there. Want to explain that one to me, birdbrain?”

Winston quits drumming on the table. “Yes, that. My apologies, but I had to think quickly, you see. You should have come with me from the start,” he says. “The plan might have worked better, actually, though it’s amazing enough to believe the fragment fell for the scheme as it was. With a bit more preparation it could have been fun indeed.”

He’s got a wistful smile Cass doesn’t like one bit. “Yeah, no. That was the exact opposite of fun.”

“It made a decent plan, even if it relied on our friend being so very broken. And you proved yourself rather capable in there. All the same, I’m sorry I didn’t ask your thoughts. I just wanted to work quickly so we could be out of here.”

“We can’t just bail, they sort of owe us,” Cass shrugs, even if her jaw pangs a little from her low words. Under the table her foot bounces up and down. Just a little time to feel better and then they could get moving without making it worse.

But Winston straightens in his seat. “That is not why we do this.”

“What’s with the ‘we’? I’m not a warden. We’re not doing this again.”

“If the need comes I have no choice. It’s my job. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you much earlier, I just hoped things wouldn’t-” He pauses, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. “I hoped it wouldn’t be relevant so soon. Which reminds me,” he adds, “I need to scribe the others so they don’t worry.”

“Other wardens?”

Winston lays out his map and bottle on the table in front of him. The map sketches out four main countries, Ellis just beneath a group of mountains with a coast running its lower border. Haven’s marked with a big black dot on the far east of it. “Yes. Our work isn’t about reward, Cass. It’s about doing what must be done.”

“Poetic,” Cass says with a roll of her eyes. “Well, I’m not honor-bound or whatever. I got hurt helping them. I say we reap the benefits.”

“You could be, with time. Some training with Jermaine and Rissa and you’d- wait, why didn’t you say you were hurt?”

Before she can answer, his bare foot prods hers under the table. Her skin crawls, not just from his touch but like warm water spilling down to wash over her leg. Said comparison doesn’t thrill her. She shivers but the sting of her scrapes smooths away.

“Fascinating,” Winston says.

Cass stiffens. Being called fascinating, the way science experiments and unexplainable deadly accidents are fascinating, doesn’t endear her to the bird any more than his touchiness does. “Keep your magic to yourself,” she rasps.

“You’re no longer injured, yes? At any rate, it was not my magic.” His hands spread over the map, tracing the lines with his fingers.

“What’s that mean? Did you like pull out of the air or something?”

“No, I pulled a fair bit of it from you.”

“Like I had some on me.” Magic from some tree or other living thing, powdered on her like pollen. It’s not a question, just an explanation- even if she can’t see it, he claimed it’s everywhere.

Winston looks up from the map with a deep breath, folds it like he’s closing his mind on it until he’s handled the conversation. “From within you. Honestly I’m surprised the fragment noticed what little you have or it’d never agreed without a name. I wish you would have told me earlier or you wouldn’t have had to walk with your knee as it was.”

“Back the hell up to where you said I had magic in me? You said seeing magic,” she hisses. “You never said anything about making it.”

“I told you, magic is a fact of life here. It’s a system in the body, necessary as the heart or the brain. You don’t will its production any more than you can the blood in your veins. From the moment you fell here the roots have been forming around your nerves-”

“Magic equals life just sounded like some fancy fantasy BS! What is this, a virus? You’re telling me there’s nothing I can do?”

“Well, I can bind the magic in your vessel to slow the effect. You’ve got to keep me informed of how you feel, but… generally, yes. You’ll be able to control the magic in your body once it’s there, but there’s not much even I can do once you’ve developed an inclination. I must say, most otherlanders are much more pleased about it.”

Cass can’t deny to herself how much the idea pleases her, just a little bit. The same part of her that wanted to know what lay behind the gap once and for all, but look how well following that voice turns out. The heat in chest pulses out, humming through her spine and out as far as her fingertips in a ripple. Basically she’ll get magic powers. Something the little kid on the bridge always wanted.

Whether she wanted them here and now or not.

“So, what? I don’t get back in time, I turn into a bird or something?” How’s that for controlling jack?

“It’s quite possible, should that be how the magic decides to express. I doubt you’re therian as I am but taking other forms is just a single way the magic could adapt. Guiding magic in other organisms, controlling materials of life- changing yourself or the world around you. It’s personal as a name.”

Cass forces down the heat in her chest and plants her feet on the floorboards, ready to run. Get out before things get crazier than they already are. “Can we go back to the part where I can stop it? How long do I have?”

“Days, likely.”

“And we just wasted an afternoon here.” She tries to ignore how she factored into it, wasting even more time retracing their steps back.

“I wouldn’t call it a waste, Cass Douglas. We have time. Breathe.”

“I’m fine. I just don’t have time to sit here and you just put us off tracking knowing I had a time limit. What’s wrong with you?”

He chuckles, opening the map again. “I’m well aware of our time. I’ll try to keep you better informed, but it’s my duty as a warden to handle this sort of thing. Hopefully we won’t encounter many more incidents like this but I’m afraid our barriers are only going to get weaker the further we are from Haven.”

“Why’s that?”

Winston blinks, like he’s forgotten what he’s said. “Well, the amalgam we keep the barriers with is in Haven. The further the magic extends from the amalgam, the weaker its effect- with a whole country, quite a lot of room for holes and errors. We’re at the edge of Ellis as it is but even so, it shouldn’t be happening so soon.”

Cass flinches with the return of Marcy, who gives her a tap on the arm. “It’s ready! You want to come to the kitchen down there?”

“What’s ready?”

Marcy pulls on her arm again and they both rise to follow. With all her focus on the conversation, Cass had mostly ignored the combination of smells wafting up the stairs. Cheese, bread, some sort of fishy smell she remembered from camping on the coast with her parents...

They come to a table against a few barrels lining the walls, on them two plates with bread bowls on them. Marcy sits them down with a flourishy little bow. Cass takes a seat as the rest of the Fausts circle the table with chairs of their own. The aunt, the “guard” Perrin, a few more ladies who’d been cooking and might have been a couple.

“It’s lunch soon anyway so we thought we’d treat you,” the aunt says. “Perrin insisted, and you can’t sway them when they get an idea like this.”

Perrin puts an arm around each traveler, tears in their eyes. On first glance they look pretty feminine, but they just seem to go by guardian instead of Mom to the Faust kids. “You save my babies, you’ve earned a free meal.”

Cass eyes the bowls and tries not to blush. Or be tempted by the food, but by the time everyone’s seated Cass already has a spoon in hand. It ends up cramped, but she can’t care less.

Fortunately magicians don’t have a blessing and she can dive into her bowl with as much gusto as Marcy and Mason. Maintaining her level of activity requires calories and lots of them. The soup melts in her mouth, the bread stiff enough not to get soggy before she finish off the goods inside but not stale.

The Fausts listen while they recount the thing from the pool, although Hazel and Winston are careful to tiptoe around the parts that might frighten her. Cass pitches in with her kick to the thing’s face once they get there, which got a nice chorus of ew’s.

“I’m glad no one was hurt,” Perrin pops in. They stare into their bowl, tapping a foot under the table.

Winston ate half the bowl before anything else, but keeps drumming too like he’s waiting for a Faust to untie him from his chair. “It’s the least we could do.”

“We do need to go soon,” Cass adds. Not too eager-sounding, she hopes.

“Warden business?” Dani asks. A knowing grin crosses her face for the two guests. “Always curious when one of you longcoats come to town, but you didn’t look the kind until you said something.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, my dear.” His tone’s playful, amused even. “But yes. For that matter, we need to tend to a bit of closing business now. Thank you very much for your kindnesses today.”

There’s some hugging and promises from the kids not to go running off behind the barriers again, then they got the okay to finally leave. Yet again Cass tries to look miffed about stopping, but the kids’ reactions are too good when she winks at them on her way out the door. The last thing she catches is Marcy’s grin and Mason’s big ol’ saucer eyes.

“So where next? Clemence?” she asks the bird as they go roughly along the same path they’d come. For all the time-wasting they still got a map and a meal out of the afternoon. Time seems to work the same here as it does back home, so that leaves them a few hours before dark and the rest of the evening for travel. Not much in the grand scheme, not if she knows she’s got a timeframe on this trip.

They continue back along the stream, Winston keeping an eye out for the opposite shore. “To finish our business, yes?”

“You mean the hole? Why? That thing’s trapped, we’re good to go.”

“The hole’s still there,” he says. “I still haven’t scribed Finch to close it, and light won’t stop our fragmented friend for long. I wouldn’t like to see their attempts to take anyone else. Would you?”

“Alright, alright,” she says. “Back there and then back on track again, though. Right?”

“Right,” the bird agrees. He keeps his hands at his back as they walk the way they’d come, back through the mud and carefully across the stream where they found the hole again. He stands there a moment, considering the tunnel worn through the bushes.

“Would you like to come with me or would you like to wait?” he asks, peering still further inside.

Cass stares at him. What is this, a test? At least he’s asking her this time rather than just ditching her, but knowing what lies behind that tunnel doesn’t make her all warm and fuzzy about going this time. She gives the bird nod and watches him disappear into the bush.

Then she stands there and gives it a little more thought. The bird doesn’t see her coming this time. She can get the chance to see what he’s up to when he doesn’t think she’ll be watching, and to see the kelpie again at a safe distance.

She looks into the hole and lets out a groan, teeth grit together. Fine. Still growling she gets down on her hands and knees and crawls.

[dachi-chan25]

Riverdale episode 6 recap

Okay so it's been a while since I've done I recap (cuz I don't usually have much time) but today I'm hella sick so work is out of the picture and I have a LOT of thoughts/feelings about THIS episode so why the hell not???

First of all I applogize for the format (I'm on mobile cuz turning on my computer literally gives me a headache when I'm sick) I'll try to fix it, and lastly I warn THIS contains–

SPOILERS!!!!!

•So we start the episode talking about fear (honestly I LOVE the intros) we see Archie with his guitar staring anxiously at himself in the mirror and we also see Betty and Polly when they were children, then we have a pretty neat transition to the present. Betty is chillin' on her bed and writing her diary while Mama Cooper (aka Satan) is folding Betty's clothes, oh and my baby drops the bomb she invited Jughead over for breakfast, no biggie am I right???? (OMG THIS is happening!!!!) Alice was shocked!

•My sarcastic baby boy is having the most uncomfortable breakfast ever, (honest to God Imma kill Alice and then I'll adopt her daughters) it seems breakfast was only an excuse for our sleuths to distract Alice (they communicate only with a look #married4eva) So Betty can check her purse for any clues about Polly's whereabouts.

•Their little plight is succesful cause Betts finds a check for some kind of religious asociation (Can't remember the name sorry) they research it on the Blue & Gold offices and find out it's a home for 'troubled youths' #bingo of course they know Polly is there.

•So we have this kinda variety show on Riverdale (my boy Kevin is organizing it of course) and Archie is auditioning but he has stage fright, and no I'm not gonna make any Troy Bolton joke cuz I understand Archie. For those who want to know I'm am actress, I do theater mostly, musical theater, and when I began to study for it I was scared af because even if my friends and family were supportive I had tons of insecurities (and when you are an actor/Singer that's perfectly normal) so yeah I really connected with Archie here (What's the deal with Reggie tho??? First he is an asshole with Juggie and punches Archie, then he is actually decent with Archie and now he is pulling a 'keep ya' head in the game Bolton' and being a total dickhead like???

•At lunch my cutie sleuths are talking bout Polly and sharing food and once again communicating with their eyes (OTP) and for the first time Archie offers his help and Juggie totally rejects his ass (pretty logical tho cuz they would attract too much attention) and I kinda got the feeling Archie is getting jealous idk the way he looked at them did not sit right with me.

•So yeah Archie is angsting about the whole stage fright thing, Valerie is being supportive af (that's pretty cool cuz she actually has experience with this) and my girl Ronnie says she convinced (read: forced) Kevin to give him a slot in the show's program so he has the chance to share his songs (Kevin is totally NOT happy about it tho) but Archie thinks he can't make it alone and Valerie is like 'would love to help but I'm with the Pussycats babe' fear not cuz Ronnie is all smooth and offers to be the 'Bey to his Jay' (honestly I'm not very invested in Archie's love life but he certainly is lucky to have such awesome girls intrested in him) he accepts and it's all very flirty.

•Then we have Mama Lodge and Papa Andrews talking bussines, it seems things are not going good but Fred refuses to 'let his people go' cuz he felt real bad the last time he did (he is talking about Juggie's dad isn't he?) anyway he is not doing them any good either cuz for the looks of it the money is not enough for the payrolls, Fred has a plan tho, he wants to convince the new owner of the Drive In to give him the construction job and he asks for Hermione's help (which is hillarious cuz we, the viewers, know the buyer was her husband) she agrees and... We see Ronnie (i LOVE her) taking flowers to her mom but she doesn't get to give them to her cause she fricking watches her mom kissing Fred!!!!! WTF I thought she wasn't intrested??? Dunno this just made me sad for my girl Ronnie.

•Once Hermione arrives home Veronica confronts her, and is totally logical cuz she is still married, and of course Veronica thought once her dad was free they could be like they were before but Hermione tells her she is not So sure about it. OMG whyyyyyyy??????? Ronnie doesn't deserve THIS and while Hermione can do whatever she wants this is not the right way to go about it. For starters she should get a divorce and talk to Ronnie instead of letting her find out everything on her own and hurting her in the process #fuck them I'll adopt Ronnie too!!

•Then we get a scene where Fred is telling Archie all his 'guys' are gonna go to watch his presentation, Archie is still nervous but his dad is real supportive (why can't all the Riverdale parents be like this???) and he even tells him what happened with Ronnie's mom (see Hermione?? Not so hard to be honest with your child) Archie is also pretty supportive (the Andrews are so uncomplicated is like watching a completely different show)

•We're at school again and we have Archie and Val talking about music and stuff, and then we get a Pussycats rehearsal, Josie is really in the zone and gets pissed at Valerie, my girl Val snaps at her that working with Archie is much more plesant, and Josie looses it saying Val can't sing with both of them and she must choose ASAP Val promptly quits and I'm shoook!!!!!!! WTF is going on???

•Josie, now more calm, tells her mom and her mom is So nonchalant about it??? She tells Josie to replace Val and other pretty fucked up BS (why are the Riverdale parents So shitty???) cuz apparently Josie's dad is comming to see the show and if the Pussycats aren't perfect he would blame her for it. Da fuq????? And what about what Josie feels??? #I'm adopting Josie too

•So yeah Val tells Archie she can sing with him cuz she left the Pussycats and they start rehearsing and it's all nice and dandy til Ronnie arrives with her partiture and Archie is the douchiest douche to have ever douched, for real he didn't even told Ronnie he was going to sing with Val now and just put her aside like a toy or something (honestly fuck him so much!!! I support his love for music but that doesn't give him the right to use people and discard them whenever he wants) of course my girl totally calls this fuckboi out but in her anger she ends up yelling at him about their parents's affair. #protectRonnie #where's my girl Cheryl to console her gf??? Anyway Ronnie goes straight to the Pussycats and offers to replace Val (OMG she gets the kitty ears And the whole mean girls corridor-catwalk vibe it's awesome)

•They are rehearsing but Ronnie is not into it And Josie calles her out, And Ronnie explodes about everything, Josie is supportive af and very insightful tho. #I'm here for Josie/Ronnie friendship (And maybe more) Cherjosieca is my new OT3

•So we get Juggie and Betty in front of this wierd asylum (OMG they totally skipped school) there they must be separated cuz only Betty can enter, they take her to Polly's room, but she is not there she is in the gardens and honestly when the Cooper sisters reunite is the most beautiful thibg, and also Betty founds Polly is not sick but she is pregnant (I totally knew this)

•We get the full story about how she and Jason were gonna run away on July 4th but someone told her parents and she got taken away (for fuck's sake why do you do this to your daughter?!?!? Over maple syrup really????)and OMFG she doesn't know Jason is dead!!!!!!! #go home Riverdale parents # this year's 'Shittiest parent' award goes to Alice and Hal Cooper.

•An old lady (she is the one who recieved Betty and Juggie) takes Betty away And boom!!! Alice is there, the witch practically drags Betty to a corridor and says she paid the institution to inform her every time Polly got a visitor, Betty is having none of THIS shit And confronts her about not telling Polly about Jason, and then they run into Polly (I guess she was being taken back to her room) And Polly is crying And screaming at Alice for not telling her and they drag her away from Betty, And Jughead tries to help but can't And OMG why must Betty suffer like THIS??? #protectBetty #my heart broke

•Then back at the Coopers, Betty is being confronted by her patents who try to gaslight the shit out of her (why are you So awful???) of course Betty doesn't let them out the hook And asks her dad if he broke into Sheriff Keller's home ( we know he totally did) he says he didn't, And Betty asks if he killed Jason her mother starts to laugh (she goes from suburban mom to the Joker in .5 seconds I swear) and says she wishes either of them had killed Jason (I mean I knew it wasn't them, but that's such a fucked up thing to say let alone in front of your daughter) #the Cooper parents are batshit crazy, of course Betty tries to make them see reason And the abusive shits say they are her parents and she must believe them just cuz they say so. #Imma fight them both tbh

So we get this elegant dinner at the Lodge's place, And Josie's asshole dad is there being pretentious as fuck, and I can't stand him (also Josie called Archie Yoko Ono and I cracked up xD) Fred presents his project but Mayor Mccoy says it's not up to her but she'll try to help him.

•Arch talks to Val about crazy dinner time, and of course about Josie's dad, Val says now she gets why Josie was So worked up about the show, Archie tells her to go back to the Pussycats cuz I guess now he is more confident of maybe he wants to stand on his own, And that's a good thing!!!! Cuz Val loves the Pussycats And Arch doesn't want to be Yoko #LMAO

•Ronnie is getting ready to go to the show but she decides to talk things with her mom like Josie suggested, unfortunately Hermione drops her the bomb that Hiram (aka dady dearest) gave her a sharing of his company before going to jail and she needs Ronnie to sign the papers to give Fred the job, Ronnie gets mad af And says she won't sign anything for her mom's lover, and what does Hermione do?? She FORGES her daughter's signature #fuck her tbh!!! #she is driving her daughter away with all her BS

•So apparently Betty is confined to her room, worry not cuz our brave Jughead (aka Romeo) climbs to her window and kills me with a single line ('hey there Juliet' *dead*) she smiles And OMG they are the cutest ship ever!!!! Anyway Betty is feeling pretty out of it because her parents are crazy And maybe Polly And she are too... Jughead tries to calm her down saying they are not their parents (THIS sounds So Romeo&Juliet to me!!!) And he stutters and its adorable And he gains courage And then HE KISSES HER (ahhhhhhh ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥❇🌟🌠✅✔✔✅✔🆒💯💯💯💯💯‼‼‼‼❗❕❗❕❗) And it's the cutest thing ever cuz one really gets to see that Juggie was waiting to do that for a long time (the lil' sigh he gives *dead again* And her smile!!!!! *couldn't be more dead*) now Betty starts talking about Jason's car (I know lots of people think she ruined the moment but consider this: before the kiss she was lost, she doubted herself and her parents and everything BUT after the kiss she regains focus and trust in herself and tbh I find this beautiful, I don't think they need big romantic declarations of love cause they know, they have such a Deep understanding with each other that words are not really necessary) And Juggie gets So amused at her (SAME Juggie) So they are back at the sleuthing bussines and go to check Jason's car.

•Now in the show Val talks with Josie And everything between them gets fixed (I LOVE girl friendship) And Kevin (OMG it's me or he looks like Corny Collins???) introduces them to the audience, they sing a modern cover of 'I feel LOVE' And we get a transition to Betty and Juggie finding the car, they see the back And find one of Jason's jacket And lots of drugs, And OMG they actually are going to go to the police (THIS is such an unusual thing for this kind of shows) but someone is watching them (God I hope nothing bad happens to them)

•Josie's asshole of a dad gets up and leaves before the Pussycats finish And Imma fucking gonna fight him cause my girl Josie is trying So hard not to cry in front of everyone #fuck your dad Josie #you are enough #you are talented And amazing.

•Now it's Archie's turn And he is still terrified, but Ronnie (bless her forgiving heart) gives him the support he needs to go on stage and actually sing, And OMG THIS is straight outta High School Musical cuz after the show every one is cheering on him and wow just crazy.

•But before the show ends Betty and Jughead arrive (like two adorable drenched puppies) with Sheriff Keller And tell him what they found, And OMG for a moment Betty hears Archie's voice through the speaker but she decides to go after Juggie and Sheriff Keller (my girl is already moving on!!! Good job at visual representation writers!!)

•So Archie thanks Val for everything, and they KISS, OMG I really like them together but I'm not So sure Archie is ready to have a relationship, I mean he is So volatile, Idk, I liked the kiss And I hope he is not an ass to Val.

•So Hermione and Fred are huggin and Ronnie arrives being polite af (So classy) Fred gives her the good news (that he got the job) and of course Verónica immediatly knows what happened And leaves #well now you did it Hermione #I just wanna hug Ronnie tho

•The police + Bughead get at the car but it's on Fire!!! And the evidence is lost with it!!!! OMG why?????????????????? Then my babies go to Polly's institution only to find she escapes through the window (there was blood on the glass and I'm So damn worried for her)

And the episode ends there cause the writers of this show wanna keep me anxious over my children til next week!!!

...

And that's it I always have fun doing these maybe I'll try to make one for next week (if I'm not to dead by then) I would LOVE to hear your thoughts about it!!!