#i feel like shes.... the last hero id buy a skin for

[dnarez]

Chapter 9 - My son, My mom

[Kind of rushed, sorry for the fast pass]

After taking the train to Fukuoka, Keigo's home city, you went to the adress that was on the official Hawks's Agency site.

You decided to walk, the weather was nice, but it could use a little wind, so you pointed your finger to the sky and made a loop like drawn with it, wind started to blow lightly, but because of how sudden it was some skirts went up, and you saw a newspaper hit a men in the face.

The path was very calm after that, but on the contrary of the outside, you were panicking on the inside, heart throbbing with anxiety, but you didn't allowed your feet to stop moving.

'What if he doesn't recognize me? No... I know that I have a little more breast, and may have some grey hair but-! It's Keigo! I want to see him! He's probably busy... what will I tell them to let me in?... oh! I can use my commission ID!!!'

You finally were getting there! The building was clear as day to you, you walked a little faster but calmed yourself down before going next to the receptionist.

"Hello, I came to see Hawks" you said with the typical 'business' voice

"Sorry hun, you can't, no fans allowed" she said not looking up.

"He's expecting me" you crossed your arms.

She looked at you up and down "That's kinda hard to belive Miss, since his schedule that I take care of doesn't have anything about MILFs"

You glared at her and showed your ID "Maybe there is something for the hero commission"

The girl paled at the card "Yes ma'am, I will tell him right now" she took the phone and called him... "Yes I know but-... It's the commission sir... she didn't- okay... yes sir" she hangs up the phone "last floor big wood door, there's no way you can miss it"

You nod to her and hold yourself back from running to the elevator, when you get there and see yourself on the mirror you frown.

Your face is starting to have marks, the scar on your chest is hidden behind your shirt, but the ghost feeling of the knife going through skin and breaking your chest bones was terrifying to remember, so you closed your eyes and focused on your breathing.

But closing your eyes made part of it worst, the flashbacks of those nights that you had to sell your body for information.

The "ding" from the elevator brought you back to today, taking a deep relived breath you get out of the elevator and go to his office door.

You knock three times, the business like knock made you cringe, but it's the way you alway knock.

"Come in" you heard his voice, and just that made you smile.

The pictures of him were everywhere on the internet, he was a very handsome man, extremely smart, kind, loving, and nothing of it was thanks to you... because you went away.

You closed the door behind you and saw that he's doing paperwork, a lot of it, the piles were even on the floor, but he had no feather on his wings "You are two hours early, this better be important, I am the number two pro hero after all" he didn't looked up from his papers, just kept writing.

Even if you saw a dozen of pictures trying to get familiar with his face, you just couldn't  be prepared enough for this.

That small child that loved to laugh with you, that ate your food with a big smile, that had nightmares and would run to you, your son... was a grown up, and you weren't able to watch any of this.

His birthdays, fights with instructors, his teenager phase, his first crush, first love, first kiss, him being an ass to the higher ups and you would have to buy ice cream for him later... all those especial moments were lost, away from you.

Keigo heard sobbing an someone started to cry, when he looked up he was in total shock. "Mom?" His voice was barely over a wisper

"Keigo I'm so sorry!" You fell on your knees and bowed down.

(For those that don't know, this is the type of bowing that it's taken very seriously on Japan, as it represent that you are truthfully sorry, it's called Dogeza)

Hawks jumped from his chair and run to you "MOM GET UP!"

"I'm so-so sorry! I didn't have a option! The mission was so long! I there were moments that I though that I would never see you again! Must have feelt so alone, must have thought that I abandoned you! But I swear Keigo! Lil birb! My son!" You raise your head and look at him kneeled in front of you "I MISSED YOU SO MUCH! I'M SOR-"

Hawks hugged you tightly "Y-you came back!" You hug him just as tighly.

"I would never dream of leaving you alone, my boy" you sink your hand on his hair and scratch it, your other and pets his lower back "I'm so proud of you Keigo, you did such an amazing job all alone"

"I wasn't alone!" He break the hug and you see his face.

"I had you with me all this time! Your coat, a-and your diary! Your dairy had so many advice in it! I always felt like you were with me, but I missed you so much mom! Are you-" he takes a deep breath and you pet his hair "are you going to stay?"

You nod quickly "Of course! There is no better place in this world for me than by my son's side" you both hug each other.

"Mom!" He buried his face on her neck, hiccuping like the little boy he was to you.

"My baby birb, you did so well until now, you truly are awesome as fuck" you kiss his cheek and he sighs.

After all you were here holding each other's hand, he felt like a weight lift from his shoulders.

"Let's go to your house, I can prepare anything you would like" you separate the hug and get up.

He nods getting up too "I want  that fried chicken you do! I never found a place that does it like yours!"

You both talk and clean each other's face.

This was true happiness...

................................ Important!

This is the ending... but not exactly,  this is actually the end to this part of the history.

Now there's still something's going around, like when hawks fights dabi, Y/n will help Aizawa with classes, Y/n had a close relationship with AFO on her mission.

But technically it ends here, the rest of this book will takes twice as long for me to do.

If you follow me on my tumblr and/or Ao3, you know that I wrote 7 works until now, to which I'm currently working on 3 constantly and 2 from time to time.

So I hope you all can keep reading my work.

[finaldreams1106]

Royal Blue Part 8

Tag list: @lost-writer-on-the-loose, @professional-idiocy

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7]

Villain closed their eye again, exhaling slowly. They focused on inhaling, just as slowly, struggling to lower the sudden jackhammering of their heart.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, voice still distant. She hadn’t entered the room yet.

Villain inhaled again, the deep breath buying them time to think. They still hadn’t figured out the organization’s intentions. Royal had distracted them. Briefly they wondered if that had been part of a plot, but why delay at all if that was the case. Though, Villain still didn’t know what it was they were delaying. They exhaled. “I am better than before,” they hesitated, then decided against adding a ‘thank you.’

“I’m here to escort you,” Superhero said.

Villain’s inhale caught in their throat as they imagined where they were to be escorted to. Their chest constricted; they couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think.

“Whoa, relax,” Superhero was standing beside them, they hadn’t heard her move, “you look like you’re about to pass out.”

Villain choked as they tried to bite out a retort, they couldn’t think of something to say and instead only managed a garbled sound. Emotions welled some mad conglomeration of fear, despair, rage, something else that they couldn’t recognize. They clenched their eyes tighter, suddenly aware of the wetness. No. No they would not cry. No. They were better than this, they had survived once, they would survive again.

They could hear Superhero talking, but they couldn’t understand any particular words. A piercing ringing noise filled the room, drowning out words and thoughts. Then everything stilled as a hand landed on their shoulder, warmth spreading from the open palm. Villain sucked in a deep breath, eyes flying open as they collapsed back onto the bed. They had been tense, straining against the restraints, practically lifting themselves off the bed.

“What is wrong with you?” Superhero asked, her hand still on Villain’s shoulder.

Villain shrugged it off quickly, still breathing quickly. What was wrong with them? They looked up at Superhero, noting her wide eyes. Not fear, no, who would fear them in these circumstances. Villain let a harsh laugh slip; no she was concerned. “Nothing,” he said, “just, a . . .” they trailed, they could claim physical pain but that would surely just be the same as weakness. “It’s nothing.”

She clearly didn’t believe them, but she didn’t say anything more. Just grabbed his little hospital bed and started wheeling him out of the small room.

“Where,” Villain swallowed as their voice cracked, “where are we going?”

“Debrief.”

“Oh.”

They didn’t pass anyone else in the hallways, Villain tried to focus on memorizing the path. Anything to distract them from what was surely coming. The corridors were simple white painted brick, occasionally broken by steel doors. Each marked with nothing but a small number placard beside it. As they wheeled past several Villain failed to see any pattern, with numbers jumping from 4 digits to 1 and back.

Superhero cleared her throat, but she didn’t say anything.

Villain wondered if she was thinking of her reprimand of Jamie. If she had been about to explain something herself.

Several minutes later Superhero stopped beside one of the many steel doors and flashed an ID badge across a sensor. The door opened automatically, and after a couple of attempts, Superhero managed to get Villain’s bed turned enough in the narrow hallway to get through the door. It clicked with a hermetic hiss behind them.

“We’re here,” she said, pushing Villain farther into the dark room. Lights started to flicker on as they moved in, revealing a desk and two chairs. Villain didn’t see any tools, but that didn’t mean much. Supervillain always brought whatever toy of the day they planned to use with them.

One chair was lined with straps, electrodes hanging loose. They closed their eyes, willing the scene to disappear. Wishing the last year had never happened, wishing Royal had never helped them on the street. If he had just left well enough alone Supervillain never would have kidnapped them. They clenched their fists as the realization struck, young naïve little Royal Blue had ruined them. It was laughable. They had clashed with dozens of minor heroes, and even a couple Superheroes over the years, and yet it was a new hero in civilian clothing that had finally brought about their destruction.

“So,” Superhero spoke haltingly, “I suppose this is the part where I ask you nicely to get in the chair.”

Villain did laugh then, “you want me to willingly climb into an electric chair?” They wondered if the organization planned to train them like some pet. Look how compliant our latest prisoner is, they’d walk off a bridge if we told them to. The city is safe!

“Electric chair? It’s a polygraph machine. . .” Superhero sounded like she was trying not to laugh. “Look, Villain. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m, I’m sorry about the whole hand over mouth thing, okay? I wasn’t planning on transporting a Villain and, well, you’re less dangerous unconscious.”

“So why don’t you hand over mouth me into that chair?” Villain asked, feeling petulant as they tried not to let themselves hope again.

Superhero sighed, “I will if you don’t cooperate.” She pulled a case out of her pocket it, and opened it to reveal a syringe. Grimacing, she snapped it shut again and shoved it in her pocket, skin turning a little green. Though Villain supposed it might have been the lighting.

They eyed her suspiciously, “swear on your honor as a Superhero that you’re telling me the truth.”

Superhero sighed one eye twitching. Then she inhaled deeply, her whole body lighting with an aura of power. “I,” she started, her voice different more solid in the air, “Elise, the hero known as Adhirth, do promise you that I have spoken truly.” She exhaled, letting the aura flow back into nothingness.

The room darkened, and Villain let a breath loose that they had not realized they were holding. “Fine, I’ll get in the chair,” they muttered, not looking at the duller version of the superhero beside them, “though I don’t have a fancy show to put on.” There was silence for a second as Elise/Adhirth began loosening the cuffs. “Your name is Elise?”

The question had slipped out, they hadn’t planned on asking it. But the woman simply nodded, then extended an arm to help Villain climb out of the bed.

They hissed in pain as the new movement started to open their wounds, a fire spreading from their side.

“You can feel pain still? That’s quite a physiology you have, the doctors said they dosed you up quite a bit.”

Villain grimaced, realizing too late that the organization had no idea who they were or what their powers truly were. They had given away what might have been a critical advantage with a moment of weakness. They settled into the chair and focused on their breathing as new straps started tightening around their wrists, ankles, and head. Once they were properly secured Elise slipped a glove over their hand, it was heavy with wires and sensors and tightened it so they couldn’t knock it loose.

Then the walls disappeared to reveal nearly a dozen people sitting in a gallery. Some in their Superhero uniforms, and some in scrubs. They jumped at the crowd but immediately chided themselves. Of course, there would be additional guards, had they decided to fight the organization could not have let them loose. Elise faded back into the crowd, standing beside Royal Blue towards the back. Royal's eyes were wide, he didn't glance up as Elise stopped beside him. Someone else stepped forward, walking towards the desk.

Shit, what had she said? “I’m not going to hurt you.” She wasn’t going to do anything. Apparently, Jamie was.

Villain gulped as the man sat across from them and smiled. “Let’s get started, shall we?” he asked, his voice light.

[hitsuackerman]

Soul Chicken (Hawks x Reader)

Prompt: Soulmate AU where the first words your soulmate says to you are written on your wrist and while Hawks has an absolutely unhelpful phrase written on them, y/n has something....unique.

(so this was generated by an OTP one shot generator and it caught my attention :D it was... challenging to say the least but still fun!)

contains: 4 year age gap (not that ya’ll would mind), fluff

Soulmates.

This was the one thing Hawks always managed to save for later. With just how fast he likes to move, he regularly shoved the idea aside. It was as if his mouth acquired a bitter taste each time it entered his train of thought.

How did this enter his mind once more? Oh right. The two people he had saved turned out to be soulmates. Such luck for them, he supposed.

Not that he didn't care, though. This bird child-man always dreamed of seeing who the universe had paired him up with. But to his luck, the letters etched on his skin were almost cursed. Cursed to the point where he merely gave up his search.

The first words his soulmate would tell him. The first words that would open new doors for his feathers to explore. Despite keeping his smirk pasted on his face, his heart would ache when he hears people saying it.

'Hey'

Those were the words inked on his inner wrist. A 3 letter word that was as overused as the word 'you'. How in heaven's name was he supposed to find his other half with every other person greeting him 'hey' with different variations.

Munching on his piece of chicken, he cleared his desk and began to look over the files his agency prepared for him. Laid on his desk were the profiles of possible interns he could gather intel from.

"Todoroki Shoto." He read and scanned the bio data. Endeavor would not be happy if he took him in. As tempting as it would be, he placed it on the discard pile.

"Bakugo Katsuki." His pupils shrunk at the memory of this kid being chained to the post. All while trying to bite off All Might's hand. "Little too wild for my taste."

"Tokoyami Fumikage." He immediately stamped the approval sign on it. A fellow bird in his agency? Hella fun!

"(L/N) (Y/N)." The 4th placer in the UA sports festival. His eyes drifted to your age. "Huh, interesting. Eldest of the class due to late enrollment and personal issues. 18 while the rest 16."

Nodding his head, your quirk wasn't too flashy but made up for its efficiency. Similar to his Fierce Wings. With his index finger tapping on his desk, he turned to his desktop and began digging up information about you.

Orphaned at the age of 6 due to villain attack. Jumped from foster house to foster house, a trouble maker? Top 2 in the class, makes up for intelligence? Pleasing to the eyes. Not bad, if he were to put it more into thought.

Biting the last chunk of meat, he approved of your possible application in his agency.

-----

"Yami…" You nervously whispered as you gripped onto his sleeve. "I'm nervous. I don't understand why he'd include me as a possible intern "

"Nonsense. You proved yourself worthy during the Sports Festival." Tokoyami tried to reassure you. Behind you, the window gave him a grand view of the city moving fast.

The two of you were now seated snugly inside the shinkansen. Because it was in the afternoon, the train wasn't as crowded despite buying reserved seats in advance.

Tokoyami's words seemed to work. Letting go of his now crumpled sleeve, you apologized but he simply told you it was no big deal. Looking at your hero suit cases, your eyes landed on your wrist.

It always made you wonder, what situation would your soulmate say those words. It was all too… random yet specific. Rubbing your thumb on the rather long phrase, your thoughts were cut.

"Is that… what your soulmate is supposed to say?" Tokoyami asked as he read the sentences. "Rather unique to say that on your first meeting."

"Ugh. I know." You sighed and tugged your sleeve a little lower. "I honestly gave up thinking of scenarios on how I'd meet this person."

"You are of legal age. I think it would be much easier to access places. But seeing those words, maybe you just have to look for people eating?"

"That's true but I think a part of me just wants to be surprised as to how we'd meet and how we'd exchange phrases. I did think this person would be at a fast food chain or some sorts, but I'd like to think he's responsible enough."

Tokoyami simply nodded. Looking down on his wrist, he too, began to wonder what circumstances would bring him and his soulmate together.

Feeling the train come to a halt, the two of you began to exit and board off the train. It felt like a blur, to be saying farewell to faces you see everyday. Though it would only be for a week, you would miss Ochako and Tsuyu.

When the high rise buildings were now in sight, Tokoyami nudged your elbow and pointed to a hero holding up a sign with your school's name on it. As the two of you walked towards the hero, you saw how the sign truly matched Hawk's Agency.

Ah yes. Hawks.

Your anxiety began to creep back up. Why would a pro-hero like him want an orphan who went to school late intern for his agency? Was this some sort of pity party? Or was your quirk enough to catch his attention?

"Calm down, (L/N)." Your friend whispered as he opened the car door for you. You sat in the back as he sat on the passenger's seat.

"Are you all excited to meet the #2 Pro-Hero?" The hero asked as he set the car to drive. His cheeks gave off he was smiling from your angle. "He's a pretty chill guy, you know. So if ya'll are anxious, he'll only catch that and make fun of you."

"How long till we reach the office?" Tokoyami asked.

"2 blocks from now. It's that building over there."

The two of you followed where his index was pointing at. It wasn't easy to miss. The building was huge and it was evident that his office was on the top floor. From your eyes, it would be the perfect height to take off for his wings.

The hero dropped the two of you by the entrance. Thanking him for the ride, 2 sets of eyes watched as the car turned to the corner. Probably to park in the underground carpark.

"Shall we?"

"We shall."

The two of you proceeded to the receptionist. Judging by your uniforms, the two of you were given key cards to enter his office on the 35th floor.

"He's still out, though. Make yourselves comfortable. He won't be taking too long!" The receptionist said with a smile as she pointed towards the glass elevator. That got you thinking fire drills must be a pain in the ass with this amount of floors.

The view going up felt as if you two were flying. The way the horizon slowly showed itself was something you could look forward to for the whole week. Your bird friend agreed as well.

When the elevator doors opened, you two were met with a frosted glass wall with 2 capital 'H' on it. Similar to what his belt had. It was nice tho. Branding on point.

Before you could enter, you heard the buzzing of a phone. Feeling it wasn't yours, you looked at Tokoyami and told him it was alright for him to take it. Telling you he'd follow suit once the call was over. Pushing the door for you, you walked into his office. 

The office was definitely expensive. Glass windows framed 3 out 4 corners, his desk was simple but you could tell that the material was durable and expensive, 2 large paintings hung on the wall as well. Most probably commissioned since it fits Hawks image.

Walking towards one painting, you were about to touch the edges when your vision began to blur. Your body felt as if it were being tugged into the air rather forcefully. Harshly spinning you around, you were face to face with the Pro-Hero himself.

Your heart raced when it sunk in that it really was him. He was more handsome in person. His piercing yellow eyes seemed to observe you. Watching your every move.

His hands began to roam your sides. Patting motions till he seemed to find what he was looking for. Taking it out from your pocket, his gloved hand now held on to your ID.

"Hey!"

His eye twitched. You were officially the 15th person who had said 'hey' to him in a span of 4 hours.

"I swear that phrase would be the death of me." Hawks reacted in an emotionless face. Trying his best to compose himself to a student who merely wanted to feel the painting. "Tsk. Knew that last nugget was bad luck."

Though it wasn't his intent to scare you, he just thought it would make a good long running joke for the duration you would stay. He just… snapped when he heard those words coming from you.

Looking back at you, he placed you back on your feet and took off his yellow visor. A big teasing smile appearing on his features. Complete opposite to what yours had.

"Hey, take a chill pill, my little intern. I was just messin' with ya." Hawks assured you as he gave you the finger guns.

"Y-You… S-S-Sentence…" Your mind failed to function upon hearing his first to you. The same words you had memorized and knew by heart. Your eyes were desperately trying to hold on to something but all you could focus on was Hawks and his crimson red wings in front of you.

The look on your face was a mix of shock, fear, and a slight dash of awe. What did he say that made you react that way? All he commented about was…

His mind clicked and his jaw slightly dropped. His pupils enlarged when he finally bought 2 and 2 together.

"Holy pidgeon smokes…" Hawks thought out loud while nodding his head. "Looks like things are bout to get interesting, my little soul chicken~"

You couldn't help it. A soft giggle escaped your lips when he called you his 'little soul chicken'. By now, you were positive your cheeks were all sorts of red. When he took a step closer, you bit your lower lip in an attempt to calm your rapid beating heart.

"Don't bite your lip now, birdy. We just met." He said as he used his index and thumb to make you face him. Damn. You're prettier up close.

His feathers seemed to shake a bit and he let go of his touch. A second after, Tokoyami entered the door and bowed at his new mentor. After telling him there was no need to act all business like, he pointed towards the couch and told you both to sit down.

"So today," Hawks began. "I won't let you both do much. Just get settled in and take the feel of this agency."

His eyes would linger at you when he said the words 'settled in' and 'take the feel'. When he saw you understood his implied meanings, he gave you a wink and proceeded with the necessary instructions.

"Tsukuyomi. Your room would be on the 27th floor." He said and tossed the keycard. Tokoyami caught it with ease. "And you, my precious love nugget, will stay on the 30th floor."

By now your face was numb from all the heat that had traveled upwards. Expecting him to toss it, the key card was given to you by one of his feathers. Taking it from the floating feather, your breath hitched when the feather found its way to your lips. Brushing it ever so softly before returning back to his wings.

Tokoyami wasn't quite sure what was happening. He had heard that Hawks had a carefree attitude, he just didn't expect him to hit on you right then and there. (Though he did have a feeling that at one point you were bound to get bombarded with his flirtatious attempts.)

"So… Any questions?"

"What time do we start tomorrow, Sir Hawks?"

"We start at 7am. That good?"

The two of you nodded. With that, he dismissed you both and gave you free will with what you wanted to do on the first unofficial day of internship.

"Not you though, chickadee!" The way the light bounced from his golden eyes made them glow. "We still gotta talk."

Tokoyami squinted his eyes at you. His peripheral vision on Hawks. Brushing the thought aside, he excused himself and went towards the elevator.

When you heard the ding, your heart stopped when Hawks stretched his wings. Showcasing their impressive span. They began to shake a bit with each step he took. He would spread his wings and pull them back half way before extending them once more.

By the time he was in front of you, you were all smiles as he began to fold his wings alternatively. It was all too amazing, how this person had wings as a quirk. In the blink of an eye, all you could see around you were his feathers and the gorgeousness of his face.

"What was that for, Hawks?" You covered your mouth. Trying to hold in a giggle.

"Hey. Don't. I like seeing your smile." He said as he gently held your wrist, pulling it down to reveal what his eyes wanted to see. "And that little exhibition I did was a small mating call, soul chicken."

You began to fold your arm and imitate how chickens flap their wings.

"Not as impressive as yours, but I hope that did the trick!" You were now grinning from ear to ear. Seeing him chuckle at your lame attempt at flirting caused his stomach to swarm with little lovebirds.

"Oh. It definitely sealed the deal~"

His hand began to trace your arm till he stopped on your hand bringing it closer in order to see his first words meant for you.

'I swear that phrase would be the death of me. Tsk. Knew that last nugget was bad luck.'

"I can see why your eye twitched when I said 'hey'. That's literally the most overused word." You commented when you saw his mark.

"That's what I tell myself everyday." An amused grin plastered on his face. Suddenly, his pupils shrunk and his feathers began to ruffle. "You afraid of heights, birdy?"

"Not really. No. Why?"

His arms wrapped you tightly. Bringing you chest to chest with him. His wings now spread out with the occasional flap.

"Hawks…"

"Better hug me tight, nugget. You're in for a wild ride~"

Giving your cheek a quick kiss, he flapped his wings once more. This time with a bit more force in them. You could feel your feet leaving the ground. On instinct, you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck.

Next thing you knew, you were screaming with joy at the feeling of being swooped away from your feet. Literally.

Little did you know that Tokoyami had been watching the whole fiasco.

"Things really are going to get interesting." He said with a small smile on his face. Happy that his close friend found her soulmate.

With that he finally exited the office and made his way to his room.

[draco-kasai]

Hero Collaboration Program

Chapter 2 pt. 1: Welcome to The Program! --> 

Chapter 2 pt. 2                                            Find Chapter 1 here!

Story Summery: High School Hero Collaboration Program! Helping Sophomore hero students connect with others around the world! Come join us for a two-week-long trip to one of our schools for an amazing once in a lifetime experience with students of Yuuei! Only a lucky 40 students will be selected for this program. They will be split into two groups of 20 and sent to different schools to have completely unique experiences!

AKA; A very bitg crossover fanfic I started because I can’t help myself. I adore all of these characters and hope I had done them justice, though I did take many backstories and threw them into the meat grinder to remold them in a way that fits this universe. Also, I love 1-A but I also want to take them down a peg or two... I also just want to see them get their asses handed to them.  

A/N: Here it is! Chapter two! I hope anyone who decides to read it enjoys!

Alfred Freedom Jones practically bounced out of his bed in excitement. All the exchange student’s had arrived around 7PM last night in hopes for them to receive enough rest and get used to any sudden time change and jet lag. He and Valerie - a teacher of the school where they conduct part of the program - had wanted to be the ones to pick up and welcome all the kids. However, They were tasked with any last minute decorating to make the dorms presentable and welcoming and preparing dinner, that way the kids would have food in their bellies before they headed to their dorms and began unpacking and going to bed. 

The dorms of the school are located right behind the school itself. Although they were especially made 15 years ago since the program had begun, they are used for other purposes throughout the year to not go to waste. When students find themselves in situations where they need a place to stay, they are welcome to speak to a counselor to explain the situation, where they are given a room key and a ‘job’ as a tutor or teacher's assistant as well as have mandatory counseling to ‘pay off’ their stay. Sports clubs are also welcome to apply and stay in the program dorms during the summer for training camp, and many clubs even enjoy having sleep-overs for a few days as a bonding activity. 

This year has been one of the few where nobody has found the need to stay in the dorms throughout their school year. Alfred could almost cry for joy at that fact. Not only is there no student in the school facing such problems, but there won't be a random kid trying to sneak into all of their activities. It’s endearing when it happens the first few times, but the moment you have every one of those students trying to sneak into amusement parks and other field trips with the exchange students they’d become attached to, making you buy them a ticket on the spot to not just send them back, it becomes a little of a problem. Needless to say, he and Valerie have started carrying extra money with them on field trips.

Last year was a new one. Instead of them just buying a ticket on the spot, the two seniors that were with them had been snuck onto the bus and into six flags. They had somehow convinced the shy Brazilian boy to use their quirk to turn them into mice for an hour, so they could sneak in.

Everyone that enters a theme park nowadays are given quirk suppressant bracelets, that are custom-made for each theme park with designs, shapes and looks, that they must wear during their stay and return when they leave. The senior students were somehow able to get their hands on some when they transformed back, inside the theme park.

 Everyone was very smug when they explained to Alfred and Valerie how exactly two seniors not in the program and without tickets got into the theme park. Even the shy boy seemed proud that so much was accomplished with their quirk. As illegal as that is, he couldn’t help but feel a little proud of how they had just outsmarted the system. Although that didn’t stop, he or Valerie from lecturing them. His kids were very apologetic, and tried to make up for it by paying the teachers for the two students tickets by all pitching in.  He had avoided Aizawa’s questioning stare at the two students the whole day and allowed Valerie and the kids to keep him busy.

All things considered, Alfred and Valerie might not be the best choices as chaperones for the students, since they let them get away with shit when they know they’ve been outsmarted. Their superiors don’t have to know. Although the teachers praise them for being so innovative, the two teachers always make sure to drill it into their brain how important following the law is and how they shouldn't abuse their quirks in such ways. They also make sure to explain what kind of consequences such actions can cause, especially if they were pros. 

The reason they don’t kick them out of the program or anything, though, is because they are kids in training for a dangerous profession. They deserve the opportunity to have fun and act their age every now and again. Sure, they usually end up realizing how idiotic many of their ideas turn out to be, but it’s best they start learning now than mess up later and have their careers ruined for it. He and Valerie have kept in contact with kids who had graduated too! They have all become wonderful heroes, even if they had pulled quite a few pranks during their time in the program.

Adjusting the prescription glasses on his face, Alfred grabbed all the lanyards with cardholders attached to them and made sure each of the students program ID’s, room and key cards were there. He was going to hand them out last night after dinner, but all the kids seemed too exhausted, so he and Valerie had led them to their rooms to go unpack and rest. Once he was sure all of them were there, he grabbed his own lanyard. Wrapping it around his jeans' belt loop, he grabbed a folder and stepped out of his dorm. 

Looking at his watch, he realized it was 9:01 AM. They had told the kids to set their alarms, so they should be awake and getting ready by now. Going over the schedule he had memorized, he noted that they all had to be in the cafeteria at 9:45 for a late breakfast. After, they would head over to the large field separating the two dorm buildings for group activities. Since the students are all jet-lagged, they are free from classes till Friday, tomorrow. It may be a program for training, but they're students, can’t let them all fall behind.

 Making his way down the hallway, he began knocking on doors to the boys rooms on his floor. “Head down to the common area in ten minutes! Wear something comfortable for physical activity!” he called out as he made his way down all 12 doors. He could faintly hear Valerie doing the same downstairs to the females. 

As he walked towards the stairs, he spotted a few students already following behind him. He had even spotted a few of the girls walking behind Valerie, already attempting small talk. Once in the common area, he and Valerie smiled at the kids that followed them down.

“You kids are free to enjoy yourselves with anything you’d like while we wait for the others.” Valerie’s chipper voice practically sang as she spoke. “The remote to the TV is on the coffee table, the pool table racks are on the wall over there, the ball for the foosball table should be in one of the goals, and you are free to explore the field, just don’t go too far.” 

Both adults watched in amusement as the students stared around in awe. By the time the ten minutes had passed, all the students were scattered throughout the field, or common room. It hadn’t taken long for the two adults to gather them all up outside. One of the students had been quite sociable, going around speaking to everyone.

“Alright students ~!” Valerie sang as she closed and locked the sliding glass door behind her, “Since we still have time before we have to head over for breakfast, let’s all introduce ourselves properly to one another.” 

Alfred gave the kids a two finger salute as his partner took her place next to him, “Wassup guys! I’m Alfred Freedom Jones! Call me Mr. Jones! I’m a representative of the Hero collaboration program! I’ve been to both schools and have been doing this for 6 years! I was actually a student of this program when it was established! I hope you all enjoy yourselves while you are here!”

“Hello~! I’m Valerie Felicity Frizzle! Please, feel free to call me Miss. Frizzle or even Frizz, as many of my kids call me. I have been teaching in Marina high school for 19 years now. I was actually the teacher that had convinced my coworkers and the district to sign our school up for this lovely program! Truly, it has been a wonderful joy to meet and work with such wonderful children! I hope you all have a glorious experience and take home with you something new~!” The woman curtsied, showing off her dark purple dress that depicted outer space in beautiful patterns and colors.

“Now then! Your turn guys! Anyone want to go first, or shall we popcorn it? Maybe left to right? Choose someone and let them choose after? Whatcha guys up for?”

Both teachers watched in amusement as they watched the kids glance around at one another. They had seen some of them already starting to make some friends. Five of them seemed to get along well while playing foosball. Two had played 8-ball while conversing with two other students that watched with interest. Some of the others kept to themselves while watching TV or hanging around outside. Hopefully they are able to make some friends too. Just as Miss. Frizzle prepared to call on someone, a green arm raised up.

“Me! Me! I would love to go first!” The boy’s grin widened as everyone's gaze landed on him. Everything about him was a different shade of  green, from his skin to his hair and eyes. He wore a white tank top with an unbuttoned short-sleeved button up that has Disney dogs printed all over it, and loose, knee-length jean shorts. A boy at the other end of the crowd of students with green eyes and a serious face jolted in surprise and sank a little into his seat once he noticed him. 

“I like your enthusiasm, kid! Alright! Let’s hear it! Ah, don’t share any quirk information, though! We have a little activity planned later, and staying anonymous would be the best course of action.” Alfred grinned just as wide in response. 

“Okay!” He bounced over to stand between them. It was unnecessary, but it looks like it’s a thing now. Both teachers could see the discomfort that had settled on a small handful of students at the thought of standing in front of strangers to introduce themselves. “Hi! My name is Garfield Mark Logan! You guys can call me Gar! My name can be quite the mouthful. My hero name is Beast Boy and I came from San Francisco, aaand oh yeah! I’m Vegetarian! It’s nice to meet you all -! Oh my gosh, Damian! Hey dude!!” 

Said boy groaned as he facepalmed. A few people in the group held back their laughter as best they could as Garfield rushed over to him. Grabbing the sleeve of Damian’s jacket, he dragged him to the front of the crowd, “You practically ghosted us, dude. This is your punishment. Introduce yourself.” 

Damian almost stumbled when Garfield pushed him before retreating back to his spot next to a boy with green highlights in his hair. Letting out a heavy sigh, he fixed the sleeve to his hoodie and straightened his black V-neck shirt. Clearing his throat, he spoke, “Hello, I am Damian Wayne. It’s a pleasure to meet you all. I suppose if I am going off of Garfield’s introduction; my hero name is Red Bird, I came from Gotham in New Jersey, and I am also Vegetarian.” Green eyes scanned the crowd before pointing to a boy with light brown hair wearing a tie diy shirt. “You go next.”

“O - oh! Um, okay.” The boy stood to his feet from his place on the concrete, “Hi, uh, My name is Rudy Tabootie. I live pretty close actually, Burbank, to be exact. Uh, I’m not vegetarian… sorry? Uh, my Hero name is Snap. It’s really cool to meet you all.” and just like that, all the introductions went, and the group found themselves in the cafeteria for breakfast with their new lanyards. It wasn’t long till all the student’s exited the cafeteria and made their way to the field between the dorms. 

“Alright guys! We want to explain a few things with you before we start today’s first activity!” Mr. Jones clapped his hands together, excitedly. 

“I’m sure you have all noticed how the special guests, the main reason for this program, Yuuei isn’t here yet. Well, they will all be arriving tomorrow. However, you will not be introduced to them until Monday.” Miss. Frizzle smiled widely, the students before them began murmuring to one another in confusion.

“Um, Why?” A girl with pearl white skin asked. She wore light gray joggers, a sky blue tank top and had her cobalt blue hair tied up in pigtails. Jenny Walkman.

“The answer is simple! The students of Yuuei have had the whole school year to train and get to know one another, as well as their abilities. Needless to say, they all know how to work together.” Miss. Frizzle explained, “For this reason, our program is set up to allow all the exchange students to have time to get to know one another as well as each other's quirks and skills, so you may be able to work together when needed. This way, when we do battle training, everything would be on as equal footing as we can get.”

Mr. Jones nodded beside her, “Which is why all weekend, as they rest from their long flight, get accustomed to their surroundings and have fun sightseeing, we will be doing a bunch of group activities to get to know one another better. That way, when we begin battle training…” He trails off, hoping someone would finish for him. He wasn’t disappointed. 

“We’d at least be on equal footing against them.” A girl with long red hair that she had tied up in a ponytail responded. Wearing a green crop top, and dark blue cargo pants, she crossed her arms over her chest, a smile crossing her lips slightly at the plan. Kimberly Anne Possible

“Precisely!” Miss. Frizzle and Mr. Jones sang together.

“Today’s activity, drum roll please,” Miss. Frizzle happily made the sound effect for her coworker. Mr. Jones held up a dodgeball, where he got it, nobody knows, “Dodgeball!”

Chapter 2 pt. 2  

[dadoroki]

Every Comic Has A Story

Tomura Shigaraki x Reader

Warnings: softboi shiggy, fluff, swearing

Summary: When Japan’s most dangerous villain meets a witty and flirty comic store clerk.

The mall was unsurprisingly packed, as it was the weekend. Everyone had something to do or somewhere to go. Shopping for items, chatting with friends. Not for Shigaraki though.

After his tight encounter with Midoriya, he walked the crowded mall all alone, stuck in his own thoughts. How could he become stronger? To become better than Stain? To defeat All Might? His thoughts would be dispersed when a loud angry voice boomed from his right side.

“How many times do I gotta tell you kids? This stuff is 18+!” Shigaraki turned his attentive gaze towards your voice, a voice that could instantly gain anyone’s attention. Well, aside from how loud it was. He slowly walked into the store, staring at a messy rack full of comics but secretly eavesdropping on the conversation.

“Ma’am, I’m 18! See?” The boy handed you an ID card, one that instantly made you aware of how fake it was. The card was poorly constructed and taped for crying out loud. “You all look 12. Now get lost before I call one of those bad guys to come down and beat your asses.” The boys ran out of the shop in a hurry, fearing for their lives. You turned your attention to the new customer who wore his black sweater a bit too suspiciously. “Aye, you.”

Shigaraki calmly turned his head towards your direction. He was sure to cover his face, hanging his head down low. “You’re lookin’ hella suspicious. Did you come here to shoplift?” He stood in his place, squinting his eyes at the ground. Were you always this talkative and annoying? “Are you profiling me?”

You were taken aback by his response, moving your hands and shaking your head frantically. “Uh, no. Not at all. Sorry.” His face filled with annoyance, moving to grab a random comic and walking to your counter. You glanced at the book he chose, ‘Pretty Princess Diaries’. A giggle couldn’t help but escape your lips, causing Shigaraki to grow more agitated. You reached under the counter and grabbed a more suitable comic for him. “I think you’d enjoy this better. It’s about the psychology of the villain, Memphis, and how he defeats the heroes.”

There was no reason as to why he even stepped foot in the comic store but this was perfect for Shigaraki. It would give him many ideas and ways to help in the current situation he was in. However, he wasn’t willing to pay the price. “I don’t feel like buying this.” He began to lower his final finger on the cover page, ready to deteriorate it. That way, you’d be frightened by him. “Oh, don’t worry. It’s on the house.”

He removed his entire hand completely away from the comic, watching you take it and place it in a white bag. Confusion was the only emotion he was feeling. You handed him the bag with a smile. Even though you could barely see his face, he strongly caught your interest. He looked mysterious and interesting. Or maybe you’ve just been reading too many romance themes. “If you like it, come back and get the next one.”

Shigaraki looked at you with disgust, fully aware of the love eyes you sent him. He mumbled a quick “sure” and left the store, hoping to never step foot inside ever again.

When he got back from the long travel, he tossed the bag to the side and slumped on his cold bed. He glanced at the plastic bag before pulling out the comic and taking a long look at it. A dark matte cover, red cheapfire font imprinted in the center, and underneath was the main villain. Shigaraki had nothing else better to do so he decided to read only a bit of it. Going from one page, to thirteen, to forty, until it reached the end. He wasn’t aware but it was already 4am in the morning.

Shigaraki entered the store, the same place he refused to step foot in again. He placed the white bag on the counter, setting his empty hands back in his pockets. “I need the next one.” You could barely understand him through his mumbling, causing you to lean in closer. You noticed a few of his hidden features. His fragile face, chapped lips. Chapped lips?

“Nah, what you really need is some chapstick for those crusty ass lips.” You grabbed your cherry lip balm from your purse, holding it out to him with a wink. “You can have mine. It’s my favourite flavour.” Shigaraki snatched the item from your hand, shoving it in his pocket with a huff of annoyance. Your flirtatious presence really started to get on his nerves.

This would be his last visit to you and he couldn’t wait to leave but then, a thought popped off in his head. He needed a pawn to do his dirty work. The work that he nor his group could carry out due to the huge attention it would gain. He needed someone who was as easy as you. “You know, you’re quite a view.”

You raised a brow, not expecting the sudden compliment. “Oh, thanks.” Shigaraki wasn’t the best at flirting but he needed to try in order to fully wield you in. “When’s your lunch break?” You sat straighter in your chair, a smile slowly forming across your face. You weren’t really sure when but you knew your friend would cover your shift if he knew about the situation. “I can end now. Eijiro!” You called in the back room. “I need you to cover my shift please.”

Without even waiting for a response, you grabbed your purse and stood beside an irritated Shigaraki. He didn’t expect to be hanging out with you so soon and wasn’t fully mentally prepared for your excessive energy. It was going to be a long dreadful day.

You both sat on the edge of the water fountain, ice cream in hand. It had only been an hour and Shigaraki was ready to end himself. You gladly licked your ice cream while he sat still, staring at you. Everything about you annoyed him. The way you sat perfectly under the mall sunroof or how graceful you looked eating your ice cream. You took notice of the way his pinky extended away from his cone. “What are you, British?” You pointed at his finger, causing him to look down at it. “I don’t think all British people do that.”

You shrugged your shoulders, standing up from your spot. He followed your movements, his height causing him to look down on you. You embraced him in a tight hold, feeling the rigidness of his body. “I had a great time. By the way, what’s your name?”

He wasted no time in saying his name, incapable of standing your presence any longer. “Shigaraki.” Finally, you’d regret spending the day with him and leave him alone. You stood there silent in confusion, resting a finger on your chin. “Huh, like the villain?” Holy shit, this girl was dumber than he thought. “Anyways I gotta go. Come by tomorrow so we can do this again.” You left him speechless, standing all alone in the middle of the busy mall.

He was sure of giving up. You weren’t worth all the mental suffering but here he was with you again, walking around the same mall. Earlier, he had mentioned how he hated holding hands so instead, you linked your arm with his while he had his hands in his pockets. The big advertisement sign of skincare caught your attention, stopping you in your tracks and making him do the same. “Look Shigz, we should go in. You need that.”

You looked up at him with a cheeky smile, causing him to groan in revulsion. He wasn’t sure why he was going along with it. Applying chapstick was enough for him but to you, if it worked on his lips, it would definitely work on his face.

He noticed all the skin products on display, walking down the extremely bright aisle. He heard his nickname being called and turned around, feeling your soft hands rub against his face. “You said you had a skin condition so the employee recommended me this.” Shigaraki watched as you ran your fingers from his face, all the way down to his neck. He never recalled feeling another human’s touch in such a caring way.

You both made your way towards the counter, paying for the product and leaving. To his surprise, he actually bought the cream. The very first time in his life, he actually bought something instead of stealing it. You were a bad influence on him and his work and he needed nothing more than to depart from you.

“Shit, it’s almost time for my shift.” You stood on your tippy toes, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek before steadily jogging off. “I’ll see you soon!” Never in his life had he been given such affection. Shigaraki touched the area of where your lips had kissed with delicate fingers.

That night, he tossed and turned in his bed, struggling to find sleep. You were an internal battle to him. On one side, he hated your guts and wanted nothing more than to escape from you. On the other, he hated to say it but he enjoyed your company. The way you made him feel something he’d never felt in all his years of living. He decided at that moment, he’d confess to you. No, nothing romantic in any way but strictly his identity. The identity that you somehow failed to process.

“What do you mean she doesn’t work here?” The next day, Shigaraki stepped foot in the comic shop, only to be told you weren’t there. The new clerk adjusted his glasses. “I’m sorry, sir. You’re gonna have to describe her.” A now frustrated Shigaraki grew heavily impatient, not having the time to deal with this. He realized he never asked for your name, a stupid rookie mistake he made. “She’s this short, (y/h/c) hair, (y/e/c) eyes, a little slow, annoying, and dumb.”

The man shook his head with a puzzled face. “I’m sorry but I just started working here and I don’t know much of who works here.” Shigaraki scratched his neck, seconds away from decaying him but restraining himself. “What’s the point of asking me that question then?”

He walked out of the store defeated. Shockingly, he didn’t reach over the counter to kill the goof. You really were a bad influence on him. A moment of walking later, he felt a tap on his shoulder. “Shigz.”

He recognized the fine voice all too clearly. He started to broil in anger. In a matter of seconds, he quickly spun around to face you. “Where were you? I tried visiting you and you weren’t there.” You were astounded, never witnessing Shigaraki this mad before. Usually, he was calm and quiet. “I quit my job. They weren’t paying good.”

He closed his eyes, letting the stress leave his body. “Listen closely.” He opened his red eyes which met yours. In that instant, he wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted to express how he felt but his feelings were too complicated and corrupted. “Like I said, I’m Tomura Shigaraki. The leader of the League of Villains.”

“Uh, yeah. You already told me.” He paused in perplexity, having the inability to speak or understand the situation. What did you mean you already knew? For the longest time, he thought you weren’t the brightest and he was okay with that. You began to laugh, trying to maintain it with a hand clasped on your mouth. “Did you really think I didn’t know? It was pretty obvious, Shigz. I just wanted to get to know you as you. Not how everyone sees you.”

He stood motionless feeling flabbergasted, allowing you to grab onto his arm. “I never asked you for your name.” If he never mentioned it, you’d had completely forgotten about it. “(Y/n).”

“(Y/n)” He trailed in a slight whisper, repeating after you. “Why don’t I take you on a proper date?”

With the biggest smile that warmed Shigaraki’s cold heart, you held him in closer.

“I would like that a lot.”

[smol-and-grumpy]

Something Just Like This - CH34

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester, mobster boss. He’s a little cocky, a lot ruthless and more often than not, short tempered. But he’s also, Dean Winchester, a war veteran and hero who suffers under a shit ton of PTS. He met her in a bar and thinks it’s fate that brought her to him. Little does he know why she’s really here.

Warnings: There’s so much angst in this I’m still sorry.

WC: 4685

SERIES MASTERLIST

..A YEAR LATER

.

.

“A Lambo, Cas? Really?” Dean’s laughing as Cas shows him his newest buy. “I didn’t give you so much money to waste it on a Lamborghini!”

“Thank you! That’s what I was thinking too!” Anna chimes in, “We almost had a fight when he came home with that...thing!” Anna gestures at the car in their driveway. 

Dean’s invited for dinner at Anna and Cas. Right after Y/N left, Cas stayed behind for a bit because he was worried about Dean. It was hard to get out of the funk but Dean also mainly did it for Cas. He didn’t want his friend to be worried about him. Anna and Cas have moved out of the city, pursuing the happiness Dean still chases.

And now he’s here because Cas wants to go through the details of his wedding which will take place in two months and Dean is his best man. Dean couldn’t be happier, really. If anyone deserves a fairy tale ending, it’s definitely Cas. 

“Yeah, I know now that it’s a bad choice.” Cas calls out as Anna’s already making her way back inside to set up the table. He rolls his eyes when Anna doesn’t see but Anna shouts back, “Stop rolling your eyes!”

Cas then turns to Dean, “What do you really think of it?”

“I don’t know, Cas,” Dean says, takes a sip from the beer, “It seems over the top. I don’t think your dick is small enough to drive such a car.”

“Yeah, and now that Anna’s pregnant we should maybe get a family van.”

“What?”

“Yeah, you heard me.” Cas chuckles.

“Wow,” Dean huffs out, “Congratulations, man!”

“Thanks. I’m terrified, though.” Cas says, half smiling.

Dean has to laugh at Cas’ expression. “I can imagine.”

“And you? How are you?”

Not a question Dean likes to answer but he does because it’s Cas, “Good,” He says and takes another sip, “Yeah, I’m good.”

“Good.” Cas nods, but doesn’t say more and Dean appreciates that. “Come on, let's go eat.”

 *

 When they reach dessert, Dean’s phone vibrates but he doesn't want to be rude and pick it up until Anna asks him if he doesn’t want to take it.

Dean fishes his phone out of his pants and looks at the caller ID. It’s a number he doesn’t recognize. He looks at Cas and Anna and nods, stands up to take it in the hall. 

“Hello?”

After that, everything’s a blur. He feels nauseous and all he can answer is “Yes, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

He goes back into the dining room, his hands are shaking and he breaks cold sweat on his forehead. 

He doesn’t even know what to do so all he does is stand there, his hands on the back of a chair, holding it real tight because if he doesn’t, he thinks he’ll fall.

“Dean, is everything okay?” Cas asks.

“Yeah, you’re a little pale.” Anna adds.

“Huh?” Dean grips at the chair, his knuckles are turning white. “Yeah.” Dean says but then he looks around, not sure what to do or say.

“Dean.” Cas stands up, is about to walk over to Dean.

“Y/N’s in the hospital Cas. Car accident.” 

“What?”

“Yeah, exactly.” Dean tries to smile, it doesn’t work.

“Will you go? Is she here in this County?”

“I-I...I don’t know. And no, it’s two hours from here. She’s still in surgery. They found my name as her ICE contact on her phone. Could just be that she forgot to change it.”

“You should go.” Cas lays a hand on Dean’s shoulder. 

“And tell her what?”

“Well, if you wait too long, chance is you might not be able to tell her anything at all.” Cas says and fishes a key out from his pants pocket. “Take the Lambo, it’s faster than your Baby.”

Dean chuckles, “Fuck off.”

“Now get out of my house, Winchester!”

 *

 “Why did you leave?” Dean mumbles to himself as he goes through what he wants to say to her. There’s also, “What are you doing now?”, “Are you happy?”, “Why did you think running away was your only option?”, “Did you think I would have killed you?” and also there’s “Did you really love me as much as I loved you?”

He parks in the parking lot and runs in, almost knocking someone over. Dean gives his name at the reception and to his surprise, he was given the room number without further questions.

Dean takes the elevator, his heart’s thumping super fast in his chest.

The door to her room is open, there’s a nurse and a doctor helping her settle in. Dean feels a strong sense of deja-vu. 

“Mr. Winchester?” The doctor approaches him when he sees Dean.

“Yes,” Dean manages to say even though his throat feels dry.

“The surgery went well. She suffers from a trimalleolar fracture on her left side, meaning her ankle is fractured in three different places. There’s dislocating of her shoulder and some bruises.”

“How long does she have to stay?” Dean asks.

“When she’s awake again by tomorrow and wishes to go home, she can. They will need to check her before she goes and the police will need a statement.”

“Okay, good,” Dean says, he still doesn’t look at her, “Because she hates hospitals.” Dean adds.

“That’s understandable.” The doctor says and walks out of the room, leaving Dean behind.

And there’s really no going back now, he’s here and he has to face her.

Slowly, he walks over to her bed, there’s a drip going into her hand and her leg is elevated. A bandage around her arm, another bigger band aid on her forehead. 

“Shit,” Dean curses, and he gets angry, feels like punching something, but he’s not angry at her, never at her. Right now, he’s mostly angry at the guy who drove into her. 

For the first time in over a year, Dean lets his fingertip skim over her face, tucks in a strand of hair. She looks the same as she always does and that makes him angry too. She hasn’t changed and he was still not able to find her. 

He makes himself sit down in the chair, takes her hand and squeezes it before he places a kiss on her knuckles. He lets go, sniffs once, pinches the bridge of his nose, tries not to cry.

Dean leans forward, rests his forehead on her arm, feels the warmth of her skin. “Baby,” he whispers and he closes his eyes.

 *

 The next day Dean’s back at the hospital as soon as visitor hours open. 

She didn’t wake up before the hours were over yesterday so he had to go home. She’s awake now, sitting on her bed, head propped up on the pillows, staring into nothingness.

Dean stops before he goes in, lingers at the door. His heart is beating stupidly fast.

Y/N tilts her head, flinches quickly before her gaze settles on him. “Dean?”

He exhales, feels like he’s been holding his breath since last night. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“How? Why?”

“I’m apparently your emergency contact.” He walks closer, sits down on the chair he’s been in last night.

“Oh, no.” She closes her eyes and clasps her hands over her face. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“Too late now.” Dean shrugs, doesn’t mean for it to come out as snappishly as it does.

“Look, I’m okay.” Y/N says and adds, “There’s no need for you to be here. I can manage.” 

“Can you?” He raises an eyebrow at her and his gaze falls on her broken ankle. “Go on, call someone else to come take care of you and I’ll leave you alone.”

He watches her purse her lips, watches her nibbling at her bottom lip and then she pouts and it’s not fair. It’s ridiculous how much he’d missed that fucking pout. 

She lets out a frustrating groan, and slams her good fist without tubes hanging out of it on the bed. 

Dean looks at her, amusement in his eyes. “I thought so.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know, but let’s not talk about it. Let’s get you out of here first.”

“No,” She says, “I’m sorry they made you come out here. You must have more important things than being here.”

“That’s my problem, and not yours.”

“But,” She pauses before she adds, “thank you.”

Dean just nods and takes out his phone, thumbs through it and he doesn’t really know what he’s looking at but he knows that if he doesn’t occupy himself, he’s going to have to hug and kiss her because that’s all he really wants to do, and that’s not going to happen. Not now. 

“Don’t you,” She starts then stops and Dean looks up, sees the flush in her face and then she starts to speak again, “Don’t you have more important things to do than being here?”

Dean purses his lips, it’s not quite a smile but also not a sulk. “Would I be here if I had anything else to do?”

She stares at him, her forehead creases but then a police officer stands in the door.

He listens as she tells the policeman what happened (she left work at the library — so she works! In a freaking library too! The one place he doesn’t think to look!), a white truck drove right into her at an intersection (Dean’s still fucking angry at that driver — He can still make it look like an accident. But then he thinks, without the reckless driver, he probably would have never seen her again). The policeman took down her data, her address (a fucking two hours drive from his place!) and then he leaves and Dean is pissed. Not at her. Never at her. At his own futile attempt on tracking her down and at the guy who broke her fucking ankle. 

They didn’t have time to talk because her next check up is around the corner. They wheeled her out and he waits until she’s back and then they wait together in silence until she gets the all clear from the doctor.

She’s discharged with a shit ton of painkillers and needs to be back for a check up in six weeks. 

“Shit,” She mumbles.

“What?”

“I don’t have any clothes.”

Dean grins, “I got you.” He takes the bag he had with him which she didn’t even notice. Pulls out a shirt and her pj pants she left behind.

Y/N looks at the shirt. It’s another Led Zeppelin shirt from him, not the one that she used to wear. 

“I couldn’t find the other shirt.” Dean says as he notices her staring a little too long at the shirt he brought.

“Because I took it with me.”

“Ah.” 

Dean lets her change, turns around and looks out of the window. If she wants him out, she doesn’t say, accepts the little privacy he gives her.

“Done.” She says and he turns around, swallows hard because it’s a sight he never thought he’d see again. 

She gets a crutch and it takes them an eternity to reach the car, and in hindsight, he could have let her wait and walk to get the car and pick her up at the entrance but his brain is not really capable of thinking right now.

He pushes a button and the car lights up.

Suddenly, she starts to laugh out loud. 

“What?” Dean asks, trying not to laugh with her at the sound that makes his heart skip a beat.

“A Lamborghini? Seriously?”

“It’s Cas’ car. I was at his place when I got the call and he gave me the car because it’s faster than mine.”

“Oh good, because I was gonna say that your dick’s way too big to drive such a car.” She’s still laughing but then she realizes that she might have crossed the line and then she stops.

Dean didn’t mind, didn’t even think that it was insensitive, given the circumstances of what they aren’t.

“Sorry.” She apologizes.

“It’s okay.” He walks around, helps her get in before he settles in himself.

“So,” He says.

“So,” She repeats.

“Where do you want to go?”

“My apartment.” 

Dean raises an eyebrow and looks at her suspiciously. “Do you have someone who could look after you?”

Y/N lowers her head, looks down at her hands. 

“Good, my place it is then.”

“Bu—”

“—You shush. You can’t even walk or lift things. How should you do it alone?”

She shuts her mouth, knowing full well that Dean’s right.

  The road begins to get familiar and Y/N notices that Dean drives to his apartment building. 

He parks in the garage and she notices that her car’s still there. Dean doesn’t say anything when he notices her seeing the car. 

Dean helps her out but instead of handing her the crutch, he picks her up and scoops her into his arms, carrying her to the elevator. She looks at him perplexed and he only shrugs, “It’s faster like this because you’re an awfully slow crutch walker.”

She doesn’t say anything, clings onto him and it makes her heart race. It’s the first time they’re so close.

He drops her off, to be able to open up the door but then picks her up again and carries her to the couch. Nothing’s changed. Her painting is still on the wall. Everything still looks like the day she left.

Y/N looks at Dean as he unpacks the painkillers and sorts them into piles of morning, lunch and evening. “You didn’t move?”

He turns around and looks pained. “I did.”

“Why did you keep this apartment?” The answer comes out before realization hits. “Oh,”

She still has a key to the apartment, and forgot to leave it behind when she disappeared. And then she has tears in her eyes. He really stayed here in the hopes that she’d come back? 

“Yeah.” Now he’s doing the freaky thing again where he reads her mind. “Never really gave up. Thought it wouldn’t hurt if I kept it and was hoping that you’d come and at least get your car. Guess I was fooled twice.”

“Dean,”

“Don’t,” He says and walks around to sit down, there’s a safe distance between them. “We can either pretend nothing happened between us and I’m just a friend. As soon as you’re better, you can leave, that’s up to you. No hard feelings, okay?” He pauses before he goes on, “Or we could address the big elephant in the room while you’re here, and at least get that out of our way to make it all a little more bearable. It doesn’t have to be now, or today, but we both know that we have to eventually — or at least I know that I want some closure. What do you say?”

“Okay,” She nods and when she wants to look at Dean again, Bubbles jumps on the sofa and nuzzles her face against her hand. “Hey, you,” She says softly before she looks around to see if Cuddles is walking around somewhere.

“He’s gone.” Dean mumbles. 

“Gone where?” She asks and then it hits, “Oh.” Now, she really has tears in her eyes. “Is it because of me?”

“You mean, you’re asking if you broke his heart so that he doesn’t have any will to live anymore and decides that he’s better off dead?” Dean chuckled darkly, “No, that’s probably only me. But seriously, he was an old cat, his liver gave out, couldn’t even eat properly anymore. I had to put him out of his misery.”

“You brought him to the vet?”

Dean frowns, “Of course I brought him to the vet to put him down, I’m not a monster, Y/N for fuck’s sake!”

It’s not that she doubts him, it’s… she doesn’t know what it is. She’s emotionally not stable at all. “I’m sorry,” She can’t help it, she’s full on sobbing. “So sorry.”

“Hey,” Dean moves closer, holds her face in the palm of his hand as he makes her look at him. “Look at me, sweetheart. Look at me. It’s not your fault, okay? Nobody saw it coming.”

She nods, but she can’t stop crying. “I should have been there.”

“Yeah, you should have,” He says drily, but adds in a softer voice, “But we don’t usually get what we want. It’s okay.”

“It’s not.” She whispers, “What are you doing, Dean? You were supposed to move on, get out and live a happy life. You were supposed to forget about me.”

And there it is, the chaste kiss on her forehead, while he still has one hand on the back of her neck. 

She’d missed that. 

She’d missed him. 

“I could never forget about you. Not even if I’d try.” Dean lets go of her, sits back up and clears his throat. She doesn’t look at him, can’t possibly do it. But the way he sniffles, he must have been crying too. 

“How are you feeling? Want anything to eat?” 

She doesn’t know what to answer about how she’s feeling, so she doesn’t and says, “No.”

“Okay, let’s get you to bed. You need to rest.” Dean actually doesn’t wait for her to protest, scoops her up and walks her to his bedroom. It used to be hers too. She wonders what changed. 

He tucks her in, levels her leg and then he leaves, telling her that he’s preparing her pain meds. 

Y/N looks at her bedside table, her heart is doing some weird things when she sees that nothing had been moved. Her hair tie is still there. The book she started to read. His cheesy card that she propped there. But then she notices something. The drawing of them together with the cats is gone. 

Dean comes in and holds out two pills, drops them into her palm. She downs them with the bottled water he gives her. “Do you need anything?” 

You, she wants to say but doesn’t. 

She hates that he does that. By that she means looking at her as if he tries to read her mind. 

“No, thanks. I just feel tired.”

“Yeah, rest. We can talk later.” He walks out of the room but leaves the door open and she knows why. He’s afraid that he won’t hear her if she needs anything. 

 *

 She falls asleep soon after taking the medications and wakes up again to Dean walking into the room with a tray of food. He puts it at the end of the bed to help her sit up before he places the tray in front of her and proceeds to sit next to her on the bed. 

“I don’t have a lot of food at home nowadays. And I didn’t want to leave you and since I don’t have anyone to boss around anymore, you gotta make due with it. So, have a Winchester Delight, which basically consists of all the things I could find that are still edible.”

Y/N drives her fork into the mess. There’s no other word for it. It smells good, though. So it must be good too. She’s not even that hungry but she knows that she needs to get something in her belly if she has to take so many pain meds. 

Dean watches her fork up a little and puts it in her mouth. She chews and she looks over, sees him holding in a laugh.

“It’s awful.” She swallows the one little bite but lets her fork drop into the plate.

“I know.” He’s full on laughing now. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to eat it. I found Ramen, and already made it. Just wanted to see your reaction.” 

She rolls her eyes. He’s a fucking kid. Always have been, always will be.

He takes the plate and disappears, comes back with Ramen and she welcomes the warm soup. 

Afterwards while Dean’s out cleaning the kitchen, she gets up, needs to go pee and brush her teeth. It’s already late and she just took two more painkillers. The crutch is right next to her bed so she takes it, but then she forgot that she’s not supposed to put weight on her ankle and of course she has to fall. 

She’s angry at herself. Angry that she can’t even do a simple task of going to the bathroom on her own. Angry that her ex-boyfriend has to help her do the simplest of things. 

“Jesus, Y/N, you okay?” 

Of course Dean heard it. 

“I’m fine.” She says, attempts to get up but fails. 

“I can see that you’re fine.” He stands a couple of feet away, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he watches her trying to get up. “What did you wanna do?”

Y/N’s grumpy. “I need to fucking pee, I can do it myself, thanks.”

Dean walks to her, scoops her up, carries her to the bathroom and makes her stand right at the toilet. “Go on.”

“I need some privacy.”

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, but go off, I guess.” He turns himself around and plugs his ears up with his fingers. She rolls her eyes but she takes it. It’s still better than if he would watch her pee. Because that would be really creepy.

When she’s done, and Dean hears the flush, he turns around again, lifts her up and puts her in front of the sink. She can see that everything’s still there. Her brush, her toothbrush, her crazy amount of hair ties. She doesn’t say anything, though. Washes her hands and brushes her teeth while Dean waits with his head resting against the door frame. 

He carries her back to the bed after, tucks her in wordlessly before he slips out again. 

She lies awake even though she’s tired. It’s weird. Weird being back. Weird being here and in his bed. Weird having him looking after her when she’s been the one who ran away.

Dean comes in about an hour later, takes a shower and then he walks to the bed, slips in with her. “Is it okay if I sleep here? I just don’t wanna be far away if you need something during the night.”

“Sure, it’s your bed. If anyone shouldn’t be here, it’s me.”

Y/N hears him propping himself up, doesn’t really see it because it’s dark and she welcomes that they’re in the shadows. It makes everything easier.

“Don’t say that.” Dean exhales but doesn’t say anything else and the silence is killing her. It’s about another year (at least it felt like that) until Dean speaks, “Can I ask you something? I mean, can we talk a little? Are you up for it?”

“Okay,” She replies, because she knows that they eventually have to and what’s better than to get it over with. 

He tilts his head to her and she can see him squint, as if he’s trying to make out the shape of her face. “Why did you leave?”

She’s surprised by the question. “You didn’t find out?”

“Of course I did. I’m not a fucking idiot, Y/N,” Dean huffs out, “I… I just can’t wrap my mind around why you thought that running away was the only option you had.”

“Dea—”

“—Don’t Dean me.”

She takes a deep breath before she speaks, “I betrayed you. I know what you do with people who betray you, even if you don’t want to, but you have to keep up the facade. And I was scared shitless. Not because I didn’t deserve what would have been done to me, but more because you didn’t deserve it. I know that you did love me and I wanted to help you. I wanted you to be able to get out, have a life you really want. A life you deserve. So I made a deal.”

“What was the deal?”

“If they would catch you, they would have made a deal with you. One you would take because I know that you would. You’ll be able to walk free, everything against you would have been dropped, but for it to happen, I had to go away. They didn’t want me to interfere with them catching you because I could jeopardize their operation.”

“Nothing happened. They didn’t find out. Because you already made sure of that. You already helped me.”

“I couldn’t take that chance! Even after all the information I gave them, there was still a chance that they would catch you and if they knew that it was me all along, they would not offer you the deal. So I went away before they could even find out.”

“You took the easy way out, Y/N.”

“What did you expect me to do? Sit here and wait until they get you? Watch as they destroy your existence? You were too important to me.”

“You know,” Dean exhales audibly, “I thought that it would take me a long while to put two and two together but no, I got it straight away. I thought back to our conversations, played them over and over in my head. And then I realized that I chose to ignore all the red flags. I realized that I deliberately chose to ignore all the red flags that have been thrown at me because I wanted to hold on to that happiness I felt in my heart. I have never been as happy as when I was with you.”

She’s crying by now and she knows that he is too, from the way his voice gets softer and starts to vibrate.

“I’m sorry.” She says, because it’s the only thing she can say, the only thing she can think of. “Like I wrote in that letter. I hope that one day you will be able to forgive me.”

“Oh, I forgave you a long time ago, Y/N. I forgave you immediately after I read the letter.” He clears his throat, then he goes on, “The question is if you can forgive yourself. And I want you to, I really do. Maybe we can work on that, too while we’re at it. I don’t hold a grudge against you. I was never angry at you. I was angry at myself for not seeing it sooner. But then again I was asking myself what then? What if I saw it sooner? Would I have left you? Would I have locked you out of my life? Or worse, would I have killed you?”

She swallows the lump in her throat that’s building up with every word he says. 

“But the answer’s always no. I could never have done any of that. Not after you’ve helped me. Because after all, you’ve kind of picked me up from a dark place and gave me something to look forward to. It’s not only that, but you also saved my life. Twice. And it was you who suggested the trucks, you always helped me, and sometimes you knew that you were helping me, but most of the time, you didn’t. You made life better, more enjoyable, you cured my nightmares. It’s you. It has always been you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Can you do me a favor?” Dean asks and he lies down, turns to the side to look at her. 

“What?”

“First of all, you’ve got to stop apologizing,” He says and helps her adjust by taking the extra pillow away from her head so now she’s lying comfortably too. 

“Okay.”

He flashes a smile, it’s dark but she can still see the white of his teeth. 

“Let’s sleep, you must be exhausted.” He whispers now, his hand skims along her cheeks, as if he still doesn’t believe that she’s real. 

He didn’t dare to touch more of her than he really has to. And she knows that he’s giving her space. Because after all, she’s the one who left and even though she told him not to, he took her home and pushed himself back into her life. 

CH35

[fantasydaydreamers]

The Real Thing: EXTRA PT.3! "Female Edition"

These specific characters were chosen because a while ago I had asked for people to send me names and the first 5 I would do. I ended up choosing a 6th.

This is loonnggg overdue and I have a few asks in my inbox asking about the female sex toys... I hope this answers y'alls questions~

Warning: Lemon Headcanons

Everything Hero: Creati

What it looks like: It's a deep red fleshlight with black bands wrapped around the handle. The entrance has the same pink and blue sparkle look that Momo has when she creates objects from her skin.

How big: It's about 3 inches wide by 7 inches long.

How it feels: The material inside the toy creates a tingling sensation around your cock, pulling you deeper inside. As you speed up, the tingling increases almost knowing when your sent over the edge, pulsing around your cock realistically.

Advertised as: "She'll create your pleasure into ecstasy!"

What she thinks: Coming from a rich and somewhat conserved household, she's embarrassed. She knew that her hero costume make her stand out some, but this was another level.

→ Momo: *blushing* "Jeez..."

→ Mina: "Ooh~ that's creative."

→ Hagakure: *giggles* "Mina, stop. She's turning red."

→ Mina: *gasps* "Just like her toy!"

→ Momo: "You guys-!"

Miruko

What it looks like: It may not look like much at first, but her fleshlight grips tight. It's a purple and cream swirl with hints of orange. At the very end of the sleeve is a fluffy bunny tail. Like I said, it looks 'cute,' but once you use it, her vice grip will have you panting in no time.

How big: It's about 3.5 inches wide by 8.5 inches long.

How it feels: The inner passage is filled with a criss-cross patterns which only enhances the grip feeling. In fact, it almost gives off the feeling that you're receiving oral. That's how strong the suction.

Advertised as: "You're gonna jackrabbit this toy till you explode!"

What she thinks: She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. Really?

→ Rumi: "Is this what you wanted, pervert?" *stalks toward you*

→ You: *gulps* "I-uh-"

→ Rumi: *grabs you by the front of your shirt* "C'mere then. Let's see what you're capable of..."

Midnight

What it looks like: It's a dark purple, almost black, fleshlight. Some people assumed she would have a whip and BDSM themed toys, however, the manufacturers wanted to capture the magnetic pull she had on people with her quirk. Hence why the toy's inside is soft and smooth making it addicting every time you thrust into it.

How big: It's about 3 inches wide by 7.5 inches long.

How it feels: It has a silky texture making it feel heavenly. It also has an added suction feature that pulls you into her silky walls. There are a few ridges inside, but not enough to make it feel not silky. It encloses around you nicely, securing you tightly within her.

Advertised as: "Her pussy will put you to sleep, you'll be calling her NyQuil!" (Inspired by Nicki Minaj - Anaconda)

What she thinks: As if she couldn't be any more popular, the men charged the store to get their hands on her toy. As flattered as she was, she knows she has sex appeal and wasn't surprised.

→ Nemuri: *swinging her whip around* "Well, well, well. Look at all these men wanting to try it out~ how lewd."

→ Yu: *scoffs and mumbles* "Yeah...look at all of them..."

→ Nemuri: "Hm? What was that?"

→ Yu: *waves her hands in front of her defensively* "Oh ho! Nothing!"

Mt. Lady

What it looks like: She had a cock ring toy. It's definitely a long-lasting one that's durable for more than one use. It's a purple and orange swirled design on the jelly ring. The ring also has a mounted vibrator end that is rechargable to aid in clitoral stimulation.

How big: It's about 4 inches in width but since it's jelly, it's kind of stretchy.

How it feels: I mean, her quirk is the ability to become larger, right? The cock ring edges you so it essentially holds you back, building up your release. It's a snug fitting ring that increases your girth and helps delay ejaculation. So the pleasure that washs over you once you take it off makes it all worth it. Also with the vibrator, it helps give pleasure to your partner and yourself.

Advertised as: "It'll make you grow as large as her!"

What she thinks: She had a one-sided competition with Midnight on whose toy could sell out the fastest. They have different toys but that didn't matter. She loved flirting and the male attention too.

→ Yu: *somewhat copying Midnight* "Look at all these perverts buying my toy~ Hey you!"

→ You: "Uh-oh! M-mt. L-lady..." *hides the toy behind your back*

→ Yu: "Uh uh. I don't think so. Hey...let's go try it out in the back."

→ You: "Eh?!"

→ Yu: *thinking out loud* "Maybe we should take hers too...you can try both and see which one you like better..." *looks at you* "How does that sound?"

Stealth Hero: Invisible Girl

What it looks like: Obviously it's a clear fleshlight. From the inside, you can tell it has detailed ridges for enhanced pleasure.

How big: It has an 8 inch depth and 8.5 width. However, don't worry if you're less than those measurements! It still feels secure around you and the protruding ridges make up for the remaining space.

How it feels: It has ridges inside that rub against your cock nicely, plus since you can basically see through the toy, having the visual may add to the pleasure.

Advertised as: "She'll make your hard-on disappear!"

What she thinks: By her gloves waving in the air, you knew she was flailing around in embarrassment.

→ Hagakure: "Aaah!!! And it's clear!!!"

→ Mina: *snickers* "At least they see it. If it was real, it just disappears, right?"

→ Hagakure: "I-Mina!!! Hush!!!"

Alien Queen

What it looks like: She actually has a lube product. It's an almost clear pink gel lube that comes in a squeeze bottle. It has a light sugary smell of frosted strawberry cupcakes.

How big: The bottle is 3 oz. The size isn't that big, but you don't have to use a lot for it to work. It lasts a while or depending on how often you are active.

How it feels: Yes, her quirk is acid, however, the lube is anything but that. It provides a warming stimulant that enhances your pleasure and it makes you really sensitive. The product is not gender specified and welcomes anyone to try it! Also, you can choose to use it by yourself or with a partner. Either way, you are sure to be satisfied.

Advertised as: "You'll feel out of this world!"

What she thinks: She thinks it cute! Plus it smells like frosted strawberry cupcakes?! Yummy!

→ Mina: "Ooh! Is it edible too?!" *puts some on her finger and licks it*

→ Momo: *grabs the bottle out of concern* "Well, the packaging says so but I wouldn't-"

→ Mina: "YUMMY!"

OTHERS:

Original Pt. 1 (With all the others)

The Villains Pt. 2

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

The Bad Guy (1)

Bucky x fem!Reader

CHAPTER 1: THE FAKEOUT

Series: A Bad Guy ruins Bucky’s day. But turns out it’s the bad guy he needs to seek help from after all. New York may not have changed much for him, but there are certain things he is discovering to be quite new!

Chapter warnings: swearing.

A/N: @writing-prompt-s​ once gave a prompt last year that stuck with me…I don’t remember the exact wordings but it had something to do with the reader/writer being the villain having a crush on the hero, always finding excuses (or crimes) to meet them. One day they are getting their ass beat and you decide to jump in and save the day. This one is same but with a liiiiiiiitle twist

Word Count: There are times I wish I was a llama. or a cat. Now is one of those times.

“You can do it. You. Can. Do. It. You’re the man. You’re the freaking man. Yes. Yes. You got it. You absolutely got it.”

“You okay, man?” Bucky had to ask.

“You absolutely don’t got it. I can’t do it, man. I’m outta here.”

Bucky grabbed Scott’s arm before that guy could rush back to the SUV they had come in. As much as he wanted to kick this sweaty ex-thief out of here, he knew the plan wasn’t going to work in Scott’s absence. He needed a guy to make him seem legit. At least that’s what Natasha had told him.

“Calm down,” Bucky reassured the man who was sweating tennis balls by now, “you just need to show the ID. Natasha has taken care of the rest and I would be doing the talking. Okay?”

Scott was half-listening by the time Bucky had finished. “Huh? Yeah! Yeah! Cool cool cool cool cool cool cool!”

Bucky could empathise on some level with Scott. After all, it was weird for an ex-con to visit a prison as a fake lawyer while trying to get a felon out of there under the noses of the authority. 

The plan was pretty simple. Arrange a meeting with that woman whom Bucky had met earlier, gain her trust, get her out of jail under the pretence of getting her to help with an unsolved case and find out the location and identity of the people behind the theft of Tony’s precious painting.

Simple.

Then why was Bucky’s back feeling so wet whenever a humid wind blew at the opening of every rusty door in the maximum-security prison?

The room was covered in cameras in all corners. To Bucky’s satisfaction, Natasha already told him and Scott they did not record any conversations for lawyer-client confidentiality- so any conversation that was about to happen was going to stay between these three. The musty smell of the room was somehow familiar to both of them, bringing mixed feelings to the surface- to which they barely had time to react when a figure in orange jumpsuit walked in, forcing all their attention on it.

“Hey boys!” You greeted the party, already recognising Bucky from the rendezvous you two had a few days ago. “Ay!! You’re that beat cop no one listened to that day!”

Bucky did not know how to react to that. He was not really expecting their interaction to go this way. Scott, on the other hand, was a little relieved to have your attention glued on anyone but him.

“Oh, right! I told you we’d be having the conversation after I get processed,” you added with a tone of realisation, “Wow, I didn’t know you were so into that robbery!”

You dragged the chair out with your leg and sat on it, legs spread wide- keeping comfort over societal mannerisms. Resting your cuffed hands on the table you gave a knowing smirk to Bucky, who was trying to figure out what exactly was going on behind that viciously delicious smile. “Or is it something else that is intriguing you?” You raised a brow. "Did I use that right? Intriguing you? Something that you're intrigued by?"

"That sounds better," Scott blurted out, regretting it the very second because now your suspicion-filled eyes were all for him.

"You…" you narrowed your eyes at Scott, making the man sit straight in his chair.

"He's my lawyer," Bucky was quick to dive in, "I mean, he's the lawyer we-I... he is interested in represen...He’s a lawyer." For the first time in his life, Bucky was glad Scott and Sam had forced him to watch Law and Order.

“...ok...kay.”

"Scott. Scott Lang," he introduced himself, bringing his hand forward for a shake.

“You have the eyes of a thief,” you stated while Scott’s hand was still in the air, making the poor man slowly take it back while his pale face looked at Bucky with an ‘I told you so’ expression. “No wonder you’re a lawyer.”

Next moment, you slumped into the chair, looking a little offended at something Bucky did. Or so he thought. “Did I hurt you?”

Bucky blinked at you before his brain smacked his accelerating heart to give something instead of just sitting there. “I’m sorry?”

“Did I hurt you the last time we met? I get that I have some kinda...powers but I don’t just throw them around. We could have had a conversation over some prison coffee. You didn’t have to bring your friend here.”

It took three seconds at minimum for Bucky’s brows to shoot up and his lips to crack wide in a smile. “W-what? No! He’s not here for me. He’s here for you. We’re getting you out of here.”

It was hard to put a word into the expression you just gave. Your eyes shifted between the two men while your open lips were shut and your face tilted a little towards the door.

“Uhhhhh-” was the only thing coming out of your mouth till your body got up from the chair and your cuffed hands pressed together towards your company- “listen, cop guy...man. I really meant it in a casual way when I said we’ll ‘talk later’. I don’t really know how much you’ve read into this. I mean, I would say ‘at least buy me dinner first’ but I am kinda scared as to where that might lead us. Good, God! Now I’m wondering what would you have done if I’d said something more like ‘hey, let’s f-”

“NO!” Bucky nearly jumped off his seat, his hands over the table trying to stop your words from coming out from a safe distance. “I’m not getting you out of here because I like you-” he stopped right when he heard himself, watching your curious eyes witness his mouth play him like a ten-cent flute- “no, I mean I like you but not in that kind of...what I mean to say is I know why you tried to steal that painting. I found out from my sources that these paintings are being used by this new mafia around the world supplying narcotics and codes on the trafficked girls and boys to their buyers for bids. And I was hoping you could help us catch the people behind the...painting.”

Bucky was cursing himself right and left, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks at nearly messing it up. Why did she have to be this accurate? His inner voice mocked him before smacking him in the head and calling him a jock.

“I don’t know if you remember but I was caught by you guys while threatening the New Yorkers.”

“While you were trying to help Ste-Rogers. Captain Rogers. And no one caught you. You surrendered yourself.”

“I hate cops. I can’t work with them.”

“You won’t be working with them. You’ll be working with us. Me and a couple of my friends.”

“I don’t work for free. And before you put a price tag on my work, remember that I am inside this prison because I want to stay here. For now.”

“How about a date with Steve Rogers?”

“Dude, you can’t put a price on my-wait what?”

“I’ll ask him to go out with you if you catch those sons of bitches.”

Maybe it was the serenade playing from somewhere inside the prison. Or maybe it was the sun strolling in from the windows. Or maybe it was the mention of his best friend that made your pupils go wider, your fingers work over the skin on your arm, doodling some invisible hearts with a bitchface before you straightened from the table and the sound from your cuffs nearly made Scott fall off his chair.

“I don’t work with supes. They disgust me. Especially Tony Snark and his redhead sister and that C-grade Legolas. I’m out.”

“We won’t be working with them. But I can pull a few strings to get you that date. I promise. And I’m sure Steve...Rogers would be more than willing to go out with you if there is one less bad guy walking out on the streets.”

“...you better not be joking about this-”

“James Barnes.”

“James. Because if you are, I will drive a monster truck into your house, take away your pet and fuck your mother till she forgets her own name.”

“My mother’s dead,” he was quick to add while Scott gasped at the audacity of this bitch- you; you were the bitch.

“Your girlfriend, then,” you simply shrugged. Bucky’s brain straight away flashed to a two-second fantasy of you and Natasha in her room, on her bed.

“Bold of you to assume he has a girlfriend,” Scott chortled till he could see Bucky’s Winter Soldier parts staring at him with all the coldness.

.

It wasn’t in his nature to give a place to bad things inside his Bucky heart. It definitely wasn’t in the now peaceful Winter Soldier’s nature to peek from inside Bucky and stare with stars in his eyes at the woman coming out in her shirt and jeans topped by a leather jacket. She’s bad, his mind kept ringing the gong, real bad. And when that wasn’t enough, she put on those aviators to shield her eyes from the harsh noon sun, walking towards him with the strut that said she was woman enough to grab someone by the balls if need be. You’ll get yourself killed by a woman, Barnes, his mind went off again.

“No, I won't,” he muttered out loud.

“What?” Scott asked.

“What?”

Bucky tried to ignore him, his eyes stuck on you as you came and stood by them.

“Keys,” you ordered, watching Bucky fish his pockets without breaking eye contact and handing the keys of the Land Rover to you. “Let’s go.”

Scott grabbed Bucky by the arm to pull him closer. “Dude! She has the keys!”

“...okay? Why are we whispering?”

“Wh-What are we gonna do if she tries to do something...evil!”

“Like what?”

“Like I don’t know, throw us off a cliff! Or drive us into a wall. Or worse, go over the speed limit in the city!!”

“Relax! I’m here,” Bucky reassured before opening the door to the back seat of the car for him. “I got you.”

Hopping in and sitting next to you, he noticed for the first time how you smelled like a pleasant mixture of spring and citrus.

“What cologne is that?” you called out from nowhere while turning on the engine, turning to look at Bucky.

“Uhhh….it’s an aftershave. For men.” He nodded, cursing himself instantly for adding that last bit. Of course, it’s for men, you twat!

“Smells nice,” you complimented before turning out of the parking spot.

“I’m glad you’re on board with this,” Bucky stated, trying to undo the mess he made a few seconds ago, “I wasn’t trying to overstep when I-we decided to get you to help us out.”

You chuckled, shifting gear.

“Oh, sweetheart! One, I loved this isn’t an automatic. Those are for weak testicled-babies. And two, you clearly misinterpreted me in there. When I said I was not expecting you to bail me outta jail for a date, I wasn’t grossed out by it, darling. I liked it.” You leaned a little closer to Bucky- having a glorious view of his pupils go wide like oceans with endless pits- to end him with one last whisper and wink. “In a very kinky way.”

And just as the car swerved out to the wide road, Scott could feel the air leave his lungs. “What have we done,” he whispered to himself, questioning all that was about to come.

[sunflowerspectre]

The Backwaters | Commission Piece

This is a commission piece for an anon. Also available on A03 Title: The Backwaters Summary: As an agent of SHIELD, Shuri’s assignment is to find and rescue Wanda Maximoff who disappeared in the backwaters of West Virginia. But her training is put to the test when the town’s mechanic Bucky takes a liking to her. Aged up! Shuri Warnings: Omega!Verse, Beta/Omega/Alpha Dynamics, OOC

< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >

The Backwaters | Chapter Two | Word Count: 2797

Apparently, staged car breakdowns isn't something new to SHIELD; she supposes it makes sense given their career, but it’s not something she particularly thought about until Fury gave her a specialized car. One press of a button and it kills the engine  give it a good second press, it’s back up and running.  Or something along those lines,  she just knew what button to press and when. He refused to just send her out there with a real broken down car with no emergency back-up plan to high tail the fuck out of there should it get ugly. 

Coulson is already stationed just outside of town, he gave her a somber good luck before they parted ways and she had told him the same, along with a side note to not get eaten by bears. The face he made told her that he didn’t quite think the idea of camping all the way through. She didn’t even bother to give him a little bit of comfort, just laughed before she hopped in the car.

Making her way through town, she wonders if they’re in the right spot. Hardly a soul in sight, it seems more like a ghost town than an active community. She spots a few cars, parked in otherwise empty lots and missing their drivers. It has the makings of a town, she supposes, small shops and all, but the closed doors and signs aren’t particularly welcoming. If there are people here, they’re definitely doing a great job of discouraging tourists.

There are only two places that have any sort of activity. She spots some movement in what seems to be an unmarked police department; she remembers that the town is unofficial, likely unlicensed, and unmarked on maps. She wonders if anyone in the department is the notorious sheriff from the next town over that was mentioned in the files, the famous Rodgers. It would make sense, becoming a sheriff in the place with the resources for the training before bringing it home. Especially if he’s stolen all the omegas he needs and doesn’t have room for any more.  Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Shuri.

The other activity, to her good fortune, is the small gas station that has an auto shop attached it and a bright, lit up open sign. 

Bingo. With a tight lipped grin, Shuri reaches into her pocket and feels the small discrete device that she needs. A press of a button later, the car sputters and begins to die off just as she pulls up to the service shop.  She’s not oblivious to the fact that she's the only car in the lot and despite the lit up open sign, she doesn’t immediately spot anyone inside the storefront. She can, however, hear the buzz and hammer of working tools which means she’s not completely alone.

She presses the pearls on her bracelet together and raises her hands into her hair, as if she’s just fixing her appearance in the rear view mirror. 

“I’m heading in Coulson. Sounds like there’s at least one person here in this ghost town working in the auto shop, but I’m not for certain. Could be a gang of them.”

There’s a brief moment of silence before a faint voice whispers from the bracelet, she raises it closer to her ear to hear Coulson’s voice more clearly.

“Just take it slow and easy, they have a lot of weapons close at hand in a shop.”

Shuri laughs, “Have some faith in me, Coulson. Update you when I can.”

Long legs swing out of the car as she walks into the open garage of the auto shop. She doesn’t spot anyone immediately and watches where she steps, the residue of who knows what splattered particularly everywhere. She peeks around the corner to see a man’s legs sticking out from under a raised car.

“Hello,” Shuri’s smile is bright and friendly, “Sorry to bother you, but do you think you can give me a hand? My car’s just outside in the lot, it’s completely useless, but at least it lasted long enough for me to find some help.” 

She gives a joyful laugh, eyes twinkling as the tools suddenly stop. The man drags himself out from the car in battered jeans and covered in so much grime that he’s just shy of looking like a bad fake tan. Long dark hair is pushed behind both ears, a bit greasy, but full and curling ends brush against his shoulders. The stubble on his face says he hasn’t shaved in a few days. He’s kind enough to grab a rag and wipe down his hands and his thick muscled arms that flex with each movement. 

His eyes are full of curiosity, looking her up and down as if he hasn’t heard a word she said and is instead only focused on the way her jean shorts hug her hips. Tense, she holds her head high and presses a firm hand against a swung out hip as she jabs a thumb to point outside.

“My car. Think you can fit it in anytime soon?”

His eyes snap to hers and it takes a moment before he speaks, matching her smile.

“Sorry, your accent is very… different.” His voice comes out in a unique smooth drawl, country, but not hick. “We don’t get a lot of Brits this way.” 

Shuri has been used to that reaction since she’s joined SHIELD; never from the agents, who come from everywhere and all walks of life, but always at least once on a mission from a passerby. 

“It’s nice,” he continues, “I like it.”

The statement, while not anything negative, gives her an unsettling crawl on her skin. He keeps smiling and staring just a bit too long for comfort. He doesn’t make any other movements or comments, an unnerving silence fell between them. Shuri’s smile doesn’t quite meet her eyes as she nods toward the lot.

“My car.” 

Her voice is a gentle reminder, causing his eyes to snap away from her, looking past her and into the lot.

“Right, right. Let’s take a look.”

He doesn’t bother asking which car in the lot is hers, she supposes he doesn’t really have to, but it still would’ve been nice customer service. She shouldn’t expect even that much in this town. At least the car is unlocked as he climbs into the driver’s seat to pop the hood, eyes darting all over the car, as if he’s trying to take in as much as he can. Aside from some luggage that doesn’t contain anything but casual clothes and a purse with a false ID, the car sits rather empty. He seems to pay a bit too much attention to the clean leather and dustless dash. She watches him carefully when he takes a few minutes too long to get out of the car and into the hood.  He doesn’t spend long digging into the hood before he pulls back, wiping his hands on the rag that’s now shoved into the pocket of his jeans.

“Your oil is pretty empty and the alternator’s shot. Engine looks like it needs a new battery.”

The battery part sounds more honest, she imagines it must look like something like that with the sudden stop of the engine. But the oil and alternator, she’s not sure just how much he’s bullshitting her and why. She could maybe believe the alternator, unsure with exactly how the car works to stop so suddenly, but if SHIELD really doesn’t have any oil in their car, she would personally pay for Fury’s next vacation.

But if this is what he’s giving her, it’s what she will work with. She knows how to play her part. She bats her eyes at him, akin to a damsel seeking a hero, and sits on the now closed hood, crossing her long bare legs over each other. She playfully swings a foot in the air, almost impatiently as if she’s unsure of what to do.

“I just bought the car, I didn’t know I needed to change the oil.” She pouts for good measure, hoping that it would take his mind off the rather empty and clean car.

It works like a charm, with him chuckling before speaking in a well honey tone as if he knows more than she does and is taking pity on her by explaining every detail. 

“Anytime you buy a car, new or not, you’re gonna want to change the oil, sweetheart. The engine may be out, considering the whole thing seems pretty dead. You’re lucky it didn’t go out on you before you got to town.”

A finger brushes against the device in her pocket, her tongue darting out to lick her bottom lip. Luck of course. She supposes she looks rather lost, with him looking at her with that intense glare, briefly looking over her clean shaven, long bare legs. She hoped that the tiny shorts would help pass her off as a younger girl who doesn’t know much about the world, keep suspicion off, but she uncrosses her legs and stands up, almost feeling protective against his gaze. 

“I suppose it’s going to take you awhile to get it running again,” Shuri muses, “Is there any motel nearby?”

She didn’t see any motel when she was driving through town, which hurts her idea of staying in town as much as she can while the car is getting fixed and the idea of staying a few towns over doesn’t settle well with her. She wants to stay as close and personal to the town as she can.

He shakes his head. “The next motel is over fifty miles out and too long of a drive for someone without a car. You got someone you can call to get you?”

Yes. She thinks of Coulson, worst case scenario, she will have to either sleep in the car or stay out in the tent with him. But staying with him could cause future problems if someone spotted them out there together. Staying in the car wouldn’t be awful. She has yet to see a single security camera, she could always turn the engine back on at night while she’s sleeping; but that would have a higher risk of someone seeing her supposedly dead car running. 

“No,” Shuri speaks evenly, “I don’t have a phone to call even if I had anyone. I suppose I can crash in my car on your lot until morning, if it’s not too much trouble.” 

“Can’t let you do that, sweetheart. Most folks around here are friendly enough, but it still isn’t safe for a young thing like yourself to be sleeping out here at night alone.” 

He looks her over, as if he’s weighing some other option that he hasn’t voiced yet, his brows drawn. She doesn’t trust that look, but is interested to see where it’s going to lead.

“My folks have a spare room, I’m sure they’d be happy to set you up for a night or two.”

Ah yes, that wouldn’t be compromising at all, Shuri debates for a moment, but the idea of at the very least meeting other people in this town sounds inviting, “I wouldn’t want to impose….”

He whispers her words over, as if he’s memorized by them, with a twisted grin and a sparkle in his eyes. 

“I like the way you think, doll, but my folks would love to have you. They don’t get a lot of visitors anymore, especially now that I’ve moved out. My cousin stayed with them for a while until he became sheriff in the next town over. He’s back home now, decided being a sheriff here where he’s needed is better. Newly wed too, so I’m not sure if he’s been up to visit the folks too much.”

Everything about what he seems turns her stomach sideways as she realizes that the Rodgers family is definitely bigger than they thought it was, making him one of the top contenders for being a kidnapper, or worse. If there was any doubt that this Steve Rodgers hadn’t been the reason for that disappearance in the same town he happened to be sheriff in, it’s definitely gone now. It’s too suspicious that he would return home so soon after becoming a sheriff, with a wife to boot. 

She’s not sure just how ‘friendly’ his folks really are either, but if it’s the same Rodgers family, then she can’t be for certain that his mom is actually here of her own will. 

It’s risky - very risky - and she’s not sure where this man, who has yet to even tell her his name, is going with all of this or what he’s planning. She has some ideas, though, which means she’s going to have to tread carefully. But the chance to meet other people in the town, see the Rodgers family herself, and have the admittedly small chance of even catching Steve Rodgers himself, it’s too good to pass up.

“Well if you’re certain,” Shuri’s smile has a dangerous edge to it that he doesn’t catch, “I would love to.”

_________________________________

He doesn’t drive her through the town, making her tense as she watches each tree pass by them the further they go into the mountains. He doesn’t even drive her off to a farm, just a dirt road that turns more into a beaten path as they dodge the overgrowth.

He tells her his name is James on their drive, but he insists on her calling him Bucky. Apparently nicknames are the norm in the area, with everyone treating each other like family. Bucky talks as if there’s a lot of people around, and she wonders just how many. But as long as Bucky is willing to talk, she’ll milk it for all its worth. The more information she can get, the better.

“Your parents live this far from town,” she asks tentatively and curiously, not quite glancing at him as she watches out the window. 

“My entire family has lived on the mountain for two hundred years, give or take. Houses are scattered about all over the mountain, we’ve always liked our privacy. My folks don’t really leave the mountain anymore, but a lot of the family still ventures to town when needed and for special occasions. Every so often, people like my cousin may venture out of town to find themselves a good wife to bring back home.”

“Sounds a bit claustrophobic,” Shuri ventures, testing the waters of the conversation, “You make it seem like no one’s allowed to leave.”

His knuckles are tight on the steering wheel and he glances at her through the corners of his eyes, his friendly demeanor is darkening rapidly and she sees it - that look in his eyes that tell her she’s walking on thin ice. Good. 

“Nonsense, living on the mountain is about as free as you can get.” 

The rest of the drive is silent and Shuri isn’t about to risk setting him off, not when she can be so close. Besides, he’s already told her quite a bit, enough for her to start to get a good idea of what’s really going on here. It does, however, make her skin crawl as she focuses more on what his motives could be for bringing her here.

His parents, thankfully, don’t live in some backward rut like she almost expected. The house is modern, larger than she thought would be needed, with big windows. Meeting his father, she can tell where Bucky got his structure from, but he definitely has his mother’s eyes.

The night goes better than she thought it would, with it being filled with friendly smiles and polite conversations. His mother was tickled when she offered to help cook, but it was more for Shuri to at least know what she was eating and to avoid any possible chance of getting poisoned. When they sit to eat, she watches every drink poured from a fresh spout closely and is tight lipped and vague about the way they fawn over her pearl bracelet, with his father saying that ‘it’s a beautiful piece of jewelry for a good southern woman.’ 

They fuss over her all night, careful to let her win any of their card games, and complement her often. She accepts every complement with a shy smile and a carefully worded compliment in return. 

But when the night comes, after she’s lead to a spare bedroom, Shuri waits until she is sure that every living being in the house is asleep and every light is off before she looks out the window and presses the pearls of her bracelet together.

“Coulson,” her voice is soft and tense, “There’s been a little bit of an unexpected development.”

Commission Information | A03

[inyournightmares97]

My Youth (Chapter 2)

Broken and miserable, Park Jinyoung returns to his hometown to learn that no matter how hard he falls, there are still people who think he’s a hero.

Warnings: Angst, slow build, maybe some language. (Please don’t ask when I’ll update. Wait until the series is finished to read if you’re impatient.)

Word Count: 2.8k

(Check my Masterlist for the Prologue and Chapter 1, I can’t put links here!)

For a celebrity, Park Jinyoung did an excellent job of keeping a low profile.

Not a single soul had  figured out that he was back in town. You had expected that people would find out at some point. After all, Jinyoung had other friends in town that he might want to get in touch with. Jackson Wang, for example. Or at least the convenience story lady would have seen him, wouldn’t she? When he went in to buy a toothbrush or something? This town was full of people who knew who Park Jinyoung was but you heard no murmur about his return. Surely he hadn’t spent the last three days locked up inside his house?

Apparently, that was exactly what he had been doing.

“He sleeps all day,” Mrs. Park whispered, upset. She had called you up during your lunch break and she sounded miserable. “He barely gets out of bed, and he eats whatever I cook for him but he goes straight back to sleep. I thought he was just tired so I let him be, but… three days? Whenever I try to ask him what’s wrong, he goes quiet and stops answering me.”

You bit your lip and took a deep breath. You didn't want to hear about Park Jinyoung. In fact, you wanted nothing more than to never hear his name spoken again. His sleeping habits were the last thing you wanted to care about. But Mrs. Park sounded heartbroken and you couldn’t hang up on the worried mother.

“Hasn’t he left the house at all?” you asked reluctantly.

“He hasn’t. He just sits in his room,” she muttered. She suddenly lowered her voice. “And… his phone keeps ringing, almost constantly. But he never answers it. He just sits and stares at it.”

You blinked. “And he doesn’t even want to take a walk or something?”

“No. I tried to get him to go out, but he says that he’s worried people will recognize him. You know we gave away the car after Mr. Park’s health left him unable to drive…”

You sighed and nodded. The older man’s eyesight had gotten so bad that he wasn’t even allowed to drive any longer. Despite their son being one of the richest young entrepreneurs in the country, the Parks took the bus everywhere. “You should try to get Jinyoung to leave the house and get some fresh air,” you suggested vaguely. “It seems to me like he doesn’t want to interact with the townsfolk but he can’t keep up that childish behaviour if he wants to stay here for any amount of time.”

Mrs. Park sighed. “I know, I just don’t know how to convince him… Would you be willing to lend him your bike, dear?”

You paused. “My bike?”

“Yes, maybe he would feel more comfortable riding around on a bike rather than walking, so that he wouldn’t have to stop and talk to people who recognized him,” she admitted reluctantly. “But if it’s a bother, dear, never mind it-”

“No, it’s fine,” you admitted to the older woman with a sigh. Mrs. Park had done so much for you. The least you could do was lend her son your bike. “I barely use it anyway. You can tell him to come by the school around 3 o’clock and take it from me.”

“Really? Dear, that would be so lovely!”  

Yes, absolutely lovely.

---

“Hey! Miss First Grade!”

You smiled and waved as you watched Jackson Wang jog over to you with a smile. He was wearing his usual gym teacher’s outfit; comfortable grey track-pants and a t-shirt with a whistle on a string around his neck. More consistent than his outfits, though, was his smile. Jackson always had a bright smile on his face.

“Hey, Mr. Gym Teacher,” you teased him in return. There was a sheen of sweat on Jackson’s brow and you couldn’t help but chuckle. Your class had Gym last period and nothing delighted you more than sitting in an empty classroom and looking down on the school-yard as Jackson miserably tried to keep your students in check. “You look tired today. Did the kids wear you out?”

Jackson looked offended. “Of course not. They’re a delight!”

“Are you sure?”

“Okay. So Jangmi had a little temper tantrum when I told her to play by the rules and she might have tried to bite me in the arm, but I had everything under control! Nobody even went to the nurse’s office today! Not even Ki-woo, and he always gets hurt,” Jackson stated proudly, folding his buff arms across his chest.  

You frowned and sighed. Ki-woo was intelligent but you worried that he could somehow never gain the respect of his classmates. “You mean he always gets targeted by the other children. How do I stop him from getting bullied?”

Jackson bit his lip. “Come on. It’s not bullying.”

“He barely has any friends.”

“Some kids are just quieter and less social than others. They need a little more time to get noticed and shine, that’s all. Trust me. I have an eye for these things and Ki-woo is fine. You’re just worried because you have a soft spot for him, that’s all,” Jackson told you with a playful grin. He nudged your shoulder and you blinked, confused.

“Hey. I do not have a soft spot for Ki-woo. All my students are equal to me!” you protested.

Jackson beamed and then winked. “Okay, but we all know he reminds you of someone, right?”

“What?”

“You know!”

“I have no idea, Jackson.”

Jackson looked exasperated, as though he couldn’t believe that you were being this dense. “Park Jinyoung! He’s just like Park Jinyoung was at that age! Extremely bright with enormous potential. Soft-spoken, yet just really waiting to be noticed. Granted, Jinyoung got a lot more confident towards the later part of elementary school but… there was a time when he was exactly like Ki-woo. You don’t agree?”

You stared at Jackson, your heartbeat thudding. Was that true? Did Ki-woo resemble a young Jinyoung? Something inside of your stomach twisted. “I don’t really see it. Ki-woo is much sweeter than Jinyoung ever was.”

Jackson rolled his eyes. “Jinyoung knew how to be sweet to the teachers just like how Ki-woo knows how to capture your heart. Don’t underestimate six years old kids, Miss First Grade.”

You frowned at him. “Don’t you need to go collect the stray balls lying on the field before one of the kids injures themselves?”

Jackson gasped and nodded. “Damn it, you’re right! I’ll see you tomorrow, then!”

You waved goodbye to Jackson and then hurried past him, your heartbeat thudding. Why did he have to bring up Jinyoung today of all days? It was bad enough that thoughts of Park Jinyoung had been polluting your mind ever since you saw him. Now you were going to see Jinyoung every time you looked at Ki-woo as well.

Damn Jackson Wang and his big mouth.

You walked out of the school yard and glanced around. There was a small bench by the side of the road and a lone figure sat on it. So he’s here on time.  Jinyoung was wearing a thick black hoodie that covered his head and his face was covered with a black mask; the kind celebrities usually wore to avoid being recognized. You stifled a laugh. Was this his attempt at appearing inconspicuous? He stuck out like a sore thumb.

“Jinyoung!” you called out to him.

Jinyoung’s eyes widened in panic and he whirled around to face you, placing a finger over the mouth part of his mask and signalling you to shut up. Almost nothing of his skin was visible. As you approached his bench you couldn’t help but make a biting remark.

“Why are you dressed like you’re about to rob a bank?” you asked him. Jinyoung glanced around and made sure the street was empty before reluctantly lowering his mask. His plush lips were pressed together and his stubble had grown in the last three days. You gasped. “My god, you look awful.”

Jinyoung flinched. “Excuse me?”

He did. His skin was pale and there were dark circles around his eyes. Along with his unshaven face, Park Jinyoung looked unkempt and messy. No wonder his mother was worried about him. This was a man who was not in a healthy frame of mind. Something in his dark eyes looked almost dead and for a brief moment, you felt scared. What was wrong with him?

“Jinyoung…” you began slowly. You were cut off by the sound of his phone ringing. Jinyoung fished it out of his pocket. A dark look crossed his face when he saw the caller ID and he instantly silenced it, shoving it back in his pocket firmly. You blinked. It was still vibrating in his pocket. You could hear the faint buzzing. “Don’t you need to take that?”

No. I’m on break,” he replied firmly and folded his arms across his chest. “Look, I don’t really want to be here. I’m only here because my mother kicked me out of the house.”

You blinked. “No wonder. Have you even seen sunlight in the last three days?”

“Why do you care?”

You felt a burst of irritation. Even if Jinyoung didn’t particularly want to embrace you as his old friend, did he need to be so rude all the time? You glared at him. “I don’t. Do whatever you want. Your mother asked me to lend you my bike, that’s the only reason I’m here. Come on. It’s locked up around the back of the school in the parking lot.”

Jinyoung followed you silently as you led the way. He left the mask pulled down under his chin, but pulled his hood up over his head carefully. After a brief silence of nothing but his phone buzzing, he cleared his throat.

“Uh, do you… do you work here or something?”

You glanced at him. “Huh?”

“Do you work at the school? Is that why you’re here at this time of day?” Jinyoung questioned you slowly. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment.

Of course. Jinyoung didn’t know anything about you. You hadn’t spoken to him in years, he probably never even heard about what you did in college or how you were living now. You, on the other hand, could read about his life in magazines. Jinyoung was famous and you were a nobody. You suddenly felt extremely small.

“I’m a teacher,” you told him quietly. You could feel his eyes staring at you. “First grade.”

There was a small pause and then Jinyoung chuckled.

“Figures,” he muttered.

Your stomach twisted and you stopped in your tracks, turning to face him. Jinyoung seemed startled by the sudden fire in your eyes as you pointed at him furiously.

“Why? Because I was never as smart as you are? Because you’re some fancy big-shot while I’m just an elementary school teacher in the countryside? Does it amuse you to look down on the people that you left behind, Park Jinyoung?” you snapped. You weren’t sure what had suddenly ignited this flame inside of you, but your mouth wouldn’t stop running. “Do you think that nobody except you had the potential to make it from this small town?”

Jinyoung stared at you, wide-eyed and startled. “What…? No.”

Your chest was heaving and your tone became more acidic. “Of course. Figures that I’m not smart enough to do anything except teach the first grade, right? After all, how could anyone compare to your level of genius and skill?”

“Will you stop it?” Jinyoung snapped. His eyebrows were furrowed together and he sounded annoyed. “That’s not what I meant. I wasn’t looking down on your intelligence. I only meant that it figures you would be a school-teacher because you always liked cute things, like little animals and kids. The job suits your personality, that’s all I meant.”

You felt a rush of shame and your cheeks flushed pink. “O-oh.”

Jinyoung frowned and tsked. “God, you’re worse than those journalists who try to twist my words. Where is this stupid bicycle of yours parked, anyway? We’ve pretty much walked past the entire school.”

You cleared your throat, taking a deep breath and trying to calm yourself. You idiot. Why did you have to explode and make yourself look stupid? Stay calm. Don’t let him rile you up.  You bit your lip and led Jinyoung over to the bicycle stand where your black bicycle was chained up.

“It’s over here,” you muttered, fishing in your pocket for the keys. Jinyoung’s sharp eyes were following your every movement and you felt flustered under his scrutiny. His phone was still buzzing in his pocket as you fumbled with the lock distractedly. It was a full minute before you could unlock it and the little chain came off in your hand. “It’s not in great condition, to be honest, I don’t use it very often so it might need some oiling or something if you want it to not make creaky noises…”

Jinyoung raised an eyebrow. “You don’t use it? Why do you keep it at school then?”

“I only ride the bicycle when I have to. I normally take the bus to and from school, it’s much more convenient. There aren’t any proper bicycle lanes in our little town” you explained.

Jinyoung nodded.  “Right. You don’t like navigating traffic.”

You shrugged. “Well, yeah. But sometimes I have to stay late and the buses stop running at nine pm. So I keep the bicycle here so I’m not stranded at night. My apartment is a few miles away.”

“You’re sure you won’t need it for a while?”

“I can take the bus like I always do,” you replied. You raised an eyebrow at him. “Can you?”

JInyoung bit his lip and reached out for the handlebars of the bicycle. “I can, but I don’t want random people recognizing me and finding out I’m here. I know how fast word spreads in this town. Before long, they’ll be putting my face in the local paper again. I want to avoid that.”

You stared at him. “Why? Why are you so worried that people will find you?”

“It’s none of your business-”

“You’re not… running from something, are you? Or someone?” you asked nervously. It struck you that Jinyoung’s behaviour was increasingly suspicious. His phone was still buzzing from inside of his hoodie pocket. “Are you in some kind of danger? Is someone trying to track you down?”   

Jinyoung raised an eyebrow. “What kind of danger could I possibly be in?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never been to Seoul. The mafia…?” you trailed off doubtfully.

Jinyoung’s mouth fell open a little bit in disbelief and he sighed. “Wow. You really need to stop spending time with my mother. She asked me the exact same thing this morning. There’s no fucking mafia, okay? I’m just taking a break from work and I came home to rest. I don’t want any bloody journalists or curious people snooping around so for heaven’s sake, if anyone weird comes asking about me then tell them you don’t know me.”

You frowned. “Fine.”

“Thanks for the bicycle. I’m leaving now,” Jinyoung told you shortly. You watched as he carefully mounted the bike and began to ride it. He wobbled a little bit for a few seconds and you giggled, but he soon regained his balance and cycled smoothly out of the parking lot.

You watched Jinyoung leave silently. It wasn’t until you turned to go back into the school that you remembered the bicycle lock and chain were still in your hands.

“Jinyoung! Wait, Jinyoung!” you called out, but he didn’t hear you. Idiot. How could he leave without taking the lock and chain? What if he leaves the bike somewhere without locking it up and it gets stolen? You hurried after him and ran onto the road, calling out. “Hey! You forgot the bicycle lock!”

Jinyoung didn’t hear you. He had already cycled halfway down the road and began crossing the bridge that went over the river. His figure became smaller in the distance but he suddenly slowed down and dismounted halfway across the bridge. Had he stopped because he heard you? You waved a hand in the air hopefully but Jinyoung wasn’t looking at you.

He was staring out at the water.

Your stomach twisted. Even from this distance, you could tell that something was wrong. Jinyoung gripped the railing of the bridge tightly and swung back and forth on the balls of his feet for a good minute, as though he were contemplating something. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out the cellphone that had been constantly buzzing during your conversation with him.

With one strong, firm thrust, Jinyoung flung the cellphone into the water. It fell into the rapidly flowing river and then disappeared in seconds.

Then he got back onto the bicycle and rode away.

--

[warp-space-archive]

The Space Between Us All

MightSpace pairing fic.

Rian Shepard, a young man fresh out of college with a unique quirk, has just moved to Japan seeking a job as a teaching assistant at U.A.

Shenanigans ensue.

CHAPTER ONE: THE DAY HAS COME!

He was new to this city. In fact, he was new to the entire country. The young hero, Rian Shepard, map in hand and messenger bag over one shoulder, climbed the stairs to his new apartment.

“Third floor… Third floor…” he mumbled under his breath, “North side…”

He’d just moved to Japan from America, chasing some job opportunities at U.A., one of the most prestigious Hero schools in the world. Rian’s quirk was uniquely powerful, and Principal Nezu had chosen him knowing he’d be an asset both in and out of the school grounds. His first meeting with his fellow faculty members would be tomorrow. Earlier in the day, after arriving at the airport, he had spent his time wandering around and giving his new world more detail than he would have gotten just from sitting down with the map. He’d visited the front gates of the school, some local shops, and other areas of interest. Tonight, he planned to do some semblance of unpacking, as well as maybe learning more about the area… and maybe brush up on Japanese written characters, since he could speak the language quite well, but had a bit more trouble when it came to reading and writing.

The young man grinned as he rounded a corner and spotted his new front door. In the future, he’d be able to get here without taking the stairs, thanks to his quirk; he could use Spatial Manipulation to create doorways and ‘rooms’, or pocket dimensions, but in order to move through these doorways, he needed to know where he was going. He also had a hard time holding more than 5 ‘pockets’ in reality or keeping more than 2 pairs of his doors open at once. He’d had a lot of blackouts and migraines growing up, and had to work hard to be able to maintain the control he’d managed to achieve. As it was, he required special sleeping medication that kept his quirk in check as he dreamed; several times he’d woken up far away from his room, once he’d actually found himself underwater.

Shivering at the memory, he unlocked the door and stepped into his new home.

It was partially furnished, as advertised, and fairly nice for a 2LDK (a Living/Dining/Kitchen area, plus 2 other versatile rooms) apartment. It came with kitchen appliances and a washing machine, and a balcony that attached to both the living/dining room and the Japanese style room. It was slightly pricey, given the location, but he’d already given the landlord modest Reikin payment (something that was similar to a normal down payment in America) and had savings set up. Between the school job and whatever hero work he’d be doing, he figured he’d be fine. It was worth it to have a park and a pool so nearby, in his opinion. His quirk meant he could just go to any park he wanted in the area without traveling on foot, but in all honesty, Rian enjoyed walking… Especially since he had the Pokémon Go app on his new phone.

Not to mention the fairly close proximity to the school, and that he knew at least two other teachers also lived in this area, from what Nezu had implied during email conversations. It might be nice to have options for people he could talk to after work, besides his kid sister, who would be flying in next week. She wanted to finish her school year in America before transferring in, which he couldn't really blame her for, and he'd let her live with a friend's family during her last week. He and Nezu still had to discuss her conditions for joining the school (technically she was a full year younger than the first year UA students, due to education structure differences) but he was confident that she'd be allowed to move forward.

First things first, he put his map and bag on the modest kitchen counter and went around the apartment, opening windows and making sure everything was in order. The warm summer day was turning into a mild and breezy summer night. Next, he moved to the kitchen and opened one of his ‘pocket rooms’, dragging out boxes and furniture, turning an old Youtube playlist of podcasts on as background noise. He went from room to room, putting all the boxes in their designated areas. He’d already decided which room would be used for what, having planned this move months beforehand.

Still on his American schedule, it was nearing 11pm before he’d even thought to have a meal. Feeling sheepish, even alone in his apartment, he grabbed a cup of ramen from one of the boxes in the kitchen.

“Like college all over again…”

He ended up eating as he showered- something he didn’t realize he’d have to learn how to do, since he’d forgotten showers and baths worked differently here. As an after-thought, he wondered if the layout of his new home had an effect on the price, since it also occurred to him that there was indeed a separate room for the toilet and the bath and shower.

Having quickly gotten that over with and taking his medicine, he grabbed his pillows and blankets, set an alarm for 6:30, and unceremoniously went to sleep on his mattress on the floor.

~)O(~

Rian woke up gently, somehow, a few minutes before his alarm was due to go off. He turned the alarm off, and then rolled from his mattress to the springy tatami mat floor. He’d left the windows open, so it was blessedly cool. Giving himself a few more minutes to wake up, he stared at the ceiling.

“What should… I wear?”

He knew most of the teachers wore their hero costumes. Some even worked under their hero monikers, rather than their real names.

“Well… I meet with the other teachers beforehand. I’ll just pack it all in my bag and think about it on the way. Now… what about breakfast… I think that 24 hour store had parfaits…”

Planning as he went, he quickly got dressed in a nice, dark blue button-up shirt and some khakis, also opting to wear the black boots from his hero uniform and stuffing the rest of his gear in his messenger bag. Next, he checked his reflection in the mirror with a bit of a wince. He’d forgotten to comb his hair before going to sleep, and now his head was a mess of auburn and brown spikes. He quickly got it under control and sighed. The hazel eyes staring back at him looked way too young, even if the rest did manage to resemble a teacher in some capacity.

At the ripe old age of 24, he knew he was probably way too young to be working at U.A., even only as an assistant…

An assistant to Class 1A. Assistant to heroes like Eraser Head and All Might, who he was suddenly dreading to meet. He’d been fluctuating between excitement and mortification since Nezu had told him who he’d be working with. All Might was almost as famous in the states as he was in Japan, and the thought that he’d be working with someone so… dorkily cool unnerved him. Eraser head was nerve wracking in his own way, but from what Rian had seen, he wouldn’t be nearly as intimidating as ‘The Number One Hero’.

Sighing, he grabbed his stuff, made sure the windows were shut and his door locked, and opened a ‘door’ to the alleyway by the convenience store.

“I hope they have parfaits…”

~)O(~

Rian had plenty of time, even after buying 2 cake parfaits, so he went ahead and walked the rest of the way to the campus. 5 minutes later, he was at the gate and fumbling around in his bag for his ID.

“Come on, I really don’t wanna set off the alarm…”

“Need help?”

Rian nearly jumped out of his skin, side-stepping away from the deep voice. Turning to look, he saw something he… hadn’t expected. An incredibly tall, almost skeletal man with wild blonde hair and striking blue eyes. He had a gentle look on his face, and spoke in accented but understandable English.

“Ah, sorry sorry! I overheard. You must be the new teacher assistant? I heard you were, ah, gaikokujin. You have a key card?”

Rian blushed, nodding. “O-ohayo gozaimasu. Uh…” He swallowed, then answered in his best Japanese. “Yes! I’m from America! I know my card is in my bag, but it’s taking a moment to find…”

The blonde man grinned. “Oh! You’re fluent. Your Japanese sounds better than my English… that’s very good! If it’s in your bag, you don’t need to worry. I just keep mine in my wallet… Follow me. I’m still new here as well, I’ll show you around before the meeting.”

The American blushed, then bowed respectfully. “Douzo yoroshiku onegaishimasu!” Rian smiled sheepishly, switching to English almost teasingly. “My name is Rian Shepard. Please feel free to call me Rian, or Ri… I know my last name might be odd.”

The grin broadened. “Douzo yoroshiku. My name’s Toshinori Yagi, and it’s a pleasure to meet you. No need be so formal though, Rian-shounen. Relaxing can be good.”

They both entered the main gate and began walking towards the school, Rian switching to Japanese. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Yagi-san! No offense, but it can be hard to relax around so many people with more experience. This country is very new for me, and I’m excited to try my best. I’m fresh out of college myself, and I don’t want to let Class 1A or the teachers down.”

“Well it’s definitely good to be excited. But remember that we’re all here to help you… I, ah, also work a lot with Class 1A. So hopefully we’ll be able to speak often.”

A smile. “I’d like that Yagi-san.”

Thank you for reading chapter one! If you enjoyed, please leave a like!

CHAPTER TWO

[starspatter]

Saving Today

Title: Saving Today

Fandom/Universe: Wonder Woman/Justice League (DCEU)

Summary: For two people, the time that froze slowly starts to move again.

Rating: PG

Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Friendship/Romance

Word Count: 2,519

AO3 and ff.net links. I read in an interview that Henry Cavill thought Superman's answer to the kids' question at the beginning of the movie would be "Love", which fits well with the theme of WW. (Personally I expected there to be a bookend of Superman's response at the end of the film, and to be something along the lines of "anyone can be a hero/take his place", but I accept that it was left open to interpretation and so did the same here.)

“What’s the best thing about planet earth?”

Superman pauses, taken aback.  Deliberating deep, he meditates off to the distance, squinting at the sky. Into infinite blue space, the place where he once came from.  The sun and source of all of his strength, of life and warmth and cheer.  Soaking it in as he ponders, selecting his words carefully, then smiles.

-

Diana switches off the recording, leaning back from her laptop as she peers towards the photo propped on her desk.  Her fingers extend out, ghosting over the glass, running faint along the gray and grainy faces of ghosts long gone from this world.  Longingly.

“What do you think, Steve? Is he right?”

In lieu of an answer, her phone starts to ring.  Glancing at the Caller ID, she sighs at such inconvenient timing.

It’s true what they say about little boys: Once you share with them, they won’t ever leave you alone.

-

“I want to show you something.”

She trails behind as Wayne guides her through the entry hall of the old, abandoned building.  A cathedral-esque monument, stone worn and sagging with the weight of age on its foundations, yet still standing proud as a testament to time.  Her echoing heels click across the concrete, littered with dust and doves taken roost amongst shattered chandeliers, sent aflutter as soon as the grand doors fling open wide to its central atrium.  Feathers float down from the few decorative hangers still suspended above, dangling crystal shards and stars overhead as they refract shafts of light streaming through the curtains, filtered red and white and gold.

“Must be 100… 150 feet.”

Her host declares with gusto, gazing eagerly around the empty room like a child opening his presents on Christmas day.  An artist before his blank canvas, envisioning masterful brush strokes of an image yet to come into being.

“Must be.”

The butler beside resounds the obvious, with all the clearly learned patience of humoring his master’s many whims.

“Big round table – six chairs – right there.”

Bruce indicates vaguely before him, as Alfred sports an unsurprised smirk, merely grunting softly in acknowledgment.  She struts between the two, chiming in with the words on all their minds:

“…But room for more.”

-

Later, by the lake. Where they walked before, and she spoke of the Motherboxes, of the history of mankind, and their ancestors’ alliance with Amazons and merfolk – and more.  Where he told her not to count on the “tribes of men”, but instead to ask people they didn’t know to risk their lives, and battle beside them for the fate of the world.  To place her faith in the hands of total strangers. To lead again, after what happened to…

“Did you want one?”

“What?”

Diana startles out of her reverie.  She sees Bruce pointing at an ice cream cart by the park path, predictably surrounded by a crowd of kids clamoring for their parents to purchase them frozen treats. Compared to the peaceful environs of their prior private conversation, a part of her prefers the bustling scene during peak hours, as an energetic jogger sprints past, followed by a couple happily holding hands…

“Probably because they’re together.”

“You were staring at it for a long while.  I’ll buy you one if you want.”

Diana shakes her head.

“No, that’s all right. Thank you.”

“Please, allow me,” he insists, reaching for his (no doubt overflowing) wallet.  “As an apology, for the things I said before…”  He hesitates.  “About Steve Trevor.”

She gives him a sidelong glimpse, gauging sincerity.

“You already apologized, Bruce.  You don’t need to do anything more.  Besides,” she breathes a low exhale.  “You were right.  I’ve been using Steve’s memory as a crutch, preventing me from doing the thing I came here to do: Make the world a better place.  Even now,” she confesses quietly, “I have my doubts about returning to be a part of a ‘team’ again.  To step back into the spotlight after all these years…”

She looks out over the still surface of the lake, hugging arms to her breasts in conflict as Bruce heeds her air uncertainties (understanding perhaps all too well).

“You know, I bet an ice cream will make you feel better,” he quirks a grin, coaxing gently.  “C’mon, my treat.”

Admittedly, she can’t help but be amused by his persistence.  Thus despite her reservations, she relents.

“All right,” she agrees at last with a laugh.  “But only if you join me.”

Bruce blanches a bit at the reverse requisite, backpedaling.

“Oh, I uh-” he coughs, belatedly recognizing his own hypocrisy.  “I don’t really eat sweets.”

She doesn’t need to ask to know the answer why.  She can tell just by looking: From the beginning, it was evident that this was a man who’s denied himself the simple joys in life for so long, ostensibly as part of his dedicated crusade for “justice”.  But even underneath that strict self-disciplining façade, a pristine pretense of devotion to one’s trade – the “mission”, as he calls it – it’s easy to discern the raw regret buried deep down; no Lasso of Truth necessary to reveal that much.

“To be honest,” he muses, marveling as if in awe at his own self-realization, “I don’t think I’ve eaten ice cream since I was eight years old.”

“And I haven’t had it in over 100 years,” she rejoins, teasingly rolling her eyes.  “Your point being?”

Bruce rubs the back of his neck, unable to argue with such effective (if extreme) logic being thrown back at him.

“Guess this’ll be a renewed experience for both of us then,” he chuckles, conceding defeat.

They take two scoops: vanilla for her and chocolate for him.  As promised, he pays for her fare.

Etta would be proud, Diana thinks to herself as she tentatively ventures her tongue to taste the delicacy, daring but a delicate dab at first. If only she were here to see as well.  Bold and ever-buoyant despite the loss of her own beloved employer, the bubbly redhead had unabashedly invited her many times to partake in parfaits (no doubt as a benevolent effort to brighten her spirits, albeit framed as but an affable gesture between friends), but she’d always declined, feeling such indulgent fluff forbidden while the wound in her heart was still fresh. Perhaps now, after all this time, she could stand to stomach the superficial associations and permit herself pleasure for once instead of sorrow.

As soon as she bites into the savory snow-white sweetness, rich and airy as a cloud of cream, the dizzying memories melt in her mouth.  Of swaying under a flurry of flakes as people laughed and sang around them, safe and sound after their town had been liberated by a band of heroes.  Of hands grazing tender across her cheek, his lips on hers like the heat of a match spark, kindling tinder in their hearts.  Of a pinned paper princess, watching her steadfast tin soldier go up in flames, wishing to dance with him just once more…

She stops, swallows sugar mixed with salt.  Peeking over at her partner, she observes his own hand halted, cone hovering far from his feeding orifice as dark brown droplets drip down the sides.

“You haven’t touched yours.”

“Huh?”  He blinks.  “Oh…  Sorry, guess I got distracted.”

She traces the direction of his sight, sensing it focused on a particular familial pair nearby: a small boy and his father, as the former tugs on the taller’s sleeve, begging for his favorite flavor.  The man obliges, ruffling his son’s scalp as he gleefully laps up the goodie.  Diana notes Bruce’s grip tighten on his own confectionary, contemplative wrinkles written on his countenance.  A visage veiled with wistful mist.  His eyes are remote, ruminating; like black moons eclipsed by smoke, seemingly somewhere else.

Diana knows that look. She’s seen it in tears of Lois Lane as she cradled her lost love in her limbs (reflecting her own when she witnessed the explosion that took Steve Trevor away from her), crying and kissing his cold skin repeatedly as if it could somehow bring him back to life.  In Martha Kent’s grief at Clark’s – not Superman’s – funeral. …In the mourning of mothers and fathers whose sons never came home from the war.

She knows, he’s lost someone dear to him as well.  It’s forecast in his features, the heavy hunch of his shoulders, bearing an invisible burden on his back.  In the way he watches the two amble away, reuniting with a waiting woman by the water, who welcomes her young with open arms.

It’s no wonder who it was. She saw the suit in the cave, tailored to fit someone of slighter stature.  A costume further customized to fulfill some clown’s sick idea of a joke, defaced with gratuitous graffiti to taunt its presumed maker.  Memorialized in its case (or perhaps more accurately a casket, in this case) like an artifact in a museum.  Doesn’t take much guesswork to connect the gaps, and she deals with historical analysis of such findings on a daily basis.  She doesn’t know the details (nor does she desire to pry), but she can conclude there was another presence there to fill it, once.  …And then there wasn’t.

And yet…  He continues to fight.  For Gotham, for the world, and for his fellow comrades – fallen though they may be.  While a part of her was paralyzed stiff by the all too painful parallels of Superman’s heroic sacrifice, he didn’t let that deter him either, spurring to action instead. To honor his memory by stubbornly seeking out and recruiting those that could take his place.  (…Granted, guilt got to him eventually, to the point of attempting something so implausible that she could hardly believe it even worked.)

…Meanwhile, what has she been doing?  Hiding away in the shadows for a century?  As much as she correctly pointed out Bruce’s personal agenda to absolve himself of blame, he’d retorted right back at her how she’d been holding herself back out of remorse.  …And he was right.  Loathe as she was to announce it aloud, if there was one thing they apparently shared in common, it was their mutual inability to move on.

Maybe it was time to change all that.

She taps his elbow to draw his attention, smiling as she suggests:

“Why don’t we bring some back for Barry?”

Bruce bats his lids in confusion, then seems to light up at the proposal.

“That’s a good idea.  Kid’s like a trash compactor.  I swear he ate almost everything in the manor when he was there.  Alfred complained about having to order more food when he just went grocery shopping.  Speaking of which, remind me to install a fridge at the site.  We’ll need to have supplies handy in order to keep up with his metabolism.”

He approaches the snack stand again, and while its vendor is somewhat stunned by the volume of the request, nevertheless can’t say no to the number of bills being waved in his face and hands over a whole carton.  Bruce beams in satisfaction as he carries it in the crook of one limb, the other still occupied with his original serving, leaving the delighted peddler to count the (many times over) earnings from his secondary sale.  They resume their stroll along the promenade, enjoying their well-deserved desserts whilst Diana listens to her companion carry on about his plans for the “Justice League”, as they’d decided to dub themselves.  There’s a fevered enthusiasm to his tone that she’s sure must have been absent for a long time, and while he’s still a man of many mysteries to her, she finds she doesn’t mind being in the close company of a “stranger” again.  …No, not a stranger.  A teammate.  Someone she’s stood beside in combat (against a conqueror of planets no less), whom she can trust to have her back – and vice-versa.

Who knows.  Perhaps someday he’ll even tell her his story.

And maybe one day she’ll tell him hers.

-

Morning.  Across the pond.  She wakes up. Has breakfast.  Reads the paper.  There’s a major front page headline that catches her eye, about a recent string of museum robberies all across Europe, having now just hit the Louvre. Hitting home.  Before, she wouldn’t have bothered a second thought, believing it none of her business.  (Or rather, not worth garnering too much awareness from the public eye over.)  It was only petty theft after all.  Nothing the Paris police couldn’t handle.  …But then again, priceless antiques were her business, weren’t they?  She had a duty to protect the precious works of art she and others had worked so hard to preserve and maintain.  Besides, as a man once chided her when she temporarily “borrowed” one of his toys: “Stealing’s not polite.”

She places the parchment down, and pupils slide pensively towards the framed picture once again.  Her lips spread as she presses her palm to them, passing fondness on to his behind the pane.

“We saved the world, Steve.  And now I’m going out to save the day.”  With a wink, she turns to fetch her sword and shield.

“Wish me luck.”

-

“Look, it’s Wonder Woman!”

The warrior rotates as a group of youngsters gather excitedly around her, expression widening warmly as she gingerly restores the carved effigy back to its box.  Behind her, uniformed authorities diligently jot down dictation of the already apprehended culprits as they recount exactly how they stole the statuette – amongst numerous other rare and exotic items.  Coming completely clean to every single unresolved crime their gang was behind, courtesy of the compulsion of the radiant rope binding them – even up to and including the minor sin of pinching biscuits from grandmother’s jar at age nine.

Meanwhile, the animated adolescents similarly interrogate their idol, keen interest abundant as they bombard her with an assortment of rapid questions.

“Can I please have your autograph?”

“Is it true you come from an island of all girls?”

“Are you really over 100 years old?”

“Have you ever fought a dinosaur?”

“Um, what’s your favorite ice cream flavor?”

At the last inquiry, the lady’s eyes lower to meet those of the auburn-haired lass, shining up at her with cat-like curiosity.  Her crest is crowned with a black band like a tiara, and a pair of cute kitten ears aptly poke out from her curls, ringlets reminiscent of someone from long ago.

The hero mulls over the query for a moment, considering it with as much momentous import as any other.  It was a tough decision after all, what with so many options to pick from.  (But then “variety is the spice of life”, as they say.  Who would she even be if she stayed the same always, and never tried something new?  To see the beauty of this planet and everything it had to offer with her own eyes, meet and get to know its inhabitants?  Strive to both inspire and learn from their forever changing society, love and cherish and defend – no matter how scared she was of losing them in the end.)

…Finally, she makes her choice – and smiles.

[devilishlyvintage]

The Text-to-Speech Man (A Big Hero 6: The Series Fanfic)

Name: The Text-to-Speech Man

Fandom: Big Hero 6

Words: 4,209 (okay that’s a lot, like ten pages xD)

Summary: Nobody knows who the Text-to-Speech Man really is, only he knows that.

Note: we call bangs fringes in the UK. Just thought i’d clear that up to avoid any confusion.

OC VOICE CLAIMS (I tried to include well-known voice actors/actresses amongst the cartoon community, though included some other famous faces as well):

Daniel Henney as Sunny Elemente

Nolan North as Sunny’s Text-to-Speech watch

Dolly Parton as Aspen Murdock

Greg Cipes as Zach Evans

Jonah Hill as Ted Baxter

Ashly Burch as Natalie Worth

and finally Tara Strong as Danika Kurosawa

It was pressing on into morning, the clouds and sun mixing together to create dusk, the colours of the sky a concoction of reds, oranges, yellows and light pinks.

“Hello, my name is-”

No, that’s not right, thought the man, turning the screwdriver once more. Come on, you’ve got this. You can do this.

“Hello, my name is Sunny-”

Come on, work you stupid thing! God damn it, cursed the man, programming was one of your top subjects, this shouldn’t be so hard!

“Hello, my name is Sunny Elemente.”

The young adult came to a standstill when he heard those words, the words he had been wanting hear for the past four hours. He pressed the tiny button on the silver metal, erasing the current sentence displayed on the holographic screen and typing something else in its place using the keypad.

“I understand that me not talking has caused some concern, but you do not have to worry about that anymore. With this little watch, I can speak to all of you whenever I want. Pretty great, right?”

Unfortunately, the computer didn’t recognise abbreviated language (much to the dismay of its inventor) but, it was better than no result at all. Sunny Elemente relaxed into his spinning chair with a sigh of accomplishment, lighting a cigarette to celebrate his victory.

You did it, man. You did it.

The clock struck 4 AM, a time were people were usually asleep. But no, not Sunny. As much as he wanted to, he was unable to sleep. He thought that things were bad during the day, though at night…

At night, it was a living hell. The flashback, the memories, the screaming echoing in his ears…it was far from soothing. Leaning his head back, Sunny blew smoke out from his mouth and placed the cigarette between his lips, watching the paper burn.

“Sunny?” his friend questioned him as she stopped in the doorway, causing him to quickly sit upright and put his prize out in the ashtray on his work bench. “Is that you?”

Sunny nodded out of habit, though his shielded eyes glanced at the watch on his wrist. He didn’t hesitate in putting it to use, inserting a response so that he could talk with his housemate.

“Yes. It is me. Hello Danika.”

Danika was startled at first; she hadn’t expected to hear a robotic male voice address her so casually. She raised a brow, now more confused than anything.

“How are you doing that?” she asked, walking over to him. Sunny tapped the glass of his modified watch, and then motioned to her to look up. Danika did so, in awe at what her friend had been able to do with just a few simple tools and components.

“Awesome, right? Now I can talk to you and the others without even having to move my lips.”

“Yeah…” Danika said with a nod, a smile spreading across her lips. “Yeah! Sunny, this is fantastic. I can’t believe you were able to make something like this in such a small space of time…except, that’s wrong, isn’t it? You’ve been up for hours, haven’t you?”

“Yes. I have been working on this bad boy for four hours straight; have not gotten a wink of sleep. Now before you say anything, yes, I know I need to rest but…I cannot. Things have not been easy for me recently.”

Danika’s happy expression soon turned to a frown when she heard that. The fourteen year old grabbed a chair and sat opposite her care giver, her dainty hands meeting his padded shoulders.

“You’ve been acting strange for weeks now.” she said, becoming serious. “This isn’t good, not at all. You haven’t been eating or sleeping properly for a while now, it’s…it’s scaring me. You’re scaring me, Sunny.”

Sunny could see the pain glisten in her chocolate eyes; it hurt him to see her like that. It hurt him more than text-to-speech could ever describe. His gloved hands made their way to her face, cupping her cheeks. Their foreheads lightly touched, thumbs brushing away heartfelt tears.

“Do not cry, Danika. Please.”

Danika’s breath hitched, she couldn’t help how she felt. She was worried for someone she cared deeply about, a friend who she would do anything for. Smaller hands rested over larger ones, though not even that could stop the emotions that were falling.

“I-I’m sorry,” she apologised, if anyone should have been crying it was Sunny, he was the one who was suffering. “I-it’s just that…y-you’re my f-f-friend and I…I care a-about y-you. It hurts, you know…I wanna h-help but I…I d-don’t know h-how.”

Sunny said nothing, instead bringing her into a hug. His chin sat on the top of her head, the tears wanted to come out but they simply couldn’t do so.

“You being here is enough. Thank you, for wanting to help me, but there are some problems that you cannot fix. I know that might be hard for you to hear, though it is true. What I am going through is something that I have to help myself recover from, though with you and the others by my side…I feel like I can do anything.”

Lifting his scarf down from the bottom half of his face he kissed Danika’s forehead before pulling it back up, looking at her through his sunglasses.

“You should head back to bed; we have a pretty big day ahead of us.”

“Oh yeah,” Danika remembered, she had completely forgotten until now. “We have the presentation at that college tomorrow, the mutant awareness one, right?”

“Right.” Sunny replied, moving away from her. “See you at breakfast, Danika.”

Danika kissed Sunny’s cheek, humming with content. “See you at breakfast, Sunny.”

Sunny saw the teenager leave from the corner of his eye, a regretful breath passing him as he gently shook his head.

Why…why am I such a coward?

-Mutant Awareness Presentation Day-

“So what’s this presentation Professor Granville wants us all to go to?”  wondered Hiro, holding the straps of his back pack as he walked alongside his friends.

“Beats me.” GoGo shrugged her shoulders. “But, people have been getting pretty hyped about it. Whatever it is, it’s gotta be good if everyone is making such a big fuss.”

“You guys haven’t heard?” Honey Lemon asked, saying a quick ‘hello’ to a passerby she knew. “Apparently people with 'special talents’ are gonna be there, how true that is, i’m not sure. If I had to guess, they’re probably just some really, really smart scientists.”

“I agree with Honey Lemon,” said Wasabi, 'special talents’, his ass. “All their gonna do is show off some top of the range invention and try and convince the audience that it’s gonna 'change their lives’. To be honest, I think i’m just gonna skip it and get breakfast instead, I haven’t eaten anything all morning and i’ve got a really bad headache coming on.”

The muscular rule follower rubbed the side of his forehead, trying to settle the twinges of pain that would make his eyes twitch every few seconds. Hiro could see that Wasabi wasn’t having the best start to the day and stopped, taking his bag off of his shoulders and rummaging through it, handing the darker skinned male a container and plastic fork.

“Here, you need this more than me.”

Wasabi declined; he couldn’t take Hiro’s breakfast.

“I appreciate it the gesture and all, Hiro, but this is your breakfast. I don’t think your aunt would be too happy.”

“Wasabi, I insist.” Hiro said, a small smile on his face. “I wouldn’t want you to get sick. I can get something when we get to SFIT. Please, take it.”

Wasabi glanced at the container of food, a warm expression settling onto his features.

Just like Tadashi.

“Thanks, Hiro.” he thanked, putting the plastic case in his satchel. “Don’t expect me not to buy you lunch for this. Next time, i’m treating you to breakfast”

Wasabi ruffled Hiro’s hair in a friendly manner, earning a toothy grin from the adolescent.

When the nerd gang arrived to SFIT, the presentation was under last minute preparations. The stage was decorated with a large banner saying 'Mutant Awareness 2k32’ and students were setting up the speakers and projectors.

This must be important, thought Hiro. Really important.

“Are you guys hyped or what!?” exclaimed Fred, startling everyone when he arrived. “Sorry i’m late; I was at a comic signing. I met three awesome dudes while I was there; turns out we’re in most of the same fandoms! We exchanged our PS4 ID’s too, so we can play online any time!”

“That’s great, Freddie.” Honey Lemon beamed, happy her friend had met some new people. “I’m glad you made some new friends!”

“Yeah, that sounds awesome, Fred.” Hiro said. While not a huge comic book fan, he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed a light read once in a while. He had been reading some of Tadashi’s old comics from when he was around his age, and good lord did they make him cringe. His older brother definitely had some weird tastes as a fourteen year old. “If they’re at the presentation, maybe you could introduce us to them.”

“You got it, dude.” Fred smiled; he couldn’t wait to keep in contact with his new buddies and beat their butts on multiplayer. It was going to be sweet!

“I don’t know about this you guys,” said Sunny and Danika’s friend, Aspen, with uncertainty. “What if they don’t like it?”

Aspen was nervous about having to talk in front of a huge crowd of people, though Sunny simply took her hands and offered her reassurance.

“It will be okay. Do not worry so much. If anyone wants to poke fun at you, I will kick their asses.”

Aspen chuckled when she heard that, she had become used to her friend’s choice of words that she no longer called him out on his swearing.

Typical Sunny.

“Thanks, hon.” she replied, going to take a look around. She and her friends had a few minutes to go before the presentation began, so she figured she would use the time she had to get a better look of the venue.

“I can’t believe we’re presenting this at my dream school.” Danika looked at SFIT from the distance; she wished she could have applied to study at the college, but the fees were simply too high. Someday, she hoped. Someday.

“You’ll get there, Dani.” her best friend, Natalie, linked her arm. “With your know-how and charm, you’ll be the best for sure. Come on, let’s go with Ted and Zach, they said they wanted to meet that Fred guy the three of us met at the comic store.

Danika smiled sadly, no matter how hard she hoped, no matter how hard she wished, she knew that deep down her dreams were never going to come true. Though she always applied herself to any situation when it came to robotics, having to present an invention of her own at a showcase seemed too daunting, and she had no doubt in her mind that she would freak out and mess up.

"Look who it is,” grinned Ted, gaining Fred’s attention. “Our buddy from the comic store. Didn’t think we’d see you here, man.”

“Dudes!” Fred greeted the two, fist bumping. “Guys, these are my buds Ted and Zach.”

“Hi!” waved Honey Lemon.

“Nice to meet you.” said Wasabi.

“Great, more nerds.” GoGo rolled her eyes, folding her arms. One Fred was bad enough already, she didn’t need to get to know two more.

“And what’s wrong with being a nerd, hm?” Ted put his hands on his hips, raising a brow. Compared to Honey Lemon who was rather tall for a woman, he was huge! “Are you..nerdist?”

Zach gasped dramatically, it all made sense now! “You’re a nerdist!”

“Nerdist!” Fred defended his pals. “Nerdists aren’t cool, dudette!”

“Nerdist!” Natalie joined in, turning away from GoGo with a 'hmph’. “Come on, guys, let’s go talk somewhere else. We shouldn’t have to be around someone who’s a nerdist.”

“I’m not a nerdist!” protested GoGo, she was puzzled as to what was even happening right now. “What even is that!?”

“Now that…” Hiro paused before speaking again. “Was the most confusing thing i’ve ever seen. I guess Fred was right when he said being part of a fanbase is like being a member of a family. Who knew?”

“They’ll cool off in a couple hours; they don’t stay mad for long.” Danika reassured the gang. “Hi, nice to meet you, i’m Danika. Danika Kurosawa. I’ll be one of the presenters for the Mutant Awareness presentation.”

“Mutant…Awareness?” Hiro asked, he could have sworn he’d heard her right. “What’s a…mutant?”

“Yeah, I don’t think i’ve ever heard of them before.” Honey Lemon added. “I mean, i’ve watched movies about heroes with special talents and…no…no way!”

“Yes way.” Danika grinned, if she could she would have given a demonstration, but she had to save it for the show. “I know it may seem hard to believe, but if you watch the presentation later you’ll see it all for yourself. I’m sorry, I know we’ve just met but i’ll have to get going, the presentation starts in ten. It was nice meeting all of you!”

Danika dashed like a bolt of lightning, fast on her feet. Honey Lemon squealed a little in excitement.

“She seems so nice!” she spoke giddily. “And those jeans, I need to find out where she got them!”

Hiro was thinking about Danika’s surname, it somehow seemed familiar to him.

Danika Kurosawa…hmm…have I heard that name before?

***

“I am aware that a lot of you have been looking forward to this and I apologise for the lack of information that was given, I will be sure to fix that error for future events.” Professor Granville spoke into a microphone, clearing her throat as she stood on the stage. “Without any further ado, I would like to introduce you to Mr Sunny Elemente and his friends.”

Granville put the microphone back onto its stand and stepped aside, applauding along with the audience. Sunny appeared from behind the curtain, as did his mutant companions.

“Thank you, Professor Granville.” he said via his watch. “As you already heard, my name is Sunny Elemente and these are my friends. I would like you to meet Aspen Murdock, Zach Evans, Ted Baxter, Danika Kurosawa and Natalie Worth. We are here today so that we can spread awareness about the mutant community and hopefully help give you a better insight about who we are. For your safety, I would advise that all of you each take a step back, because things are about to get hot.”

Cupping both of his palms, Sunny presented a big ball of fire to the audience. It appeared out of thin air and hovered over his skin, which immediately got the attention of those attending the presentation.

“Are you really doing that?” a member of the crowd asked, with Sunny nodding.

“Yes. What am I doing is real, it is not magic of any kind. Unless, you consider mutants to be magical, that is up to you.”

“Amazing…” Hiro trailed off, in complete amazement.

“Tell me about it.” Fred agreed, he’d never been this interested in a public show before.

“That is not all I can do.” Sunny said, making the fire ball disappear. “Watch closely.”

With a click of his fingers he was able to light up candles that had been put on a table for the demonstration. The crowds were close to going wild, but they kept their cool out of respect and a want to see more.

“That’s cool n’ all, but I got a few tricks up my sleeve as well.” Danika smirked, a hand on her hip. “What do you all think of this?”

Granville was not a woman who smiled often, (let alone at all, really) though on this particular occasion she allowed a small one to settle on her lips. She could tell that Danika was a talented individual, a girl who had hopes and dreams just like everyone else.

A young woman who is wise beyond her years. Very good.

The audience went ape like fans at a concert, watching Danika zip and zoom through the air with purple shocks of electricity following her every move and occasionally firing the odd bolt or two. Landing back on the stage gracefully, she gave a bow and blew a kiss to those standing in the audience.

The presentation lasted for a good hour and a half with Natalie, Ted, Zach and Aspen demonstrating their powers. Metal, plant, light and air manipulation were what they individually possessed, and it was amazing to watch. Light made everything seem that extra bit brighter, and with a cool breeze the warm weather was becoming more bearable by the second. The wind blew in Honey Lemon’s hair, catching Ted’s attention. He began blushing, though was able to hide it well from the crowd.

Except from Zach.

“Ooo, someone’s in love.” he teased with a whisper, laughing when Ted playfully punched his arm.

“I am not.” he answered. “Come on; let’s just go answer some questions. Sunny’s getting kinda bombarded, we should go help him out.”

After things had died down and people were going to get their lunch, Sunny and the other mutants had been given the opportunity to have a private tour of SFIT. Professor Granville was being polite to the guests, showing them the different facilities that were offered.

“And this is the lab that belonged to one of our popular students. He unfortunately passed away in a horrific fire, though his legacy lives on in the hearts of his peers.” Granville explained, noticing that Sunny had stopped dead in front of Tadashi’s lab. “Mr Elemente? Is everything all right?”

Sunny could feel the tears coming and this time, he would be unable to stop them. He hated making scenes like this in public, but he couldn’t help it. His breath caught in his throat and his legs felt like jello.

“May I? Please?” he asked the professor, seeing her hold her clipboard to her chest. “Tadashi was an old friend of mine…I…I used to be a student here a long time ago before I dropped out. Other priorities, you see.”

“I was not aware that you were a former student, Mr Elemente.” Granville said. Despite the way Sunny got his words across, she could sense that he had a great deal of pain going on inside. “All right, I will give you a few minutes. But please, try not to break anything. I would like everything to stay exactly how it is, for Mr Hamada’s sake.”

“Of course.”

Sunny walked into the lab, closing the door behind him. Danika was about to go in after him, but Granville stopped her.

“He needs a moment alone, Miss Kurosawa. To remember his friend.” she told her, proceeding on with the tour. “Over here is where our students are working on the next best selling equipment, an upgrade for current virtual reality systems.”

“Wow…” the mutants looked on in unison.

Sunny stood in the centre of the room, enjoying the blissful silence. Unable to hold back any longer, the eighteen year old fell to his knees and cried, burying his face into his hands as he did. He wanted to fight it, he wanted to fight the sadness, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.

“Why…why, why, why!?” he kept asking himself over and over, the burning sensation in his eyes should have caused him distress, though it was nothing of the sort. “Why did this…why did this happen!? Things shouldn’t have been like this…they shouldn’t have!”

Sunny cried and cried, tears sizzling and evaporating into the floor due to their heat. He wanted to stand up and rejoin his friends, though he didn’t have the energy to. His whole self felt numb, deathly numb. It was like time itself had frozen as he reflected on memories, memories of much happier times. His hair hung in front of his face, the sunlight shining on the red streak that was in his fringe, a little touch he had added to make him feel a bit better about himself. Plus, regulars at Good Luck Alley always dyed their hair; he was no exception to the rules of that God forsaken place.

Good Luck Alley…Good luck at getting out alive.

There were times Sunny had feared for his life in that alley. Running away from Yama and his gang of thugs to accidentally using his powers on an innocent civillian who had done no wrong. The Mutant Awareness presentation made life for the gifted seem easy, but in reality it was just as hard as being a regular human being.

“Mr Elemente? Are you all right now?” Professor Granville interrupted Sunny’s moment of peace, the onetime were he could have had some quiet, and she had to ruin it. “Your friends have grown quite worried about you; perhaps you should consider rejoining them.”

“I will rejoin them when I am ready. Please, just a few more minutes.”

“Mr Elemente if you are having personal issues I would highly recommend talking to the people who care about you.” Professor Granville suggested, her conscience telling her to run for some reason. “If it is a mental health problem you are suffering from, I know people who may be able to help.”

“That will not be necessary. Now get out.” Sunny demanded, who did this woman think she was? Telling him that he needed help? He didn’t need help of that kind, he was perfectly fine!

“Mr Elemente, please, there is no need to get angry. I was simply recommending seeing a doctor for your own benefit.” Granville’s hand was searching for the handle, her heart beating faster. “If I have offended in you in some way, then I apologise-”

“GET OUT!” Sunny screamed at her, getting to his feet. Fire surrounded him and fresh tears stayed still on his cheeks; Granville had succeeded in pissing him off even if she hadn’t intended to. “GET OUT! YOU THINK YOU UNDERSTAND ME!? LIKE HELL YOU DO! GET OUT!”

Granville was shocked, lips quivering. Taken aback by the fire mutant’s outburst, she noticed that he was trying to calm down by the way his breathing sounded. Clenching onto her clipboard, she did her best to compose herself, but it was no use.

“So…you can actually speak?” she asked, attempting to break the ice a little. “If you are able to communicate, why do you use text-to-speech? I’m confused.”

“Are you always so nosey?

"Are you always so rude?” Granville retorted, putting her clipboard to the side. “Mr Elemente, you strike me as the type of man who has been through a lot in life. It may surprise you, but I do have feelings. I have emotions just like you or anyone else. I think that behind this act of yours, you are simply someone crying out for help. As I have said, I know a few people who specialise in dealing with matters of the mind.”

“And as I have said nothing is wrong with me. Please, leave me alone.”

Sunny pushed passed her, leaving Tadashi’s lab. He shoved his hands into his pockets, not bothering to join Danika or the others. He couldn’t be bothered with people right now; all he wanted was to be left alone. Was it really too much to ask for?

***

“He just left, without telling anyone?” Aspen asked a student, she was becoming worried for Sunny’s well-being. She knew he hadn’t been himself for a while, and she was scared that his problems were only going to get worst if he kept silent about it all the time.

“Yeah.” replied the student, feeling bad that she wasn’t able to help out more. “I don’t know where he went though, sorry about that. I wish there was more I could do to help. If I see him around, i’ll let him know you’re looking for him.”

“Thank you.” Ted said, hand on Aspen’s shoulder. “Take care.”

“You too.” smiled the student, going back to her friendship group.

“Maybe he went back home?” Natalie suggested, the situation wasn’t getting any better, she could tell that much. “Then again, I think he would'a told us if he was planning on it.”

“Natalie’s right.” said Danika, worried about Sunny just like Aspen was. “Come on, guys, we gotta go look for him. I don’t think…I don’t think he’s in a good state of mind right now.”

Without a second thought, the mutants went to look for their friend, hoping it wasn’t too late to stop him from doing something he would end up regretting later on.

To be continued…

Author’s Note: I apologise for any mistakes in this. I’ve been writing this since 12:00 PM (GMT) today and it’s now 9:15 (so 8 hours worth of writing). I will go back and fix any errors that I think need fixing, and there will be a second part to this. I’m not sure when that will be, but it will happen.

[fyasummershowdown]

Exquisite Corpse: The Tryout

I’d known that this tryout was going to be hard, but I had no idea it would be impossible. I mean, basically impossible. I’d spent all summer training, focusing on my reaction speeds just like EJ warned, only to show up and find out that everything had changed. Like, CHANGED. Overnight.

For those of you who have read the whole story and just want to skip ahead to the CYOA endings:

•  If you want to find out where Benedict put the cloak, read on for LRFYA's ending.

•  If you're looking for a hopeful conclusion, read on for FYAON's ending.

Otherwise, read on!

fyavanwa:

My big competition for goalkeeper, Taylor, got bit this summer, the night of the Fourth of July. She and her brothers were lighting illegal fireworks out on the basketball court, late, after everyone had gone home from the city-sponsored show, and when the cops showed up she ran blindly into the woods toward the park, and that’s where it happened. I didn’t find out until I showed up at tryouts, of course, otherwise I wouldn’t have come, or I would have went out, maybe, for volleyball instead. Because if you’ve seen Teen Wolf (and who hasn’t) you know that no one can beat a werewolf on a court or a field. No one. I looked like an idiot out there.

pghfya:

I lifted myself from the field, my cheeks burning. From the center of a varsity team huddle, Taylor nodded at me as I left the field. I lifted my chin in response, even though I was daydreaming about charging across the dry grass and launching myself at her position-stealing face. In the daydream, I win, but in real life, she’d slaughter me. Quite possibly literally now. It was clear I’d be spending another season on the bench.

I decided to walk home to let the sweat my dry on my skin and the humiliation mellow. The sidewalks were dotted with fellow classmates shouldering backpacks and making their own disappointed ways home: the wannabe jock parade. I turned the corner onto my street and found myself on the heels of a blonde girl with her head bent down, looking at her phone, probably. Her wavy hair was twisted up and she wore a leather jacket over denim shorts, a slouchy bag bouncing at her side. An art kid maybe?

At the other end of the street, a car engine roared and we both looked up. I didn’t even see the other thing approach us until it had barreled into her, knocking her through Mrs. Thompson’s honeysuckle bushes. I raced through the break in the sweet-smelling flowers and greenery to find the girl on her knees, straddling the thing, with what looked like a silver letter opener at its throat.  

What’s that all about, @fyaorlandonorth

fyaorlandonorth:

The girl pushed the letter opener deeper into the, well, what I can only describe as a wolf-man’s neck, and asked with murder in her voice, “Why are you following me, kibble-breath?”

“You know why,” he growled, his eyes fixed on her hand. “She’s getting tired of waiting for you to bring her what is hers.”

“Well, she can wait until she drops dead,” the girl retorted. “I’m not giving it up until I get my brother back.”

“Just give her the—” the wolf started, but she cut him off.

“This is how this is going to go. I’m going to give you a nice little reminder of our time together—” She traced a line in his skin with the blade and a well of red followed. “Then you’re going to crawl back to your den and tell your master that she can meet me tomorrow night outside the school gym at halftime, with my brother, or I’m going to take her precious and bury it in the deepest, darkest hole in the farthest part of the wood I can find and she’ll never see it again.”

“You’re such a b—”

She kneed him in the stomach, cutting off his air supply and sentence, then waved the letter opener menacingly. “You really wanna go there, fur-brain?”

He scrambled back as she jumps off him and made a rude gesture as he sprinted around the side of the house. I swear he looked a little like one of my classmates, but I couldn’t get a positive ID before I noticed those sharp green eyes focused in on me.

I sucked in a breath as she darted towards me with the blade still in her hand. “Whoa, whoa, don’t stick me!” I threw my hands up.

“How much did you hear?” she demanded.

I weighed my options: should I lie or tell the truth?

@lrfya, it’s all yours!

lrfya:

My eyes flitted down to the sharp blade in her hand, then back up to those green eyes shining with fire and intensity. The truth’s a lot less dangerous than lying. “All of it,” I said in a rush. “I’m sorry, please don’t stab me, I didn’t mean to, and I promise I’ll forget everything! I just—I saw you get attacked. I wanted to make sure you were okay.“ I was flustered, and was having trouble forming sentences. “Was that…is he…does that werewolf go to Hamilton High School?” The blonde girl eyed me appraisingly. At her gaze, my skin flushed and my heart quickened. This made me furious – it’s not like I’m some damsel in distress, swooning over a mysterious hero. Yes, she was stunning, all legs and eyes and hair, but I know how to take care of myself! I was on my way to save her. Not that I’ve killed a werewolf before, but at least I had on my silver necklaces. Plus, I had a tonic of wolfsbane oil mixed with holy water in my backpack for the direst of circumstances. Until I saw that letter opener, I was charging in like the cavalry to save the day. I stood a bit straighter, pushing my shoulders back and raising my chin. “Can I put my hands down now at least?” She nodded and dropped the letter opener. Apparently, I’d passed whatever test she’d silently been giving me. “He’s a junior there. You know about werewolves?” she asked. “I just lost my varsity spot to one,” I said glumly. She rolled her eyes. “Your varsity spot? Really? How terrible for you,” she spit at me. “I lost my brother to an entire den, or weren’t you listening?” Oof. Open mouth, insert foot. Maybe two feet. “I’m an idiot. I apologize. His name’s Matt, right? He’s in my French class. Who’s his master, that you were talking about? You said you took something of hers?” Her mouth set in a grim line. “You ask too many questions. Forget that you saw me here, or else.” She turned on her heel, grabbed her bag, and started to head back toward the road. I jogged after her, coming up beside her and matching her stride. I was not letting her get away that easily. “Why would a werewolf take your brother? It doesn’t make any sense.” I was nervous as I said it. My response to our town having become a werewolf home base has thus far been defensive as opposed to offensive. The werewolves I’d encountered up to that point had been mostly harmless, at least off the soccer field. I know in theory they’re dangerous, but here they’ve kept to themselves. I’d heard the girls in the locker room discussing that Taylor’s family had added a secure cell with chains in their rec room for the few nights of the month she changed. The girl sighed. “Because I stole something of hers. Now she’s taken my little brother hostage and she’ll turn him into one of them if I don’t give it back.”

What it do @lonfya?

lonfya:

This seemed like a no brainer, and I was sure there had to be more to it, but I wanted to keep her talking so I went ahead and opened my big mouth. “Give it back.” 

She rolled her eyes so hard I felt it in my retinas. 

“That guy –er –wolf? Whatever, he said she’d release your brother if you give it back. So…give it back. Problem solved.”

“Because the last thing La Lupine is going to do is keep her word.”

“La Lupine?”

“That’s what she calls herself now. Her real name’s Stacey. Or Macey, or Casey. Something like that anyway. She was some big Queen Bee before she got turned and she used her popularity to make half this stupid town think werewolves aren’t dangerous.”

I let out a little laugh. This girl’s obviously taken a knock to the head. “Dacey Jacobson isn’t a werewolf.” 

“You know her?” The girl stopped walking to focus all her attention on me. It was a little scary.

“Of course I do. Her sister Emily is my best friend.”

The girl smiled. “I think we got off on the wrong foot,” she holds out a hand for me to shake. “I’m Diana. I think we’re going to be great friends.”

Take it away, @kcmofya!

kcmofya:

“Haven.” I answered, taking her hand. It was surprisingly soft for someone who apparently spent her days looting and attacking werewolves.

“So, Haven, now that we’re BFFs, I’m going to need you to tell me everything you know about Dacey Jacobson.”

I hesitated for a minute. I did want to help her find her brother, but it almost felt like a betrayal of Emily. I’d never want to do something that could put her at risk. On the other hand, there was no love lost between me and Dacey. She’s been tormenting Emily, and me by extension, since we were 8 years old. I guessed it wasn’t that much of a stretch to think she’d be some kind of evil werewolf queen. 

La Lupine. That ridiculous faux French name sounds exactly like something Dacey would give herself. She could never allow herself to be just a common wolf. Besides, I really wanted to know more about Diana. She was fascinating and beautiful and could wield a letter opener like a switch blade.  

“How do you feel about coffee?” I asked. “Let me buy you a cup and we’ll talk.”

@kcfya It’s all you!

kcfya:

There was nothing quite like the sting of fresh coffee permeating through the air. It was the only solace I could find as I stirred on my steaming cup of triple expresso while Diana downed hers like the fire-hot coffee didn’t burn her throat in the slightest.

I told her as much of Dacey as I could manage on the walk over to the only halfway decent cafe in town: She was the quintessential “IT” girl who peaked way too soon. After failing out her freshman year and calling it a sabbatical, she’d returned home to torment Emily, and, by proxy, me, too. Apparently looks could only get a person so far, and not showing up for class for months on end didn’t bode well with GPA. Only one of the Jacobsen girls had both beauty and brains, and I knew it killed Dacey to see Emily succeed where she had always failed.

“She’s insecure,” Emily had said after one of her infamous rants. “She doesn’t mean half of what comes out of her mouth.”

“That doesn’t mean we have to take it,” I countered. “Why don’t you lure her outside and I’ll accidentally kick a ball into her face.” 

Emily snorted. “You’d have to make the shot first.”

“Touché.”

Was that only yesterday? I wondered. I shook my head. Time was moving at the speed of a bullet. I hadn’t even called Emily yet to tell her the results of the tryouts. Though by my lack of response, I was sure she had figured it out. 

My information on Dacey was apparently not as enticing as Diana had expected. That, or the scowl on her face was permanently etched there. The two of us stared at each other in silence, sizing each other up. I knew couldn’t take the girl if she decided she wanted to fight. I mean, I could leave a good mark, but I saw the way she took down that wolf-man, and was no looking for a repeat performance.

“Sooooo,” I drawled out. “I’ve told you all I know. How about you tell me why my home is now infested with a bunch of slobbering dogs and how your family is in the middle of it?”

@fyadallas go for it!

fyadallas:

Diana looked surprised — like maybe she hadn’t expected me to have that kind of backbone. “I don’t think you really need to know anything more than you do.”

“Oh really?” I replied, crossing my arms. The espresso was zinging through my veins like a firetruck on fire. “I don’t think you’re in a position to make that case. Especially since I can offer you a way in to Dacey’s house — I mean, her den.”

“You can?”

“Yeah,” I said, hoping the plan that was starting to form in my brain wasn’t just the caffeine talking. Emily hated her sister enough that I knew she would help me bring her down. “So spill it. Why is our town crawling with furpeople?”

Diana pushed her empty coffee mug away and sighed. “From what I’ve gathered, Dacey was turned right around the time that she failed out of school. And she spent a year or two just, I don’t know, dealing with it. That’s probably why she was extra bitchy to you, with this secret bottled up inside just festering there. So she bit this mechanic dude.”

“I remember her banging some tattooed guy who worked on cars.“

“He’s like her second in command now,” Diana says. “She started calling herself La Lupine, and they’re just terrorizing the town now, trying to turn as many people as they can.”

“What a bitch,” I said. “Not surprised, though.”

“So my little brother, he’s this uber-nerd who thinks he’s like Sherlock Holmes or something. He started sniffing around, trying to figure out how to stop her, and he discovered this thing she had, the source of all of her so-called power. And he took it. So she took him.”

“What was it?” I asked.

Diana cocked an eyebrow and smiled. “You’re never gonna believe this shit.”

What’s the precious object, @cltfya?? How will our heroes stop the werewolves?

cltfya:

I raised my eyebrows, waiting to be surprised and, impatient with Diana’s dramatic pause for effect, I blurted out, “Okay, spill!!” Diana fiddled with her phone for a moment to pull up a picture, then passed it my way.

I tilted my head and smirked, barely holding back laughter, “…is that…a fucking red cloak? With a hood on it…? Do you mean to tell me…” I put the phone down and shook my head. I passed it her way, almost insulted at the implication from such a seeming bad-ass as Diana. Did she really think I was this gullible?

Diana said, “No, I’m telling you the truth — I didn’t believe it at first either, but the fact that my brother is now kidnapped for stealing it? So yeah…that’s Little Red Riding Hood’s cloak. That’s what giving La Lupine her power and I don’t know where he hid the damn thing. Or how we can get him back from this bitch. I think I need help. My brother was in over his head and I just want him home safe, reading his comics and dreaming the dream. Can you help me?”

So next time on Exquisite Corpse…how will Haven help Diana bring down La Lupine? Where’s this cloak? Ball’s in your court, @cifya.

cifya:

Just then, I realized something. “I think I may know where Dacey has your brother.” I hoped my hunch was right.

“Where?”

“Emily and Dacey’s grandma is traveling all summer and they’ve been taking turns house sitting. Last week Dacey told Emily that she was just going to stay there the rest of the time and that Emily should stay away. I bet that’s her headquarters and where she has your brother. What’s your brother’s name?” I realized she hadn’t said it.

For the first time, Diana almost smiled. “Benedict. Let’s make a plan.”

I texted Emily to meet me at my house. It was time to make a plan to take down Dacey — I cannot called her La Lupine without rolling my eyes. I knew Emily would be willing to help. She was really mad at Dacey when she kicked her out of her grandma’s house.

Diana and I gathered some supplies and went back to my house. Emily was already there. She thought that I’d need some support after failing at tryouts, so she was armed with ice cream and Chex Mix. We hatched a plan for Emily to lure Dacey out of the house. Emily had a key to the house, so we hoped it wouldn’t be too hard to get inside. We had no way of knowing how many creatures we were up against. This wasn’t going to be easy. Our best hope was to get Benedict out unscathed. We made a plan, got in a few hours of rest, and were standing at the back door  at dawn.

All right, @ALVFYA, it’s up to you to finish this!

avlfya:

The three of us were dressed in all black as we made our way to Emily’s grandmother’s house. Unfortunately, Emily had no luck with luring Dacey out. Her calls and texts had gone unanswered, so that only left Plan B.

When we arrived, I look over at Emily and in a hushed voice said, “Okay, you know what to do. Diana and I will be waiting at the back door. Come get us when you’ve gotten rid of her."

Emily nodded confidently as she unlocked the door and stepped inside. Diana and I crouched down under the window and peered in. We located Emily as she slowly walked through the house. Then out of nowhere, La Lupine jogged into the living room and rose up on all-fours.

"What the hell are you doing here, scrub?” she asked as Emily sat her keys on the coffee table.

"Look, sis, I’m not here to fight. I just thought you could use some company tonight. I know how difficult things have been for you lately.“ Emily sounded cool and confident as she sat down on the couch.

Her sister looked at her skeptically. "I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m fine. You should really go home.” Meanwhile outside, Diana and I began to hear howling.

“Oh shit!” I whisper-yelled. “The whole pack must be here!” We looked at each other nervously and sat down in the dirt, backs to the house. Hearts beating fast, we saw shadows dancing on the lawn, coming from the upstairs bedroom. As I peered back into the house, I noticed that Emily had coaxed her sister to the sofa. She was now passed out with her werewolf form cuddled tightly in the fetal position. An almost-empty popcorn bowl lay on the coffee table next to Emily’s keys, and Pretty Little Liars was playing on the flat screen tv. Then Emily silently tip-toed to the back door to let us in.

"I think Benedict is upstairs. I’ll keep an eye on Dacey.” Diana and I silently made our way up the steps. We continued to hear howls intermittently. I about pissed myself each time the sound rang out. Diana turned the doorknob of the master bedroom, and as she pushed it open, it slammed back. I looked at her in shock as the door flung open again, and a stranger’s paws took Diana by the collar. “What the—!” she exclaimed. I followed shortly behind her, and all of a sudden the werewolves-five total-were crouched down on their haunches and growling at both of us.

I quickly scanned the room and saw Benedict sitting in a corner with tears streaming down his face. He looked to be about 10 years old, clearly afraid. Without notice, the werewolves pounced. Diana high-kicked one right in the face and punched another, sending them back to the middle of the room. I stood there, frozen and perplexed on what my next move would be. Clearly my lack of athleticism would not be beneficial here. So I ran toward Benedict. I turned my head to see Diana in mid-air as she round-house kicked another furbag in the face, and then La Lupine made her way into the room.

“I see you’ve come for this little weasel have you? Well, you’re not leaving until I get my cloak."

"You’ll never see that again.” Diana quipped.

"Oh yeah? I’m going to make you wish you were never born!“

At that, La Lupine lunged at Diana, trapping her underneath. I quickly made my way to the open door, rushing Benedict out of the room to join Emily downstairs. I whipped around to find the other two werewolves making their way toward me. I quickly reached down into my backpack that I had flung to the floor upon the initial attack. I positioned the pepper spray and aimed at both of my prey. They began wailing and retreating backward toward the window. Diana and La Lupine continued to struggle on the floor. Finally, I grabbed the secret weapon out of my backpack. The small bottle gleamed in the moonlight. By this time, Diana had La Lupine by the neck, straddling her to keep her from maneuvering.

"Come on, Haven! Now!” I gently shook the bottle of wolfsbane into La Lupine’s open mouth.

In that moment, her big wolf eyes bulged, and her fur grew back into her skin as Diana rose to her feet. Not only that but the other werewolves resumed human form.

“What the hell are you freaks doing here?” Dacey asked as she smoothed her denim skirt. I eyed Diana.

"Oh, just dropping by to say hello.“ I winced. "I guess we better go.”

Diana and I walked downstairs, and she put her arms around Benedict. “Am I glad to see you!” I gave  Emily a quick hug before the three of us proceeded outside in the cold dark night. The cool air feeling good on my perspiring skin.

Once we had walked about a half a mile down the street, Diana turned to Benedict. “So kid, where’d you put the cloak?”

He looked up at her with an evil smile on his face, “That’s for me to know and you to find out…”

•  If you want to find out where Benedict put the cloak, read on for LRFYA's ending.

•  If you're looking for a hopeful conclusion, read on for FYAON's ending.

[krumpwrites]

MHAM Post #18: Kelsey

With the long weekend that just passed, I wanted to wait to share this post until today, when I knew people would be back to their everyday schedules and more likely to read it (it’s just that good).

The writer of this piece is, again, someone I was introduced to through a friend. Her name is Kelsey and, although we don’t know each other in real life, I feel genuinely connected to her after reading her words.

As cliche as it may sound, Kelsey’s writing truly makes you understand what it feels like to be a part of the roller coaster ride that is her dad’s mental health and addiction struggles. 

My favorite thing about this piece is how well it shows that people’s experiences can impact their loved ones mental health too. 

It’s heart-felt and heart-breaking all at once, and I’m pumped to share it here:  

HERO: My dad is my hero. He is my favorite person in the whole, entire universe. We have the same humor, we have the same cackle, and we have the same antsiness when it comes to scheduling/agendas. Our hobbies together include: Watching Family Guy, making terrible, bologna sandwiches (drenched in too much Oscar Meyer, mustard) and taking midday naps in a shitty, box-fanned vortex, with our two, unruly Irish Setters.

My dad is a Clinical Social Worker. And he’s damn good at what he does.

I’ve listened-in on countless, midnight phone calls, convincing his clients to “make it” or “hold on” until tomorrow. My dad would repeat: “Phil, you won’t feel like this tomorrow- It might not be any better, it might only feel slightly different. But I’ll guarantee you: It won’t feel the same.”

Dad would take a few minutes, nodding/listening to the distraught man on the other end, “Phil, call me in the morning. Promise me you’ll be around.” And just like that, Dad and I would continue our movie night, no comments/questions needed. Phil would call 6am tomorrow morning.

On the weekends, we’d go to garage sales so dad could, “Buy Richard a table for his Birthday,” because Richard didn’t own any furniture. We would take a pit stop, on the way to the grocery store, so dad could “Give Janice a pack of cigarettes, and a Snickers, so she’d make it through the week.” Always something.  

He’s my hero. But he wasn’t always.

THE BEGINNING: I found out my dad had a problem in 2005, when I was in 8th grade. Through Mom’s crying, through selling our home, and through a short-lived divorce, I found out that my dad had another talent.

My dad is addicted to Poker. And he was damn good at what he did.

Until he wasn’t.

We lost a lot that year. My parents decided that restarting (again) in Idaho was the best option. In turn, we watched my dad like a hawk, and Dad attended Gamblers Anonymous Meetings (G.A.). Out of guilt, Dad encouraged mom to be a stay-at-home mom. In turn (because her babies weren’t in need of this role), Mom reconnected with her good friend, wine cooler.

Looking back, I never recall being sad. My parents were always dysfunctional. My dad always worked a lot, and mom always drank. Just how it was.

LATER ON: By 2014, Dad had stopped going to G.A. Meetings, and Mom was Mom (that’s another story, for another time). Dad was working later nights. He was gone more weekends. He was on-edge, stressed from working On-Call at the hospital. I loved my Dad, but he was definitely a different person than he was in 2005. But I understood. Mom wasn’t working. He needed the extra cash. I’d pitch in when I could. I would let him borrow $200 here, $300 there. I’d let him put groceries on my credit card.

Regardless, I was proud. Dad had stopped playing poker.

Until he didn’t.

In summer of 2014, we found out Dad had never actually been working nights, or going to Hospital seminars over the weekends. Dad was never borrowing money for groceries… Dad’s friend, John cracked one day when Mom cornered him. “John. Where’s Steve? And don’t you dare lie to me.” John whimpered, “He’s at a casino in northern Idaho. He will tell you he’s in Vegas, but he’s not. Someone needs to drive and get him…”

Dad finally called, after ignoring our calls for 3 days. “Jan. I messed up. It’s bad.”

Over the last year, Dad had gambled away an unspeakable amount of money. He took money from my Brother and I to count cards, and he maxed out our credit cards. I thought, “Kelsey…How could you be so blind?”

That was just the beginning.

ACUTE WITHDRAWAL SYNDROME: We also found out that Dad had been abusing opioids. He had been addicted for the last 7 years. My Brother and I knew that Dad would pop an anxiety pill here and there… but we didn’t realize the dosage, or frequency, or how bad it really was.

Wasn’t it normal to take an anxiety pill, every once in awhile?

With his new job in Boise, insurances/doctors had changed, and Dad no longer had the “Doctor, Homie-Hook-Up.” Dad went off these drugs cold turkey. In turn, Dad went crazy. In 2014, Dad started going through Acute, Opiate Withdrawal Syndrome. (It’s now 2017. He isn’t any better.)

Dad stopped being any form of my Dad. His “Family Guy humor” stopped, his cackle stopped, and he spent most of his time in the room of vortex fans, sleeping. His hands shook. He preferred to sit alone, instead of goofing with his kids.

Recently here in 2017, Dad tried to explain this chemical imbalance/withdrawal syndrome to my Aunt. “It feels like I’m going to jump out of my skin. And I have a hard time with day-to-day tasks. The thought of shaving gives me high anxiety.” He continued with a story: One-day at work (before he realized how bad it was), Dad was counseling a couple. The couple was fighting in Spanish, and Dad couldn’t get a word in. Dad was patiently waiting for them to stop speaking Spanish, so he could help.

Turns out…

The couple was speaking English.

SHIT HAPPENS: Later in the summer, Dad crashed the Prius. His reply to the accident was, “I wish it killed me.” That day Mom took Grandpa’s guns from the house.

A couple months after Dad fessed up about gambling, and beginning the journey of this new mental illness, Dad lost his job. They were losing the house. My brother broke his arm and lost his job as well. I was the only one in my family with a job, and I was just offered an internship at my dream job, outside Seattle.

One Saturday afternoon, while working in the Boise, Idaho Mall, I had a full-blown panic attack. I fell in the backroom at my store, chest pounding, not being able to breath. How could I leave to Seattle for this internship? “How dare I think about leaving them.”

CONCLUSION: My boss at the time (now Mentor, and who I consider a best friend), Meghan, found me defeated on the dust-bunny covered, cement floor. I’ll never forget the way she calmed me down. These were the conclusions she lead me to (took me until just now to finally accept):

-I can’t save my parents -I can’t send them money (no matter how indirectly I’m asked) -Mental illness is real -Suicide is real; I can’t blame myself -I can only focus on me, and my well being

 Because of this mind-set, I’ve accomplished so much more than I thought I could.

-I took my dream internship outside Seattle -I became a Jr. Marketing Coordinator for the company -I paid off my car (big win for me!) -I dropped in on my first mini-ramp -I received my Bachelors of Business Administration Degree -I moved to California -I became a Marketing Coordinator for another, kick-ass company -I started volunteering for a dog rescue 

NEXT STEPS: My dad rarely calls. When he does, and I see his caller ID, I think “Is he ok? Is he calling to say goodbye?”  This is the truth I live with.

We lost our house, and my childhood memorabilia, yearbooks, and Harry Potter action figures are stored in my best friend’s garage.  My parents are living pay-check-to-pay-check in a small, rental house. Mom finally got a job after 8 years. Dad is on unable to work, and is applying for disability. I haven’t been home in 8 months, and I’m honestly a little scared to.

However… When days are bad, and holidays away from Idaho feel extra heavy… I think back to when my dad helped Phil, on the phone all those nights…

“Kelsey…you won’t feel like this tomorrow- It might not be any better, it might only feel slightly different. But I’ll guarantee you: It won’t feel the same.”

[readbookywooks]

The Rogue Bludger

Since the disastrous episode of the pixies, Professor Lockhart had not brought live creatures to class. Instead, he read passages from his books to them, and sometimes reenacted some of the more dramatic bits. He usually picked Harry to help him with these reconstructions; so far, Harry had been forced to play a simple Transylvanian villager whom Lockhart had cured of a Babbling Curse, a yeti with a head cold, and a vampire who had been unable to eat anything except lettuce since Lockhart had dealt with him. Harry was hauled to the front of the class during their very next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, this time acting a werewolf. If he hadn't had a very good reason for keeping Lockhart in a good mood, he would have refused to do it. "Nice loud howl, Harry - exactly - and then, if you'll believe it, I pounced - like this - slammed him to the floor - thus with one hand, I managed to hold him down - with my other, I put my wand to his throat - I then screwed up my remaining strength and performed the immensely complex Homorphus Charm- he let out a piteous moan - go on, Harry - higher than that - good - the fur vanished - the fangs shrank - and he turned back into a man. Simple, yet effective - and another village will remember me forever as the hero who delivered them from the monthly terror of werewolf attacks." The bell rang and Lockhart got to his feet. "Homework - compose a poem about my defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf! Signed copies of Magical Me to the author of the best one!" The class began to leave. Harry returned to the back of the room, where Ron and Hermione were waiting. "Ready?" Harry muttered. "Wait till everyone's gone," said Hermione nervously. "All right..." She approached Lockhart's desk, a piece of paper clutched tightly in her hand, Harry and Ron right behind her. "Er - Professor Lockhart?" Hermione stammered. "I wanted to - to get this book out of the library. Just for background reading." She held out the piece of paper, her hand shaking slightly. "But the thing is, it's in the Restricted Section of the library, so I need a teacher to sign for it - I'm sure it would help me understand what you say in Gadding with Ghouls about slow-acting venoms." "Ah, Gadding with Ghouls!" said Lockhart, taking the note from Hermione and smiling widely at her. "Possibly my very favorite book. You enjoyed it?" "Oh, yes," said Hermione eagerly. "So clever, the way you trapped that last one with the tea-strainer--" "Well, I'm sure no one will mind me giving the best student of the year a little extra help," said Lockhart warmly, and he pulled out an enormous peacock quill. "Yes, nice, isn't it?" he said, misreading the revolted look on Ron's face. "I usually save it for book-signings." He scrawled an enormous loopy signature on the note and handed it back to Hermione. "So, Harry," said Lockhart, while Hermione folded the note with fumbling fingers and slipped it into her bag. "Tomorrow's the first Quidditch match of the season, I believe? Gryffindor against Slytherin, is it not? I hear you're a useful player. I was a Seeker, too. I was asked to try for the National Squad, but preferred to dedicate my life to the eradication of the Dark Forces. Still, if ever you feel the need for a little private training, don't hesitate to ask. Always happy to pass on my expertise to less able players..." Harry made an indistinct noise in his throat and then hurried off after Ron and Hermione. "I don't believe it," he said as the three of them examined the signature on the note. "He didn't even look at the book we wanted." "That's because he's a brainless git," said Ron. "But who cares, we've got what we needed-" "He is not a brainless git," said Hermione shrilly as they half ran toward the library. "Just because he said you were the best student of the year--" They dropped their voices as they entered the muffled stillness of the library. Madam Pince, the librarian, was a thin, irritable woman who looked like an underfed vulture. "Moste Potente Potions?" she repeated suspiciously, trying to take the note from Hermione; but Hermione wouldn't let go. "I was wondering if I could keep it," she said breathlessly. "Oh, come on," said Ron, wrenching it from her grasp and thrusting it at Madam Pince. "We'll get you another autograph. Lockhart'll sign anything if it stands still long enough." Madam Pince held the note up to the light, as though determined to detect a forgery, but it passed the test. She stalked away between the lofty shelves and returned several minutes later carrying a large and moldy-looking book. Hermione put it carefully into her bag and they left, trying not to walk too quickly or look too guilty. Five minutes later, they were barricaded in Moaning Myrtle's out-of-order bathroom once again. Hermione had overridden Ron's objections by pointing out that it was the last place anyone in their right minds would go, so they were guaranteed some privacy. Moaning Myrtle was crying noisily in her stall, but they were ignoring her, and she them. Hermione opened Moste Potente Potions carefully, and the three of them bent over the damp-spotted pages. It was clear from a glance why it belonged in the Restricted Section. Some of the potions had effects almost too gruesome to think about, and there were some very unpleasant illustrations, which included a man who seemed to have been turned inside out and a witch sprouting several extra pairs of arms out of her head. "Here it is," said Hermione excitedly as she found the page headed The Polyjuice Potion. It was decorated with drawings of people halfway through transforming into other people. Harry sincerely hoped the artist had imagined the looks of intense pain on their faces. "This is the most complicated potion I've ever seen," said Hermione as they scanned the recipe. "Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, and knotgrass," she murmured, running her finger down the list of ingredients. "Well, they're easy enough, they're in the student store-cupboard, we can help ourselves... Oooh, look, powdered horn of a bicorn - don't know where we're going to get that - shredded skin of a boomslang -. that'll be tricky, too and of course a bit of whoever we want to change into." "Excuse me?" said Ron sharply. "What d'you mean, a bit of whoever we're changing into? I'm drinking nothing with Crabbe's toenails in it--" Hermione continued as though she hadn't heard him. "We don't have to worry about that yet, though, because we add those bits last..." Ron turned, speechless, to Harry, who had another worry. "D'you realize how much we're going to have to steal, Hermione? Shredded skin of a boomslang, that's definitely not in the students'cupboard. What're we going to do, break into Snape's private stores? I don't know if this is a good idea..." Hermione shut the book with a snap. "Well, if you two are going to chicken out, fine," she said. There were bright pink patches on her cheeks and her eyes were brighter than usual. "I don't want to break rules, you know. I think threatening Muggle-borns is far worse than brewing up a difficult potion. But if you don't want to find out if it's Malfoy, I'll go straight to Madam Pince now and hand the book back in. "I never thought Id see the day when you'd be persuading us to break rules," said Ron. "All right, we'll do it. But not toenails, okay?" "How long will it take to make, anyway?" said Harry as Hermione, looking happier, opened the book again. "Well, since the fluxweed has got to be picked at the full moon and the lacewings have got to be stewed for twenty-one days... I'd say it'd be ready in about a month, if we can get all the ingredients." "A month?" said Ron. "Malfoy could have attacked half the Muggle-borns in the school by then!" But Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously again, and he added swiftly, "But it's the best plan we've got, so full steam ahead, I say." However, while Hermione was checking that the coast was clear for them to leave the bathroom, Ron muttered to Harry, "It'll be a lot less hassle if you can just knock Malfoy off his broom tomorrow." Harry woke early on Saturday morning and lay for a while thinking about the coming Quidditch match. He was nervous, mainly at the thought of what Wood would say if Gryffindor lost, but also at the idea of facing a team mounted on the fastest racing brooms gold could buy. He had never wanted to beat Slytherin so badly. After half an hour of lying there with his insides churning, he got up, dressed, and went down to breakfast early, where he found the rest of the Gryffindor team huddled at the long, empty table, all looking uptight and not speaking much. As eleven o'clock approached, the whole school started to make its way down to the Quidditch stadium. It was a muggy sort of day with a hint of thunder in the air. Ron and Hermione came hurrying over to wish Harry good luck as he entered the locker rooms. The team pulled on their scarlet Gryffindor robes, then sat down to listen to Wood's usual pre-match pep talk. "Slytherin has better brooms than us," he began. "No point denying it. But we've got better people on our brooms. We've trained harder than they have, we've been flying in all weathers -"("Too true," muttered George Weasley. "I haven't been properly dry since August")"- and we're going to make them rue the day they let that little bit of slime, Malfoy, buy his way onto their team." Chest heaving with emotion, Wood turned to Harry. "It'll be down to you, Harry, to show them that a Seeker has to have something more than a rich father. Get to that Snitch before Malfoy or die trying, Harry, because we've got to win today, we've got to." "So no pressure, Harry" said Fred, winking at him. As they walked out onto the pitch, a roar of noise greeted them; mainly cheers, because Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were anxious to see Slytherin beaten, but the Slytherins in the crowd made their boos and hisses heard, too. Madam Hooch, the Quidditch teacher, asked Flint and Wood to shake hands, which they did, giving each other threatening stares and gripping rather harder than was necessary. "On my whistle," said Madam Hooch. "Three... two... one..." With a roar from the crowd to speed them upward, the fourteen players rose toward the leaden sky. Harry flew higher than any of them, squinting around for the Snitch. "All right there, Scarhead?" yelled Malfoy, shooting underneath him as though to show off the speed of his broom. Harry had no time to reply. At that very moment, a heavy black Bludger came pelting toward him; he avoided it so narrowly that he felt it ruffle his hair as it passed. "Close one, Harry!" said George, streaking past him with his club in his hand, ready to knock the Bludger back toward a Slytherin. Harry saw George give the Bludger a powerful whack in the direction of Adrian Pucey, but the Bludger changed direction in midair and shot straight for Harry again. Harry dropped quickly to avoid it, and George managed to hit it hard toward Malfoy. Once again, the Bludger swerved like a boomerang and shot at Harry's head. Harry put on a burst of speed and zoomed toward the other end of the pitch. He could hear the Bludger whistling along behind him. What was going on? Bludgers never concentrated on one player like this; it was their job to try and unseat as many people as possible... Fred Weasley was waiting for the Bludger at the other end. Harry ducked as Fred swung at the Bludger with all his might; the Bludger was knocked off course. "Gotcha!" Fred yelled happily, but he was wrong; as though it was magnetically attracted to Harry, the Bludger pelted after him once more and Harry was forced to fly off at full speed. It had started to rain; Harry felt heavy drops fall onto his face, splattering onto his glasses. He didn't have a clue what was going on in the rest of the game until he heard Lee Jordan, who was commentating, say, "Slytherin lead, sixty points to zero. The Slytherins'superior brooms were clearly doing their jobs, and meanwhile the mad Bludger was doing all it could to knock Harry out of the air. Fred and George were now flying so close to him on either side that Harry could see nothing at all except their flailing arms and had no chance to look for the Snitch, let alone catch it. "Someone's - tampered - with - this - Bludger -" Fred grunted, swinging his bat with all his might at it as it launched a new attack on Harry. "We need time out," said George, trying to signal to Wood and stop the Bludger breaking Harry's nose at the same time. Wood had obviously got the message. Madam Hooch's whistle rang out and Harry, Fred, and George dived for the ground, still trying to avoid the mad Bludger. "What's going on?" said Wood as the Gryffindor team huddled together, while Slytherins in the crowd jeered. "We're being flattened. Fred, George, where were you when that Bludger stopped Angelina scoring?" "We were twenty feet above her, stopping the other Bludger from murdering Harry, Oliver," said George angrily. "Someone's fixed it - it won't leave Harry alone. It hasn't gone for anyone else all game. The Slytherins must have done something to it." "But the Bludgers have been locked in Madam Hooch's office since our last practice, and there was nothing wrong with them then..." said Wood, anxiously. Madam Hooch was walking toward them. Over her shoulder, Harry could see the Slytherin team jeering and pointing in his direction. "Listen," said Harry as she came nearer and nearer, "with you two flying around me all the time the only way I'm going to catch the Snitch is if it flies up my sleeve. Go back to the rest of the team and let me deal with the rogue one." "Don't be thick," said Fred. "It'll take your head off." Wood was looking from Harry to the Weasleys. "Oliver, this is insane," said Alicia Spinner angrily. "You can't let Harry deal with that thing on his own. Let's ask for an inquiry..." "If we stop now, we'll have to forfeit the match!" said Harry. "And we're not losing to Slytherin just because of a crazy Bludger! Come on, Oliver, tell them to leave me alone!" "This is all your fault," George said angrily to Wood. "`Get the Snitch or die trying,'what a stupid thing to tell him--" Madam Hooch had joined them. "Ready to resume play?" she asked Wood. Wood looked at the determined look on Harry's face. "All right," he said. "Fred, George, you heard Harry - leave him alone and let him deal with the Bludger on his own." The rain was falling more heavily now. On Madam Hooch's whistle, Harry kicked hard into the air and heard the telltale whoosh of the Bludger behind him. Higher and higher Harry climbed; he looped and swooped, spiraled, zigzagged, and rolled. Slightly dizzy, he nevertheless kept his eyes wide open, rain was speckling his glasses and ran up his nostrils as he hung upside down, avoiding another fierce dive from the Bludger. He could hear laughter from the crowd; he knew he must look very stupid, but the rogue Bludger was heavy and couldn't change direction as quickly as Harry could; he began a kind of roller-coaster ride around the edges of the stadium, squinting through the silver sheets of rain to the Gryffindor goal posts, where Adrian Pucey was trying to get past Wood. A whistling in Harry's ear told him the Bludger had just missed him again; he turned right over and sped in the opposite direction. "Training for the ballet, Potter?" yelled Malfoy as Harry was forced to do a stupid kind of twirl in midair to dodge the Bludger, and he fled, the Bludger trailing a few feet behind him; and then, glaring back at Malfoy in hatred, he saw it - the Golden Snitch. It was hovering inches above Malfoy's left ear - and Malfoy, busy laughing at Harry, hadn't seen it. For an agonizing moment, Harry hung in midair, not daring to speed toward Malfoy in case he looked up and saw the Snitch. WHAM. He had stayed still a second too long. The Bludger had hit him at last, smashed into his elbow, and Harry felt his arm break. Dimly, dazed by the searing pain in his arm, he slid sideways on his rain-drenched broom, one knee still crooked over it, his right arm dangling useless at his side - the Bludger came pelting back for a second attack, this time zooming at his face - Harry swerved out of the way, one idea firmly lodged in his numb brain: get to Malfoy. Through a haze of rain and pain he dived for the shimmering, sneering face below him and saw its eyes widen with fear: Malfoy thought Harry was attacking him. "What the -" he gasped, careening out of Harry's way. Harry took his remaining hand off his broom and made a wild snatch; he felt his fingers close on the cold Snitch but was now only gripping the broom with his legs, and there was a yell from the crowd below as he headed straight for the ground, trying hard not to pass out. With a splattering thud he hit the mud and rolled off his broom. His arm was hanging at a very strange angle; riddled with pain, he heard, as though from a distance, a good deal of whistling and shouting. He focused on the Snitch clutched in his good hand. "Aha," he said vaguely. "We've won." And he fainted. He came around, rain falling on his face, still lying on the field, with someone leaning over him. He saw a glitter of teeth. "Oh, no, not you," he moaned. "Doesn't know what he's saying," said Lockhart loudly to the anxious crowd of Gryffindors pressing around them. "Not to worry, Harry. I'm about to fix your arm." "No!" said Harry. "I'll keep it like this, thanks..." He tried to sit up, but the pain was terrible. He heard a familiar clicking noise nearby. "I don't want a photo of this, Colin," he said loudly. "Lie back, Harry," said Lockhart soothingly. "It's a simple charm I've used countless times--" "Why can't I just go to the hospital wing?" said Harry through clenched teeth. "He should really, Professor," said a muddy Wood, who couldn't help grinning even though his Seeker was injured. "Great capture, Harry, really spectacular, your best yet, I'd say--" Through the thicket of legs around him, Harry spotted Fred and George Weasley, wrestling the rogue Bludger into a box. It was still putting up a terrific fight. "Stand back," said Lockhart, who was rolling up his jade-green sleeves. "No - don't -" said Harry weakly, but Lockhart was twirling his wand and a second later had directed it straight at Harry's arm. A strange and unpleasant sensation started at Harry's shoulder and spread all the way down to his fingertips. It felt as though his arm was being deflated. He didn't dare look at what was happening. He had shut his eyes, his face turned away from his arm, but his worst fears were realized as the people above him gasped and Colin Creevey began clicking away madly. His arm didn't hurt anymore - nor did it feel remotely like an arm. "Ah," said Lockhart. "Yes. Well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken. That's the thing to bear in mind. So, Harry, just toddle up to the hospital wing - ah, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, would you escort him? - and Madam Pomfrey will be able to - er - tidy you up a bit." As Harry got to his feet, he felt strangely lopsided. Taking a deep breath he looked down at his right side. What he saw nearly made him pass out again. Poking out of the end of his robes was what looked like a thick, flesh-colored rubber glove. He tried to move his fingers. Nothing happened. Lockhart hadn't mended Harry's bones. He had removed them. Madam Pomfrey wasn't at all pleased. "You should have come straight to me!" she raged, holding up the sad, limp remainder of what, half an hour before, had been a working arm. "I can mend bones in a second - but growing them back--" "You will be able to, won't you?" said Harry desperately. "I'll be able to, certainly, but it will be painful," said Madam Pomfrey grimly, throwing Harry a pair of pajamas. "You'll have to stay the night..." Hermione waited outside the curtain drawn around Harry's bed while Ron helped him into his pajamas. It took a while to stuff the rubbery, boneless arm into a sleeve. "How can you stick up for Lockhart now, Hermione, eh?" Ron called through the curtain as he pulled Harry's limp fingers through the cuff. "If Harry had wanted deboning he would have asked." "Anyone can make a mistake," said Hermione. "And it doesn't hurt anymore, does it, Harry?" "No," said Harry, getting into bed. "But it doesn't do anything else either." As he swung himself onto the bed, his arm flapped pointlessly. Hermione and Madam Pomfrey came around the curtain. Madam Pomfrey was holding a large bottle of something labeled Skele-Gro. "You're in for a rough night," she said, pouring out a steaming beakerful and handing it to him. "Regrowing bones is a nasty business." So was taking the Skele-Gro. It burned Harry's mouth and throat as it went down, making him cough and splutter. Still tut-tutting about dangerous sports and inept teachers, Madam Pomfrey retreated, leaving Ron and Hermione to help Harry gulp down some water. "We won, though," said Ron, a grin breaking across his face. "That was some catch you made. Malfoy's face... he looked ready to kill..." "I want to know how he fixed that Bludger," said Hermione darkly. "We can add that to the list of questions we'll ask him when we've taken the Polyjuice Potion," said Harry, sinking back onto his pillows. "I hope it tastes better than this stuff..." "If it's got bits of Slytherins in it? You've got to be joking," said Ron. The door of the hospital wing burst open at that moment. Filthy and soaking wet, the rest of the Gryffindor team had arrived to see Harry. "Unbelievable flying, Harry," said George. "I've just seen Marcus Flint yelling at Malfoy. Something about having the Snitch on top of his head and not noticing. Malfoy didn't seem too happy." They had brought cakes, sweets, and bottles of pumpkin juice; they gathered around Harry's bed and were just getting started on what promised to be a good party when Madam Pomfrey came storming over, shouting, "This boy needs rest, he's got thirty-three bones to regrow! Out! OUT!" And Harry was left alone, with nothing to distract him from the stabbing pains in his limp arm. Hours and hours later, Harry woke quite suddenly in the pitch blackness and gave a small yelp of pain: His arm now felt full of large splinters. For a second, he thought that was what had woken him. Then, with a thrill of horror, he realized that someone was sponging his forehead in the dark. "Get off!" he said loudly, and then, "Dobby!" The house-elf's goggling tennis ball eyes were peering at Harry through the darkness. A single tear was running down his long, pointed nose. "Harry Potter came back to school," he whispered miserably. "Dobby warned and warned Harry Potter. Ah sir, why didn't you heed Dobby? Why didn't Harry Potter go back home when he missed the train?" Harry heaved himself up on his pillows and pushed Dobby's sponge away. "What're you doing here?" he said. "And how did you know I missed the train?" Dobby's lip trembled and Harry was seized by a sudden suspicion. "It was you!" he said slowly. "You stopped the barrier from letting us through!" "Indeed yes, sir," said Dobby, nodding his head vigorously, ears flapping. "Dobby hid and watched for Harry Potter and sealed the gateway and Dobby had to iron his hands afterward" - he showed Harry ten long, bandaged fingers - "but Dobby didn't care, sir, for he thought Harry Potter was safe, and never did Dobby dream that Harry Potter would get to school another way!" He was rocking backward and forward, shaking his ugly head. "Dobby was so shocked when he heard Harry Potter was back at Hogwarts, he let his master's dinner burn! Such a flogging Dobby never had, sir..." Harry slumped back onto his pillows. "You nearly got Ron and me expelled," he said fiercely. "You'd better get lost before my bones come back, Dobby, or I might strangle you." Dobby smiled weakly. "Dobby is used to death threats, sir. Dobby gets them five times a day at home." He blew his nose on a corner of the filthy pillowcase he wore, looking so pathetic that Harry felt his anger ebb away in spite of himself. "Why d'you wear that thing, Dobby?" he asked curiously. "This, sir?" said Dobby, plucking at the pillowcase. " Tis a mark of the house-elf's enslavement, sir. Dobby can only be freed if his masters present him with clothes, sir. The family is careful not to pass Dobby even a sock, sir, for then he would be free to leave their house forever." Dobby mopped his bulging eyes and said suddenly, "Harry Potter must go home! Dobby thought his Bludger would be enough to make--" "Your Bludger?" said Harry, anger rising once more. "What d'you mean, your Bludger? You made that Bludger try and kill me?" "Not kill you, sir, never kill you!" said Dobby, shocked. "Dobby wants to save Harry Potter's life! Better sent home, grievously injured, than remain here sir! Dobby only wanted Harry Potter hurt enough to be sent home!" "Oh, is that all?" said Harry angrily. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you wanted me sent home in pieces?" "Ah, if Harry Potter only knew!" Dobby groaned, more tears dripping onto his ragged pillowcase. "If he knew what he means to us, to the lowly, the enslaved, we dregs of the magical world! Dobby remembers how it was when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of his powers, sir! We house-elves were treated like vermin, sir! Of course, Dobby is still treated like that, sir," he admitted, drying his face on the pillowcase. "But mostly, sir, life has improved for my kind since you triumphed over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Harry Potter survived, and the Dark Lord's power was broken, and it was a new dawn, sir, and Harry Potter shone like a beacon of hope for those of us who thought the Dark days would never end, sit... And now, at Hogwarts, terrible things are to happen, are perhaps happening already, and Dobby cannot let Harry Potter stay here now that history is to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more." Dobby froze, horrorstruck, then grabbed Harry's water jug from his bedside table and cracked it over his own head, toppling out of sight. A second later, he crawled back onto the bed, cross-eyed, muttering, "Bad Dobby, very bad Dobby..." "So there is a Chamber of Secrets?" Harry whispered. "And did you say it's been opened before? Tell me, Dobby!" He seized the elf's bony wrist as Dobby's hand inched toward the water jug. "But I'm not Muggle-born - how can I be in danger from the Chamber?" "Ah, sir, ask no more, ask no more of poor Dobby," stammered the elf, his eyes huge in the dark. "Dark deeds are planned in this place, but Harry Potter must not be here when they happen - go home, Harry Potter, go home. Harry Potter must not meddle in this, sir, tis too dangerous--" "Who is it, Dobby?" Harry said, keeping a firm hold on Dobby's wrist to stop him from hitting himself with the water jug again. "Who's opened it? Who opened it last time?" "Dobby can't, sir, Dobby can't, Dobby mustn't tell!" squealed the elf. "Go home, Harry Potter, go home!" "I'm not going anywhere!" said Harry fiercely. "One of my best friends is Muggle-born; she'll be first in line if the Chamber really has been opened--" "Harry Potter risks his own life for his friends!" moaned Dobby in a kind of miserable ecstasy. "So noble! So valiant! But he must save himself, he must, Harry Potter must not--" Dobby suddenly froze, his bat ears quivering. Harry heard it, too. There were footsteps coming down the passageway outside. "Dobby must go!" breathed the elf, terrified. There was a loud crack, and Harry's fist was suddenly clenched on thin air. He slumped back into bed, his eyes on the dark doorway to the hospital wing as the footsteps drew nearer. Next moment, Dumbledore was backing into the dormitory, wearing a long woolly dressing gown and a nightcap. He was carrying one end of what looked like a statue. Professor McGonagall appeared a second later, carrying its feet. Together, they heaved it onto a bed. "Get Madam Pomfrey," whispered Dumbledore, and Professor McGonagall hurried past the end of Harry's bed out of sight. Harry lay quite still, pretending to be asleep. He heard urgent voices, and then Professor McGonagall swept back into view, closely followed by Madam Pomfrey, who was pulling a cardigan on over her nightdress. He heard a sharp intake of breath. "What happened?" Madam Pomfrey whispered to Dumbledore, bending over the statue on the bed. "Another attack," said Dumbledore. "Minerva found him on the stairs." "There was a bunch of grapes next to him," said Professor McGonagall. "We think he was trying to sneak up here to visit Potter." Harry's stomach gave a horrible lurch. Slowly and carefully, he raised himself a few inches so he could look at the statue on the bed. A ray of moonlight lay across its staring face. It was Colin Creevey. His eyes were wide and his hands were stuck up in front of him, holding his camera. "Petrified?" whispered Madam Pomfrey. "Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "But I shudder to think... If Albus hadn't been on the way downstairs for hot chocolate - who knows what might have--" The three of them stared down at Colin. Then Dumbledore leaned forward and wrenched the camera out of Colin's rigid grip. "You don't think he managed to get a picture of his attacker?" said Professor McGonagall eagerly. Dumbledore didn't answer. He opened the back of the camera. "Good gracious!" said Madam Pomfrey. A jet of steam had hissed out of the camera. Harry, three beds away, caught the acrid smell of burnt plastic. "Melted," said Madam Pomfrey wonderingly. "All melted..." "What does this mean, Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked urgently. "It means," said Dumbledore, "that the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again." Madam Pomfrey clapped a hand to her mouth. Professor McGonagall stared at Dumbledore. "But, Albus... surely... who?" "The question is not who," said Dumbledore, his eyes on Colin. "The question is, how..." And from what Harry could see of Professor McGonagall's shadowy face, she didn't understand this any better than he did.