#i have been approved by the youngins

[absedarian]

I was at my mom’s birthday on the weekend and spent some time talking to my nephew and his gf. At some point, several phones in the room start ringing, and all three of us cringe.

Me: I haven’t had my phone on anything but silent in at least 15 years, possibly longer.

Nephew + gf: *nodding sagely*

Me: I don’t get how some people can stand to actually have it on sound, especially those sounds …

Nephew: *points over his shoulder to where his parents are sitting with a sad shake of his head*

Me: Well, we’re more or less the same age, so it can’t be that.

Nephew: Technically, and technologically, you’re about 20 years younger and cooler than them, so there’s that …

[qqueenofhades]

hello, it's youngin anon once again. i need advice and i have no one to ask, so i figured i could ask you. it's a lot and long, so if you don't want to answer, feel free to ignore.

idk how familiar you are with immigrant child guilt, but it weighs on me immensely. my parents work very hard and i can see the way they struggle. i remember when i was young we didn't even have a bed! me and my siblings slept on cushions. i've seen the insane hours my dad has worked so as to afford me and my siblings a better and more comfortable life. both of my parents have put in a lot of work to give us good opportunities, starting with their immigration to the US.

in nigerian culture, education is extremely important, so as i grew up, my parents have always told me to focus on my education, telling me not to work and it did pay off bc i did end up as valedictorian. college, however is presenting a new set of problems.

my dad, who i am financially dependent on (and who is paying the tuition for the state uni where i'm enrolled) has made it abundantly clear that he thinks med school is the only valid career path. i told him that my roommate was studying comms and he said that she could become a lawyer or something, before looking me dead in the eyes and that wasn't an option for me. with him, it's med school or bust.

as long as i could remember, my parents have been telling me i was going to become a doctor. every time i asked my dad to get me something, he say, i'll do it and in the future, you'll become a doctor, right? and i would agree and that was that. i've answered to all the adults who asked me that i was was going to med school and they would all give me smiles of approval. if i mentioned any other career growing up i'd be ruthlessly shot down or gently persuaded about how much more security there was in medicine.

i was aware in high school that i didn't really want to be a doctor so i sort of set myself up, enrolling under my college's science school so as to cut off my own retreat path. i figured that if i was able to bear it during high school, i could bear it during college. but i can see my own behavior and i know that i don't really like STEM. not that it's a bad field! i just don't have any interest in it. i read the textbooks to learn enough to pass the test and that's it. i don't interact with my classmates or the professors or the material beyond what's needed to get an A. this is in sharp contrast to my history classes which i have been enthralled with. I took a world history class in the first semester enjoyed it immensely. last semester i took a war and violence in africa class and LOVED it. it made me want to become an African historian/Africanist. i talk to my professors, enjoy the readings, the assignments, all the new info i'm getting on the continent where my family originates. i go to my history classes and i want to be there. i want to learn.

i don't know if i could survive academia as a profession because i've seen you posting about the struggles from working in academia and there was a large strike at my school last semester because professors weren't earning enough. if it were a perfect world or if i had lots of money i would love to get my Ph.D focusing on West African history and be a history professor, but it's not, so. i've been thinking about law school as a happy compromise. i could go to law school with a undergrad history degree and if i went to law school i could also pursue JD/MA in History. i'm trying out some law classes next semester to see how i like them.

i'm now scared that if i were to transfer to a different school in my college my scholarship might be reduced. i'm also afraid that i would lose my parents' financial support if i chose to pursue a different career path and i have no actual work experience.

and i understand my parents' very valid concerns! both of them grew up poor in Nigeria and it was their STEM educations that afforded them better lives. they don't want me to experience that level of crushing poverty that heavily defined their youth. my mom tells me about her younger brother in Nigeria who struggles to get work with his masters. my dad tells me about co-workers' children who can't get jobs in their field of profession and have to work whatever jobs come their way. from what i've seen on the news, the future job market looks bad for the young people (around the world!). millennials are having problems and my generation isn't set to do much better.

is it fair to my parents to just disregard that and pursue work in the humanities? i want to do what i want, to just live my life, but it feels like it's not just my life. it would feel so selfish to just risk that all. whenever i talk to my parents about their journey in the US i feel like i should just suck it all up and go to med school. if my parents could suffer all of that, who i am to complain? do my struggles compare?

i feel like my sense of pragmatism and idealism are warring against each other. I don't like STEM, I'm good at it, good enough to get good grades in the classes, but it's not something i enjoy doing, but there's more job security. i love history and the humanities as a whole, but i might struggle with employment.

i'm semi-familiar with the path i would need to take to become a doctor. i would have to make it into med school (high GPA, experience in science research/labs, shadowing healthcare professionals, good recommendations, etc.), survive med school, survive residency (during which residents are worked like dogs), complete fellowships, and then i would be able to practice independently. and that would probably occupy the majority of my time. people have told me that med school is hard even for people that like medicine. for me who is just tolerating it, can i do it? and what about any future patients? is it fair to them?

my mom has always said that i could just get my second degree in whatever i wanted after i became a doctor, but i don't know if i would have the mental strength/energy/free time to go back to school after med school. i feel like if i grit my teeth and bared it for all my twenties i would lose the drive to do it my thirties. it feels like i've been putting off my living my life for my entire life. in middle school i thought about high school, in high school about college, and in college about post-graduate life. i'm tired of this constant look towards the future, but it's the only thing i know how to do. my brain is constantly asking "okay, and then what?"

if i go to med school and realize that i really can't do it, then i'll be trapped. it'll be too much debt to walk away from, too many years of my life dedicated towards that end goal of becoming a doctor. i feel like if i'm going to change my future plans, i should do it before sooner rather than later. 19 isn't too late to walk back but 26 might be.

but it's not like pursuing a career closer to what i want would be easier.

there's always this big fear in the background of, what if i fail? what if i risk it all to go to law school and i don't make it in? or i end up in a low-paying law job saddled with hundreds of thousands in student debt? or even if i make it to biglaw, i still end up burned out from all the hours that they work? wouldn't i still be miserable? i'm not super familiar with how law school works but i've done some lurking around @artielu's blog and law seems like something i should also go into in only if i'm sure.

(i'm not. i'm not sure of anything really.)

it feels like no matter what i'm going to be unhappy in the future. maybe everyone feels this way, maybe a certain level of unhappiness is normal in adult life. it just makes me feel so frustrated because i'm struggling so hard for what? idk. i'm also so desperately scared. i'm scared that one day i'll wake up in the my forties/fifties and realize that i hate my life. maybe i'll look back on this and lament how spoiled/whiny i was. idk. idk.

i'm not looking for an answer to this dilemma, i know this is a decision i'll have to make for myself, but i would appreciate any advice or even words of encouragement. thank you.

Welp. Okay, first of all, I am giving you a big virtual hug and sitting you down at your coffeeshop of choice. So imagine us talking there.

Second, thanks for pouring out your heart to me about this and your various other comments and chats over the years. I only know you as one of my favorite (shh) Tumblr anons on the internet, but I have always seen how thoughtful, smart, and hard-working you are, and I don't take it lightly that you trust me to listen to you and to give you good advice. (Or uh, let's hope, at least not bad advice? Jury's out.) Likewise, I'm absolutely sure that immigrant-child guilt is something to which a lot of my followers can very much relate, and would be happy to talk with you about. So if you are one of said followers and you'd like to encourage anon to reach out to you, please drop a note in the replies! I can't speak to this from personal experience, but I'd love to help connect you to others in your situation. Because yes, it IS absolutely a universal struggle for first- or second-gen immigrant kids: balancing cultural expectations of parents, American opportunities, feeling guilty if you do what you want, etc etc.

Third, and this is just me talking: if you absolutely feel this way, then no, I don't think you should go to medical school. I realize that this is far easier said than done, but if you continue to feel this strongly about it, then... you shouldn't be expected to do it, and that's just something that everyone in your family will have to come to terms with. After all, your parents came to America so you could be raised as an American, and there would be multiple pathways to success -- not whatever just they themselves had to do in order to get here in the first place. I'm afraid that you'll eventually have to bite the bullet and have an honest talk with your parents about this, but it may help if you present this as both your own success and THEIR success. After all, you're smart, talented, you have so many options, and you'll clearly succeed at whatever you choose to do. And that means THEY did their job right: they worked hard, they raised you right, they brought you to a place where there ISN'T just one narrow pathway to having a fulfilling and prestigious career. It doesn't mean they "failed" to make you a doctor. It means they succeeded in making YOU, and opening up so many more things for you to do.

Obviously: that's going to be hard either way, your parents are probably going to be upset, and that's very tough to deal with, especially if you're a close family unit and if you're financially dependent on them. You're the only one who can choose when to have the conversation and what might come of it, but it's still something that you do have the right to do. If you want to research other aid options or scholarship packages, or reach out to financial aid/admissions officers at other schools to see what it might take to transfer (that is, if you need to transfer), that's your right to do. You're an adult now and you have the right to take legal and personal responsibility for your own life. If you know what you want to do and how you want to do it: then again, isn't that why your parents came here? Isn't that what they were working to achieve?

Yes, academia is hard. No, there's no guarantee of getting a job. But there isn't the guarantee of getting a job in medicine either, especially if it's something you're forcing yourself to do and which (as you note) would impact negatively on you, your colleagues, and the patients you would be expected to serve. Especially post-Covid and in the American healthcare system: being a doctor/nurse/healthcare professional SUCKS! Even if you like it and feel called to do it, it still sucks, and the only people earning a lot of money from it are the senior/career/specialist types (as is the case in every field). Of course your parents have expectations and dreams for you, but they also don't get the right to control/dictate your entire adult life just by virtue of deciding to bring you into the world. After all, they did that, and that means embracing you as a person with your own choices. (And this goes for all people with controlling/bossy parents, regardless of immigrant or non-immigrant background). So again: this is what they wanted for you, and you've paid that off already.

I absolutely feel the "I spend all my time thinking/worrying about the future and being scared that I'll end up wasting my life" thing, which I think is common to a lot of high-achieving smart people (we are terminal overthinkers to a one). I can tell you now that life has a way of surprising you, and when you get a little older, you start becoming more comfortable with yourself, your accomplishments, your talents, and knowing what you're good at. So I don't think you will find that you've wasted anything. Likewise, when it comes to studying for advanced degrees in history: do you think it might help with your parents if you agreed to pursue a name-brand school? It's still not guaranteed, but trust me, going to a place like Harvard or Yale makes it tremendously easier to get a job or a future opportunity just by virtue of having that name on your CV and the people you will meet, and I have no doubt that you would be able to get in. As well, I don't really think your parents could argue with you going to an Ivy League, or think that you weren't applying yourself.

Likewise, if there is anything I can do to support you in this, please feel free to message me privately/off anon. I will write a letter of recommendation for you, I will see if I know a person who knows a person, I will help look at application materials, so forth and etc. I mean it: I WILL help you in the real world if I possibly can. I'm sure you have tons of other enthusiastic recommenders, but still. Also, I will say that despite the current (terrible) academic job market, I have seen quite a few openings for professors of African history/African studies/African-American literature and culture, and that's just in the US. There are also lots of opportunities around the world.

Anyway: I hope that's helpful to start with. I am giving you all the hugs. Please reach out to me again (especially via private message) if I can help with this in more tangible ways. And likewise, if any of my followers would like anon to reach out to them: please make a note in the replies. We can do this together.

<3

[overwatch-does-stuff]

Hello I’m not sure if this is the kind of request you mean… but I love seeing your dad content about soldier it warms my heart. Is there anything you think of with him and Tracer as Father Daughter?

I love your writings… sorry if this isn’t the right requests.

It still pleases me to see that my Dad76 post is still getting reblogs and notes after all this time. I want everyone to know that I'm still super soft for Dad76 even with my recent hot take of him being an excellent antagonist lol. I'd be thrilled to write some headcanons for you!!

Of all the Overwatch youngins' back in the glory days, Lena was 100% Morrison's kid. Everyone knew it, including her (but except him. . .)

This primarily comes from the fact that Morrison handled the Slipstream incident personally after it happened.

He authorized the project, and didn't think much of giving it the stamp of approval. So much paperwork crossed his desk, and he's not a science man, so he tended to always approve of official projects like that, even the controversial ones (such as Project Echo).

What he did not catch was the probability of success, written in small print and much smaller than it shouldn't been. What he did not catch was the name and age of the proposed test pilot.

What he did not catch haunted him for the better portion of five years.

After the accident, after what he considered his mistake, he took the reins in giving pretty much unlimited funding to Winston's research to bring her back, even though all the signs at the time pointed to her never coming back or being stable ever again.

It's difficult for Lena to remember, but the second time she reappeared in Winston's prototype stabilization chamber, Morrison was there. She was sobbing. Winston was hesitant to let anyone into the chamber, fearing that her condition might transfer. . . but Morrison stepped in anyway, and gave her a hug before she disappeared from his arms.

(Ana gave him a stern talking-to afterwards. She agreed with him in principal but having Overwatch's lead strike commander disappear from time disassociation nonsense would not have been a good thing.)

After that, he mostly kept his distance. He greenlit even more funding for Winston to develop the chronal accelerator, even though Overwatch was already suffering from some funding issues. He said it was an obligation. He was right, but it was also so much more.

And when Lena received the accelerator, and all was said and done, Morrison personally informed her that it was her choice to stay with Overwatch if she wanted to, that she'd be given a full pension and benefits if she decided to return to civilian life. He was baffled when she said saluted him and expressed her resolution to become an agent.

(Would she have stayed if it was anyone other than Morrison? She's not sure, but he was certainly a big factor. To put it simply, he cared, and perhaps she was projecting a bit of her late father into his stern but gentle demeanor.)

Since her first mission during the London Uprising, the two only grew closer. When Morrison needed the perspective of an agent on the ground when it came to making new policies, he'd always come to her.

He also liked to check up on her welfare on occasion. This usually meant stopping by her quarters for a quick chat, and sometimes staying for a cup of tea.

(He doesn't like her tea- she brews it long, hot, and bitter, unlike Ana's usual blends, but he still drinks it. It's a great energy boost, at least.)

Lena took him to his first Pride parade since before the Omnic Crisis when she spotted the little pride flag hanging in his office during pride month. He was reluctant to go, worried about being recognized and mobbed in the crowd, so she created a genius foolproof disguise for him out of a hat, sunglasses, and leather pants. Slap on some makeup, and he was practically unrecognizable. . . and very fabulous.

He had so much fun during Pride that for the next week, Ana and Gabe were confused about his sudden lift in self-esteem.

Pride became a yearly tradition for Lena and Morrison until Overwatch fell apart.

(Which means that he has met Emily! He 100% approves, lol)

Random headcanon, but Morrison always gave her shoulder pats as a greeting.

And when Soldier 76 reaches his hand out to her shoulder, five years after Morrison was proclaimed dead, Lena pulls away, with a mixture of hurt and confusion written all over her face.

[blueunoia]

❤ ──── ·․ under watchful eyes

━━━   SYNOPSIS: the reader and arvin try to have some fun by the lake but find themselves under judgmental eyes. 

━━━  WARNINGS: semi-smut, dirty talk, heavy petting, fingering, oral (female receiving), public sex, Teagardin is a peeping tom, threats of violence, sexual harassment, harassment in general, and religious (Christianity) themes.

━━━  NOTES: No spoilers for the movie, fem reader. Arvin is by no means perfect, he is clearly traumatized from his childhood which causes anger issues at least and very mentally ill at worst. He did bad things in the movie and violence shouldn’t be used as an answer and I am not condoning his actions. I find the character interesting and I like so I wrote something but I am acknowledging his flaws. 

━━━  WORD COUNT: 2,410

━━━  PART(S): part two

✦·․  ──── ❤ ──── ·․·✦·․·✦·․ ──── ❤ ──── ·․·✦·․·✦·․  ❤ ․·✦·․·✦·․· ──── ❤ ──── ·․·✦·․·✦·․ ──── ❤ ────  ․·✦

       Arvin’s hands felt hot on your skin as he gripped your waist. The moonlight was shining through the window as he looks at your perfect breast. It was cold and dark outside, but inside his car; it was warm with foggy windows and both of you out of your breath from how much little air you had gotten in between kisses. You sat on top of his lap straddling him as your hands comb through his hair “Arvin...” you breathe with a smile on your face “Are you just going to look?”

        He can’t help but smile at your teasing voice, his eyes coming up to meet yours “I’m sorry, doll, you just look so good,” he says. You giggle and bring your swollen lips to his. His hands glide down the sides of your hiked up skirt and one dip onto your inner thigh, he brushes his fingers against your damp panties making you moan into his mouth. He pulls back a teasing smirk on his lips “Your so wet babydoll, you need me to touch you? All you gotta do is ask.”

        You brush your lips against his “Please baby, touch me? I need you...” almost immediately he flips you over onto your back and you squeal. Arvin lets out a laugh too as he breathlessly lay on top of you, his lips kiss your neck and he slides your skirt off of your legs playfully tossing it out the one cracked window. 

        You and Arvin don’t notice the sleek, grey car outside and the pastor watching you from afar. 

        “Hey!” you say shoving him slightly “That better not be dirty,” you pout. Arvin shakes his head and kisses down your neck to your stomach, it’s awkward but all he’s focused on is getting a taste of your delicious pussy. 

        He looks up at you when he presses a finger on your clit, the pressure making you moan “You were sayin’?” you glare, but it comes dull as your eyes beg for him to touch you more. Arvin pulls you down slightly so his mouth can better reach your cunt, and he delves his tongue into your folds. Your hands find his hair again pulling at the strand as he licks at you tasting your juices. Arvin has your legs over his shoulders and your feet press against the ceiling as your back arches at the pleasure. 

        Arvin removes one of his hands off of your hip, holding you up with his one, bringing the hand to your cunt and sliding in a finger. “Oh!” you moan making Arvin chuckle the vibrations hit your clitoris as he moves his lips to suck on your bud. He sucks and kisses your clit as he pumps his finger in and out, sliding another one inside of you. Arvin curls them up to reach that spot and you whine his name. You can feel the knot tightening inside of you as Arvin doesn’t relent, but it’s all ruined when a loud bang outside the car door makes both of you jump. Before you can turn your head to see what it is Arvin throws his jacket that was lying on the car floor over you. 

        “What the fuck?” he curses and glares out to the window. Finally seeing who it was, you cover yourself even more than your eyes, Reverend Teagardin. Arvin opens the door tossing you your blouse as he does “What the hell gives you the right to come to peek on us?” you can practically hear him stopping towards the reverend. 

        “Don’t swear at me boy!” he says angrily “I wasn’t peeking! The two of you did your sinful act out here, and I have to put a stop to it. The lord does not approve of this. Imagine what your parents would say, your grandmother would roll over in embarrassment,” the words came out like venom of the reverend's mouth, his eyes kept going back to you that frantically tried to remember where your skirt was. Bending down and picking it up “You looking for this girl?” he holds up your skirt as you nod hesitantly “You ought to be ashamed. Out here in public not only for the lord’s eyes to see but everyone else. Your mother raised you better than this-”

        “Don’t you try to sermon her!” Arvin growled “Your the adult man here terrorizing-”

        “Terrorizing? You listen here, boy...” their arguing faded out as you grabbed your skirt and hastily put it on. You could feel tears threatening to spill out at the humiliations as the thoughts in your head stirred until they were interrupted when you saw Arvin shove Reverend Teagardin. 

        “Don’t fucking say that about her! I’ll knock you on your ass I don’t care if you are a pastor.” 

        Quickly climbing out of the car, you ran around and grabbed Arvin's arm before he challenged the reverend, who was quickly coming back to fight back. “Arvin, let’s just go,” you begged.

        “Y/N get in the car,” he growled “I ain’t going to let this phony talk about you like your some kind of who-”

        “Please,”  you whispered, “I just want to go,” your voice trembled and Arvin turned to look at you. The anger in his face immediately fell when he saw your upset face. With a nod, he gently grabbed your arm to bring you back to the car and opening the door for you. Ignoring the threats coming from the reverend, Arvin got in the car and sped away. One of his hand sat on the skin of your leg starting off stroking your skin as to soothe you but as you calmed, his anger came back and he gripped you harshly. 

        Looking at him you could see his jaw was clutched completely, his lips pursed, and the skin on his knuckles had turned white from his grip on the steering wheel. You put a hand on his arm “Arvin, pull over.” He did so without a word and turned the key so that the car didn’t run. After sitting in silence for a few more minutes you spoke up again “Can we please talk?” 

        Arvin turned to meet your gaze and run a hand over his face before clearing his throat “Are you okay?” his voice was hoarse. 

        “Yeah, I’m okay,” you say with a small smile “Are you?”

        He scoffs “I wanna go back in kick his teeth in,” Arvin says through his teeth “But,” he looks at you “I won’t. I gotta get you home, don’t I?”

        You nod but stop him when he goes to start the car again instead of moving over to lay your head on his chest. “We’re already in trouble, might as well come up with a plan on what we’re gonna do when Reverend Teagardin tells my parents and your grandma about what we were doing,” you say holding onto his shirt “Or what we’re gonna do when everyone at school finds out.”          Arvin strokes your hair "Whatever happens, we got each other and you know I ain’t gonna let anyone run their mouth off to you. Including Teagardin," he looks down at you "I love you."         You nod with a smile "I love you too." After a few moments, the two of you separate and Arvin starts the car again, driving you home. He lets you keep his jack to fend off the cold and while he watches you walk up the hill to your door, he prays for the right time to come. 

        The next morning when you walk down the stairs dreading the fact you have to go to church, you wince when you see the harsh gaze of your mother. Her lips are pursed, and she breathes in her cigarette, tapping her foot, before puffing out smoke "Do you have any guesses on who called the house this morning?"         "Grandma?" you say hopefully.         Slapping her hand against the counter she comes towards you "Don't play dumb with me! Do you know what kind of mouthful I just got from Reverend Teagardin about those - those depraved acts with that Russell boy? You should be ashamed of this. Just a couple days here and what does he think of us? He thinks we raised some floozy!"         "Mom!" you screech "Arvin and I have been together for over a year what we do isn't any of yours or his business!"         "But it's the lords!" she says "And you know what he thinks about girls like that. Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free? And that Russell boy, you ain't seeing him anymore! You never would've done this before him, and I ain't going to let him corrupt you any more than he already has."         "He's my boyfriend you can't just-"         "No backtalk young lady. Now go get dressed for church. You're gonna pray harder than you ever have and after this, you're gonna apologize to Reverend Teagardin about your actions."

        Arvin's morning had gone no better. The reverend had called his house too and told his grandma all about what he was doing to you and how he tried to fight him, along with all the cursing. Grandma woke him up by throwing him out of the bed, and one thing led to another. The fight went from sinful behavior to him spouting - and I quote - "blasphemy". The car ride was silent. Arvin looked for you once he and his family arrived for church and frowned when he saw your mom glare at him before dragging you into the building. Reverend Teagardin standing by the door, watching. He ignored him as he walked into the church earrings a swat from his grandma. You gave him a small smile when he came in which he returned, not that you got to see it with your mom lecturing you in a quiet voice. 

        After everyone came in Reverend Teagardin came in to begin his sermon. He cleared his throat "Today, I wanted to talk about something that is plaguing society. Especially the youngins," he started "Eve in the garden. Noah, naked, the sinful acts that the devil makes tempt us. The acts that bring shame onto our families," he looks at you and Arvin. Arvin's gaze locked onto you as he watched you uncomfortably grab at your sleeves and shift in your sit. He felt the anger rise in him by the moment as the reverend kept talking. The reverend looked over the crowd "We mustn't fall to temptation regardless of what we think it is. It's all delusions. Some girl gets a feeling for a fella and lets him have her holy gift," Teagardin looks at you "And once we fall to sin. There isn't a way to come back unless we cleanse our bodies of it all. And only one thing can do it: the lord's love."         Arvin's foot tapped against the ground as the crowd cheers him, but you sit, hands sweaty and your gaze on the ground. He knows that your upset and he wants nothing more to walk over there and grab you, let you know that he was full of shit, that you had nothing to be ashamed about. But he couldn't. And when the service was finally over, your mom pulls you over to the reverend and his grandma grabbed his arm to stop him from going over. 

        "You have to take your sister to school and when it's done, you take her to the cemetery - and you stay in the car - and then you come straight home."

        Lenora practically had to pull Arvin out of the church as he was forced to leave you behind. The last thing he saw being the reverend hand being put on your back before he led you to the back of the church. Ready to consult you for your sins.         It was colder in Teagardins office. You clutched onto your cardigan as you sat down, his intent gaze staring through you. He sat up "Y/N, why don't we start simple?" he asked quietly. Leaning forward he gave you a reassuring smile "How long have you and that Russell boy been going out?"         "A little over a year," you say anxiously.         "That's a long time for someone as young as you. You know, teenage boys can be very demanding and I just want you to know-"         "That's not how it happened!" your tone sounds forced as you've tired from saying this "Why is it that everyone seems to think I'm some kind of victim in this? I wanted to have sex last night, Reverend. That was my choice. It wasn't just Arvin," you say fast as the reverend looks at you with no expression.          He leans back in his chair "When did the two of you start having sex?" he asks bluntly.         Looking anywhere but him you stutter out "A few months into our relationship, maybe. I don't know..."         "What did you do first?" he asks "Has he used your mouth before? Had his way with your body completely?"         Feeling practically naked under his gaze you squirm in your seat "Yes - I mean - I guess... I don't want to have this conversation," you try to stand up from your seat but he stands up and grabs you arm.          "You have to repent, your mother wants you too and I can help you," Reverend Teagardin says one of his hands go onto your leg "You have to show yourself to the Lord, Y/N, show yourself," his hand journeys up underneath your dress and you gasp. Pulling your arm away and running towards the door he grabs at you again.         "Get off of me!" you pull away heading outside. Ignoring the pleas of your mother you run as fast as you can trying to get away from the church. Your heart beats furiously and you don't know how far you run but the church is no longer in sight. Walking down the road you realize where you are, your back at the lake. You remember why you and Arvin picked this spot. He always said it helped him when he was deep in thought. So you go and you sit there thinking about what had just happened and then you heard a car. The rumbling of its engine and you can tell it's coming this way so you run off again, hiding behind the tree and peeking out. 

        Who could it be?

✦·․  ──── ❤ ──── ·․·✦·․·✦·․ ──── ❤ ──── ·․·✦·․·✦·․  ❤ ․·✦·․·✦·․· ──── ❤ ──── ·․·✦·․·✦·․ ──── ❤ ────  ․·✦

There is definitely a lot of grammatical errors in this but I’m happy with how it turned out, which for one, was pretty fucking long. Anyway, I watched TDATT and I just loved the performances and I love Tom Hollands character. I left it on a little cliffhanger there too. I don’t know, I wrote this in a couple hours so maybe I’ll do a part two.

Don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment!

━━━  MASTERLIST

[away-from-anthills]

chapter eight-

“You really think we can take on ThunderClan?”

Antstar could practically see Russetfoot’s hesitancy as the two toms sat on the rim of the hollow. “We’ll be taking them on with RiverClan.”

“Yes, but ThunderClan will have SkyClan with them, too.” Russetfoot, Antstar noted, had grown much more nervous now that he had his kits. There was still that trademark confidence of his, of course, but concern had balanced it. It had been a few days, now, and here they were- the night before the battle.

“I know we have to fight to keep RiverClan as an ally.” Russetfoot’s voice was careful, delicate; a butterfly landing upon a leaf. “And I have faith you know what you’re doing, Antstar. You’re my best friend besides my brother, anyway.”

Antstar felt uneasy as the tom carefully picked out his words.

“But I think- I think you should have handled this another way. We’re fighting for something we have no stake in, and- well, I don’t worry -that- much about our warriors, but I can’t say we’re the most formidable.” He clenched his teeth. “Especially against anything Tatteredstar is leading.”

“We’ll be fine, Russetfoot.”

Russetfoot, however, wasn’t convinced. “It’s already a stressful time, Antstar. Leaf-fall will soon begin, and with that will come cold and hunger. And with my seven kits, and Cherrycloud’s five…”

“I know. We’re all stressed.”

The last blue hues of dusk slipped away beneath the horizon.

“I pray to StarClan, you’ve made the right choice.”

Perhaps a walk could clear Antstar’s mind from impending battle.

The night was crisp, as the end of summer was. The cricket songs had slowly begun to quiet down, day by day, and already the grasses were turning yellow and the leaves a bold ginger. He remembered Shalestar had always liked this time of year the most. The old tom had told him, when he was an apprentice, that this kind of weather during this season gave him the energy to travel the length of the forest, and promised him something was always around the corner.

How he wished he felt that way…

The gorge made his belly churn, now, so he headed the other way, through the territories. He saw Stoatslink in the distance, hunting with his daughters. Antstar recalled their conversation from a few nights prior: Stoatslink was certain a non-Clan cat was threatening WindClan, and had been the one to kill Sparkthistle. Antstar and Stoatslink had never quite seen eye-to-eye, and something about the white tom had always been unnerving to him… but he had to hand it to him. Stoatslink was the only one who was right about it.

Antstar hoped he would abandon his case, however…

He continued to wander out of WindClan territory and up north. He could see Mothermouth on the other side of the Thunderpath, the flowers around it beginning to curl up and brown with the change of seasons. It was pitch-black, without a trace of the bright, glittering quartz that its path led to.

It looked, Antstar thought, like a predator’s maw, waiting to strike and snap shut.

He looked down the path of the Thunderpath before him. He could see a Twolegplace on the horizon, and the path seemed to stretch out forever and ever. What worlds lay beyond White Hart Woods? What would greet him, if he ran?

He was scared by just how much he felt his mind wander to the idea. Running away, never looking back. Leaving the world behind him. Russetfoot would be a good leader in his stead. They’d never find out about Sparkthistle- and if they did, it would be of no consequence to him. Perhaps some would miss him, especially Spiderfoot; but the world would spin without him, just as it always had, and he’d be dismissed as little more than a fluke who walked upon WindClan and was gone.

No- he couldn’t do that. He had his obligations. And, moreover, he was scared of what lay beyond all he could ever remember. He knew he had been there once, before they found him in the fields when he was a kit. But he couldn’t remember it well. On one hand- perhaps his birth family was out there, or other kindly cats; perhaps a nice Twoleg would take him in. But on the other hand, there might be none of the stability that the Clan provided. No medicine, no organization, no kindness in his fellow Clanmates. There might be pain, torment.

The thought that scared Antstar the most, however, was the idea that he’d escape, run free- and find that there was absolutely nothing out there. Not good, not bad. Just… nothing at all. And it would turn out the Clans were all that ever was…

He was pried out of his thoughts, however, when he saw a red tabby sprint by.

Russetfoot? He thought initially, but upon closer inspection he realized the cat couldn’t be him. While they were both dark red tabbies with emerald eyes, this tom had a more smudged pelt and a boxy shape, while Russetfoot was a slim, compact cat with clear-cut stripes the shape of fishbones.

No, realized Antstar- this was Currantstar!

He followed the tom throughout WindClan territory, steady and silent. He looked like he was in a hurry, and a bit nervous about whatever he was doing. Antstar had never seen him this way, sprinting through the dark, like a deer afraid that- at any moment- the dusty path below him might turn into pavement and he may be greeted with his downfall.

But as soon as Antstar could ask any questions, the tom took a sharp left turn into RiverClan territory, past the gorge and over the bridge. The tom’s figure grew darker as he ran, as dark as the shadows of the trees and stones, and soon Antstar could not tell which shadow was which.

Strange.

But Antstar didn’t want to ask further- two Clans against him were already enough.

The next morning came too soon and yet it felt like it had taken forever.

Russetfoot was busy gathering the warriors and apprentices. The elders and queens, of course, were staying behind to defend the camp in case anything wicked arose. The dawn was perfect- a tad too perfect, perhaps, with clouds running like honey towards the sun, nearly viscous, their milky haze yellowing the light. The grass was so soaked with dew that it clung to the dawn patrol’s coats.

“Are you sure you want to come with us, and not stay here with the elders, Sandwhisker?” Antstar overheard Russetfoot ask. The pale, thin molly was making her way into the crowd of warriors alongside more formidable warriors like Toadpool and Coalclaw.

“Of course,” she said, almost too defensively. “You’re concerned I’m going to hurt myself or die somehow, aren’t ya, youngin’?”

Russetfoot nodded. “You’re the same age as the elders. You should-“

“Don’t tell me what to do. If I die out there- which won’t happen- at least I’ll die in an important way.” The dawn’s light seemed to take away some of her age with its softness, but even then Antstar could tell the molly was too old for fighting. Her eyes were rheumy with fluid to the point she had grown two brown tear streaks, and her flank had long lost its sheen. She looked like a ragged lion pelt- thin, worn; yet still reeking of greatness.

But if Russetfoot could not change her mind, there was no way in Hell Antstar was going to.

A dark gray tabby slipped past him. It was Spiderfoot, making her way to the front of the crowd of warriors. She looked back at Antstar for a moment, her eyes filled with trust and admiration.

“Are you sure this whole fight is a good idea?” asked her brother. Coalclaw, despite being one of the largest cats in WindClan, was fidgeting in place, his eyes cast to the dusty ground below them.

“Antstar wouldn’t have made it so if it wasn’t a good idea,” responded Spiderfoot triumphantly. Her voice had a trumpeting quality in it. Antstar took faith in her- perhaps she could see the chiseled truths in Antstar’s decisions that he could not.

The elders, however, weren’t as certain about it.

“I know you said that this would be a good place to be, Audrey,” said Shrike, one of the two loners Antstar had accepted into the Clan, “but we haven’t been here a month and he’s already sending them away to battle against cats they don’t even know well.” “It’s fine, Shrike. It’s a border dispute. We had to deal with those when we were out traveling around.”

“I know. But something about the guy rubs me the wrong way.” The scarred black-and-white molly narrowed her dark brown eyes.

“Oh, Antstar’s doing his best.” Silverbelly got up and sat next to Shrike, punctuating his sentence with a sleepy yawn. “All leaders are a bit jittery like this at the start. They grow into their stride.” He smiled mischievously- he was old and had grown plump with age now, but the young, wild warrior that once was showed through. “And personally, I’ll support anything that’ll give that lump of rat-crap Pigeonstar a piece of mind.” He laughed, stifling his chuckles so as to not wake up Crowflower, who was dozing behind him.

Talonscar, the old brown tabby with ragged ears in the back, made no conversation despite being very much awake. But there was something about their olive-eyed glare that made Antstar immediately know they didn’t approve of his plan.

But it was nothing Antstar had the space to think about now. Russetfoot was already through the gorse-flower tunnel, and Spiderfoot, Coalclaw, and Juniperfang were just behind him. Even Whitetooth and Marblepaw had joined the crowd, Marblepaw carrying a little sack made from woven leaves that held all sorts of wound-tending herbs. What was done was done.

They got there at about the same time RiverClan did.

“I’m glad to see you here,” said Tulipstar, her tail gently flowing from side to side. The RiverClan cats, freshly joined by their WindClan allies, sat at the edge of the river, as close as they possibly could be to the prized territory. Redfeather’s snout jutted out as she leaned in to get a good look, just nearly keeping herself balanced so she didn’t slip and fall. Smokebark was steely-eyed as ever as he got a drink from the riverbank, his weary yellow gaze focused solely on the ThunderClan cats who lay on the pale, smooth stones ahead.

Something bumped into Antstar, and he wheeled around to see a small fawn tabby; an unusually meek-looking RiverClan specimen. “Oh,” said the tabby, “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s fine,” assured Antstar.

“Oh, that’s just Oatwhisker,” said Tulipstar. “This is his first battle as a warrior. He’s quite nervous about it. Always worrying about something…”

“Oh, it’s my apprentice’s first battle as a warrior too.” Antstar stepped back proudly before realizing he had to correct himself. “Former apprentice, I mean.”

“Spiderfoot, right?”

Antstar nodded.

“I’ve seen her on the border when I go on walks. She’s a wily one.”

“I’m certainly aware of it.” Antstar had almost forgotten there was a battle to be held that day when the air grew deathly still.

Tatteredstar, sitting at the top of the tallest of Sunningrocks, had arrived.

She stared down at Tulipstar from across the river. There was a certain pity in those cold yellow eyes- as if she was giving Tulipstar an exit, knowing that she would never take it.

Tulipstar, unfettered as ever, stared back.

Tulipstar gave the nod to Antstar, and she slipped into the river. One by one, RiverClan warriors jumped in. There was none of the usual raucous splashing- only serious silence as each cat waded through the waters.

Then, WindClan jumped in, more noisily- first Rockscratch and Russetfoot, then Spiderfoot, then Toadpool, then Whitetooth and an especially hesitant Marblepaw… Antstar gathered in him the courage and jumped in, trying to keep his body streamlined with the water’s crisp surface to mimic the silent dives of the RiverClan cats.

He looked ahead, trying to keep his head up and even. He could see a small brown-and-white molly with a hairless, black, shriveled back leg leap up beside Tatteredstar. Tatteredstar uttered a command into the patched molly’s ear, and she limped away, onto ThunderClan’s side of the riverbank and into the fronds.

Hopscratch, Antstar realized- that was Hopscratch, Pigeonstar’s deputy. She must have gone to retrieve them.

What else could he see, from here? It was hard to make out any of the cats low on the rocks, given the angle he was at and the cats in front of him. There were two identical black toms, a tabby with a scar that stretched across the right side of his face down to his belly, a dark gray tabby molly with stripes that swirled around her like river currents, a white tom with ginger markings on his face and legs that reminded Antstar of his own… All of them massive, muscly, and far larger than he.

What had he gotten his Clan into?

He had no time to answer this, however, as a wicked screech erupted from the shore. The first clash of the battle. He could make out a tortoiseshell molly attacking a massive, blue-and-white tom.

He couldn’t quite place the name of the blue-and-white ThunderClan cat, but he knew the tortoiseshell was Mossfang. She moved like a firework, dazzling him as she ran about him, before she suddenly grabbed as his throat and pulled him to the earth in one ragged motion. The tom snarled with anger and slashed her across the face, ripping open a scab on her lip, but after a moment of pain-induced hesitation she bit down on his neck hard.

More cats joined in. Now WindClan was getting onto the surface.

Chaos soon erupted throughout the rocks. Antstar had tried to give his Clan orders, but they had for the most part devolved into cacophonic violence. Russetfoot leapt up and over him as he chased down a cream-colored molly, who wheeled around suddenly and slammed the russet tom into one of the rocks. Lilystone and Juniperfang, behind him, were tag-team attacking a black-and-white molly.

Something collided into Antstar. He looked up to see the white flame-pointed tom from earlier pinning him down, who had 3 scraggly scars across his left eye. There was a moment where the two said nothing and did nothing, and then Antstar felt fear yank his left paw as he slashed the tom’s nose open.

The tom moved with the blow as Antstar’s claws raked across him. Then, as soon as it was over, he gave a shrieky hiss, revealing to Antstar his drooling maw and sharp teeth- of which he had way more than Antstar felt comfortable with.

The ton clamped down on Antstar’s chest and began to pull, trying to rip Antstar’s skin off of his body. Antstar fought back the urge to jolt and instead grabbed the back of the tom’s head, yanking him in to bite down on his nose. The tom let go, and Antstar wriggled himself free, running to the shore to outrun his attacker.

But the flame-pointed tom was vigilant. His nose was now shredded open and red as a robin’s breast from Antstar’s claws and teeth, and his ice-blue eyes held a shark-like fury. The tom rushed over and used his body weight to slam Antstar into the water. Antstar leapt back up to rip and tear at the tom’s shoulder, back and forth, and soon the two fought further and further into the water, becoming a mess of claw swipes and thrashes and white crashing water, and Antstar lost himself in the mixture of terror and fury only close combat can bring.

And then- suddenly- a thin, triangular blue figure leapt out and slammed the flame-point ThunderClan cat into the water, grabbing on like a burr. Another figure- a thin, scrappy black tom- arrived, and the two held the pale ThunderClan cat under until he rose to the surface, gasped for air, and ran off. The water was red where he had been held under- his nose was now shredded completely open, the bridge of it nearly gone.

“Anything for our leader,” said the blue-gray-and-white tom as he lifted himself out of the water. The black tom behind him nodded in agreement.

“Thanks, Toadpool and Molethroat,” said Antstar, gasping for air- not because water had entered his lungs, but because it felt like adrenaline was gripping his throat. He could feel deep gashes in his flank, but the reality of it had not struck him yet because of the rush of fighting hormones that flowed in him. He ran to shore, clambering up one of the Sunningrocks to get a good vantage point.

He could see SkyClan had joined the battle, now- Pigeonstar was going at it with Willownose, a RiverClan warrior. Twigpaw was tussling with a tortoiseshell SkyClan apprentice. He heard a squeak behind him- a small ginger apprentice, who had to be the tortoiseshell’s brother, approached him.

“Don’t fight leaders until you can handle it,” said Antstar, trying to push him aside. But the ginger apprentice only spat in his ear.

“I can take on anyone I want!” Antstar picked up the tom and pushed him off the rocks, where he fell in the waters below. The little ginger apprentice, mostly unharmed except for a bruised shoulder and an even more bruised ego, ran off, muttering curses to himself.

Now that that was taken care of, he looked closer. There she was. Tatteredstar was in the middle of a fight with a lynx-pointed RiverClan tom. He clearly thought highly of himself, from the way his coat was excessively groomed to the way he held himself. He had to think highly of himself if he thought he could take the ThunderClan leader on. But she was no match for him. She picked up the tom and threw him, leaping after him as she did so she followed him through the air. Turning herself around, she latched onto the RiverClan tom and slammed him into the ground. Her body weight alone was enough- the RiverClan tom got up, shakily, almost as if he’d been punctured inward. It had all happened in the blink of an eye, in one smooth motion.

He had never seen Tatteredstar up close like this. And this was when he realized- war was not only what defined Tatteredstar. She had made it- whether she liked it or not- into art.

A yowl caught his attention, and he turned to see Oatwhisker, the tabby from before, confronted by two much larger black ThunderClan toms. Antstar headed down- the RiverClan cat was practically shaking in his paws.

“You think you can take Sunningrocks?” one of the black toms, who had a broader head and amber eyes, boasted. “Dumbass RiverClan cats and their dumbass ideas!” laughed the other, who was more square-jawed with lime green eyes. “This little clown really thought he could take us on, now, didn’t he?” “You were- you were-“ Oatwhisker stuttered. “You were going after the leader.”

“’Oh, you were going after the leader!’” mocked the amber-eyed tom in a cartoonishly whiny voice.

“She has nine lives!” The two pushed the smaller RiverClan tom into the ground, cackling. Oatwhisker simply whimpered with pain as the two slammed into him over and over.

“Hey!” Said Antstar, running in and trying to push one of the toms off of the RiverClan cat.

“Oh, here comes another leader now,” giggled the green-eyed tom with delight. The two black toms abandoned their prey and circled Antstar.

“I’m Weevilclaw,” introduced the amber-eyed one.

“And I’m Beetleclaw.”

“We’re the best battlers in the forest! ‘Cept for Tatteredstar.”

“Come on, rabbit-breath. Give it a try.”

Antstar leaned in to attack Weevilclaw, but Weevilclaw leapt forward and pushed him. Beetleclaw grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, and soon Weevilclaw was pushing Antstar around on the floor. Antstar tried to get up, but Beetleclaw body-slammed him. He felt something in his rib crack, and a sharp pain erupted from the spot.

Again he tried to get up, again one of the two black cats pushed him down. The brothers were nearly identical, save for their facial shapes and eyes- two big toms built like bricks with wooly black fur and frankly annoying laughs.

“Hey!” yelled a sharp baritone. The two toms stood to their feet. Antstar got up slowly, now that the two were distracted. Oatwhisker was nowhere- he had to have run off when the two were initially distracted by Antstar.

Antstar turned to see who had saved him. It was the gray-and-white ThunderClan tom from earlier, the same one who had initiated the battle with Mossfang.

“You two idiots get off of the WindClan leader and listen to me. We have something important to do.” A cream-colored ThunderClan molly slunk up beside them, and the four cats began to whisper among themselves. Antstar ran off, bent over as his ribs continued to throb with pain.

He stepped in something wet and looked to see a pool of blood at his feet. He followed the trail of blood to see a broken, crumpled silver tabby figure- angular and muscular, like any good SkyClan cat, but warped beyond repair by battle. It was clear he had been dead for some time.

A pang of sadness hit Antstar, although he had never known the tom. It was Bumbleshade- the very same cat who had just been made a warrior a little more than a moon ago. All that promise, all that hope, gone in an instant…

Another cat slammed into him from behind, and he started clawing back, yowling at the attacker- this time a spotted calico SkyClan cat. He could hear the battle around him slowly turn from the yowls of anger and passion into yowls of desperation and horror. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Stoatslink, Webwhisker, Smokebark, and Goldenpaw take on a horde of SkyClanners. Suddenly, one of them leapt out and slammed Goldenpaw into a nearby stone, and he heard Stoatslink cry out in panic before his attention was redirected to the calico before him. She was quick, but he was faster. He punched her under the jaw, sending her back, and ran off, darting this way and that through the crowd to avoid her.

He stumbled upon a dead black figure- another ThunderClan cat, but not either of the two he had seen earlier. No, this one had a sleeker, squirrel-like look to him, with tufted ears. A little ginger tom- perhaps the smallest ThunderClan apprentice- sat next to the tom’s bloodied breast, whimpering and crying, folding into himself.

Antstar wanted to do something. But he couldn’t. For ThunderClan was an enemy…

“Move it, will you?” It was the grey and white tom from before and the others he had recruited. The grey tom kicked at the ginger apprentice’s side, and the little apprentice- who had a deep cut across his eyebrow that was bleeding down his face- looked up at him with fear. “Sorry, Cloudclaw,” he mumbled apologetically, as if he had forgotten to speak.

But Cloudclaw was unmoved, simply waiting for the ginger tom to pick himself up before continuing on his path. The ginger apprentice, swaying side to side like he was about to vomit, followed wordlessly.

“Antstar! On your left!” He saw Russetfoot gesture to something behind him. He turned to see the speckled calico from before, and again the two whirled into combat. Faster and faster the two thought, on top of and over and around each other.

“TRUFFLEPELT!” he heard someone scream. He looked above to the tallest stone in Sunningrocks, where a flame-pointed tom with a shredded nose- the same one that had attacked him- was barreling towards the RiverClan deputy. Trufflepelt tried to get out of the way, but it was too late. The flame-pointed tom extended his claws, and then, and then-

His head was pushed into the earth by the calico molly before he could see what happened, but the sickening ripping sound and the spine-curling shriek that went with it told him all he needed to know.

There was a ripple of fury- enough to distract the SkyClan calico. He evaded her grasp and pinned her down, grabbing at her throat to keep her still. She worked harder and harder to escape him. A flurry of RiverClan cats- nearly all the ones he could recognize- swarmed the flame-point tom, who had leapt into the waters below.

The calico suddenly grabbed at his throat and bit. He pulled back, and felt her tear open a wound in his neck. She pulled back, her mouth lined with his fur and blood, coughing, but as soon as she had she leapt back in for more. He bit down on her neck and pried himself up, holding her in place- she responded by flipping him over. Left swipe, right swipe, uppercut-back. Left swipe, right swipe, uppercut-back. She leapt at him; he ran underneath her and watched her barrel to the side. He tried to run, but she was too quick. Back and forth the two went- left swipe, right swipe, left swipe, right swipe. He managed to rake open a gash on her cheek, and she jumped away in pain.

He looked to where the RiverClan cats had swarmed. They were pulling away, now. What remained of the flame-pointed tom could barely be identified as a cat.

He ran, knowing the calico was still after him. He nearly tripped on something, and turned over to see what it was. He recognized the pale figure on the ground below him immediately. His heart began to twist in place and turn black with grief.

Sandwhisker.

But before he could focus on her body for too long, he heard commotion behind him, and turned to see Cloudclaw and his group circling Pebblesky, the RiverClan medicine cat. Only now that the two were close could Antstar see that Cloudclaw resembled a short-furred, more muscular Pebblesky.

“You traitor,” snarled Cloudclaw.

Her herbs were already tossed about and rendered useless- clearly the ThunderClan cats had attacked those already. She looked around, trying to escape, but there was no sign of urgency- only pain as she gazed at Cloudclaw and the cream-colored molly, who were both bristling at the sight of her.

“Please let me leave,” she urged them. “You’ve done enough leaving already,” snapped the cream molly, her tongue spitting out the words as if they were venom. “I’m ashamed that I have to live with the knowledge my mother left me to prance about in RiverClan!”

Cloudclaw roared with anger and leapt at her. She did not fight back, letting him kick her around. The cream molly was about to join in when suddenly a red-and-white molly- Emberblaze, ThunderClan’s medicine cat- barged through.

“You don’t treat our mother this way!”

More figures slid in to fight off the group- this time being Whitetooth and Honeyfur, with Marblepaw close behind. Together, the medicine cats fought off the two. Beetleclaw and Weevilclaw, who had initially been on the two ThunderClan siblings’ side, slipped away as soon as they recognized the towering ThunderClan molly over them.

“Cloudclaw.”

Cloudclaw looked like a terrified kit as he turned to see Tatteredstar standing there. The cream molly tried to get up and leave, but before she could Tatteredstar called her name as well:

“Daffodilfur.”

The two stood pathetically in front of her. The medicine cats had all left, save for Emberblaze, who stood at her leader’s flank.

“You don’t attack a medicine cat. I thought I made this clear to you two.” She snarled with fury. “Expect punishment when the battle is over with.” The two cats, still shaking with fear, ran off in different directions, tails between legs.

Antstar heard a yowl and turned. It was the SkyClan calico- now with several other SkyClan cats. The group barreled after him, and Antstar began to attack- but he felt light-headed and woozy. Was it the fear of battle? Or had his wounds gotten to him?

Left swipe, right swipe, uppercut back. Left swipe, right swipe, uppercut…

He began to black out. Something harsh ripped at his belly.

Left swipe, right swipe….

Everything began to dissolve into syrup, it felt. He felt something attacking him, but he could not tell what SkyClan cat it was….

Left swipe… left…

He awoke with a jolt.

The StarClan cat- someone he did not know, someone that smelled of harshness and cold and not the warm WindClan scent he had felt from old friends at his nine lives ceremony- had told him that that was his first life spent.

The SkyClan cats had all dispersed. He could tell the battle was winding down.

“You alright?” asked Toadpool, who walked up behind him.

“…Yeah.”

“Alright.” Toadpool cantered off, hearing a cry of a RiverClan cat.

Antstar looked ahead. There stood a terrified-looking blue SkyClan tabby, with wide yellow eyes… and a chest coated in Antstar’s blood.

Suddenly, Antstar felt white-hot anger bubble up into his throat. This cat couldn’t be very old. And yet- and yet, they had the audacity to take away a WindClan leader’s life? Even though their clan had nothing to do with WindClan at the moment? Despite everything? Despite all the war waged, all the cats who it would make sense to attack…

“Coalclaw!” Antstar snarled, sighting the charcoal-colored tabby. He nudged his nose at the SkyClan cat. “Get him! NOW!”

The blue-gray tabby tried to run, but Coalclaw caught him in one leap. He grabbed onto the cat’s neck, and then looked at his leader for orders.

“Should I keep him here, or-“ “He took my life. He’s a danger. I don’t care what it takes, get him out of my sight!”

Antstar regretted the words as soon as they had flung out of his mouth. He almost tried to take them back, but he didn’t have the courage to. Coalclaw’s teeth were deeply embedded into the blue-gray tabby’s neck, and they clamped down harder and harder for what felt like hours. Coalclaw looked as though he were in great terror doing it, as if he was clamping down onto his own throat. A horrible, dark crimson pool erupted from the blue-gray cat’s throat and mouth.

Coalclaw let go, nearly stumbling on himself. The blue-gray tom stumbled, and the blood didn’t stop pouring, only getting faster and faster as it slunk down the sloped ground…

At last, the tom gave out at his ankles, and fell to the ground. There was a crowd gathering, now. Antstar felt more nauseous than ever, almost wanting to slip into the river and escape from it all.

The battle was at standstill as a horrible scream- worse than even Trufflepelt’s dying caterwaul- echoed throughout the air. Antstar had never heard anything like it. The sound was pain personified.

He turned to see what it was.

And there stood Pigeonstar.

Pigeonstar was covered in scratches from the battle, but it seemed like all his physical pain left him as he ran to the tom’s body. He was in shock, prodding at the body and trying desperately to find a sign of life.

And then it hit Antstar like a boulder from the sky. The same blue-gray pelt. The same angular figure. The same diamond-shaped face, the same pale underbelly.

Pigeonstar’s son.

At once, the SkyClan leader looked like he lost all the tension in his body. He collaped on top of his son, sobbing with grief, quieter than any cat ever knew him to be.

Then, after eternity and a day, he stood up slowly and shakily. The body before him remained still.

“I think he’s waking up,” he said deliriously, wild grief turning to wild, desperate hope. “He has to be! See, the chest is moving! He’ll wake up any moment now. He has to be! Someone!” His face flickered through a thousand emotions. “Someone get a medicine cat! Please! They’ll show you! They’ll show you all!” He lay on the body, rocking back and forth, his eyes blank. “StarClan wouldn’t let him die, you know. They have to know my children are my greatest joy. They have to!...”

He looked right at Antstar. He had been robbed away by grief. All that was left was desperate madness, desperate denial.

“He has to be asleep. He’d sleep like this when he was a kit. Just him and I. He was always the one that was closest to me, my little runt of the litter.”

Honeyfur entered the little clearing in the crowd where Pigeonstar and the body lay, gently, his face wracked with horror as he already knew what he had to tell his leader. He went over to check the body, laying a paw on the tom’s crushed throat.

“See?” said Pigeonstar, still feverish from denial. “He’s just asleep, right?”

“Stoneclaw is dead,” said Honeyfur matter-of-factly.

Pigeonstar jumped up, convulsing, eyes wide.

“His neck was crushed. The wound is very deep; I doubt we could have saved him. He died from a mixture of blood loss and suffocation.”

He was cut off by a wild scream of agony from Pigeonstar, who buried his face into the body.

There was dead silence.

After another eternity, however, Pigeonstar slowly got up, shaking. His back was turned to Antstar, and Antstar suddenly felt something horrible stick to the back of his throat.

“YOU!” Pigeonstar turned around, staring Antstar dead on. Antstar realized, then, that he had been a fool when he had thought about Pigeonstar. Pigeonstar wasn’t always angry. Annoyed? Mean? Yes. But only now- only now as he stared on this wild apparition, this thing that was no longer a cat but a parent’s grief possessing flesh- only now, he realized, was he dealing with a truly furious Pigeonstar.

“YOU KILLED HIM!”

In a flash, Pigeonstar leapt towards Antstar. But Honeyfur and a brown SkyClan warrior caught him before he could make contact, pulling him away, away from the clearing.

“HE KILLED MY BABY! HE KILLED MY BABY!” he sobbed wildly.

As they pulled him away, he tried to push back, his paws reaching out- but nobody could tell if he was after Antstar, or after his dead son.

“I- I didn’t mean…” Coalclaw had stood in place the entire time, his eyes wide and his knees buckling from guilt. “I- I never meant to kill…”

“Battle’s over,” said Tatteredstar, interrupting. Antstar looked around. The dead- Bumbleshade, Sandwhisker, Trufflepelt, what remained of the flame-point tom, the black ThunderClan cat, Stoneclaw, and a red RiverClan molly Antstar only now realized had been killed with a pang of grief- Redfeather- were all being inspected by their respective medicine cats, already being prepared to be taken back to their camps and buried.

Tatteredstar flicked her tail and turned towards ThunderClan territory.

“Sunningrocks is theirs, now. Battle’s over.”

[itburnedlikesummer]

Obligatory Birthday Post/Looking Back and Forward

My birthday gift to myself as I enter my 31st year of life is to not let myself feel like a second choice anymore. I should not feel the need to apologize for the fact that I’ve been so busy because I work 45+ hours a week, and I should not allow myself to wallow in the feelings that people are simply humoring me instead of genuinely enjoying my presence. 

This last year has been a ride. The amount of things that have happened/changed is intense, but overall (like 95%) has been positive and I will forever be grateful that Travis pulled me out of Maine and convinced me to move to Philadelphia. 

When I woke up on my birthday last year, we had our approval letter for this apartment -- the same apartment that we are leaving at the end of June to move into a smaller, more affordable, one bedroom. This place has become home, and daily I am amazed by the dazzling sunsets and the beauty of the neighborhood we’ve found ourselves in. I love being able to walk to work, even if it takes me nearly 20 minutes to walk just down the hill, versus 20 minutes got me damn near across town in Biddeford lol

Travis and I are officially five years strong, and while I know there’s no engagement on the horizon (he never wants to get married, and I’m okay with that), we have discussed what we want in a future condo and started looking at what some in the area are going for. It’ll be another 3-4 years until we can afford to do so, as I work to pay off my massive dental bill, but it is a future goal and one I’m looking forward to us doing together.

I was always worried about working at a daycare because I’d heard a lot of the ones in Maine were clique-y and while I had the schooling and the personality that make for a decent teacher, co-workers aren’t always the best in places. I lucked the heck out with my current place of employment -- aside from a few youngin’s (18-21) that have no real desire to do anything except play on their phones we have a good staff and my Director is accommodating and very nice. And our Secretary is absolutely amazing and always willing to let me vent about rough days and surprised me yesterday with a slice of cake and a new hair clip (because I wear my hair up every day).

My kids, while absolutely insane most days (as any class of 2 year olds would be) are the highlights of my days. To the point that I am even babysitting one of them today lol

Looking forward, I’m excited about seeing my dad on Thursday. I’m excited but anxious about moving all of our stuff from our 2 bed, 2 bath into a 1 bed, 1 bath (Jared is taking his stuff home, obvi, so it should be doable). And I’m looking forward to continuing at my job and maybe getting to an Eagles game later this year and definitely to some more Union games with Travis. Even if I’m still not big into sports, the look on his face and the enjoyment he gets from it is enough for me to enjoy it too. x3 Maybe we’ll even get to an attraction or two in the city, that would be really nice.

The biggest point is the promise to myself: I will not let myself spend time sitting there and wondering why I’m not good enough, or why people who used to actively reach out when I went into a depressive state seem to no longer care. I am taking care of myself, and my family, and hopefully finding a little bit of time to write with someone somewhere in all that. But I’m not letting myself stay somewhere I’m not wanted anymore. I’m too old for that shit.

Here’s to 31, hoping it’s (somehow) even better than 30 was x3

[devizakura]

Skimble right back at you for the ship ask :3c

Oh you spoil me, friend :3

OTP: *gestures at entire blog* You know

Brotp: Skimblegus and Skimblebomb are biiiig ones, they make me SO happy. In the right hands, I also enjoy both ships romantically, especially since I already see the first pair as co-parenting Tumble, and the latter - as being Electra's parents in some productions.

Mehtp: romantic Skimblestrap. While I like the idea of Dad², my heart is just not in it no matter what

NOTP: Skimbledots. We been knew

Rarepair: Aside from Skimblebomb and previously mentioned Warsaw Jellyshanks - I do love Tuggershanks. As a guilty pleasure ship. I can't imagine them being in an actual relationship, but you know that kinda trope where two people fight a lot and there's a lot of tension, which along the way turns sexual and makes them "accidentally" hook up one night? And then perhaps continue having secret hookups? Yeah.... that. I also love their dynamic and I do see Skimble as someone who, in a way, admires Tugger even though he will never admit it - he wants to be "hip with the kids" and Tugger is just so effortlessly cool and loved by the youngins that Skimble yearns for his approval even though he scoffs at Tugger's chaotic behavior. On the other side, Tugger knows that Skimble has a hidden weakness for him and finds messing with him very entertaining. They have a mutual understanding that allows them to push each other's boundaries without crossing them, even if Tugger seems outright mean to Skimble sometimes.

Okay, tangent over. 10/10, frenemies with benefits, would let Tugger get it on with my man even in the Lilyverse if he wasn't taken in it

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Stark Spangled Challenge: Bumps In The Night

Summary- 5.3k Steve Rogers x OC Katie (Stark) Rogers. Its Halloween Night! and the Roger Clan is busy getting ready for the night ahead. Once Steve and Katie have some time to themselves for more adult themed fun, there are some interruptions that might set them back. All a part of life in the Rogers Household though. Set in What-is-your-plan-today’s SSB Verse. Warnings- Hinted smut. Its really mostly fluffy fun for these two. Might be a curse word or two, cause lets face it, its who I am. Moodboard made by @what-is-your-backupplan-today​ and the lovely dividers made by @firefly-graphics​

A/N- Congrats on your one year anniversary @what-is-your-backupplan-today​. I know this year has had its moments, but I am eternally grateful I have gotten to know you this past year, and that you shared some beautiful stories with us, full of laughter, awww, and tears. (You know the moments I am talking about.) Thank you for letting me also dabble a bit in your OC’s lives, I think this is number 3? Also for basically just bullshitting random stuff in your inbox every week. It was a great challenge, a hell of a lot of fun. And as always sending you all the Love Babes. 💙  

Be sure to read the follow up to this by @what-is-your-backupplan-today​ called Stark Spangled Forever: The Devil Wears Nada 

Steve Roger’s Masterlist

Steve stabbed at the top of the pumpkin and cut around the top till he could pry it off, handing the pumpkin over to Jamie, who immediately started scooping out the seeds and innards, shaking his fingers a bit to shake off the sticky bites. Katie sat at the other end of the newspaper-covered table, wrinkling her nose. “I’m so glad this is your father’s holiday.” Flossie reached to grab a handful, and Katie scooped it over so the baby could squash it between her fingers. 

Rori nearby, who was told she could paint her pumpkin instead, leaned to dip her brush into the hot pink and then swirled it around her pumpkin with the tip of her tongue sticking out in concentration. “But it’s fun Mommy. In going to paint spiders all over for Auntie Nat Nat.” 

Harry gave a firm nod as he covered his pumpkin in hulk green color. “Yes mommy, fun. Hulk Smash!” He tossed his brush aside and started to use his fingers and hands, slapping green handprints all over it till it was covered. Soon his face was streaked with green and he looked beyond proud of himself. 

“Alright kids, you all know Christmas is your mom’s specialty.” Steve started to cut another pumpkin when Emmy came in, dropping her bag in an empty chair and rolling up her sleeves. 

“Moms christmas’s are the best.” She dropped a passing kiss to Flossie’s head, and then picked up a knife Steve had nearby, ready to take the pumpkin Steve was cutting the top off of. “But Dad’s pumpkins are really awesome.” 

“Thanks, Em.” Steve’s face flushed a bit at the compliment while he took the last pumpkin and opened it up, scooping out the innards just as Jamie started to finish his. Tilting it around, he looked at his mother. 

“Which side should I carve? I’m going to do a scary face this time.” He twisted his pumpkin back and forth, Katie studied it a moment and made a twirly motion with her hands. 

“Back that way, Yea. Looks flatter.” Jamie nodded and grabbed a sharpie, drawing a Jack-o-Lantern face on the pumpkin. “And your dad’s pumpkin’s do always look good on the front stoop. Why he does the pumpkins, and I take the pictures.” Moving to a stand, she patted a fussy Flossies back and took her to show her Rori’s and Harry’s wildly painted pumpkins. 

Emmy scooped out some more of the pumpkin guts and scrapped it all clean with a spoon. “Well I was actually going to ask you and Dad, how would you two feel about Peter and I took everyone trick or treating this year? It will be a warm evening, and Flossie always sleeps while being strolled around. You two could have an evening to yourselves, hand out some candy to kids, and spend time together.” The way she said it, Steve and Katie both knew she had given this some thought. When Steve looked over at Katie with a questioning look she gave a slight shrug and nod. 

“You sure you and Peter can watch over four kids?” Katie asked, slightly rocking Flossie back and forth. “Flossie can stay with us, she’s on a schedule, but I’m sure the other three would love to trick or treat with you and Peter.” 

Emmy gave a nod and plunged her knife into the face of the pumpkin. “I will message Peter and let him know, this was actually his suggestion. He was really excited when he mentioned it to me.” 

Steve gave a slight snort as he started carving. “And who are you two going as?” 

She grinned as she cut the grinning mouth and handed it to Flossie to inspect, who shoved the hard piece in her mouth to gnaw on, making a funny face at the taste. “We’re going as Han Solo and Princess Leia Dad. Pete’s a Star Wars fan.” 

“Course he is. Tony would have been thrilled to see Peter as Han Solo.” Steve turned his pumpkin to show Katie, who grinned as she leaned against Steve’s shoulder for a moment to look at his work. 

“He would have loved it and never let you live it down that you carved him a pumpkin.” She said softly, and Steve kissed her forehead. 

“Why I carved it.” Sitting on the pumpkin, was a carving of Ironman, Katie rubbed her face against his shoulder a second to collect herself. Memories of her brother still snuck up once in a while, but there were so many good memories that she didn’t mind. 

“It’s nice to see him still a part of the holidays. And this…” she pulled out her phone to take a picture to send to Pepper. “Makes me start to like fall a little more?” 

Steve gave a shrug, a bit of pink rising in his cheeks at how pleased Katie really did seem with it. “Jamie’s old iron man always ends up on the Christmas tree, and we started doing that sponsor a turkey in Tony’s name…” He drifted off, Katie giving a bit of a laugh. They always bought a turkey to be rescued, naming him Marv, it just seemed a fitting memory for Tony. 

It was starting to get dark. Katie was helping Rori dress in her outfit, giving a slight sigh and grin at her daughter’s antics as she stood in the mirror, inspecting her mother’s artistic skills. “I need more whiskers mom. Cats have more whiskers.” Katie leaned down again with the costume makeup kit. Using the black pencil, she etched two more on each of her cheeks and pointed to the mirror. 

“Okay how’s that Princess?” she asked, trying not to be sarcastic as Rori leaned in and stuck her ears on. 

“Perfect! Let’s go get Jamie and Harry, I want my candy.” She grabbed her trick or treat bag and marched out of the room, a girl on a mission. Katie followed to hear Steve talking to Jamie. 

“Okay, I’m trusting you to help Peter and Emmy look after Rori and Henry.” 

“Yes, dad I will, okay? I know I know.” 

“Sorry sorry, remember to have fun.” There was a rustling when Jamie scoffed and when Rori just slammed the door open and marched in like she was on her very own catwalk, you could see Steve holding a dinosaur Harry who took one look at his mother and held his hands out for her, which Steve passed over, and Jamie was straightening a wig he had on, having painted his face green, between him and Steve, they somehow managed to glue knobs on the side of his neck. Katie looked over her kids and gave a nod of approval. 

“Oooh, you all are spooky.” She shivered and Harry laughed in her arms giving a roaring sound. When Katie gave a fake scream, the little boy broke down in laughter, half hanging out of her arms. 

Rori started twirling around on her toes, showing off her costume. “What do you think, Daddy?” She sang and Jamie gave a smirk. 

“Don’t you know Stark chases cats up trees?” Jamie started teasing, and Rori stuck her tongue out at him. 

“Cats rule and dogs drool Jamie!” she retorted, and Jamie opened his mouth to say something when Steve cut them both off with a stern tone. 

“Cut it out you two or Emmy and Peter will just be taking Harry out. Rori lets see that spin again.” 

Both kids’ mouths snapped shut because they didn’t want to lose the privilege, Rori gave one more spin and gave her painted nose a wriggle. 

“Look just like a Halloween kitty Rori.” Steve smiled at her, Jamie quick to pipe up. 

“Year Rori, you look really cool.” 

Katie chuckled at their quickly changing attitudes and set her dinosaur down, who clamped right on Steve’s leg, looking up at his daddy giving a squeaky roar. 

“Oh! There’s a Trex on my leg!” Steve yelped and picked him back up, handing Harry his own trick or treat bag. “Okay, my Youngin’s, down to the living room to wait for Princess Leia and that boy.” 

“Han Solo Steve.” Katie rolled her eyes at him in passing, checking on Flossie who wriggled happily in her pack and play. “You hungry Little Girl?” She collected her and went into the living room with everyone else to wait, she had settled on the couch and was feeding Flossie while the kids all sat around watching Halloween Town when Emmy announced they were there. Steve pushed up from the couch to go greet them, all three kids rushing to follow him. Katie finished feeding first and turned her to her shoulder to burp her. Going out, she saw Emmy showing her costume to Steve, and Peter shuffling a bit in just Steve’s presence. But visibly relaxed once Katie had come out. 

“How do you think we came out Mom?” Emmy pressed in against Peter and hugged her arm around his waist, which he returned the gesture. 

“You two look great! Love the characters you two chose.” Katie genuinely praised and Rori swung her bag. 

“Can we go now?!” she whined and this time Katie gave her a reprimanding stare. 

“As soon as we are done talking to your sister and Peter. Patience Rori. And I want some pictures of all of you on the porch with the pumpkins.” Of course Rori perked up hearing that. 

“Can I wear my princess tiara?” 

“Yup, go upstairs and get it, we will take pictures afterward.” Katie smiled at her, and the little girl sprinted towards the stairs. Jamie was just about to say something when he caught sight of his father’s face clearly telling him to zip it. 

“I will be outside with Stark.” the boy patted his thigh, the dog pushing up from his bed and together they went out into the yard. Stark raced forward, diving right into a huge pile of leaves Steve had raked that morning, making Jamie laugh as the dogs head reappeared, half scattering the pile in his bounds back out to reach his boy for praises and head scritches. Steve, having watched all of this just shook his head with a chuckle before turning back to his oldest and her boyfriend.

With just the four of them left now, Steve remarked to both Emmy and Peter. “They are very excited, don’t let them run you over though.” 

Emmy shook her head with a smile. “Rori and Jamie? They won’t be an issue.” 

Peter was currently squatted down with Henry, playing a game with the little dinosaur. “They are always really awesome with us Mr.Rogers, I don’t see there being any problems. And were just staying in the neighborhood.” 

Emmy gave Steve a ‘See Dad, he’s responsible’ look, which Katie hid a smirk against the top of Flossie’s head, giving a gentle kiss. Steve gave a look of defeat, Peter was really good with all the little ones whenever he was over. 

“How about we head out to the porch? I hear Rori coming back down the stairs.” Katie suggested while sure enough, one black cat with a shimmering tiara bounded around the corner, throwing her hands up in the air. “Ready for my pictures!” 

Once pictures were done, Steve and Katie reminding everyone to behave for Emmy and Peter, they stood on the porch together waving. Katie leaned into Steve’s side, watching him closely as he kept an eye on the group till they were out of sight. 

“You all good Soldier?” she asked, and he glanced down in surprise, a smile forming on his face. 

“Yes, just weird not to be with them.” His hand rubbed down Katies back. “But we got the next couple hours to ourselves, how about we make it like old times? Except I will order us some take out. You go enjoy a bath while I put Flossie down, and we will watch a movie?” 

Heading back inside where it was warmer, Katie nodded, and handed Flossie over to Steve. “I think that’s a great idea, Steve. Is this pre or post dating old times?” 

“Post, cause fooling around on the couch is permitted. Italian or Chinese tonight?” 

Already Katie was reaching up to her ponytail and removing it. “Italian, get that penne arabiata, get extra garlic knots to.” She went to tiptoes and kissed his cheek before heading up the stairs to go pamper herself. Steve was already pulling out his phone to pull up their favorite takeout number when the doorbell rang. Looking out to see a group of trick or treaters, he set Flossie down in her pack and play, grabbing the bowl of candy they had set up earlier next to his pineapple bowl, and opened the door to the chorus of kids. 

“Trick or Treat!” the group sang out and bags were held up with expectations of candy to go flying in. Which Steve did, fistfuls of candy tossed in, praising each costume he saw, a cowboy, an alien, princess, and then a teeny tiny little Captain America stepped up, holding his bag up towards Steve. Steve might have given him a bit extra.

Finishing getting the order placed, sure not to forget the extra garlic knots, Steve gave Flossie a quick bath in the sink just to clean her up, and wrapped in a towel, he carried his sleepy daughter upstairs to put her down. So far they have been lucky with her, not too fussy lately, as soon as he laid her down, she settled right in. He poked his head in momentarily to check on Katie, who looked so relaxed in all the bubbles, that he eased away and back down the stairs. 

Steve set about opening a bottle of wine, and he went through the tv selections till he found one of Katie’s favorite movies. 

He never cared for the scary movies, so Stephen King wasn’t necessarily one of his favorite artists. But the first time she had him watch The Green Mile, he really enjoyed it, which thrilled Katie seeing how much she loved. And the film, well it had a special meaning just for the two of them. 

Get busy living, or get busy dying. 

Yup, this would be the movie tonight, and as he finished setting it up, the doorbell rang. Digging out his wallet, he gave the delivery kid a nice tip and started to take the food out as Katie made her way down the stairs. Hair braided down the back, loose sleep tank and fuzzy warm plaid sleep pants. Her nose was lifted with appreciation, and she danced over to the counter, opening the bag immediately of garlic knots. “Steve, you’re the best for not forgetting the knots.” Immediately she ripped into one of the buttery rolls and popped the piece into her mouth. 

“Would you like a glass of wine with that?” He asked, already knowing the answer, and started pouring. 

“Mmhh, a man who knows the way to my heart.” She took the glass and sipped before going to grab plates and forks to serve them up. 

“I hope after all this time I do.” Steve chuckled, grabbing things like napkins, the bottle of wine, a beer for himself and Katie’s garlic knots. She brought the plates with her to set them down on the coffee table before falling onto the couch. “Flossie all tucked in?” 

“Passed out as soon as she laid her down. I think today’s activities tired her out.” He pulled the baby monitor from his pocket, turning on the screen to see Flossie had already shifted in her sleep, but still out of it. He set it up on the coffee table so they both could check in on her on occasion. Katie glanced to the tv screen as she got comfy on the couch. 

“Ahhh, one of the best.” She cuddled up next to Steve, feet tucked up and her plate balancing on her thigh. 

“Well this is as spooky as I like getting with movies.” Steve admitted while hitting play, and Katie chuckled, looking up at her husband while she took her first bite of pasta. 

“Yea, you don’t seem like a ‘Scream’ kind of guy.” 

He smirked while sipping from a bottle of beer, his blue eyes glinting at the innuendo that fell from him next. “Only Scream I want to hear is you saying my name.” 

Katie rolled her eyes at him with a laugh, shaking her head while stabbing her fork into her penne. “You might get lucky and have that happen later. Maybe. Start the damn movie Soldier.” 

A wiggle of Steve’s eyebrows teased further while he hit play, and they both ate in silence for the most part, Katie giving up first and setting her plate back on the coffee table, sipping from her wine and settling back in against Steve. 

Katies arm went around the back of Steve’s neck, letting her fingers tangle in the short hairs, and then her fingers trailed along his chain, seeking out a tense muscle at the back of his neck and rubbing her fingertips over it. It felt good, enough for Steve to close his eyes, tilt his head forward and enjoy the sensation that it caused to ripple along his back. “Mmmhh, right there Baby.” Digging in deeper, she shifted, pressing in closer, and watching as Steve’s face twisted a bit with pleasure at the way her fingers were working the muscles. 

“You know Steve, it’s going to be a while before the kids get home and Flossie will be down for a while.” That caught her husband’s attention, his eyes opening back up to look at her as she licked her lips, and catching the bottom with her teeth. 

“We should really take advantage.” Steve started as he shifted a bit to offer more of his lap. “Come here Doll.” He grasped her hips and shifted Katie easily into his hold, a soft squeal of delight coming from her.

Katie was straddled in his lap, fingers moving to twist in his hair and large firm hands pressed against her back to pull her in closer, any words were lost between exploring lips, and soft sighs shared. This was familiar to both of them, fingers exploring, nudging of noses against the other to draw back into hungry kisses. As familiar as it was, it was exciting, Katie starting to rock herself in Steve’s lap, and his pants grew achingly tight the more his wife grinded herself in his lap. 

“You’re going to drive me crazy.” he groaned into her neck where he was chaining kisses down, and Katie bit on his earlobe, sucking it to flick her tongue against the sensitive spot, moving enough to trace the shell of his ear with soft lips and heated words. 

“That is the goal Captain.” a husky tone drove her point home, and Steve with his arm wrapped around her tightly, shifted the two of them till his larger frame pressed her into the couch. 

“How much time till everyone gets home?” Steve asked as he drew up Katies tank top, flushing kisses along her collarbone and tugging it over her head to discard nearby. Grabbing his wrist, she twisted his arm enough to look at the time.” 

“It’s just after seven now, so maybe forty five minutes?” letting go, she looked up at Steve, teeth pulling at her lips as her eyes roamed over his face. “You got time.” Wrapping her hand in his dangling chain, she yanked on it hard enough to draw Steve forward, crashing open mouths together and wrapping her legs around his waist when he lost balance and just about fell on top of her. 

Katie knew she had caught Steve unaware, but he recovered quickly with a grasp to her hips and jerked her up the couch to give himself more room. Katie started to tug up his shirt to get to his shoulders, his chest, when the all familiar chime of the doorbell went off, and both of them froze in place. Steve hovering over Katie, his shirt half dragged off him, Katie arching her lower back to press into him. Both wide eyed at each other when the doorbell went off again, and a chorus of kids sang out “Trick or Treat, smell out feet, give up something good to eat.” 

Katie busted out in a giggle, and peeked over Steve’s shoulder to see the shadows on their porch. Steve dropped his head against her shoulder with a groan, and pushed up off the couch, giving a parting hissing kiss. 

“Don’t go anywhere Doll.” Off the couch and he pulled at his sweatpants to try and hide his semi erection, straightening his shirt. “Give me just a second.” Steve said with a raised voice when he grabbed the candy bowl. This time when he opened the door, there was ninjas, a witch, an angel, and a exhausted looking parent flashing a sorry smile at him. 

“Happy Halloween kids” Steve held out the bowl and insisted each kid take themselves some extra, now kind of looking for an excuse to be able to turn off his porch light for the night. But he didn’t have it in him to do it before they were out of candy. Giving a wave as the kids thanked him, he let the door close and went back to the couch to see Katie half watching the movie. But hearing him approach, she turned her eyes up to him and gave a crook of a finger with a grin. “Where were we Soldier?” 

Steve lowered back down onto the couch, pressing Katie to her back with caging arms, kisses going down from her neck to her shoulders. “Exactly right here.” He rumbled between the brush of his lips along that rush of her pulse. They only had 35 mins now, the thought danced in the back of Steve’s mind while his hands rubbed along her sides, then dipped his fingers into her soft comfy pajama bottoms to rub at her core through her panties, making her sigh and shift to tighten her legs back around him, her eyes softening to a lust filled haze as she pressed further against his fingers with the soft whimper of need. “Stevie…” Fingers tightening into his shirt and then she tugged at it, this time dragging it off so she could really touch him. That first push of her hands against his chest and down his stomach, it was hard not to control the tensing of his muscles, making Katie bite at her lip as she started to wriggle more, want more. Steve caught her lips with his as his hand withdrew, going to fold fingers into her bottoms and pull them off when a crash came from the kitchen. 

“What the hell?” His head whipped up and concern crossed his face. Katie tipped her head back to look in their kitchen, but couldn’t see anything. “I better go look.” 

As he got up, Katie twisted back to sit up and grabbed the baby monitor to check, and see Flossie still sleeping peacefully through the loud bang. Katie moved to grab her tank and tugged it on, as well as collect their empty plates, and called out. “Steve? Is everything okay?” 

Steve walked in a bit cautious, looking around to see nothing looked out of place. A frown crossed his face as his eyes searched the darker areas of the kitchen, his hand sliding along the wall to find the light switch and flicked it on. That’s when he heard something shuffling against the floor just out of sight behind the kitchen island. Going around it, there he found Stark with one of the pasta containers, chasing it around as he licked the sauce out of it. Katies voice rang out questioning, and he scowled at the dog, his hands falling to his hips. “It’s okay Katie, just Stark.” Turning his attention back to Stark who seemed to realize Steve was there, and he lifted his head from the take out box with a wag of his tail. “Yea, buddy you kinda just blocked me.” he sighed as he reached down to grab the box and scowled at him. “And when do you counter surf?” Stark just stared at him, then leaned forward to attempt to swipe his tongue against Steve’s face, but the man yanked back in time, shaking his head. “Nuh uh Stark, that isn’t going to fix it, i’m mad at you.” Moving to straighten, Katie came in with empty plates and opened the door to the dishwasher to put them away. 

“So what was it?” her eyes scanning around the room, Stark looking innocent between them and Steve stuffing the empty containers into the garbage. “Was it Stark?” Katies eyes narrowed at the innocent face while closing the dishwasher. 

Steve gave a nod. “But my fault, I left the take out boxes on the edge of the counter.” Why was he defending Stark? Well he did have a soft spot for the mutt. “Any why didn’t you wait on the couch?” This time he crowded her into the counter to lift her to perch on the edge, Katie looking at Steve with an arch of her brow as her hands seemed to have a life of their own, sliding palms over his chest, scratching lightly. “Because now we’re at 25 minutes before Emmy walks through that door with three exhausted kids, and we have to get them in the bath and bed. While keeping them away from the candy.” 

“You know I like a challenge.” Steve drew her in closer around him, making Katie giggle as they resumed their teasing from earlier. 

“You really think you can do all you want to do, and have me presentable for the family.” she locked her legs back around him and grinded herself against him. 

“Doll, you really doubt me?” Steve grinned a bit, cupping the back of her neck and tilting to kiss her breathless, once more the two of them playing a game of pull and push, bodies flushing against each other, and just about to take it to the next step. Steve grasping Katies clenching thighs around his waist when a cry emitted from above them, and next to them. The baby monitor was just seconds behind Flossies cries above them, and together they stilled, Katies forehead leaning against Steves as she drew in a frustrated breath. 

“She’s hungry, it’s her feeding time.” Breathing that out, Katie cupped Steve’s face and gave just a affectionate kiss, her emeralds shimmering with a hint of amusement. “We were not even close.” 

Taking a step back, Steve shook his head, lifting Katie off the counter. “I will go get her and bring her down Doll.” He offered, Katie giving a nod while she decided to make her a bottle this time. 

Upstairs Steve saw a fussing Flossie, little fists waving and big eyes filled with tears. Steve shushed Flossie a bit while he picked her up, pulling her into his shoulder where he felt his littlest snuggle with soft cries into his shirt. “Now now baby girl, are all these tears needed?” His hand which covered her entire back made gentle soothing circles as he rocked himself back and forth gently. “Moms downstairs making you a bottle right now.” 

Reaching for a soft blanket and draped it over his free shoulder while leaving the room. He was quick to go down the stairs, and back into the kitchen to check on Katie’s progress. Looking over her shoulder, Katies gaze softened seeing the two of them, and she tilted her head to look at Flossie who quieted once she saw her mother. “Did you tell Daddy that yes, all those tears were needed?” glancing up at Steve while she grabbed the bottle, he gave a confused look at how she knew what he had said, she nodded towards the baby monitor. “Heard you talking to her earlier.” Brushing past him, Katie got comfy in there makeout spot earlier, holding her arms out for Flossie. Earlier frustrations were gone as she pulled the baby into her arms, kissing the silky soft baby head while she offered the bottle. Eagerly, Flossie sucked on the bottle’s nipple, her eyes crinkling in the corner in happiness. Steve watched a moment before the doorbell rang once more. Dropping a kiss to the top of Katies head, he went to the door, automatically grabbing the candy bowl off the table and opening it. This time he was met with a black tiara wearing cat, one dinosaur, one frankenstein, a han solo and princess leia. Then behind them was one Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson grinning like idiots. “Trick or Treat!” 

Steve held onto his bowl and smirked at his kids. “Well aren’t these just the coolest costumes of the night… I suppose you all want some candy and head on home?” 

Jamie grinned and held out his almost overflowing bag, Rori marched past her father, and announced she was home with a loud “Mom! I got so much candy, and everyone loved my costume.” Bucky and Sam went around the two younger adults holding the dinosaur, Bucky grabbing the bowl from Steve’s hand. 

“Happy Halloween Schmaptain Schmerica. Damn Wilson, they have the good candy.” Bucky started picking through it, and Sam grabbed the bowl from his hands. “Hey!” 

“Let’s see what you call good, you old fart. If you’re talking about licorice, you’re certifiable.” 

Their voices drifted off as they went into the living room. Peter and Emmy came in next, in which Emmy grabbed her car keys out of the pineapple bowl. “Peter and I got invited to a party after we finished up. So I won’t be home till late Dad. The kids were great, no problems at all. I’m just going to go say goodnight to Mom.” Taking Peter’s hand, she pulled him into the living room, Henry hanging on her hip. Steve decided to step outside for a moment, take in a breath of fresh air, clear his head. 

It had been an interesting evening to say the least, but Steve wouldn’t have had it any other way thinking back on it as he tipped his head back to admire the night sky, the moon a full one this year casting everything in that eerie glow that just seemed to fit this night. Katie and him had fun together, even with the interruptions, the kids all had a blast as he could hear the laughter coming from behind him, and everyone was back home. 

Well… mostly. But Steve trusted Peter for the most part to take care of Emmy, although he knew she could easily handle herself and had them on speed dial. Speaking of, he could hear Emmy and Peter making their way back out the door,  talking to Katie who was following behind them. She paused at Steve’s side, leaning into his warmth as it got chilly out now. 

“Be safe, and have fun.” Katie finished off what she had been saying and Emmy nodded. 

“Of course, I will be home probably after midnight.” she assured her parents, and Steve pipped up. 

“Need anything just call.” 

“Yes, will do. Bye you guys, love you.” Emmy pulled away with Peter, and soon it was just Katie and Steve on the porch, together they walked off the steps and turned to look at the glowing pumpkins, their candles dying down to flickering flames. Steve’s hand rubbed against her bare arm, the tank top not protecting her much from the cold. “Ready to go back in?” 

“Go back in, collect Flossie from Bucky and Sam, get the other two into showers and one roaring dinosaur into a bath. Put them all down for the night? That sounds like something a task force is needed for.” 

“Yea, that kind of go back in.” Steve chuckled softly, knowing it was gonna be a bit of a fuss getting the excited kids all simmered down with how excited they were. 

“I left Sam and Bucky entertaining to catch a few extra seconds with you before the madness starts.” she twisted into his hold, hugging him and tilting her head back to look up at him. “But, if you’re up for it, I think tonight in bed we should pick up where we left off. Without all the interruptions.” 

“Only if you are still wanting Mrs.Rogers.” Steve assured Katie, who nodded and grinned. 

“Let’s blow out these pumpkins and get started.” Going back towards the house, where a loudly singing Rori and Sam sounded like they were doing a disney duet, Katie and Steve blew out the glowing pumpkins and went back inside to get everyone situated.

[sopxhiea]

Comfortable

Alfie Solomons X Reader

| Prompt

  “Please, stop smiling at me like that. I’m not sure what will happen if you keep doing that.”

The room was full of souls: old, young, tired, happy, intoxicated. The weather outside the grand hall contradicted the one outside, there was a cold breeze caressing the branches of the trees while the inside of the velvet walls smelled of hot air and expensive perfume. There were people drinking in one corner, most of the gentlemen and a few youngins were gone to do play with some snow while most of the ladies and their husbands remained in the crowd.

There were merchandisers, rich millionaires and their pretty things, families of two and the old English ones who never missed a party. His eyes traveled across the room, meeting many smiling faces who were obviously too drunk to decipher anything while he passed by them. Bumping into a couple on the last step he took, he apologised for intruding while the music changed into a slower one, giving the young girls a break from swaying their hips a little too hard. 

There you stood with a couple of ladies, chatting about the last art deal you’d made for a very pricey painting. The women around envied you, he could see that. You had worked for yourself and by yourself, not many were capable of doing that even if they were not a ravishing lady like you were. You patted Charlie’s head when he hugged your legs, Grace following him close behind and chuckling at the young boy while you looked at him lovingly.

Your eyes met his across the room, the relief of finding you at last washing over his features while he gave you a smirk, making you chuckle and a hint of blush on your cheeks followed soon after. He started walking towards you, breaking the crowd when he needed to. He was looking extremely fine today, you had to admit. The suit he had gotten tailored for himself was working out for him, he looked sharp and almost a little too dashing. His hair wasn’t in the usual hat hair style, it was brushed back and the tangled texture of his beard was long gone, he had trimmed it down for you.

It had been about a week since you’d last seen him. He had been away on business and you were staying at your old place, you hadn’t sold it yet and it was liveable. It had been your first home after all. You had spent nights filled with wine, books and jazz as a single lady just like you’d done before you’d married him. You still did all those things but now, there was another soul who would accompany you while you enjoyed the down time. It was better, really, to have his hands massage you as you read the book, cyril would curl up next to you and the smell of vanilla candles would fill the house.

He’d been even better than you thought he’d be after you had gotten married. He was a sweet teddy bear before but he’d become someone you’d want to share everything with, things didn’t feel as good if it meant that he wasn’t there to experience it with you. You had joined souls, almost. He would sense your moods, almost pick up on things you were thinking all too well and you knew him like the back of your hand after a year of being married. He was your sweetheart.

You felt his gaze before you felt his touch, locking eyes with him while he smiled at you, making your heart feel giddy. You had never been the one for feeling this way before, it had been only for him up until this point but his actions had way too many effects on you, it was hard to keep up with your hear when he was around. You let Charlie go and he gently touched your arm, pulling you into him a little while he whispered, his perfume filled your nose which got an approving chuckle from you.

“You look absolutely ravishing, luv.” he spoke, lowly and into your ear. You chuckled, your hand meeting his chest while his hot breath caressed your ear.

“So do you..” you said, eyes meeting his while you came to the realisation that you’d had a little too much to drink than he’d said. He didn’t mind, he liked how silly you were when you got drunk.

“I missed you, doll..” he breathed into your ear, he had been quite miserable for the past week without you. The men were getting into his nerves and he usually had you to pull him out of things like that but the last week, all he had was himself and he liked himself much better when you were around.

You gave him a squeeze on his arm, your other hand holding his while he intertwined your fingers. There was no denying that you both were very active on bed, it had gotten particularly heated after you had become his bride, the first three months were practically spent on the bed since he’d never let you go, you had no opposition to that. After the first three months, the sex was carried in wherever you went, sometimes it was his office and other times the car, an empty valley and even a party once.

You could feel his desperation in his voice, he was dying to kiss you again and it was no wonder from the way his eyes sparkled while staring at your lips.

“You’ve been missed too, Alfie...” you whispered into his ear, aware of the effect you were having on him and it turned you on, undeniably so. You heard him gulp when you caressed his bicep, shivers running up and down his body while you just smiled.

It was a party with too many people around, it was risky to do anything. The people around were also of the high class, Alfie didn’t give a fuck but you were very well aware of the fact that both alone and together, you had a reputation to uphold. You gave him an innocent smile while Arthur walked by, smiling at the sight of both of you. The Shelby family wasn’t particularly in love with Alfie but they liked you a good amount.

The slow sing filled your ears, you contently hummed along to the song while his hand found its usual place in the small of your back, never leaving you once. The rest of the party was spent with you talking to him about what you did, he cracked a couple jokes here and there, making you smile. He had missed seeing you smile. You felt his smell all around you that evening, his figure followed you like a lost puppy. You chatted up with a couple of people you found moderately pleasant and Alfie did too, he was good with people and you saw that once again while he stole all the hearts, and not just of the women.

The night slowly came to an end, you were holding the new born of John and Esme in your arms, whispering a lullaby into the baby’s ear while the room was silent, a candle in the distant corner while you moved your body to the melody. The Shelby family and a couple associates remained in the building, and there was also you and Alfie. You hadn’t seen him ever since Tommy and Michael took him into Tommy’s study to discuss business, he didn’t want to go but you’d murmured into his ear that it was alright and he had been long gone since.

When he disappeared, you had started chatting to the people around, seeing who you knew and who you didn’t. Somewhere along the way, Esme and Grace had found you and soon, Ada and Polly followed. You had ended up in a small room with the familiar women, all of them chatting about the people in the next room. You had shaken your head and remained silent, earning giggles from Ada and Polly while you ate instead of talking. Then they’d left the room and it was you, Esme and the baby and that was how you were in the current position you were put in.

She was a beautiful baby girl, maybe too small but adorable regardless. You’d been afraid to pick her up at first with the fear of being too harsh but Esme had given you the baby, put her directly into your arms and had disappeared. You could tell she needed some time off and were more than happy to give her the opportunity. Alfie was looking for you, had been for the past twenty minutes but they were man around who wanted to chat to him, he declined them politely like you’d shown and told them that they would speak another time, wandering off to the big halls of Tommy’s house to look for you.

Your navy dress was flowing on the sides as you swayed the baby in your arms, a few loose strands of hair falling around your face from the low bun you had. The sweet lullaby filled the room, nothing but your breathing and slow whispers could be heard. The candles were around the room, illuminating your face just the right way while your face glistened, a smile on your lips while you rocked the small baby, getting all the baby smell while you could.

Alfie was struck, his heart was running a mile per second. He had never seen you more beautiful. You were singing to the baby slowly while he opened the door, slowly to take a better look and thats when you’d realised he’d found you at last. Having a baby was something you’d spoken about but it had been one conversation at the very beginning of your relationship with Alfie, you didn’t know you’d marry him then. He had imagined, maybe too many times, that you’d someday carry his kids, you’d be the perfect mother just like you’d been the perfect companion and wife to him. He just knew you’d be.

You gave him a small smile while holding the baby still, smelling the top of her head to get the heavenly smell they carried in such an early age. He smiled back, you could see he was stunned but it was hard to pinpoint why. You wanted kids, especially with Alfie but you didn’t know when the timing would be right, or if there would ever be the right time to do such a thing since it was a big responsibility. You knew he wanted them too, he had told you he wanted an army of kids but you didn’t even know if you were capable of getting pregnant yet. You’d been very careful about that until that point.

You put the baby in the crib, giving her one last forehead kiss before leaving the room quietly. You shut the door behind you, slowly to make sure you didn’t make a sound and the whole time, Alfie was watching you with an intense look. He was falling in love with you again. You didn’t say anything when you turned back and found him just an inch away from you, you could feel his breath on your face but that wasn’t what bothered you at that very second, it was the look he had in his eyes, it was full of sorrow and hope and it made you feel like you were drowning.

You shook your head, smiling weakly as he looked at you with the same intense gaze still. Your hands found his shoulders, pulling him back to life while the look in his eyes was still there. A couple seconds passed and an impeccable smile found his lips, he put a kiss on your forehead, taking all your smell in while you held him in place as much as possible, he was a wreck of emotions after seeing that sight.

You spoke lowly while looking at the handsome man before you. “Please, stop smiling at me like that. I’m not sure what will happen if you keep doing that.” your voice was loving but unsure.

He chuckled, a little too loud which made you cover his mouth immediately to keep the baby sleeping. His lips met your hand covering his mouth, kissing it gently while you gave him an adoring look. “You’re just the best fucking thing, ya’ know that, love?” he spoke, lowly into your ear while you kissed his cheek suddenly.

“I have a vague idea.” you said jokingly, gaining silent smile from him while he took your hand in his and walking down the corridor to the big hall.

They walked into the big hall where the remaining crowd sat still, wine or rum in one of their hands while some of them danced in the now empty hall and some just sat together. Alfie’s hands never left yours while his thumb caressed your fingers, feeling the cold material of your wedding ring against his warm skin. He murmured a small goodbye while dragging you out of the place, you waved to everyone before leaving. He was too impatient.

You soon found yourself in the back of a car seat, Alfie said something to the driver before attacking your neck. You muffled your whimpers by kissing him, letting his coat cover your legs when his hands traveled along your upper thighs. He had missed you: your smell, your smile and the small giggles that came of your mouth when he would make a joke. He had missed your touch and your body, the sounds he would erupt from you as well as the sweet hums you would give him. He had missed your voice and your presence, the delicate way you had of easing his pain and nerves and he was going to make sure he remembered each detail of that night.

[brassclaws-of-oddworld]

Within Tamara’s hidden cave, the center pool was aglow with the enchantress’ magic, crystals levitating around the edge of the whirlpool as a massive crystal ball floated above the water in the center of the circle.  Within the sphere, there is a clear vision of the boss himself.  Feng Ippuki.  While Kyung and Tamara sat closest to it, Officer Bev stood by closely with a notepad and pen in hand, writing down notes of the discussion that he would need to report back to the squads.

“So it’s settled, then.  Agent Faf is being put on a well-deserved vacation, and will just let us know if she feels well enough to go back to work if she sees fit before the end of the vacation period.  If need be, we can even extend it.  We just don’t want to cause another blackout like that so soon,” Feng reiterated to make sure the decision was correct.

“Yes, sir!  Thank you...” Kyung nodded affirmatively, but trailed off with a look of uncertainty.  “But what about my comrades, boss?  The rescue operations, infiltration missions...?” She began to fret.

“I’m certain that our leader already has something in mind, youngin’.   Isn’t that right, Ippuki?” Tamara reassured the other woman, casting a side glance over to Feng.

“Indeed.  C.Q. and her manager have already made arrangements to land in Mudos.  They’ll be touring through different cities, and we’ll be making sure that our operations continue to go smoothly,” He answered without a second thought, though rolled his eyes a little at Tamara’s side-eye towards him.

“Very good, sir.  I will do my best to recover as quickly as possible--” Kyung started, but was quickly cut off.

“Agent Faf...” Feng’s tone was like that of a parent gently warning their child to fix their phrasing.

“Okay, I’ll take my vacation and rest up properly,” She rephrased, earning a collective nod of approval from Feng, Tamara and Bev.

“Good job, Agent Faf.  Get well soon, you and your squads have done a great job in assisting Haven so far.  Dismissed,” He bid to the trio before Tamara ended the meeting, Feng’s image within the crystal ball fading while the enchanted stones slowly floated back to the corners of the room they had once been stationed, and the large crystal ball gracefully sank down under the water.

[qqueenofhades]

Wait, has the national anthem Not always been played before a game? I'm 26 btw.

Welp. Not to once again sound like an old person, but you youngins really don't know how much 9/11 changed everything. It's not your fault; you can't help when you were born and what you experienced, but still.

I remember the actual day of 9/11 (I was 13), and I remember how fast everything just went crazy afterward. For most of the 90s, America was feeling pretty great about itself; the economy was booming, they had "won" the Cold War with the overpowering might of capitalism etc etc, and they were once more and unquestionably the global top dog. Then 9/11 happened, and it just... shattered that. All of a sudden America recast itself as the weak and vulnerable victim who had been unfairly attacked, and needed to go on an actual new crusade (Bush did use that word in his original response before being forced to walk it back) to destroy the very roots of the system that had done it. Which of course was impossible, hence the paradoxical name of the "War on Terror." Who do you actually punish in that case? The 19 Saudi hijackers were all dead, and Saudi Arabia itself was a US ally, so Bush attacked Afghanistan for having served as an al-Qaeda base and center of operations. Which, I might add, American intelligence had known perfectly well for decades. When the Soviets invaded Afghanistan in 1979, the US had armed the local warlords and mujaheddin and other Islamist groups to fight back against them. When the USSR finally crashed out of Afghanistan having achieved nothing over a decade but take horrendous losses and fail to effectively control the country (gee, sound familiar?) all of that weaponry and anti-imperialist sentiment had to go somewhere.

Bush then, of course, followed it up by launching the invasion of Iraq in 2003, based on what turned out to be some of the most spurious "intelligence" of all time and which was largely perceived as being a revenge-driven attempt to complete the Gulf War from his father Bush Senior's only presidential term. There was much more opposition to this action than there had been for the invasion of Afghanistan; Bush's approval rating soared to somewhere north of 90% in the days and months after 9/11. But this was accompanied by a huge and seismic shift in the patterns of American everyday society, especially its visible militarization and performance of patriotism. The Department of Defense doled out billions of dollars to make major sporting events into flag-and-fighter-plane extravaganzas. We suddenly had to "honor the military" at every turn. The national anthem and the Pledge of Allegiance and all the other original ammunition of traditional right-wing culture wars became much more visible and much more aggressively insisted upon.

This is when we also had the development of Patriot Acts I and II and the beginning of industrial, habitual, mass-scale surveillance of ordinary American citizens in the name of "security," and "finding terrorists" and so forth. Obviously, it was accompanied with systemic profiling and targeting of Muslim Americans, and questions about how "American" they could really be, just as had happened with Japanese-Americans and internment camps in America during WWII. For post 9/11 America, the enemy could be anywhere -- not just overseas in the Middle East, but possibly next door to you! Zomgz!

Basically, it cultivated a permanent air of grievance, victimisation, mistrust, and supposedly "justified" offensive foreign wars in the name of "Freedom." Of course, it wasn't until 2011, under Obama, that Osama bin Laden himself was actually found and taken out -- and then he was hiding in a comfortable Pakistani suburb, not Afghanistan or Iraq or any of the places Bush had torn apart in the name of Morally Justified Vengeance For 9/11. What do you say to that? Oops?

Anyway, yes. The militarization and self-congratulatory performance of patriotism that is now accepted as a baseline in American public life is a direct result of 9/11. While Trump, as he did with all the other worst qualities of the Republican party and American society more generally, magnified it and exploited it to its greatest extreme, it was (once again) the Bush years that laid the foundation for it.

[highgaarden]

a lover’s concerto; game of thrones au. written for @klaroline-events‘ kc june bingo: ROYALS.

He shouldn’t be sitting so close, really, seeing as they were only just betrothed – and Caroline really wanted him to push his chair a bit further, but she had been told that you don’t tell a Targaryen what to do, much less the Mad King himself.

“Are you always so improper? Back it up, Dragon Boy,” said Caroline, who had never liked being told what to do.

Highgarden was a madness of wine and song. Enzo was trying not to vomit across the table whilst Damon was passed out underneath it. Loras was busy regaling a very drunk Malachai about that one time he accidentally set half their gardens on fire. Margaery was giggling, leaning heavily into Bonnie, who looked like even she was enjoying all the commotion around her.

It was strange that the everyone would have so much cause for celebration considering – everything – but… there you have it. Maybe she’d enjoy the party better if she wasn’t sitting at the head of the table, so far away from her friends.

“You’re sulking, Princess,” Klaus pointed out from behind the rim of his goblet.

“I don’t sulk,” she said, sulkily.

“Would it make you feel better,” he said, “if I named one of my dragons after you?”

“It would not,” she said primly, but Klaus hardly missed the little flare of curiosity in her eyes.  

“Qeldlie, I think I’ll name her,” Klaus decided. “It means golden. After your hair.”

Caroline, who had not yet started to learn High Valyrian, had to take his word for it. “A dragon in the Reach. Who would have thought?”

“These fertile lands suit them, it would seem,” Klaus said. He tipped his goblet at her. “Here’s to us Growing Strong.”

She tipped her own goblet back at him. “With Fire and Blood.”

—

The day the Targaryens came to Highgarden was quite a thing to behold.

Niklaus the Mad came swooping in on his dragon Viserion, whilst his sister Rebekah was on Drogon, and his brother Elijah was on Rhaegal, just like the stories they always hear about.

Katherine, a good handmaiden and a very bad flirt, was fanning her cheeks. Caroline wanted to snort. Who the hell did they think they were, rolling up into her lands with their bigass envoy and their stupid sunglasses?

“It’s not that hot here,” she grumbled. “No, Elena, do not wave!”

—

William had decided that to remain in his seat as one of the most ancient houses in the Kingdom, declaring friendship wasn’t enough when Klaus, apparently bored one day, wanted to liberate Westeros.

As if being an era ahead of them in technology made Dragonstone the ballers of the Seven Kingdoms. Klaus certainly thought so.

He was in William’s audience chamber when Caroline stomped in, huffing, and Klaus had tilted his head at her.

“Princess of the Summer courts,” he greeted.

“Your Grace,” she managed as graciously as she could, and sunk into a curtsy. “What brings you here?”

Klaus didn’t answer her. Instead he turned to William. “My Lord, your daughter speaks out of turn.”

“I—” blustered her father, turning a magnificent shade of magenta.

“I like it,” Klaus said. “So, have you heard? I am in search of a wife.”

“No, Your Grace - I hadn’t heard,” William said, the cogs already turning in his head.

Caroline’s barely had time to think whether this was a good opportunity to faint before Klaus has his lips on her knuckles.

—

Rebekah took to her at once, not because she was a lady as equal in beauty and stature as herself, but because she was someone to talk to that wasn’t one of her brothers.

“You’re lucky you’re an only child,” the Princess of Dragonstone confided one afternoon whilst they were practicing their stitching. She peeked at Caroline’s work – a pull of the needle here, a little thread there, and a flower bloomed to life in her hands – and looks approving. “You wouldn’t believe it, but brothers! They take ages getting ready.”

“You don’t say,” Caroline mumbled. There was already a ring on her finger, one of promise, and apparently there were two more to come before she and Klaus were finally to marry. She was disgruntled not at the fact that he had crafted her a ring so soon but more the fact that she didn’t hate it. She’d expected a big rock, and yes, it did come with that, but it was also surprisingly tasteful.

And it suited her very much, as if the gifter had taken exceptional notice of her hands.

—

He wasn’t bad company, she supposed. Things could be worse. According to Katherine things almost had been worse – apparently her father had considered a proposal from Winterfell.

Sure, the Starks were cool and all with their Direwolves, but she still hadn’t forgotten the time in Year 10 when Tyler, having invited Caroline over during one of those tedious Royal Exchange Programmes to experience court life in the asscrack of winter, had warged into his Direwolf in an attempt to impress her and had shed all over her favourite dress.

“Do you like dragons?” Klaus asked over breakfast. It was just the two of them since everyone else was still nursing their epic hangovers from last night’s wedding announcement celebrations.

She chewed thoughtfully on her lemon cake and swallowed before answering. “I do,” she said. “But I’m not talking to you until you tell me why you chose me.”

“I fancy you,” Klaus said.

She looked at him sharply.

“Is that so hard to believe?” he asked, sipping his coffee.

“Yes.”

The look he shot her was incredulous. “I see beyond your petals, you know. That you’re beautiful is a given – that you are strong, I have no doubt, considering your House words. But you are also full of light. A maiden fair as summer, with sunlight in her hair.”

Caroline frowned down at her tea and fought down a blush.

“If we finish up quickly, I’ll take you to see Qeldlie,” he said.

Caroline blinked at him. “Did you really name a dragon after me?”

“Of course.” He ducks his head. “It is not something I do often, mind you.”

She looked at him from behind the rim of her teacup. “I know.”

“Do you now?” Klaus asked with a tilt of his lips. He hesitated for a moment. “Dragons, they’re the opposite of humans.”

“How so?”

“They’re loyal,” he said simply.

“To a point, I’ve heard,” Caroline said.

“That’s true,” Klaus conceded. “If you treat them well. With the deference they deserve – but not so much that they can sense weakness. You must command them – and I saw that in you. You would have a dragon bend its knee to you, Princess.”

Caroline didn’t quite know what to say to that. She put down her teacup, and for the first time looked him in the eye. “Take me to see her.”

—

She was a magnificent creature, creamy white with gold markings, flapping her great wings and snorting hot air onto her cheeks. She stared up at it, wide-eyed with wonder, her heart in her throat as she took in its size. When Qeldlie spread her wings it spanned almost the length of her entire private garden.

“Golden,” Klaus murmured and tugged on one of her curls. “She’s a youngin, still, but under your care she will flourish. Have your other teenage lovers ever accorded you so magnoliously?”

“This isn’t a competition, Your Grace,” Caroline rolled her eyes. Qeldlie butted his hand out of the way to nuzzle into her cheeks, startling her with its sudden proximity.

“Klaus,” he corrected. “And I know it isn’t. They couldn’t possibly compare.”

“You’re assuming I’ve been courted aplenty,” she said, reaching a tentative hand towards Qeldlie before pulling it back. “I don’t think having a profile on RoyalMatch.com counts.”

“Have a word with your team about taking that down, will you?” Klaus started to scowl, before realising she was kidding. He returned her smile slowly, like he was out of practice or something.

“Like this, Klaus,” she almost chastised. She cleared her throat once and turned to face him fully and turned on him the famed Tyrell charm, the beguiling femininity of a rose.

Klaus studied her. “I don’t care much for pretence, sweetheart. I’d much rather you show me your thorns.”

Insistently Qeldlie returned her snout to her neck, and she yelped at the sudden heat.

“ȳdra daor!” Klaus commanded in his native tongue, batting the dragon out of the way. “Keligon bona.”

She recognized those words of reprimand at least – she really should had paid more attention in class. But how was fifteen-year-old Caroline to know she’d end up marrying a Targaryen, a House so ancient they were almost myth? Ironic, innit? twenty-year-old Caroline thought.

“Qeldlie,” she said slowly, and the dragon rears back and lopes gently behind her, growling something she can’t understand yet but hopes to one day.

Wait, hold up.

Was this dragon—

Was this dragon pushing her into Klaus?

“I hope it’s true about Targaryens being immune to fire,” she muttered when it’s clear the high heat in her cheeks can’t be politely ignored. Klaus laughed and buried his nose in her hair, breathing deeply.

“I’m immune to many things, love,” he said softly. “Apparently not to you though.”

She pulled out of his embrace and made a face at him – and he shrugged, like he couldn’t help himself.

[scribbling-stiks]

Heart Strings - XI - America REALLY Doesn't Have a Good Feeling About This

The meeting starts normally enough, as normal as it is to see America sitting in his seat with a child on one side and Canada on the other.

'Who am I kidding? This is really weird.'

Russia snickers behind his hand and America shoots him a glare.

'Shut up, a**hole. Sometimes I just think loud.'

'*Sometimes?*'

'LOUD!'

America smirks seeing Russia wince. Russia glares at him playfully and America sticks out his tongue.

Canada elbows America and when America turns his attention, Canada looks at him with a smirk before passing a note written on a torn corner of one of the informational packets.

"*You flirting with Russia?*" the paper reads in Canadian french.

"He's my soulmate." America hurriedly writes in very small and swirly letters, and he's very quick to shove it under Canada's papers.

Canada pulls up the paper to read it and his eyes go wide.

"No s***," Canada mutters, eyes wide.

"Boys! What does that bloody paper say?" UK demands, trying to snatch the paper, a suspicious look on his face.

Both Canada and America get deer caught in headlights looks and Canada shoves the paper into his mouth.

"What paper?" Canada asks, putting on his best innocent look.

"Canada, open your mouth," UK demands, crossing his arms.

Canada swallows with a grimace before opening his mouth.

"See?" America says, raising an eyebrow, "what are you talking about?"

Then America looks up at hearing Russia trying to hide his laughter. America feels a mischievous spark and he smirks, but seeing Alaska looking up at him for guidance keeps him in his seat.

"But you clearly ripped off the corner of your paper."

"Well, actually, I did," America says with a smirk.

"Why the bloody h*** would you do that?" UK asks, clearly annoyed.

"I wanted a snack," America snarks back with a shrug.

UK sighs and shakes his head. Alaska giggles and America gives Canada a high five.

'*Do you want a snack?*'

America's eyes light up and he grins. He stares down at the table and ignores the confused look Canada gives him.

'Really? You could get me something to eat?'

'*I can get some chips if you like.*'

'Could you grab two bags please?'

Russia nods subtly at him and leaves.

'Wait, no. Three.'

'*Okay.*'

America sighs and stares down at the table until he gets a gentle smack on the back of the head.

"(You're staring down at the table like it's the love of your life. You gotta calm down before someone catches on,)" Canada signs quickly.

America swallows nervously and pulls at the collar of his shirt.

'Okay. Gotta calm down. Jeez.'

'I didn't realize I was being that obvious.'

Russia walks back into the room and drops a few bags in front of America and carries one with him back to his seat. America grins, handing a bag to Alaska and one to Canada, keeping the third for himself.

"Thank you!" America chirps, and he doesn't notice how Russia turns away, turning bright red with a hand over his mouth.

"Oh my God," Canada mumbles with a laugh, jabbing America in the ribs.

"Hey! Dixie does that enough!"

"Oh, hush. Look, he's is head over heels for you," Canada says, waving to Russia.

America averts his eyes and tries to push back the heat filling his face.

"He is not," America argues quietly, crossing his arms with a scowl.

"He is too!" Canada whisper-yells.

America rolls his eyes.

'Bulls***.'

'Soulmates could be platonic too.'

'There is no f***ing way he likes me.'

'Canada is probably just f***ing with me.'

'Again.'

'Don't wanna make Russia uncomfortable.'

'Can't risk ruining any chance at being friends.'

America looks down. The thoughts about it made him feel a little down, but he decides to ignore it the best he can. He begins to shove chips into his mouth as a distraction. He also avoids Russia's concerned look.

'*Are you upset?*'

'I'm okay.'

America can feel Russia's worry and blushes.

'Don't worry about me.'

Russia nods a little before he begins to order the papers and passing them out.

America can't help the warm feelings that fill his stomach when he sees Russia hand Alaska some coloring pages and crayons.

Alaska colors the papers, humming happily and kicking her feet.

"Would you like to introduce our new little guest?" UN asks, pointing to Alaska.

"She's mine," America replies shortly.

UN rolls her eyes and looks to Russia.

"Have you approved of this arrangement?"

"Yes," Russia replies with an affirmative nod and a hardened look.

America smiles and averts his eyes, covering his face.

"You're blushing at his b*tch face," Canada whispers.

"Shut up!" America hisses.

'Don't make this worse!'

Then, a sudden feeling of dread hits America in the chest.

'Something's wrong.'

America and Russia make eye contact, and America sees the mirroring dread in Russia's eyes.

Russia began to survey the areas outside the windows, and America loops an arm around Alaska's shoulders.

America tries to ignore the anxiety the best he could but finds himself continuously scanning the room and doors.

Then, there is knocking on the door. America's eyes fly to the door and the frame rattles.

Russia gets up to open it.

'This isn't a good idea.'

'*What else should I do?*'

America watches carefully as Russia pulls open the door. A face he'd hoped to never see again tries to force himself into the room. Russia reacts immediately and shoves the guy back.

"Who are you?" Russia demands, his voice deep and demanding

If America had been any less terrified, he would've noticed the pleasant shiver running down his spine at Russia's tone.

The man cackles in an all to familiar-sounding tone, though America can't remember if he had ever heard it before.

America hands Alaska's hand to Canada.

"Watch her," America hisses under his breath.

Canada nods and takes Alaska's hand and backs up toward a supply closet. America hurries to Russia's side and sees Russia wrestling a shotgun away from the hands of a flag America never wanted to see again.

As soon as the figure spots America, he stops fighting and grins. Russia yanks the gun away as the figure starts talking.

"America, just the man I wanted to see," the figure says.

"Who the f*** are you?" America demands with a scowl.

"Aww, I was sure you would recognize me. After all, wasn't it your people who created me?"

America snarls and readies himself for a fight.

"Y'all can call me Confed," the figure, Confederacy, says with a grin.

America flinches at the pain that shoots through his head. Russia stands beside him, the newly acquired firearm in his hands.

"I'm sure you'd love to see who I have with me," Confederacy says.

"What the f*** did you do?" America growls.

Confederacy reaches behind him and yanks a frazzled-looking South Carolina into the room by his hair.

America's heart drops into his feet.

"Scar!" America shouts, taking a long step toward the state.

"Uh uh uh," Confederacy says, bringing a knife to South Carolina's neck, "not so fast."

"Let go of him!" America demands, feeling helpless. So close, yet unable to do anything.

"Come any closer, I take his head."

"Dad, help me," South Carolina mouths.

"Let him go," America commands.

"Oh, that's gonna be a trade," Confederacy says flippantly.

"Do anything you want with me, but don't touch my kids," America says, standing.

America feels Russia's discontent immediately.

'*What are you doing?!*'

A smile appears on Confederacy's face.

'He's a state. I can't let him get hurt.'

Russia stands by, and America almost feels back at how bothered Russia feels. Even still, Russia doesn't argue.

"Oh, it's not you I'm looking for."

"Then what do you want?!"

"Daddy?" Alaska calls.

'NO!'

"Oh! We have another youngin here, huh?"

Alaska flies to behind America's leg.

America feels his fear wash over him.

'Don't touch her.'

Russia stands at his other side, blocking Alaska from view.

Then America feels the barrel of a gun hit the back of his head.

'S***.'

~

Next

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Table of Contents

[pokeheadcannons97]

Due to now knowing rules, can I request bede with a s/o who has a (f) meowstic not liking the relationship, and constantly getting in the way? Please and thank you!

I’m so sorry this took so long!!!! I really loved this ask! Thank you!!!!! 

               Bede had been overjoyed to receive your invitation of a day together in Circhester. The weather forecasted clear skies with a chance of seeing the aurora in the later hours of the night. He had a full itinerary of the places where the two of you should head to, to full enjoy your rare uninterrupted day together.

               You had been busy with studies at your local college, completely swamped with schoolwork from the full sets of classes that you were currently taking. When you had a day off, he was busy with the onset of challengers at the gym. When he had a day off, you were occupied with homework and studying. Both of you had responsibilities that you couldn’t stray away from, so when the two of you both had a day off that lined up together, you decided to make the most of it.

               Bede had arrived at the meeting spot early, he glanced up at the park clock which read a quarter to ten. The snow piled on the top of it as it ticked away quietly in the rush of cars and people in downtown Circhester.

               He spotted a flower shoppe a few buildings down, an idea popping into his head.

—–

He handed the money to clerk as he told him which kinds of flowers to put into the bundle. Once picked and arranged he then chose a f/c ribbon to tie around in a large bow around the stems.

He carefully took the arrangement into his hands. “These look absolutely splendid, thank you.” He told the older shop owner who gave him a warm smile in return.

 “Anytime kiddo, it’s not everyday that I get to work on an arrangement for a gym leader.” He replied with a hearty chuckle, wiping the trimmings into a waste basket below. “Let alone for one that’s going on a date.”

 The blond blinked rapidly, his grasp on the flowers growing tighter.  “Who said anything about it being a date?”

The man let out another chuckle, louder this time. “Oh please son, I’ve been in this business for many years, I know what a fella that’s about to go on a date looks like. You may be a gym leader but you’re still a youngin. Your face is about as red as these roses over here.” He gestured to the big, uncut rose stems he was lining up on his worktable.

Bede was about to protest about how rude it was to assume things when the owner spoke up again. “If you want to have a good look at the aurora tonight, I’d suggest heading up towards the gym. With you being a gym leader, Melony should be able to let you two watch from the roof on top there.” He gave the young boy a wink. “Just a suggestion from an old geezer like me.”

The boy looked down at the bouquet in his hands, then back up to the shop owner. He gave a slight swallow as he tried to make the redness of his cheeks go down. “I’ll see about it, thank you for the advice.” He raised the flowers up a little. “And the arrangement, I’m sure they’ll love it.”

The man gave a light hum in approval. “Take care kiddo.”

Bede walked back to the meet up spot, his pink boots crunching the freshly fallen snow below. It was embarrassing to be so easily read by a stranger. He was usually so used to having the upper hand, to have control of the situation… except when it came to you. You made him a mess, and only you could. Why else would he get these flowers fo-?

“Beeeeeeedeeeee!!”

He looked up from his embarrassing thoughts to see you running from the station over towards him. Your hair was in all sorts of disarray as it stuck out in multiple places under your toboggin.

“You’re here early! If I would’ve known that, I’d catch the earlier train!” You told him while catching your breathe.

Bede gave a light chuckle, and genuine smile. He tucked the unruly strands back into place, fixing your scarf in the process. “Then there wouldn’t be a need for a meet up time, besides, I didn’t wait that long.” He placed the flowers out into your hands. “I used that time wisely though, no need to worry.”

You gave a loud gasp, your cheeks flooding with color. “Bedey! You shouldn’t have!” You marveled at the arrangement in your hands, smoothing a finger over the big bow. “These are gorgeous! And you even got my favorite!”

You leaned forward to give him a sweet kiss on his lips, your other hand that wasn’t holding the arrangement found it’s way to his cheek. “You’re the sweetest ever, thank you.”

Bede’s face flushed himself, but the smile remained on his lips, nonetheless. “I’m glad you like them.” He was about to lean in for another kiss when he felt something nudging in between the two of you.

He looked down and his face immediately fell. “Ah…hello Mochi.”

Mochi was your Meowstic, quite a docile natured female Meowstic usually. She had been your partner Pokemon since you were in middle school. The two of you went everywhere together, and she rarely left your side. Even for such intimate things as a date, much to Bede’s displeasure.

“Mochi! I thought you wanted to nap in your pokeball, silly girl!” You tutted at her, crouching down to your knees to give her head a firm pat, smoothing out the glossy fur.

Mochi leaned her head into your hand a mewed lovingly, her tail swishing back and forth. “Meeeeowwws~”

Bede also reached down to give her a pet, but she stopped him with one of her ears, and eyed him with distain.

“Alright alright, I know they give the best pets anyways.” Bede replied and retracted his hand. “So, do you wanna head out to that café?”

You gave him an excited nod. “Yes! I’m starving!” Your Meowstic purred in agreement, wrapping her tail around your leg. “Maybe they have some sweets that you’ll like Mochi.” You beamed at the psychic pokemon.

‘Wonderful…’ The gym leader though, stuffing a hand into his pocket, and smoothing his curls out with his other. ‘A plus one that absolutely loathes me.’

The day went by exactly as Bede had thought it would, after the new addition.

At the café while the two of you were eating your lunch, Mochi had levitated the spoon out of Bede’s mouth and plopped it down into his bowl of tomato bisque. Which in turn splattered rich red tomato stains all over his cardigan that he just had dry cleaned.

At the theatre, when he had grabbed your hand thinking it was yours, it was in fact Mochi’s who had taken your lap as her seat and swatted at him every time he even attempted to touch you. Eating all the popcorn that he had bought for the two of you. When he had leaned in for a kiss, he was met with a powerful scratch from a shadow claw.

During shopping at the local clothing shoppe, by some odd twist of fate the store was out of all outfits that Bede had taken a liking to, that were in his size. The store owner was even more so confused and repeatedly apologized to Bede and swearing up and down he would figure out why.

The clothes were found in the shoppe’s employees bathroom, tore to literal shreds. You two never went back. 

By the time night had fallen, Bede was beyond exhausted. At every turn and attempt that he had made to be close to you, Mochi had intervened.

She even hacked up a hairball while you two were holding hands on your walk by the water outside of town. Smirking towards Bede as you coddled her and were patting her back.

The two of you had arrived at the gym, snacks and drinks bought before hand to make it more of a leisurely picnic while watching the aurora on top of the gym at the shop owners’ suggestion.

Melony was more than happy to let the two of you use the roof of her gym for your date. Giving you a big warm hug in the process and fixing your hair back into place like a mother would do. She even suggested to use the gym challenge as a sort of couple’s activity.

While Bede insisted that was a bad idea, you were all up for it. Practically grabbing the tongs out of Melony’s hands in excitement.

Bede glanced towards Mochi who sneered at him with her arms crossed, tail swishing back and forth. He gave a sigh, his shoulder’s slumping in tandem. “Let’s do it…”

—-

The three of you cleared the first two levels with ease, you clapping your hands together in happiness and exclaimed loudly. “This was such a good idea! We haven’t even fell once!”

Meowstic mewed loudly with you, raising her hands in the air, sharing your excitement.

Bede watched in amusement and tugged his scarf closer to his body. It was rather easy to clear these levels with Meowstic’s superb sense of hearing. She had maneuvered the three of them through each hidden pitfall carefully. Not allowing any harm to come to you, or him.

Though he knew that if she had her way, he would be underneath the ice time after time.

You marched forward with her to begin the next level of the challenge, when you heard the whirring of machines all around you.

Mist, and thick fog began to emit from the fans up on the gym’s ceiling. It quickly settled down upon the three of you, and obscured the previously clear sight in front of you into a dense, icy haze.

You gave a slight shudder; the room grew even colder when those fans were turned on. “N-Now we can’t see?! This just keeps getting cooler and cooler!” you said eagerly and turned around to Bede. “Isn’t this the absolute best sweetie? We’re gonna clear this next one so quick, we’re gonna be faster than a Snorlax chasing lunch!”

Bede laughed at your childlike behavior, giving you a pat on the head before Mochi could swat him away. “We’d better hurry, but we gotta be extra careful, okay?” He reminded you and you nodded at him in response.

The three of you began to carefully trek the unsteady floor in front of you. Mochi had her ears up in full concentration, using her psychic power to help lead her away from the multiple traps that lay hidden underneath the ice. And all was going well up until the end.

With what seemed like a clear few steps away from the finish line, Mochi had gotten overly excited in wanting to beat Bede, she ran right over the final trap on the floor.

The ice began cracking under her small feet and she let out a small squeak as she fully expected to hit the lightly padded floor below.

…

But it never came.

The Pokemon cautiously opened one of her red eyes to peer at the pink cardigan that was previously stained by her with tomato bisque. The pokemon then fixed her gaze up to Bede who had managed to catch her in time to cushion the fall from above.

The gym leader groaned slightly, using on hand to prop himself and the Meowstic up. The other he used to rub his now slightly aching back. “Ugh…”

Mochi continued to stare, bewildered at Bede’s actions. The two of them didn’t get along, the pokemon didn’t agree with the relationship because she was highly critical of anyone that came close to her trainer. Let alone in intimate terms such as dating.

But if they didn’t get along, why did he save her?

Mochi mewed softly to Bede. “Murr?”

Violet eyes met with red ones and Bede offered Mochi a smile. “Hey, are you hurt?”

The pokemon shook her head and then nuzzled against his hand softly. “Meow…stic.”

The two of them looked up as they heard frantic footsteps.

“Bede! Mochi! Are you two alright?” You were on your hands and knees from above looking down with a concerned expression on your face.  

Bede gave a thumbs up and a smile, your Meowstic cheering loudly.

After helping Mochi and Bede up out of the hidden trap, you all found an alternative route to the finish line, and successfully finished the challenge.

Melony was waiting at the end to offer her congratulations, and the key to the roof as a “prize”.

You gave another cheer, wrapping your arms around Bede and pulling him into a kiss.

Bede kissed back happily and halfway expected to be interrupted. But he wasn’t.

After he pulled away from you, he peered down towards Mochi who was standing there quietly, looking away from the two of you with her paws together in front of her. Oddly quiet, and non-mischievous for once in her life.

The leader was confused at the Pokemon, but didn’t say anything as the three made their way up to the roof. As they arrived, the new gush of cold air hit everyone at once, causing a shiver to run through each of them simultaneously.

“Let’s get that blanket out yeah?” you suggested, wrapping your hands over your chilled arms.

When Bede had finished laying out the blanket on the cold roof’s floor, and another heavier blanket that quickly followed. You practically launched yourself under it’s cozy embrace and held it open for himself and Mochi to join into.

You dug into your backpack and pulled out several snacks and a thermos full of apple cider and poured your Meowstic some first. She in turn took a large sip and cooed appreciatively.

You then offered Bede a glass of his own, then settled in next to him. Mochi right in the middle of you two.

Once the three of you were comfortable it wasn’t long until a familiar streak of light made its way onto the sky, casting colors from pale blue to florescent pink all through the nighttime sky.

    You let out another gasp, while taking pictures with your rotom phone, totally entranced.

     Bede felt a small weight against his knee as Mochi settled herself next to him and licked at her paw to rub against her face to rid it of the sweet cider she had previously drank earlier. He wrapped a arm around you and petted your Meowstic’s fur softly, listening to her coos of delight.

    The day might not had gone as Bede originally planned, but it did end on a sweeter note. And that he was grateful for.

[uzumaki-rebellion]

“Stark’s New Intern” Chp. 13

Summary: Erik works the first day of the Stark Expo and makes a discovery...

"The most important time in history is, now, the present So count your blessings cause time can't define the essence But you stressin over time and you follow the Roman calendar These people into cloning like Gattaca, you can bet They tryin to lock you down like Attica, the African diaspora Represents strength in numbers, a giant can't slumber forever…"

Black Star—"K.O.S. (Determination)"

"When can we meet Tony Stark?"

The chunky white girl with the dark goth hair and stank attitude glared at Erik as he stood before a podium giving the introductory remarks to the two hundred plus fourth through sixth-grade students who were attending the morning children's track of the Stark Expo.

Erik squared his shoulders and glared back at her.

"It's rude to interrupt someone's speech without raising your hand when they are explaining what is about to happen. How about you wait and let me finish?"

The girl's lips curled up in surprise and she looked around as the other children snickered at her. She rolled her eyes at Erik and folded her arms.

"Now…to finish my remarks, I'd like to say that the Children's Expo is going to be filled with various activities that you can fully choose to participate in throughout the day. Lunch will be at twelve-thirty and provided for all of you inside the Learning Annex tent located right next to the convention center…what is it now?"

The same white girl raised her hand and Erik could hear a few exasperated sighs coming from some of the other kids there.

"Will there be gluten-free food provided, because—"

"Did your parents fill out the registration form and check off gluten-free?"

"Yes—"

"Then why are you wasting our time asking about it?"

"I just want to make sure—"

"We are providing gluten-free, vegan, vegetarian, non-processed, locally sourced foods for those with dietary concerns. Anything else?"

Erik's lips curled into a scowl and a little Black girl with two tiny braids laughed out loud at his expression and quickly covered her mouth when he glanced over at her. She was the same girl that the chunky white girl had talked over at the beginning of Erik's presentation. He softened his expression at her and she visibly relaxed and dropped her hands on her lap.

He swiped his hand on his touchpad and the projected image floating behind him changed to a map of the expo space.

"Restrooms are located by following the blues lines on the walls and if you have questions or concerns, we have adult guides throughout the expo halls that can help you at any time…"

The same problem child's hand flew up.

"Stand up," Erik barked at the annoying girl.

The girl stood up, her lips tight, and her eyes still challenging him.

"What's your name?" he asked.

"Katy—"

"Everyone, Katy wants some attention right now. She's been asking questions that could be answered at the end of my little talk. She's spent time whispering to people around her and being a distraction, and she has also been rude to many of you. So, Katy, the floor is now yours, we'll all just sit here and give you all the attention you want."

Erik stepped away from the podium and held his hands clasped in front of his waist.

The children stared at the girl and Katy's face, that had once been smug, slowly drained. His mother who had been a school teacher would've handled the girl a lot better, but Erik knew this type of child. He went to school with a lot of them like her. So used to being considered smart, gifted, and "special" all their life that they tended to become conceited and grew a holier-than-thou ass-hole mentality. If there was a high-income family attached behind them, they were even worse. Katy had made fun of some of the other kids who had asked good questions by belittling them with comments meant to make them look stupid. Now Erik was making her look stupid.

"Can we get back to me giving everyone information now?"

Katy said nothing.

"Sit down then," he said.

She plopped back down and he didn't hear a peep out of her for the rest of his presentation. At the end, he answered pertinent questions and released the youngins to adult handlers that matched the color-coded badges all the children wore. Forty minutes of talking, ten minutes sprinkled throughout with Katy interrupting, and twenty minutes of Q & A already had him drained from being around kids the rest of the day. He expected to hear from Tony about Katy from some of the adult handlers in the room who helped with supervision, but he didn't care. Don't start none, won't be none is what his Mama taught him.

"Are you giving a tour Mr. Stevens?"

Erik turned to see Athena making a child-sounding voice.

"Thank God no," he said with a big grin on his face.

"My track is over and the high-schoolers are going to eat lunch now, so I have a break. What do you have next?" she said.

"The Track C group. Junior high. I thought the little kids would like graphics better but they seemed to come alive more when I just talked to them and ignored my pictures."

"You're good at talking. You get excited about what your explaining and its infectious."

"It doesn't feel that way."

He glanced around. No one was watching. He cozied up to her and put a hand around her waist.

"Can I come back over tonight?"

"Be mindful, Sir," she teased, pushing back from him.

He kissed her on her lips.

He'd been swimming in her pussy for three days straight and shit was so good she had him daydreaming about her while he worked with the expo crew team to set up. He didn't even try to be discreet with her anymore because she had him hooked. She glanced around then rubbed up against him, letting her lips rest on his lush mouth.

"Could I borrow him for a second? Or do you need to hump his leg?"

Giselle stood with a palm pad in one hand and a bunch of teen badges in the other.

Athena stepped back from Erik.

"These are some badges for a few attendees who just arrived and weren't able to pick these up downstairs."

Erik took the badges from her. "You can pass them out at the beginning of your presentation. If there are some left because the attendees didn't show up, I'll take them back for tomorrow. We found some people trying to sell these outside."

"Alright," he said.

"Do us all a favor, try to stay professional and stop pawing at each other," Giselle snapped.

Athena rolled her eyes.

"I'll see you tonight, Erik," Athena said walking away.

Erik watched her swing her big hips in her tight ass slacks and he couldn't help but make a sound of approval under his breath. That was enough to annoy Giselle and she sucked her teeth.

"Don't be mad. I was tryna get with you, but you turned me down."

She ignored him and took her spot near the back of the room waiting for Erik's next session to start.

She cut her eyes at him.

"Be pissed at yourself…"

She crossed her legs and Erik noticed the deep split in her skirt and the sexy heels on her feet. Damn, she could still get it. He sat next to her. Giselle's fingers flew over her touchpad.

"I'll be professional, okay? Thanks for reminding me."

He patted her thigh and she moved her legs away from him.

"You plan on being mad at me all day?"

"I'm not mad at you."

"Jealous?"

"Of what?"

"Athena and me. You know we smashing."

"That's your business. No one needs to see it here is the point."

Giselle was cute when she was annoyed. The pout on her face was actually kind of sexy to him.

A surge of junior-high aged attendees filed into the space snagging seats. Erik stood up and headed to the podium. Checking his watch, Erik started promptly.

The junior high track was straight fire. The students were attentive, laughed at a lot of the graphics he put together for them meant to add humor to science and technology, and his Q & A session went over the allotted time because so many young people wanted to stay behind and talk to him. He had to finally type up his email and give it to the tons of questions that had to go unanswered. So many bodies flocked around him vying for his time. Giselle had to come rescue him, guiding him away from the crowd.

"They got you acting like Pepper," he joked.

"They bum-rushed you like you were Tony," Giselle said.

Her voice was pleasant. Actually friendly. He regarded her face with curiosity.

"You sound impressed."

"Actually, I was. You were great."

"Just great?"

"Okay…okay…that was a fantastic session."

"Ooh, fantastic. I leveled up in your eyes."

The expression on her face made her look open to him.

"You had lunch yet? I'm going to grab a bite and then I have to head over to the mini-lab and work there for two hours."

"No, I just had a latte earlier."

"Let's go eat…unless you have to go to your next station."

"I can eat."

He was surprised she agreed to go with him.

He steered her to the lunch pavilion in the tent outside the convention center, and they fixed themselves hearty plates of fancy catered food. They sat outside the tent on the steps of the convention building and ate their fill.

"Ah vitamin D," Giselle sighed, holding back her face to the sun when they were done eating.

She looked beautiful with her eyes closed, her lips slightly parted, and her hair resting on her shoulder. Erik ate his food while watching her sunbathe. He was still feeling her and didn't know how to get past her reticence toward him. She must've felt his eyes on her because her lids raised up slowly and for a second, Erik was lost in her face. He wanted to kiss her again and leaned forward toward her…and she was letting him.

"Hey, Devika!" Erik said pulling back from Giselle when his peripheral caught sight of her.

Tony's personal secretary strolled past carrying two bags.

"You need help?"

Erik threw away his empty plate and stepped to Devika. He took the bags from her.

"Thanks, Erik. That was a struggle," Devika said.

Her eyes took in Giselle.

"How's it going?" she asked.

"Good. I have to head over to the mini-lab. Where do you need to take these?" he asked.

"You're in luck, these actually need to go to the lab. The morning crew forgot to take these. Extra sample slides and tubes."

"Cool. I'ma head out. Holla at me later?"

His eyes gazed at Giselle.

"Maybe."

He grinned and walked with Devika.

"Are you two dating?"

"Me and Giselle? I wish."

"She doesn't like you?"

"I think she does, but she has this thing about being professional and not fraternizing while working together. Stupid."

"It's not stupid, Erik. Sometimes mixing business and pleasure backfires. I made that mistake once…"

Devika's eyes darted away from his and they both saw Tony walking toward them. Stark's eyes took in Devika and Erik knew immediately who she was talking about.

"Stevens," Tony said.

"I'm on top of stuff."

"I know you are. Lab?" he said pointing the bags.

"Yeah."

"I'll head over with you. I have a free twenty minutes so I'll show a little face…Devika I need to cancel dinner with Hartzel and Cook tonight."

"This is the third time—"

"I know. I just don't have the energy for those guys right now."

Tony walked ahead of them and Erik kept up with the bags. Devika pulled out a tablet and canceled Tony's evening plans.

The mini-lab was a replica of one of Stark Industries' actual working labs. It gave students the opportunity to see real-world applications with hands-on experience first-hand. Tony swept in to the usual fanfare and Erik handed off the lab supplies to another intern.

Erik walked around the finished lab and was shocked to see a microscope that he wanted to use back in L.A. but had no private access to. There was also other equipment he needed to be able to test the vibranium. The irony. The shit he needed but couldn't use in Los Angeles was right in front of him for little kids to play with.

Erik walked over to Samira the lab coordinator.

"Is there an evening shift?" he asked.

Samira glanced at her tablet and swiped the screen a few times.

"I have enough people, but if you want to hang out—"

"Yeah, put me on the list," he said while calculating what he would need to be able to run a discreet experiment out in the open.

###

Erik slipped past Samira and three other interns as they shut down the mini-lab for the night. He volunteered to power down all the science equipment, clean them, and pre-set them for Saturday morning so Samira and company could go eat dinner and take off early.

The vibranium was in his pocket and he moved to the back of the lab and snagged the tools he needed to take a sample of the metal and test it. He needed to be in and out of the convention center by ten and it was already seven at night. Three hours to do as much as he could to learn the properties of the metal. He would have to use episcopic illumination carefully. He had several options to choose from, so he opted to use crossed polarizing filters first until he saw that the amount of equipment in the lab was extensive enough to go full out. He decided to go with a differential interference contrast using unstained samples of the vibranium. Time was of the essence.

He worked fast and printed up results as they came, erasing any traces of his use of the equipment, including printouts of data. He felt jumpy as he heard footsteps move back and forth in the front of the entrance.

By the time he collected what data he could in the amount of time that he had, Erik was already strolling to his hotel room with his head full of wonder. Vibranium was not from earth. It had no trace of any elements found on the planet he walked on. His father and his people had been using something literally from outside of the world. The discovery actually made his hands shake as he took out his room keycard. He was excited. Dumbfounded. Even more curious. Aroused in a way that made his skin tingle.

He opened his door and across the hall, Giselle opened her door and put an empty room service tray on the ground.

Dressed in a hotel robe, her eyes met his as she stood up.

"You're back late," she said, a sly smile on her face.

Erik walked over to her door and slipped his left hand behind her neck and his right hand around her waist. Giselle's eyes had that same look she gave him at lunch, and when he crashed his lips on hers, he knew he wasn't leaving her until what needed to be done was done.

Chapter 14 HERE

###

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[hdgaywriting]

Eighth Year - Drarry Fic

Part One:

           Harry woke up to the smell of bacon and the soft coos of Pigwidgeon. It had been months now that he could wake up relaxed, easing into the routine of the Weasleys. After all he'd been through, the consistency felt nice. He stretched his arms and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before putting on his glasses and blinking the world into a sharp image. Glancing around the room, he noticed that Ron was already awake, given his bed was an empty lump of sheets. This was the first time all summer that Ron had gotten up before Harry, and he suspected it was due to the occasion – their return to Hogwarts.

Harry and his best friends had honestly not been anticipating living through the war, but eventually they stopped being able to dodge the question of what comes next. Harry had immediately been offered a job as an auror following Voldemort's downfall, and Ron thought he was going to land some job at the Ministry. It was Hermione that proposed the trio go back to schooling.

"If you think about it, we've only completed six years," she'd said. The two boys, her boys, were still in a post-war stupor then, not willing to dwell on their days at Hogwarts quite yet.

"Hermione," Ron said, through a mouthful of lunch, "we're 18 now. We're too old for Hogwarts. Besides, what can they teach us that we don't already know?"

"Lots of things, Ronald," Hermione said with a stubborn edge in her voice. "After all the insanity that happened, we deserve a chance to be normal students." She looked at Harry for defense, but he was too stunned with the flood of emotion to say anything, so she continued. "Refinement. New spells. New potions. You're never too old to learn. Besides, after Voldemort's downfall, they're bound to teach students differently. The whole curriculum will be different and I don't want to miss out!"

Harry's breath hitched imperceptibly when Hermione said Voldemort's name. Not because he was scared – he hadn't been scared of saying Voldemort's name in years – but because Hermione said it so boldly. In a way, it was comforting. It served as another reminder that he really was gone.

When he looked up, he caught Hermione's gaze. She had a sparkle in her eye talking about Hogwarts and the idea of going back. He mulled over the thought of an eighth year, and after a bit of a back and forth with Ron, they eventually had decided to enroll at Hogwarts one last time.

He walked into the bright kitchen as he did every morning. Ginny walked over to Harry and pecked him on the cheek. "Morning sweetheart," she sang. Ginny was offended when Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had asked her if she'd be returning. She practically yelled that obviously she was, then insisted the conversation end there. That was something that always impressed Harry about his fiery girlfriend – her unabashed way of standing up for herself. It was a skill she grew into over the past few years, and it made Harry's heart skip a beat every time she'd stride over to him and grab him boldly by the shoulders to plant a kiss on his mouth.

Ron was sitting on the counter, leaning his chin onto Hermione's head, who was standing between his legs. His hands carelessly rested at her hip. When Hermione lifted her gaze from the morning's issue of The Daily Prophet, she gave Harry a soft smile.

"Oy, Harry!" Ron exclaimed with a bit of devilish excitement. "We made the paper!"

Harry looked surprise, and grabbed it from Hermione's hands.

"Hey!" she quipped.

"Sorry," Harry muttered as he thumbed through the black and white pages and moving pictures. He came across the article Ron was talking about. Golden Trio Start Final Term at Hogwarts – Again! the paper read. Harry rolled his eyes. He shoved the paper back at Hermione and sat down, not wanting to read what it said. He had hoped that defeating Voldemort would be the end to his fame. He thought he'd be able to settle down with Ginny and live a nice life in peace.

"The Golden Trio," Harry said, "I mean, c'mon." The nickname referred to him, Hermione, and Ron, and was becoming a popular phrase around Britain.

"At least they're finally getting recognition," he heard Ginny lament. And he knew she was right. For so long it had been Harry vs. the world, so some solidarity felt nice.

"It's just cheesy," he said as he chomped on a piece of bacon.

Harry watched different Weasleys float in and out of the kitchen as the morning progressed. He was definitely going to miss it here. The Weasleys were the family he never had but always wanted. The way they absorbed and protected people like him and Hermione was what made them some of his favorite people. All summer he'd gotten to know the eldest Weasley children, too. Bill, and his wife Fleur decided to travel around the world for a while after the Battle of Hogwarts, and in-between each trip they'd spend a couple weeks with their family. Charlie moved back home for a while too, before agreeing (or being bullied into) getting a flat with Percy. But Percy had proved to be so insufferable, that Charlie visited enough to make it seem as if he'd never left. He'd come in, flopping onto the couch and complaining about "our tight-ass prat of a brother, lecturing me about chores and informing me about the inner-workings of the Ministry."

It was hard for Charlie to walk back into life at the Weasleys because he'd been in Romania so long. Charlie was an independent. He refused to be reined in. He wore all black all the time, painted his nails, and sometimes sported a dangly earring. He'd even had a secret tattoo on his back of a dragon breathing fire. It was charmed so that the dragon flew around between his shoulder blades.

But besides the commentary on his style choices, Charlie struggled with Percy's betrayal and Fred's death. They all did, of course, but besides George and Mrs. Weasley, Charlie seemed to have the most grief. He wished he had never gone to Romania, he confessed to Harry one night when he was wine drunk. Harry told him he didn't mean it, but Charlie insisted and tears welled in his eyes. That was the first time Harry had ever thought any boy was pretty. The way the grief bubbled up into his face like a delicate thing Charlie wasn't used to after having spent so long with gritty dragons stood out.

It was with Charlie that Harry opened up to about his nerves returning to Hogwarts. About how sad it made him, in a way. It wasn't the Hogwarts he fell in love with at age 11. This was a post-war Hogwarts, where Dumbledore and Snape and Lupin and Fred would never step foot in again. It's where he faced Voldemort for the last time, and where so many people had died. He wanted so desperately to relive the magic of boating across the lake and McGonagall smiling at him when he'd been sorted Gryffindor. He wanted the stupid late-night adventures with Ron and Hermione. He wanted the Hogwarts that didn't put him in peril.

McGonagall was now the headmaster, and it was she who permitted the Golden Trio to return for a final year. She said it was her duty as an educator to allow them the full extent of a Hogwarts Education, but Harry suspected she'd had a soft spot for them. When Hermione sent her an owl, she'd told McGonagall that the three of them needed accommodations of sorts, since they would not be the typical students. McGonagall's reply came the next day. She was in agreement that matriculation would be different, and that they could expect any resources for maintaining optimal mental health, first pick of class schedule, access to a special dormitory that was being built for eighth year students, and the promise to negotiate any other contingencies. She also offered them enrollment in a new class taught by an incoming professor for those with advanced skill in combative magic and magical defense. She included that what they should NOT expect was leniency in grading, pity, special privileges, or any other pish posh of the sort.

Ron and Harry were immediately thrilled, but Hermione pouted.

"I'm writing back," she had said.

"Why?" Harry questioned as she furiously scribbled with a fresh quill.

"Because I want to be re-instated as Head Girl," Hermione said, "and I want access to the restricted section of the library."

Ron laughed warmly from his chest. "Tell her, love." In the end, Hermione (mostly) got her way. McGonagall said that she could co-Head Girl, but giving her the sole title would be unfair to the incoming student. Additionally, the restricted section of the library would soon be rid of all dangerous dark magic books and then open to all students with approval from the librarian.

It seemed so soon after Harry's discovery of the headline of the news that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came bustling into the room saying that it was time for them to get going to King's Cross. The lot of them set off in just as much of a messy haste as ever.

Walking into King's Cross was surreal. Arthur and Molly were the first to press through the brick wall to get to Platform 9 and three quarters. Following them was Charlie, followed closely by Percy, then Ron and Hermione. Harry stood with Ginny's hand wrapped in his. He absentmindedly rubbed his thumb against her fingers.

"Ready for the Hogwarts Express?" Ginny said, eyes twinkling. Harry raised her hand to his lips and kissed it before saying of course. Ginny rushed through with zero fear. She disappeared in a flash of red hair.

After Harry dipped through he found the platform to be more familiar than he thought it would be. The dozens of families wrapping their kids in their arms made him smile almost as much as the youngins waving with their heads poking out through the windows. In a way he felt too old to be going back to school, but in a different, more prominent way, he felt the excitement and potential of Hogwarts filling him.

The train was smooth as it started speeding down the tracks. Ginny was waving goodbye to her brothers and parents, and Ron and Hermione were talking in quiet voices. Harry didn't want to interrupt, so he decided after a while to go explore the cabins and search for some familiar faces. Now that he thought about it, he realized all summer he'd just assumed he and his best friends were the only eighth years returning to Hogwarts, but he didn't actually know.

Before long he had traipsed up and down several cabins, seeing nobody from his original class. He was about to give up when a long shimmer of blonde, wavy hair caught his attention. He rushed up to the girl and plopped down in front of her.

"Oh, hello, Harry," Luna said in a sweet voice. "How are you?" She spoke softly just as she always had, like nothing changed.

"I'm fine, Luna, and you?" He paused for a moment before continuing. "It is so good to see you. Hermione and Ron are here as well."

She smiled widely. "That's lovely!" she said. "Are you lot staying in the new dormitory? It's a small one near where the bridge used to be. You know, the one Seamus blew up?" her wide eyes bore into him. Harry had a painful jolt when she talked about the destruction from the Battle of Hogwarts, but nodded and smiled through it.

"Oy, is Neville here?" he said.

"No," Luna said nonchalantly. "He's been given a job at a magical plant greenhouse. He really loves it. He brings my dad and me organic dirigible fruit and all sorts of magical plants to snack on. He says the mulch helps his head stay clear." The way Luna talked was as if she was reporting information. Which made sense, Harry thought, consider her dad was a journalist with his own magazine. "Harry," Luna said, snapping him out of his thoughts, "remember to sweep for nargles. They've really been prominent this year." She flipped her pink and blue glasses down from her forehead and gave him another wide smile.

"Sure thing, Luna" Harry said as he stood up. "We'll get lunch sometime." His mind was still with Luna when he ran into the last person he wanted to see.

Draco Malfoy was staring Harry down.