#five fricken thousand words

[itsscromp]

hellloooo so i wanted to request something I've been thinking of for a while <3 you can just call me 🦇bat anon :D sooo i was thinking rocket raccoon x reader who is also a genetically modified raccoon by the hands of high evolutionary with the same amount of trauma and torture as rocket experienced, but they're more brain modified, so they look like a sorta normal raccoon but they're really REALLY overly intelligent and are agile and smart and all that, but they use a human body hologram, and when rocket met them he saw them as a human, but reader later revealed their secret and they connected with their trauma or something i dunno X( i just want someone to let rocket know he's not alone <3 if you're gonna do this, thank you :D if not, have a nice day anyway and i love your writing!!!

We're not so different

Hello there 🦇bat anon :D, Apologies for the delay in this, Now for this request, I had read over it and ultimately my brain has gone splat in the moment. BUT !!! I cooked another idea relating to what you asked. So I hope you like it. Warnings: Mentions of abuse. Word count:985

How you were brought into this world will continue to baffle you until the day you die. How many children have happy families, Yours was utterly broken, Your mom abandoned you before your first birthday, leaving you with your dad who turned to alcohol to cope with the stress. You would always have to bring him his bottle... unless you would cop something in the head. You still had the scar across your eyebrow from the shard cutting through, you were thankful that it didn't get your eye.

By 10 years old when you were on the way home from school as quickly as you could. Your teacher stopped you before you could rush home to talk about the results of your test. Heading home... Guess who was there.

"Where the fuck have you been ??!! I told you to get back as soon school finished."

"I... I know... The teacher just wanted to talk to me..."

"You got into trouble !!" He grabbed your arm and twisted it.

You yelped in pain and started to cry, You yanked your hand away and ran away, Having enough of his endless hurting. Running as fast as you could, You rushed down into the nearby park and fell over, started to cry. As you cried, you felt yourself getting dragged up by something in the sky, Soon being sent away thousands of light-years away in the galaxy.

The cycle continued just with your kidnappers, Whatever your dad did, they did ten times worse when you didn't do what they said. You didn't escape for another 5 years. Being placed into hiding on Knowhere and stayed there for the time being. At least you were free.

You took up some mercenary work with the ravagers, coming across Peter quill from time to time. And it just so happened that that day when the guardians of the galaxy were formed. The day you met Rocket Raccoon.

You knew straight from the start that the attitude that he pulled off when you worked together in prison was nothing more than a cover-up for a deeper trauma that he had witnessed. But it became more evident when you saw his drunken out burst in the bar.

"He thinks I'm some stupid thing he does !! Well, I didn't ask to get made !! I didn't ask to be torn apart and put back together over and over, turned into some... Some little monster !!"

"Rocket, no one is calling you a monster" Peter told him

"He called me vermin !! She called me Rodent !!! His bottom lip wobbled a bit before he grew angry. "Let's see if you can last after five or six good shots in your fricken face !!" He aimed his gun at Drax.

"No no no no !! 4 billion units, Rocket come on suck it up for one more lousy night and you're rich !!" Quill begged him to think rationally.

Rocket thought for a bit before disarming his weapon. "Fine... But I can't promise when this is over I'm not gonna kill every last one of you jerks."

He then bolted out of the bar, Your heart absolutely shattered hearing all of this. At this, you wanted to hold him and tell him that everything was ok... But you knew this wouldn't work knowing Rocket for the short time.

But regardless he needed someone right now, So you headed outside to find him. Looking around nearby until you found him in an alleyway crying softly to himself. You grew sad as you saw him... You walked over as you gently sat down across the other side, remaining silent.

He looked up and saw you, quickly regaining his composure. "Get lost y/n..."

"I didn't say anything" You softly said.

He opened his mouth before shutting it, His ears fully drooped. Crossing his arms as he looked away from you. "Why are you here ?? Wanna call me monster too ??"

You shook your head gently, Trying to figure out how to properly say it. "Rocket... Whatever it is... that you have gone through." You could feel his eyes glaring on you, almost to say choose your next few words very carefully.

"Whatever it is... I get it... I know what it feels like."

His eyes slowly softened a little, but still glaring at you.

"The scar... On my eyebrow... This was by the man who was meant to protect me..." You pointed to your eyebrow.

He inspected your eyebrow a bit before he looked down at the ground. "I... I'm sorry you had to suffer that"

"My whole life... And not even that... When I was 10 I was kidnapped from Earth, The people who kidnapped me... They endured so much pain on me... For 5 flarking years..." You moved your shirt a bit, showing scared underneath your ribs... this one hurt you the most, you couldn't even stomach to talk about it.

Rocket's eyes went soft, And soon, you could see a different side to him. "I'm sorry... I really am..." He hesitantly started to move, moving next to you. Wanting to be in your company and feel safe.

"Rocket, Whatever this galaxy throws at you... I want to let you know... I'll be there for you ok ??" You looked at him.

He gave it a bit of thought for a little bit before nodding. "Yeah... Same to you y/n" He looked up at you, saying it sincerely.

You smiled and gently raised a fist to him, he tilted his head a little bit in confusion. "What are you doing humie ??"

"You never heard about fist bumps ??"

He shook his head, wanting an explanation.

"It's kind of like a symbol of friendship on earth, so here" You gently helped him achieve his first fist bump, "There you go" You smiled,

You would always have his back, And he with yours. Always.

Taglist: @callofdudes

[lxiewrites]

Talks and Changes

Ch. 7 of Altea High

”Ji-ji! Stop!”

“Payton get out of here!”

Keith wakes up, startled. He can still hear the roar of the fire and the sharp shnick shnick of blades in his ears. He wasn’t there when it happened but his mind can fill in the blanks. As good of a video as it can be some details are better left unacknowledged, too bad his brain didn’t get that memo. Groaning, he buried his face further into his flattened pillow, ignoring the sun peeking out from under the blinds.

Before he fell back to sleep he flipped his pillow over, something he read on the Internet, to change dreams or something. He wished he didn’t dream at all but he needs more sleep. Mr. Kelly or Coran, his Civilian Life teacher, warned them of a big project starting the beginning of the week. In the class so far he has made a birdhouse, came up with three ways to make mac n’ cheese with only three ingredients, and learned how to indicate North. Who knows what the man has come up with.

He breathed in the scent of the detergent that Scarlet used on his bed sheets. He pushed back the past and thought of something that was so far different and off topic and had absolutely no connection to his parents or childhood. He thought of… flowers. Yes, flowers, pretty colorful flowers that his mom used to carefully press between book pages.

Nope. Okay, change of subject.

He thought of… TV, no, no, no, no screens. Okay, cake? Hunk said he would bring fresh baked cupcakes next week. He still hasn’t answered the other boy’s question on what flavor he’d prefer. He replied he’d be fine with anything but he secretly hoped for chocolate. His mom used to make him this chocolate cake for his birthday that was somehow crunchy but still good.

“Gaaaahhhhh,” he groaned into the pillow. He scrunched his legs under him and stretched his arms out in a cat-like stretch. He pulled down his hoodie from when it slid up his torso. He doesn’t have to worry so much about catching on fire when he’s sleeping, thankfully, but now he’s awake and has to be more cautious.

He sat up on his knees, the sleeves long and in his lap, fingers barely poking out of the fabric. He looked to his alarm clock on his nightstand, 7:47 blinked at him in neon green. He reached over and gingerly swept up the nonchalant envelope where he left it. He swallowed and smoothed his fingers over the crumpled paper. It didn’t become wrinkled because of him or Scarlet; he knew that if it was anything of his she treated it with care. It wasn’t well taken care of when it was delivered to the house. Who knows how the letter inside looked.

He moved his legs to sit crisscross, the cotton of his baggy sweatpants catching under him. He felt strangely cool at the moment. Very calm. Years since he had heard from her and suddenly he gets a letter out of the blue. The flap was securely fastened to the pocket, only the barest corner of the envelope wasn’t glued down. Carefully, Keith picked at the corner. It tore, just a little bit but instead of following the crisp line it was predestined to, the tear arced so only a tiny little flap was loose.

He slipped his thumb in the bigger opening, prepared for the odd tearing and uneven scalloping, when there was a knock on the door. His head flew up, bangs in his eyes, as he covered the envelope with his pillow like it was a bad secret.

He cleared his throat. “Uh, yes?”

Scarlet opened the door just enough to poke her head through. “Keith, you have that meeting with Shiro today remember? Did you forget?”

Eyes widening, Keith ditched the pillow and the letter underneath it and flew to the mound of clothes on his desk chair. “Shit! I forgot!”

“Mmmhmm, that’s what I thought. You’re meeting him at that café in town, call me when you get there and when you’re done!” With that statement she closed the door.

He starts to put on layers of clothes from the pile and saw the letter peeking out from under the pillow. He paused his harried dressing. After a minute or two he slipped it into his new hoodie.

Minutes later he’s down in his extra layers and a non-sleep sweatshirt. He adjusted his undershirts to line up as he shoved his feet into his shoes. He was adjusting the heel when a firm hand grabbed onto his sweatshirt. He looked up to see Scarlet with her brow furrowed and downturned mouth. “Keith, I know you haven’t opened the note from your mother yet but I just wanted to say that no matter what’s inside you don’t have to do anything it says. It doesn’t have to change you, okay?”

Change me? What—what does that mean? He looked at her, puzzled, a little pebble dropped in his stomach. “S-sure, Scar. Whatever you say.”

She smiled at him but the little creases around her eyes were still there. She nodded. “Okay, I just wanted to let you know. You’re your own person, and I think you’re a very brave young man.” She let go of his sleeve.

Kind words but each dropped little pebbles into his stomach, plopping in and churning the stomach acid and making him vaguely sick.

He left and caught the bus that would leave him kitty-corner to the Just Beans Here.

A short ride later he spotted Shiro with his conspicuous white tuft of hair at one of the outside tables, a cup of coffee still steaming.

The older man looked up from his menu as the metal chair scrapped against the concrete. “Hi, Keith. Get here alright?”

Stomach still unsettled but calm despite the rocky bus ride he nodded. “It was fine. Yours?”

“Well enough, not a lot of traffic at this time.”

The waitress came up then. After getting his order of iced tea she let them have a moment or two to decide on what they’d like. As she weaved between the tables Shiro put on his “working smile” as Keith called it. Polite and friendly but slightly distant. In this moment he was not his cousin but a professional liaison for the small part of the government that dealt with kids who had the unfortunate side effect of having a villainous parent or parents.

“Keith, how have things been so far?”

Keith sighed and rolled his eyes. The pretending always annoyed him. That smile annoyed him. The “I’m you’re friend” annoyed him. Because they didn’t. They didn’t care, he was just either another case or something to be monitored. But this caseworker isn’t like the others; this is Shiro. And he knew Shiro cared about him. It took him a while to realize that but that knowledge was cemented in him.

He hated this part of the routine but knew it was necessary. “Everything is fine with Scarlet. I’ve only melted a few things since last month.” He rubbed the envelope in his pocket between his fingers, debating. “Pretty much it.”

The waitress came back with their drinks. Shiro asked for a Cobb salad because he was prepared that way and Keith panicked and asked for a BLT. Conveniently forgetting he didn’t like tomatoes.

Shiro’s brows furrowed. “I thought you didn’t like tomatoes.”

Keith crossed his arms and frowned. “I don’t, I—I just felt like bacon today.”

The guidance counselor didn’t comment, merely nodded his head. “Okay. So,” He folded his hands on the table. “How’s school?”

Keith’s eyes drifted, taking in small details before answering. The couple eating brunch together, giggling and cooing. Someone typing furiously on their laptop with papers strewn about, taking over the table next to them. A girl with a magazine with a blond man on the cover leaning against nothing, the new CEO of some company or a celebrity he doesn’t know. A woman with a darker skin tone than the young woman behind the magazine bustled around the metal fence, waving.

“Keith.”

Said young man snapped his attention back to the person he was meeting. “Sorry,” His eyes darted back to the young woman who was waving back at the older woman. The girl from the elevator? “School’s fine. As you know.”

Shiro broke character for a minute by rolling his eyes. “I do, but I want to know how you feel. Is it working? How’re classes? Do you have friends?”

Keith leaned his arms on the table. “It’s fine. Classes are fine; the teacher’s are weird. Coran is the weirdest, he keeps giving us random assignments for what’s supposedly a Life Skills class. I don’t know how many birdhouses he expects us to make. My bio teacher is going on maternity leave, I think she would still try to work if it wasn’t for her wife; she called during class to make sure she wasn’t working too hard. It was cute. Slav is…interesting. He spends most of the class going through other world scenarios probabilities. Lance doesn’t help because he keeps asking stupid questions during class.”

“What kind of stupid questions?” Shiro asked.

“Stuff like what are the chances of a building falling because of a kid throwing a baseball through the window, or the probability of someone tossing a water bottle a hundred times and having it land perfectly every time.” Keith chuckled. “One time he asked what was the probability of this guy Sean in out class of getting laid and Slav actually answered him.” He covered his mouth with his wrist as he laughed. “Pfft, he said it was less than twenty percent. Maybe thirty in another dimension.”

Shiro chuckled at his story. It was really funny; he didn’t expect the teacher to actually answer! God, best Tuesday ever. Sean Dick didn’t even try to get back at Lance after that, which Keith thought was nothing short of a miracle.

“It sounds like you and Lance are getting along well.”

Keith didn’t answer for a minute or two. “I guess…Sometimes it’s like he barely stands me. But we can handle it for the rest of the year.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t ‘barely stand you’. He’s a nice kid.”

“He’s fine, but I don’t think we could be classified as ‘friends.’” For emphasis he brought his fingers up for the air quotes. He dropped his hands. “Shiro, why can’t I just get a nullifier? Wouldn’t that just be easier?”

Shiro sighed like the world was on his shoulders. “Keith, we’ve discussed this. You won’t learn how to control your powers yourself. What if you lose it? Or what if it breaks? Then where would you be?”

Keith didn’t have an answer for that.

Satisfied his cousin nodded then he smiled as the waitress deposited their food in front of them. Keith merely nodded with what he hoped looked like a smile, when she left he started to pick off his tomatoes and throwing them on top of Shiro’s salad.

Shiro stabbed through the extra tomatoes and greens. “We might be able to get you a nullifier for special occasions, like games or dances. Hopefully you won’t get detention, but everyone’s required for that one, but you have to learn how to do it yourself if you’re still planning to be a civilian.”

Keith flaked off crumbs of crust from his sandwich and bit into his spear pickle. “I highly doubt I’m going to dances,” he mumbled around the bite of food. “And I am still planning to be a civilian. It’s not like I’m planning to turn evil or anything. Why would I change anything in my plan now? Why would I just suddenly turn evil? It’s not like anyone just turns evil over night and I’m not planning to.” He glared at his sandwich; he flicked off a small tomato seed. God, he hated tomatoes.

“Hey, buddy, no one is saying that you’re going to turn evil alright? Is it someone from school? We can talk to them okay?” Shiro set down his fork, looking at him with concern. His non-metal hand was lying on the table, an offer but not an obligation.

“No it’s just…” he looked away. The girl from the elevator was talking excitedly to the woman sitting across from her. The woman was smiling warmly and nodding every so often. “Just because my dad burned down buildings for money people expect me to. Just, the reputation that my parents turned evil makes it really hard to just…blend in. And this,” he took off his glove and held up his hand and allowed a small orange flame flicker to life. “Doesn’t help.” He closed his hand around the small flame, smothering it.

He slipped his other glove off and picked up his food, tomato free. “I’m just having an off day. People are irritating. Let’s just leave it at that.” He took a big bite out of his sandwich and chewed furiously.

“Okay, if you don’t want to talk about it that’s fine.” He resumed eating. Before he took a new bite he asked, “But other than that everything’s fine? You have friends? It seems like you’ve been hanging out with Pidge and Hunk a lot. And of course Lance.”

“Why ask if you already know the question?” Keith quirked an eyebrow at him.

Shiro looked at him, fork paused in midair. Another crack in the professional mask. Keith knew if they weren’t on a ‘business’ lunch he would probably be giving as good as he got. They stared at each other, neither one wanting to give in; Shiro didn’t even blink.

Finally the older man gave in; Keith relished his victory silently. “Just tell me if you’re making friends or not. How about Shay? Are you two getting along?”

“I would say I’m friends with Hunk and Pidge, like school friends, we’re not braiding anyone’s hair or having sleepovers anytime soon. Shay is cool. She’s really cool, like she’s really determined to do her best and improve. I can appreciate that.”

They continue talking about his classes and friends, see how well he’s adjusting in school. All the regular rounds to see if his basic needs are taken care of at Scarlet’s. He doesn’t mention that Scarlet thinks he’s all of a sudden going to turn evil because of getting contact with his mother. Then he would have to discuss his mother and how he felt and why he hadn’t opened the letter yet and he wanted to avoid that inquisition. He’s just out here for his required monthly talk with his cousin.

“Just wait here, you’re going to have to meet someone.” Shiro says as the waitress takes away their dishes. He leaves a few bills on the table for the check and walks over to the table with the girl and woman. The woman smiles warmly as she stood up to hug him. They chat for a bit and Shiro was talking to the girl, then he tilted his head in his direction. The girl nodded and walked over to him. He met Shiro’s gaze and glared at him, who smirked and shrugged in response.

The girl with teal hair pulled into a high ponytail waved as she sat down in front of him, slinging her purse over the back of her chair. “Hi, Keith!”

He gave her a half-smile. “Hi…”

She stuck her hand out. “Plaxum, from the elevator, but you can call me Plax.”

He almost took her hand but remembered why that would be a very bad idea. He quickly put his gloves back on. “Sorry, no handshakes, but, um, that’s an interesting name.”

“Hey, no worries, I forgot.” She picked up the dessert menu. “Yeah, my mom was, and still is, a bit of a hippy.”

“Does it mean anything?”

She set aside the trifold and shook her head. “Nah, not really.”

He nodded.

They sat in silence. It was awkward silence, at least to him. She didn’t seem to mind that much, playing with the menu. They waved the waitress away when she asked if they wanted anything else. He looked over to the other table where Shiro abandoned him. They were talking amicably but it seemed like a serious conversation.

“I’m meeting with Shiro after he’s done. I think they want to introduce you to Mamá Martinez.”

He looked back over, the appearances clicking into place. The same clear bronzed skin, thick chestnut hair, and sharp facial features that are actually quite soft when smiling. Except for the eyes and height they looked remarkably alike, especially if placed side to side.

He turned back to Plax, who was fiddling with the small braids she put into her ponytail; she smiled. “Don’t worry, there’s a reason she’s called Mamá Martinez, she’s really nice.”

“Thanks but why would I meet her? I mean, why is it so important?”

She tilted her head in confusion. “Well, she’s the one that looks after us, checks in, that stuff. She normally does things in person but Shiro’s her intern or something. They might just want you to finally meet her.”

Why would Shiro be her intern? Looks after them? He knew Shiro checked in on him, he thought it was as a representative for children’s services or something. He didn’t think that there was someone else that was supposed to be doing that job. Looking back though things made a lot more sense, still confusing but maybe more sense. But she said us…”What do you mean by ‘us?’”

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. Her left arm wrapped around herself as her other came up to cover her mouth. “Oh my God, you don’t know.” Her hand at her mouth dropped to rest on top of the left. Her smile was more subdued. “I forgot that not everyone knows anymore and I kinda thought you already knew.” She met his eyes, brave and a little defiant. “You don’t have her as a teacher but my mother is Luxia. She works at the school and she’s a reformed supervillain.”

He jerked. The table rattled and a glass fell over. He grabbed it right before it fell off the table. “She’s a reformed supervillain?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re her kid?”

“Also, yes.”

“And she’s working at the school?”

“Yes.”

She stared at him, cerulean eyes daring him to say anything bad about her or her mother. When he didn’t follow up with another question she asked, “Isn’t that why you’re here? You’re parents are supervillains like my mom and…” Her head gestured to the adults behind them. “They’re here to help.”

“I—I mean I guess. I’ve never thought about…It’s just…you’re mom works at the school?”

Her brow furrowed and her lips tensed just a little bit more, yet her voice remained level. “Yes. At the school. That can happen, y’know.”

“No, no, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you. I just never thought of it before. I never imagined my mom doing… anything outside of prison. I’ve never imagined my mom outside of prison. It just came a shock that that can happen.” He paused and put as much sincerity as he could into what he said. “I’m…really happy that you have this with your mother.” It just occurs to him that the glass was still in his hand. He set it in the middle of the table.

She smiled at him, defenses gone. “Thank you. That means a lot.” She relaxed her posture, arm and elbow resting on the table, fiddling with a braid. “Mamá Martinez could find a job for your mom or dad when or if they get out. She helped with my mom.”

He stared hard at his unused napkin. He took it and folded one corner of the square to the opposite corner. Keeping his hands and eyes busy. “My dad’s dead, it wasn’t released to the public, but he is. And I have no idea when or if my mom is ever getting out.” He thinks about the slight crinkling that’s in his hoodie pocket.

“They didn’t tell you the sentencing?”

He shrugged, folding the edges to meet in the middle. “I didn’t want to know at the time, still kinda don’t.” He finished folding and pulled on the wings to pop up the crane.

Plaxum nodded and thankfully didn’t say anything else. She took the paper-napkin-turned-crane. “That’s cool.” He didn’t know if she was talking about the bird or what he said. She tried to flap the wings but they barely moved. “Isn’t this supposed to flap?”

One side of his lips hitched up. “It’s a traditional crane. They’re not supposed to flap.”

“Hmm, still cool. Can I keep this?”

“Be my guest.”

She carefully folded the crane flat and slid it into her tiny purse. “If you want you can come talk to my mom. She’s typically free after school. And if you need a friend who gets the super villain kid thing you can always come talk to me.”

Keith hopes he kept the wince off his face. “Thanks for the offer but I’m not sure…”

She held up her hands, stopping whatever his excuse would be. “It’s just an offer, but we can still hang if you want.” She twisted her torso until he could hear a series of cracks from the other side of the table. “I think they’re ready to switch off anyway. I’m going to make Shiro get me ice cream for making my partner Flora.” Her face scrunched up in a glare. “Not funny, Shiro, not funny.” He has no idea who Flora is or why it’s bad that Shiro made them her partner and he won’t ask. He looked over her shoulder to see his cousin giving the woman a smile and a hug. Plaxum turned back around. “It was nice to see you Keith, you should seriously think about what I said.” She got up, slung the chain of her purse over her shoulder and looked over said shoulder, teeth gleaming. “See you in school Keith!”

He waves goodbye as she hugs Mrs. Martinez and makes a little hop over to Shiro. After a lot of gesturing and looks of disapproval from Plaxum Keith can see the exact time Shiro gave in. The man looked back at Keith and called out, “See you Monday, Keith! Behave yourself for Mrs. Martinez all right?”

If he could physically roll his eyes out of his head he would. “Goodbye, Shiro.”

Mrs. Martinez chuckled as she sat down where Plaxum left the chair out. “He’s a character that one. Hello, Keith,” She smiled at him, kind brown eyes that seemed very warm. She either did a great job at balancing the caring and professional relationship to the point one couldn’t tell or she just did a shit job of it. The aura she gave off was very…maternal. “I’m Isabella Martinez, you can call me Isabella, Bella, Mrs. Martinez, and some call me Mamá Martinez. Whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

He nodded. “Thank you, I think I’ll stick with Mrs. Martinez.”

She smiled at him, her phone buzzed and she shot off a quick text before focusing her attention on him again. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions but long story short: I’m a senior caseworker for the Administration for Children and Families that specializes with supervillains and their children. I’m technically your case manager until you turn eighteen. To make sure you’re getting proper education and that where you live is safe, etcetera etcetera. So far you’ve been dealing with Shiro, your cousin correct?” He nodded. “Now, I normally would be doing it and we’re bending the rules of ethics here by allowing Shiro to be working with you on your case but it’s an exception due to past performance with previous social workers.”

His memories bring up fake friendly adults with too big smiles and too bright voices that wouldn’t even meet his eye. He was so angry and frustrated back then he refused to even try to work with them. For a while he didn’t even speak, which certainly didn’t help when he kept getting kicked out of foster homes for setting shit on fire. He’s not gonna lie and say he didn’t get some satisfaction of being a little shit to them, but he hoped he matured a little since then.

She gave him a look that tells him that she knows exactly what he’s thinking, but the little smile showed that she wasn’t particularly angry. “Do you have any questions, Keith?”

“Why is Shiro on my case? He’s not even a social worker.”

“Well, it’s complicated. About a little over a year ago I contacted him when he was working as Altea’s guidance counselor for a couple of months asking if there was any information about you that could help. He offered to house you and while that would’ve been ideal he was fresh out of graduate school, it was years since you’ve last seen him, and his housing wasn’t exactly fireproof. It didn’t seem like the best situation when I already had Scarlet in mind.

“But he wanted to help and now he’s helping me part-time and the school’s liaison. Working with him and Allura has honestly been a godsend. His only cases are you and Plaxum, but it’s more so school focused. Other than you he’s not doing more than what his guidance counseling requires.”

Keith nodded. “Okay, that makes sense. But why are you meeting with me now?”

She smiled at him. A very genuine smile that was very fond but somehow seemed a little sad. “Well, it’s been a couple of years but we have met before. You were still so closed off I’m not surprised you don’t remember, but I heard from Shiro that you’re doing better so I thought this might be a good time.” Her phone buzzed and she quickly texted back, she shook her head fondly, still texting. “I’m sorry, it’s just my youngest son. He’s just being ridiculous.” She put away her phone. “Okay, so Shiro told me that you have some concerns over your control? It looks like you have plenty of control right now, nothing’s on fire and you had that flame under control from before.”

He frowned a little bit, so she was keeping tabs on him. He flexed his fingers. It’s true, he was pretty under control right now but he could still feel the heat swimming just under his skin. “I’m pretty calm right now. And that flame was really small.”

“Well, from previous reports it seemed that even that is an improvement from when you were younger.”

His brow furrowed. “I suppose.”

She held up her hand in a placating gesture, silver bracelets jingling. “I apologize, I just meant is that you do have control. Don’t discredit the work that you made to get here. Isn’t there someone at school that can help you with controlling your powers?”

That’s something that never occurred to him before. He supposed that he did do a lot of work to make sure that he has more control than he did before. He watched as the heat from his hands melt the leftover ice cubes in the glass that didn’t fall. His gloves weren’t smoking but acting like a furnace in eighty-degree weather wasn’t his goal. He set his hands in his lap. “I’m not sure.”

“Well, there’s no harm in asking. The sooner you find a tutor the sooner you learn and the sooner you won’t have to worry about your powers.” She might have a point but he’s been fine up until that point. Like she said he’s made improvements, he’s sure that he can make more. But how long would that take? That annoying voice of Shiro’s slithered its way into his thoughts again. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask, alright? I believe under certain circumstances I can use some connections to get a portable nullifier.” She checked her watch and made her way to stand. “I’m sorry, Keith, but I have to go. If you need anything just ask okay? Shiro has my number if you need it.”

He stood up too, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pocket. The smooth texture of the envelope met his fingers. “Okay, I’ll tell Shiro if I need anything, and I might take you up on the offer for a nullifier.”

She shook a finger at him. “That nullifier is just in special circumstances. Like in crowded contained areas.” Her phone buzzed again continuously. “I’m sorry, it must be my son. I hope to hear from you soon, Keith!”

She rushed off speaking rapidly in Spanish. He didn’t catch much other than a brief squawk of, “Cora did what?!” followed by even more frantic Spanish as she started to jog to her car.

He snorted softly, pulling out two dollars out of his wallet for the tip. Instead of returning it to his pants pocket he clutched it in his hand in his hoodie. The pointy corners of the unopened letter jabbed at his palms. He scowled. He wasn’t evil and he wasn’t going to turn evil either. No matter what others think. Plaxum’s mother might be the exception but he’s not even going to go there.

His fingers rip off the flap on the crease, a neat, straight as an arrow line. He tosses the flap in the small trash on the bus. Foregoing a seat he wraps a hand around a yellow pole and waits out the bumpy ride. His other hand in his pocket slowly tore the rest of the envelope on the crease until he could slip out of the letter. He briefly thought that maybe he should wait until he’s around a source of water.

No matter what’s inside you don’t have to do anything it says. It doesn’t have to change you, okay?

Keith’s mouth pinched at the implication. Steeling his determination he took out the letter and let it unfold on its own. Emotions shoved to that dusty box in the back of his mind he started reading the familiar handwriting.

There’s nothing to change.

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch.5 Ch.6

Ao3

[cruelfeline]

can I just flop into your inbox and despair for a hot second about how like. bewildered I am over the lore of spop??? I thought about doing this as proper asks but then it got... long.

Sure! Anyone can flop into my inbox c:

idk if it's me and I'm just dumb and not getting it?? I've gotta go back and comb through the show I guess bc the wiki and google and the internet at large are the opposite of helpful.

but no okay the show kept saying that the first ones were basically - etheria's first settlers or whatever the hell right?? something along those lines? am I remembering this correctly? that's why the etherian's CALL them the first ones? (I mean but Prime did too didnt he now that I think about it. I'm not sure why he would though, the context for why the etherian's would use the term and why he'd use the term are different?) ugh whatever, like I said I gotta go back and comb through but I wanna say that the implication was that the first ones were the...First Ones to be on etheria. which is like....??

Mm... it’s a bit unclear, but Mara speaks in a way that highly implies that there are native Etherians already on Etheria when the First Ones arrive. One of them being Razz. 

I doubt that Etherians really know much about their own history; their records seem sporadic to me, so they may or may not know that the First Ones weren’t actually the first sapients on the planet.

And Prime doesn’t really call them the First Ones; he simply acknowledges that that is what Adora and the Etherians call them. I don’t recall him calling them anything specific.

bc then when it comes to the whole, heart of etheria thing, and the runestones, and all of that? and then the princesses? I'm honestly just so confused as to how it all is supposed to fit together. bc then uh where did the five royal families come from to begin with? were the runestones there from the start? were those five families magically connected with those runestones from the start or were they only connected and whatnot after the first ones were all like "hey so uh, if you synch up to this rock you can do cooler magic" but then if etheria was already being ruled by several different courts of elemental royalty or wtf ever, then they couldnt really call themselves the first ones. but Also it's just (and I think you've addressed that the showrunners seem So Much More Interested in telling the catradora gf drama angst saga then fleshing out their world building lmao) it's kinda just like... why do all of these families only have one child? why do each of the princesses of power not have a sibling? like what if - considering mooooost of them seem to be orphans lol - one of them trips down the stairs and smacks their head on the floor and dies?? I guess uhhh, now your kingdom doesn't have a ruler??

So, my understanding of the runestones is that they were devices created by the First Ones in order to enhance and better control the magic of those naturally in tune with certain elemental aspects of the planet. I don’t think this is explicitly stated in canon, but I assume as much by extrapolating from the purpose of She-Ra’s sword. As we learn over the course of the show, the First Ones did not create She-Ra, but they did create the sword. She-Ra is an Etherian entity, some form of planetary guardian or what-have-you, and the First Ones created the runestone sword in order to control that entity and incorporate it into the Heart of Etheria. I would assume that the other runestones serve a similar purpose.

Now, as far as our current Etherians not knowing this: this is a fairly common sci-fi trope. The idea of the original purpose of something (usually some form of advanced tech) being lost as information is lost to the ages is often used to facilitate protagonists not immediately knowing what a thing is for. Like... oh, if you’ve ever read the Dragonriders of Pern series. That’s a good example: Earth colonists land on a planet, find it inhospitable, genetically engineer empathetic dragons to help fight the threat, and... well, people live there for generations, forget their origins, regress technologically, and just assume that there have always been dragons on Pern.

As far as single child Princesses and whatnot: likely a by-product of the show already having a million characters, and siblings not being needed for the plot! I mean, the show already had enough to deal with; no need to add more fluff.

and yeah it's a kids show but it doesnt ;__; none of the any of it makes sense to me.

what is the Heart of Etheria even supposed to Do again??? like we know it's a superweapon that channels magic and like, Mara trapped etheria in despondos 1000 years ago so my soft theory is that the first ones were maybe using it as a last ditch effort against Prime? I mean is the sword just.... gps coordinated to fire at prime regardless of where he is in the universe or whatever?? bc I mean at that point is prime on etheria's doorstep?? I don't! I dont understaaaand.

Well, since it never fires, we cannot know for certain, but Death Star-style planetary destroyer seems logical. 

I do like the headcanon that it was actually a last ditch effort to defeat Prime, especially since we now know that the First Ones fought him and apparently lost!

This is an interesting concept to me because, while their colonization of Etheria is widely regarded as Bad, because colonialism is Bad, the idea that they did it in order to try to save their own lives, and potentially the lives of others in the universe, makes the situation far more morally grey than it might initially appear. Yes, their colonization harmed the Etherians, but might it have been worth it, if they had succeeded and killed Prime a thousand years ago? Would that have prevented the genocides he committed on other worlds? Would sacrificing Etheria have been worth it if, say, a thousand other inhabited planets had been spared as a result? Not a set of questions the show asks, but meaningful ones, in my opinion.

why does Prime want it? like is he not under the impression that messing with it is gonna like... pretty much blow up everything within a big ass huge af radius? he said something or other about purifying the universe and starting over or some nonsense like that but??? like you'd be dead too my guy. you might be egotistical and narcissistic and vain af but I dont think he's that stupid as to think he's somehow immune to giant fricken explosions.

Oh, I think he has some idea of how to survive it. He can body hop. He is, in some sense of the word, eternal because of that. If She-Ra hadn’t stepped in, he likely would have succeeded in continuing his existence. The way he speaks, one may even infer that this sort of thing has happened before.

But, hard to say! Thankfully, we don’t have to find out c:

and I'm just. I just wanna know more about the spop world at large you know?? like. I just want All the world building and backstory and explanations to things. I have so many questions.

anyway sorry for kinda dumping this giant wall of shrieking nonsense in your inbox I'm just like. I dont... I dont get it. I dont get any of it lmao and I wanna get it! like the whole universe of this show could be so cool and so fun and interesting but it's like... some of the pieces dont seem to.. f i t

yeah

Ah, such is the burden of a world that has only enough worldbuilding done to facilitate its story, no more and no less. But! At the same time, this means that we as viewers can infer many things from canon and fill in the blanks with whatever we prefer. Leading to a lovely variety of fandom content to amuse us for some time to come c:

[passiveinsane]

Fic Recs

two weeks of procrastination special!

Teen Wolf

Support by Epibreren | stiles isn’t in the loop au

In which Stiles and Derek are dating, and Stiles is under the impression that Derek is a furry.

Welcome to Rosie's Diner can I interest you in an eye-opener? by crossroadswrite | diner au

An entire diner is shipping sterek because they believe they’re a couple. Stiles and Derek, of course, are not (yet).

i wait for you like a lonely house by bleep0bleep | future au

“Derek isn’t sure why he buys the house.”

The (Figurative) Death of Destructo-Derek by newtypeshadow | Werewolf boyband au

“Derek Hale is a clumsy destruction magnet.

Except that he isn't. Unlike everyone else, Stiles can see the curse obstructing Derek's senses and tangling his limbs and causing increasingly destructive accidents. And now that the curse is turning deadly, Stiles is damn well gonna break it—whether Derek Hale believes it exists or not.”

Foundations by Spooks, thesuninside

“Spooks: Yanno, I can't believe that for a show set in California, they didn't do anything with natural disasters.”

Somewhere to Start by Lissadiane | fantasy au(???)

Beauty and the beast au where Stiles is half-fae, Derek is the heir to the Hales, and they’re both in the middle of a political ploy.

Special Order by bleep0bleep | stiles is a food critic au

Stiles, world-renowned food critic, wanders into the restaurant and life of Chef Hale.

dude, it's wednesday by stressingbisexual | series

Stiles is a twitch streamer, and other than that it’s canon-y.

adhd??? i think you mean GAYdhd amirite ladies by weeabooty

If the title isn’t convincing, there’s nothing to say.

Give Me Shelter by WonderWolf

Animal shelter volunteers au, where Derek gives punny names to cats and Stiles picks up more than one stray.

tie your napkin 'round your neck, cherie by magneticwave

“In the low light from Scott’s candles, Lydia is breathtaking. Jackson is still a butt-ugly lizard monster, but he looks like he’s having a religious experience with Stiles’ trifle, so that’s validating in a weird sort of way.” Please read this, it’s so good, cackling will happen.

Once Upon a Time by lady_ragnell

“Five fairy tales Stiles isn't the hero of, and one he might be.”

CSI: Beacon Hills by Jerakeen | restricted work, must have ao3 profile to access

“Back when Stiles was in high school Beacon Hills didn't have a crime lab, because they simply didn't need one. Those were the days.”

Werewolf Daycare by dinolaur

Stiles is forced to take care of the pack: toddler versions. Derek is not useful.

coffee housing by kellifer_fic

Superhero!pack au.

Kiss the Cook by idyll

“Derek's a professional chef, and Stiles is a blogger who butchers his recipes.”

At All Costs by forestofbabel | time-traveling stiles

“Stiles is sent on a mission in time to protect Derek Hale at all costs. He doesn’t know why Derek Hale is so important to the future, but Stiles takes his mission seriously.”

Stiles Stilinski and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day (Well Maybe It Wasn’t That Bad…) by thegirlgrey

Stiles has a very bad day, and then a very good one.

This is Ridiculous by zosofi | future au | Explicit

“There's a unicorn in Beacon Hills. A fricken' unicorn. In fricken' Beacon Hills, California. And it turns out that unicorns aren't drawn towards virgins in a happy-go-lucky let-me-lay-my-not-at-all-metaphorical-horn-in-your-lap way. No. They kill them. And guess who's the only virgin idiotic enough to get sucked into the Beacon Hills supernatural scene? Stiles, that's who.”

Hallowed Grounds by damnfancyscotch

“Everything in Beacon Hills is the same when Stiles comes home from college.

Well, except for the fact that he's a published author now, Scott is halfway across the world with a travelling circus, Erica's epilepsy has been cured, her boss offers him a job too, and there's this weird black dog that seems to be following him around just to judge him.

Oh, and the murders, of course.

But other than that stuff... totally the same old BH.”

Unofficial Stiles Stilinski by elliot_edison | series

“ "So you're the boy he was complaining about the first week of school." Derek tried to remember what she was talking about. When he did, he decided it was his turn to want the world to swallow him whole.

"What?" Stiles frowned.

"Oh, it's nothing bad, sweetie." His aunt Hazel (who has a weirdly calming affect on everyone, which he was grateful for) assured him. "Peter, dear, remind me, what were his exact words?"

"I believe they were something along the lines of 'he spent a whole hour yelling at me and covering me in hello kitty band-aids. I think I want to marry him.'" Peter gave him a look. "Right?” “

Half-hearted Contestant by LadyDrace | not!fic

Stiles is on Derek Hales’s bachelor TV show, but he’s mostly (mostly) there for the food.

Sparkly Pens by mm_coconut | Explicit

Journal entries by Stiles (and Derek.) NSFW

ATLA

Swear by naggeluide

“Toph grew up in the Earth Rumble, and Zuko went through adolescence at sea. Neither of them are shy about using profanity.”

NDRV3

Liar's Gift by booperbeanv3

Ouma gives a bento box, homemade, to Shuichi. They’re dumb and gay.

The Way to a Man's Heart (is through his stomach) by orphan_account

“Shuichi wishes he had at least an hour to think of a response to that, but he doesn't, so he just stares dumbly back at Kokichi. Then, there's a forkful of pancake and strawberry directly in his face. Does Kokichi really expect him to let himself be fed like that? On the same fork, even? When Shuichi doesn't bite, Kokichi frowns again. “Come on, one bite?” His bottom lip juts out, and Shuichi has to wonder if Kokichi can tell that he is hopelessly infatuated after a handful of interactions. It's so bizarre to him, the way he feels like the biggest idiot on the planet and the luckiest guy in the world to be the subject of Kokichi's attention.

And that is decidedly too much emotion for being offered a bite of pancakes, but Shuichi also hasn't ever been in a situation quite like this one before. Every word out of Kokichi's mouth feels like a test and Shuichi just wants to know the right answer. It's overwhelming.”

kokichi is gay and shit at cooking: the saga by hejustkeptonyoing

Crack, but also incredibly funny crack.

Marvel

Bring Your School to Work Day by notoneforreality

“Or yes. Clint waited all of ten seconds for everyone (tonight: Tony, Bruce, Steve, Bucky, Clint, Natasha, Pepper and Peter) to take their seats at the long dinner table before gleefully announcing that Peter had a field trip to the compound next Wednesday. Peter, sat between Bucky and Nat, opposite Tony, buried his face in his hands.

“Lord lend me patience or a handgun.”

Two separate guns were thrust into his field of vision by two separate hands, and Peter blinked. Bucky and Nat narrowed their eyes at each other and Tony snatched both guns away before Peter could touch either.

“Absolutely not. Creepy Russian sensibilities away please.”

Bucky tried to slip Peter a knife, but Steve caught him at it and confiscated the weapon.”

@pbparker by fromstarttofin | twitterfic

“peter parker @pbparker

what i was expecting when i woke up:

-to study for my finals -to eat some captain crunch -for mr stark to brief me on the press conference

what i was not expecting when i woke up:

-500 ??? thousand ??? followers ??????????”

[badlydrawnstuff]

Labry AU, part 7. \o/

It had been days since Labry was last seen. Most of Hell’s inhabitants did not care- He was probably up on the surface, or dead. It didn’t matter.

The three that did care were perched on the roof of the old hospital.

“Should we really check?” Cherry asked her sisters, looking down at the entrance. “I don’t want to end up--”

She was cut off by Sherry, who was grinning. “Fight him? Yeah, me neither. I just wanna grab his ass again! He’s got such a great butt.” Wyne sighed, and Cherry put her head in her hands. Wyne turned, and leaned around Cherry to punch Sherry. “We’re gonna darn check on him, whether ya’ll like it or not! It ain’t like we’re booty calls for a gay man!”

They discussed the matter an hour more before finally voting 2-1 on going in. “If I can’t grab his butt, what’s the point?” was Sherry’s only defense- Which was ignored by both Cherry and Wyne. The two glided down to the entrance and promptly went in, leaving Sherry alone. With a shout of surprise, Sherry hurried after them.

-

Cherry was not amused. Having been the only one to find the stairs, she tried to lead her sisters by voice alone. Unfortunately, they were hopelessly lost, and Cherry went on without them. They’d be fine.

Finding Labry himself- if he was actually here- turned out to be a difficult task for Cherry. She had checked half the hallway so far, with no signs of life. She’d called his name out, as well, to no avail. He’d usually meet visitors with a threatening glare and choice words, not silence.

“I don’t think he’s here, ladies!” Cherry called out, her voice echoing down the hall. From the other end, which Cherry hadn’t checked, came Wyne’s voice.

“Then who’s this fella I’ve come across?” Ah. Wyne had found him.

Bumping the door open a bit wider, she found Wyne seated on Labry’s lap. Labry himself was sitting cross legged on the floor, his gaze locked onto the floor. “We’ve got a sad lookin’ cowboy tonight, Cherry.” Wyne pointed out, lightly prodding Labry’s face. He didn’t move, merely glancing at her. True to her statement, he did seem down.

“What’s wrong, Labry? Do you finally need to get laid?” Cherry joked, seating herself to his right.

“No.”

Just no? Cherry raised her eyebrows and tilted her head, gazing at him. Sure, he was cute, but that wasn’t why she was staring. Sherry, having finally caught up, quickly sat on Labry’s left and placed her hand on his rear. He only looked at her, not even bothering to stop her.

Sherry quickly caught onto Labry’s mood, and moved her hand to his shoulder. “Talk to us, soldier! You look sad.”

Labry was uncharacteristically quiet. He looked around the room, an unsure expression settling on his face. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, if not a tad hoarse.

“Who was I to you three before I lived down here?”

Only Wyne responded. “You were our pal, cowboy! We’d stop n’ chat with ya whenever we’d see ya!” Labry nodded, before asking a new question.

“Was I like how I am now?”

Wyne was unsure how to respond. Taking up the speaking mantle was Cherry, who shook her head. “If you mean sad, definitely not. If you mean being loud and violent, only the first one! Your bark was way louder than your bite.”

Again Labry nodded, thinking about this answer. Sherry decided to raid a nearby duffel bag. Both Cherry and Wyne ignored her.

-

“Are you trying to remember stuff?” Wyne finally inquired after a period of silence. Labry grunted and nodded, possibly looking sadder than before.

Again, they sat in silence, the only sounds being their breathing and Sherry rustling through the bag. They sat like this for a couple of moments, before the quiet was shattered by Sherry triumphantly yelling “I found it!”

“Found what?” was quickly asked by both Cherry and Wyne, to which Sherry held up a dust covered cell phone. “I thought it might have something on it!”

Cherry smiled while Wyne took the phone and brushed it off. “You’re good for something after all, sister!” Sherry pouted, whining that she was great for all sorts of things. Not bothering to respond, Wyne handed the phone to Labry.

Labry looked at it like he had been handed a foreign object. The slightly scratched screen, the colorful cover, the charms- They all seemed unfamiliar to him. He only stared at it, until Wyne gently took it from him, and turned the power on. “Might be a tad better if it’s on, cowboy.”

Labry found himself staring at the background- a photo. He swiped the apps out of the way, curious. The background contained five angels, most of which he barely recognized.

In the middle, a purple angel, a wide grin on his face. He was presumably holding the phone to take the picture. His other hand was pulling on a blue angels mouth, to make it seem like he was smiling. This blue angel, Labry recognized.

On the shoulders of the purple angel, a white angel rested. Labry recognized this one for sure- Merkabah. He’d met Labry the previous week. His gaze next went to a green angel, looking directly at the camera. Labry squinted- He’d attacked this angel multiple times. Tearing his eyes away from her, he looked at the last angel in the shot- a red angel that was looking down at the others. Labry faintly recognized this angel, too. He’d killed this one in combat.

Thinking about them, his heart tightened. Had they been important to him? The blue angel certainly had, with how Labry felt sadder just looking at him.

Labry would have been perfectly content staring at the home screen background, if not for Sherry urging him to check the photo gallery. Opening it warily, Labry was met with well over one thousand pictures to look through. “Good fricken’ luck, cowboy,” Wyne mumbled, looking almost offended at the gallery’s size.

They spent well over an hour looking through the photos and discussing them- At least, the succubi did. Labry was still strangely quiet, rathering to simply observe. The gallery was full of other angels, or pictures of the purple angel in front of things.

Finally reaching the end, they found a picture that told Labry what he wanted to know- If this phone was really his. It was a picture of Labry, when his feathers had still been falling out. He’d snuck the picture in a mirror when he’d been dragged clothes shopping by the succubi.

“That’s me...” Labry muttered, earning the surprise of the succubi. “You can speak?” Cherry teasingly asked, lightly prodding him again. “Yeah, that’s you. You know what else is you?” Eyebrows raised, Labry replied in the negative. Cherry leaned over and started the gallery over again, showing the first picture- One of the purple angel with a brown angel child, both smiling widely.

“The purple angel is you, cowboy!” Wyne announced, pointing at it.

Labry nearly dropped the phone in shock, something inside him shattering to pieces- His heart, perhaps? Sherry patted Labry’s shoulder, watching his face. “If we’re gonna talk about the old you, we’re gonna use your name! You’re still Raphael to us!”

Labry stared, mouthing the name. “That was my name? Raphael..?” It sounded strangely right to Labry, despite not recognizing it.They discussed this for a few more minutes, before Cherry noticed the time and panicked. They had jobs to get to! The succubi hurried out, saying rushed good-byes and good lucks, leaving Labry alone again. He looked down at the phone, his shoulders drooping. Just how much had he changed?

[writingevil]

One Word at a Time

by E.L.B 1.8k words

There’s something so satisfying about handwriting. When the ink in your pen flows smoothly onto the paper and the words and letters align in that beautiful way. The subtle scratch of graphite as the writer’s hand moves across the paper desperately trying to keep pace with the pace their mind is setting. Amy knew the satisfaction of having a word erase beautifully with no smudges or the subtle bliss of scratching across a page until her fingers had dents and cramped up. Amy knew all of this but she was more familiar with the clicking of keys as her fingers raced to keep up with the meeting her boss was having. Amy knew the annoyance of being asked to go get coffee as soon as she sat at her desk. What made it worse was her boss was really freaking hot, too.

Amy’s boss was in charge of finding good stories for the publishing agency they worked for. She sifted through unknown authors and bribes from well known authors. Amy was in charge of taking notes when her boss met with authors or agents or idiots. It seemed like the last one had a lot of meetings. Amy knew by now not to face her boss during these meetings as the first time she had gotten distracted by the way her hair fell from its ponytail. God, that woman pissed her off sometimes. She had once stayed so late at the office she had dark circles under her eyes the next day and she still looked like fricken Aphrodite, which is just not fair. 

Amy was really intelligent, too, not that her boss would know that when every time Amy made eye contact with her she suddenly forgets all her years of cleverness and turns into a blushing, mute, mess that can only apologize. 

“Aims?” her boss’s voice spoke through the intercom. “Can you bring me the notes from my meeting with Franklin?” 

Amy grabbed the notes on the incredibly boring book Franklin was writing. She had read over them since the interview and guessed from the bored tone in Franklin’s voice and by the flat plotline that he had no real interest in this book. It was a typical boy meets girl story except the boy was actually a fairy and the girl is troubled be cause she ‘loves’ him but obviously they could never be together. Eventually the girl makes the choice to become a fairy and leave her entire life behind, a loving family and promising school. Amy thought the entire thing was just a bit too Romeo and Juliet for her taste. 

Amy brought the notes to her boss’s office while thinking about how stupid it would be to have yet another heterosexual teen romance out in the world. Her bosses office always had the strange but nice smell of fresh paper and ink. Currently her boss sat behind the desk with her face turned towards her computer, her brown, curly hair pulled back into a ponytail. She wordlessly held her hands up for the notes which Amy gave her. Amy turned and made her way back to the door but was stopped by her boss clearing her throat. 

“Amy, sit down a minute please,” her boss said gesturing to the chair in front of her desk. Amy felt her stomach jump to her throat as she pulled the chair out and sat stick-straight in it. “What’s your opinion on Franklin’s new piece?”

Amy was shocked, “M-my opinion, ma’am?”

“Yes, yours. You’re intelligent and your notes reflect that but I would appreciate a different opinion on the subject,” her boss said making Amy flush under the steady eye contact.

“Well, in my own opinion ma’am, I think Franklin’s new piece is frankly... bullshit.”

Her boss leaned back a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of her lips, “Strong words in description of a very famous author. Why?”

Amy gulped looking down at her hands, “It’s just another Romeo and Juliet love story. The boy and girl fall in love and they live happily ever after. The worst part is the Juliet character doesn’t even try. As soon as he shows interest in her she’s willing to throw her life away and change everything about herself just to please him. We have enough stories like that affecting young girls. Both characters are the simple cookie-cutter characters we see in all the stories; nerdy, white, straight girl falls for jocky, white, straight boy. We have enough romances like that already.”

“Many would say because those stories work for the public.”

“Many would also say that it promotes heteronormality to young teenagers.”

“And if you had the opportunity what would you write for today’s youth?”

“A queer romance with racial diversity but with a plotline that doesn’t center around the romance.”

“Wouldn’t you be afraid of people attacking you for being too forward thinking?”

“No. As a child I would have loved to see a female character whose role was more important than ‘which guy should I change myself for?’ that’s not how real healthy relationships should be.”

“How long would you take to write this?” Her boss asked leaning forward.

“W-what?” she asked taken aback. She looked up to meet the piercing grey eyes of her boss.

“Well, here’s how I see it. Franklin’s been given a deadline of two months but continues to try and push for more time. If you can give us this masterpiece of yours before him then I don’t see why I can’t at least consider it. Unless of course you don’t think you have the expertise to write such a story,” her boss had her pinned under her gaze.

Amy already had a story she was working on in her free time about a bisexual girl pining after a beautiful girl that had just immigrated from India. She quickly went over it in her head, changing minor details. “I could get you 100,000 words by the end of this month.”

“100,000? That’s quite a high goal.”

“I already have a story with 50,000 words that fits the necessary criteria.”

Her boss looked at her, “Blow me away. You have thirty days from now.”

It was like a cold breeze slapped her across the face. Could she do this? Amy stood on shaking legs and nodded before rushing to her desk and clearing it off. She scrambled for the items her fingers were already itching for; her notebook and a nice, wooden pencil. She had thirty days of splinters, dented fingers, coffee stains, writers block, and typing to look forward too. She was addicted to the way the pencil felt as it flew across the page. 

For the first week she wrote every spare moment but still found she was loosing valuable thoughts during day to day things. Amy expressed this concern with a coworker while her boss was up getting coffee one day and the next day there was a marker attached to a necklace laying on her desk. Amy begun jotting down ideas on her arms if she was in a meeting or busy in some way. The first time she came in to give her boss coffee she caught her looking at her arm.

“The girl she’s interested is an immigrant from India?” her boss asked.

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“What do you know of immigration?”

“Um, not much my grandparents were from Germany but we didn’t see them often.”

“Try making her a third or fourth generation that way it’s easier to write and you won’t have to do as much research,” her boss said and shushed her protests. “You have twenty days and this will make it easier. Your next story can have a first generation and you can overdo your research then.”

They went on like that for a while. Her boss would give her tiny suggestions when she looked like she was stressed out. About halfway through the month she had her main plot down and was now filling in with subplot and backstory. One night after going on a late tangent she lost track of time and was soon the last person in the office. Her boss walked out and stopped and looked at her before leaving. Five minutes later she was back with two coffees.

“Late night?” she asked.

“My character did something stupid and now I want to delete the last thousand words I wrote.” Amy said gratefully taking the offered coffee. 

“Well, we can’t have that,” her boss said causing her to look up just in time to see her boss twist off the delete key from her keyboard.

“You bit-” she covered her mouth and her boss grinned at her.

“I can be, see you in the morning, Aims,” she smirked sliding the delete key into her front pocket and walking out the door. Amy didn’t get her delete key back for two days.

When her story was finally finished with just the right amount of emotion and drama she suddenly found herself unable to turn it in. She stared for hours at the screen, rereading the entire story. After a day she could find nothing more she wanted to add. She stayed late that night reading over her notes and then the story.

“Go home, Amy,” her boss said gently shaking her shoulder from where she had fallen asleep at her desk. 

“Just ten more minutes, ma’am.”

“You have five and I am driving you home.” 

“W-what?”

“We both know if I leave you here you will not be gone in ten minutes and you are in no state to drive yourself,” her boss said sitting next to her and checking her phone for the time. 

“It might take longer than five minutes to print, though,” Amy said softly.

“What? It’s done?” Her boss said standing and trying to look at the screen.

“Yeah,” Amy said.

Her boss sighed, “I will read it in the morning, after you and I have both had at least six hours of sleep.”

The next morning Amy put in the tiniest bit more effort into her appearance. She brushed her short hair and actually tried to make sure none of it stuck out at odd angles, it was no use, though, because her hair was at that awkward, short length where the last thing it did was listen to her. She stepped into her work space and immediately pulled up the story and clicked print before she could change her mind. She nervously made her bosses coffee and grabbed it on the way to her bosses office. 

Her feet turned to lead as she got nearer to the office. She breathed in deeply lifting her hand to knock three times on the door before waiting for the acknowledgement and pushed in. She set the coffee down first and then set down the folder. This was her finally standing for what she believed in. This was her trying to change the world, one word at a time.