#i'm like potentially getting fired from work next week maybe if i fail

[duoduotian]

tfw everyone has a different way to mark the thing as done and i have to rmb everyone's way depending on who's assessing me next week . um .

[randomshyperson]

The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - Chapter 13 - The Sixth Year (Part Three)

My dear friend @abimess, I keep stealing your gifs and making updates without telling you. I hope you never get tired of it.

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies. || Chapter Warnings: Magical torture with minors, cursing, angst, ptsd, derogatory thoughts and behavior, dark magic.

Chapter Words: 8.486 K

A/N> Yes, I've gone for a month without warning anyone, and yes that might go on, but at least i'm near ending this (I'm already writing chapter 21). Once I'm finished, I'll just programe tumblr to upload them all for me because i'm lazy. I hope anyone like this yet, i don't even know what i'm doing anymore. Good reading!

Series Masterlist ||  Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

Chapter 13 - Part XIII - The Sixth Year (Part Three)

Gossip really starts to irritate you when you go to lunch after potions.

"You want to say something to me, girl?" You charge impatiently when you hear the giggles behind you again, coming from a group of students sitting at Ravenclaw's table.

The group turns around with wry smiles on their faces, and you notice the editions of the Daily Prophet in the hand of one of the boys. It is Hope Summers, your classmate, who speaks first:

"We're just sharing some theories, Stark." She says in a provocative tone. "Some of us find it an interesting coincidence that just now that Mephisto is back, you and Maximoff are losing control of magic."

You frown.

"What are you talking about?" you ask in surprise, referring to Wanda, but Hope thinks you want her to keep mocking you.

"It's just suspicious that no one knows what happened to you in that dungeon, or at the ministry of magic." Hope counters. "And now you two are blowing things up, and we have a dark wizard on the loose."

"Fuck you, Summmers." You curse as you stand up, leaving the girl in shock at your aggressiveness.

The same auror from the first day stands in front of you as you try to approach Slytherin's table.

"Students must respect..."

But you interrupted his speech with a loud shove that sent him staggering backwards, and drew the immediate attention of several people.

You were seeing red by now, the man's wry smile only making you more irritated.

He drew his wand, but so did you. And the room held its breath.

"Put your wand away, Miss Stark." Warned the auror angrily, but you didn't.

Wanda stood up as she noticed the confusion, rushing to reach you, but the auror put his arm in her way.

"Now, miss." He warned again, and you grunted in irritation.

"Get your hands off her." You retorted, feeling your body fever with hatred.

"Stark." The man said, his arm reaching down to push Wanda back, and you exploded.

You didn't even finish thinking about the spell, the magic exploding out of your wand.

The auror masterfully blocked it, and you dropped your wand to jump on top of him.

It was a confusion of shoving, other bigger students pulling you away from the man and he away from you.

" Never fucking touch her again!" You warned snorting in anger, Thor Odinson stopping you from jumping on the man's neck.

"I just pushed her away from the line of fire, you crazy bitch!" The auror retorted indignantly and angrily. "Go to the headmaster's office now!"

"Fuck you!"

Thor pulled you out of the hall as the crowd of students whistled in celebration, excited about the whole fight. The auror was too busy dissipating everyone to follow you.

"Hey, hothead, calm down." The blonde warned as he released the grip of you by the courtyard. You grunted angrily, wishing you could break something.

"Fuck this school, fuck that asshole." You complained aloud, as Thor looked at you curiously.

"You have quite a rage, Stark." He comments, and you grumble in irritation.

But Wanda catches up with you the next moment, and she looks even angrier than you.

"What the hell was that?" she asks and you roll your eyes, running your hands through your hair.

"I think you are going to be fine for now on." Thor comments, smiling at the thank you Wanda says to him before leaving you two alone.

"So?" Wanda insists, arms crossed. You bite the inside of your cheek as you look at her.

"What do you want me to say?" You retort angrily.

"You just started a fight for no reason! Again!" She accuses. "Only this time it was with a wizard who could kill you. I want to know what's going on!"

"I don't know, Wanda!" You exclaim angrily. "Why does everyone expect me to have answers? I don't know! Do you understand that? It feels like I'm going to explode in frustration any second, neither you or Gamora seem to get it. I don't understand what's happening to me!"

"Because you won't talk to us!" She shouts back, just as annoyed as you are. "You're pushing everyone away! Even me! We can't help you if you don't talk to us!"

You grunt impatiently, turning around. There was a strange throbbing in the back of your head, a strange whisper. Like a voice telling you that no one was telling you the truth, that your friends expected too much of you, that Wanda didn't care...

This last thought made you sob. Wanda softened her expression immediately, taking a step toward you and touching your shoulder, but you pulled away from her touch as if burned, wiping your tears away quickly.

"Leave me alone, Wanda." You mutter between teeth. She hesitates, raising her hand toward you again.

"Please."

"I need some time from you." You insist, pushing her hand away, and walking away.

A part of your brain is begging you to go back and make things right, but there is a cloud of anger and irritation that keeps you walking.

//-//-//-//-//

You roll over in bed in discomfort.

Nightmares. Again.

It has only been five days since you had your fight with Wanda, and you are getting worse every day.

With Summers' teasing, you end up noticing other things too.

How the school really found the theory that you and Wanda were somehow related to Mephisto, because the minister had covered up what happened in the dungeons and in the ministry, and everybody thought it was strange that two students were showing an increase in magical potential with the return of a dark wizard.

Unlike you, who were failing considerably in any simple execution of spells, Wanda was demonstrating exceptional abilities. Kaecilius was more than willing to make her the face of progress at Hogwarts, you heard the gossip about bringing in reporters to share the news of the new direction.

You know that the only reason Wanda hasn't come after you yet was because you're running away from her like the plague.

And you couldn't even explain why.

You were also blocking out your real health condition from her. Just like you two practiced during the summer.

Besides hiding this from Wanda, you have kept your friends away too, isolating yourself from everyone else in search of a little rest, only succeeding in taking a nap when you are running away between classes.

And the detentions with Kaecilius keep increasing as you skip classes.

You begin to consider learning to write with a different hand, just so the bruise has time to heal, but at this point you don't even care about the scar anymore.

"You really must like pain." Loki teases wryly as you sit in an empty room, waiting for the aurors' shift change again after your detention.

You don't ask him what he's doing on that floor again, and he doesn't ask why you haven't spoken to your friends in two weeks.

"Sure, that must be it." You joke back, massaging your injured hand.

He assumes a pensive expression for a second.

"Are you sure you haven't been cursed by someone?" He asks, causing you to frown in shock and confusion.

"Excuse me?"

He gives a little chuckle, settling himself better against the wall.

"Everyone's been talking about you being sick." He says. "I heard some of the Ravenclaw people theorize that you became a werewolf over the summer."

You laugh helplessly, massaging your temples lightly.

"I guarantee that's not it." You say making Loki smile.

"If you are sick for no reason, it could be a curse." He says. "I wouldn't be surprised, the way things are."

"But how do I find out if I've been cursed?"

Loki takes a thoughtful stance.

"I don't know." He says. "But I'm sure you can learn that in the no longer reserved session of the library."

You laugh at the joke, but soon you both return to silence. When that hallway's shift ends, Loki sighs, getting up and helping you to stand.

"Still can't perform spells?" He asks, already drawing his wand.

"Only if I want to blow things up." You scoff making him laugh.

"Fine, I'll enchant you." He says. When you are transparent, he looks at you with an amused expression. "See you next Saturday, troublemaker?

"Don't worry, I plan on skipping DADA, maybe I'll be here tomorrow." You retort in the same tone before turning to leave.

//-////-//-//-//-//

It takes three more days for Wanda to finally corner you.

You are skipping class in an empty room on the seventh floor, trying to doze off, and almost fall out of your chair with fright when the door opens and Wanda comes in, looking annoyed.

You grunt impatiently, without lifting your face from the desk.

"I told you I needed time." You complain, but tense up when you notice the tears in her eyes as she moves closer to sit at the table next to yours.

" You want to break up with me?" She asks in a whisper and you raise your head immediately, feeling your chest tighten.

"What? What are you talking about?"

Wanda gives a humorless laugh at your expression. "Why are you acting like this is an absurd idea? You've disappeared. You've been avoiding me, not even talking to me anymore."

You shake your head quickly, feeling the urge to cry.

"I don't want to break up with you." You say. "I..I would never want to be away from you."

"You just said you need time away from me." Wanda retorts with annoyance, and you feel your stomach clench as she sighs. "I don't know what's going on with us. And I miss you, but you won't let me near you."

You are exhausted. So you cry.

You rest your head on your arms, and let your sobs fill the silence, hoping that the tears will take this bad feeling away.

It's Wanda's gentle touch on your back that helps.

"Babe, tell me what's wrong." She whispers to you, her tone concerned.

It takes many minutes for you to calm down. But when you do, Wanda holds your hand, kneeling on the floor beside the chair you are in.

"I can't do magic." You breathlessly tell her from crying, "And I can't sleep. I've been sick for weeks, and I'm angry all the time. Healer Cho doesn't know what's wrong with me, but everyone at school seems to have a theory about it. I think I'm going to suffocate, Wanda. I'm messing everything up. Between us, between my family, and at school." You sob as you finish and Wanda shakes her head, her hand coming up to your cheek.

"Don't say that." She urges. "You didn't ruin anything. Hey, look at me. I love you. Your sisters love you, your friends love you. We'll figure out what's going on."

Wanda hugs you tight, and you sob, shaking.

You want to believe her words, so you push the intrusive thoughts away, and believe it.

//-//-//-//

Wanda takes you to a door in that same floor you two were before, but you have never seen that door until that moment.

And you are very surprised to realize that it is a bedroom.

"How...?" You ask confused as she closes the it.

"Welcome to the Room of Requirement." She says with a smile, pulling you by the hand around. "We hold our Avengers meetings here." She counters and you frown.

"In a bedroom? Interesting choice." You comment and she giggles.

"No, my love." She says. "That's how this room works. It is charmed to meet your needs. That's why I asked you to come in first."

"Oh, that's pretty cool." You say looking around. Wanda smiles at you, and then you both reach the bed. "The room thinks I have to sleep?"

"I do too." Wanda retorts, pushing your shoulders gently for you to sit on the bed. "Go on, nice dreams."

You hesitate. "You gonna leave me here alone?"

Wanda denies with her head, pointing to the chair that probably just magically appeared next to the bed. You frown.

"Can't you sleep in the bed with me?"

She giggles. "We don't have much time for you to sleep. If I lie down, you'll want to kiss me. So I'll be sitting in that armchair, studying as I should." She explains seriously, and you pout.

"Stupid rules." You grumble moving your hands up to her waist. "Lie down with me."

"Babe..."

"Please."

Wanda sighs, then nods. You smile, quickly removing your shoes as she does the same. You quickly adjust yourself on the bed, opening your arms for her to lie on top of you, and she gives a little giggle before doing so.

"Are you cozy, sweetheart?" You murmur against her hair, and Wanda squeezes her arms around you.

"Yeah, your boobs are good pillows." She teases, making you laugh with reddened cheeks.

Your eyes begin to heavy quickly, fatigue catching up with your body relaxed by the comfort of the moment.

"Go to sleep, babe." Wanda whispers. "I'll be here when you wake up."

You smile with your eyes closed, surrendering.

It's the best sleep you've had in weeks.

The problem is that as soon as you start to wake up again, you are feeling sick.

You touch the emptiness in the bed, mumbling softly. When you open your eyes you find Wanda sitting in the armchair, the darkhold in her lap.

"Damn it, Wanda, this book again." You complain in a hoarse voice, but she just sighs.

"Why the attitude?"

"I hate that book." You grumble sitting up in bed, massaging your face lightly. "Why do you keep reading it anyway?"

"It's interesting." She says, closing the item to look at you. "Agatha really told me a lot, but there are also things I didn't know."

"For example?"

Wanda bites her lips, appraising you.

"Scarlet witches are forged, for instance." She says and you frown in confusion. Wanda sighs. "Many powerful witches, born scarlet witches, never got to fulfill their destiny because the forging didn't happen."

You straighten your clothes uncomfortably, pensively.

"What exactly does that mean?"

"What the headmistress did last year was my forging." She clarifies and you swallow dryly, feeling your stomach turn. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" you ask confused.

"Everything." She says upset. "I know we've talked about this, but it seems like all I do is cause you problems. With the bond, and with the forge. If Agatha didn't want my powers, she wouldn't have taken you to the dungeon and you wouldn't have suffered."

You poke at the knot of your tie, feeling yourself suffocate slightly. Wanda is speaking, you blink to focus on her words.

"I'm sorry, could you say that again?" You ask out of breath, sweating. You blink to find Wanda's concerned gaze on you.

"Babe, what's wrong?" She asks worriedly, her hands around your face.

You feel your head spin, and everything goes dark before you can answer.

//-//-//-//

You smell the scent of grass when you wake up.

Then you blink in confusion, getting used to your surroundings to realize that you are in what looks like a ward bed.

"Hey, all right, take it easy getting up, Miss Stark." Asked Professor Strange with one hand on her shoulder. In the other he held a potion that you imagined he had given you.

"W-what happened?" you mumbled confusedly, sitting up in bed. Only now did you notice Professor Munroe and Wanda standing in front of the bed, both with worried expressions.

"You passed out, but you're better now I imagine." Stephen explained gently, but you were still feeling very weak.

"Professor, she simply blacked out." Wanda commented in a tearful voice. " Don't you have any idea what's wrong?"

Stephen sighed, and then pointed at the chair, the darkhold.

"Where did you get that book?" He asked, and Wanda frowned, taking a step toward the chair in a defensive posture.

"What does that have to do with my question?" she retorted dryly, and Stephen looked at you one last time before standing up.

"There's a reason it's called the Book of the Damned, Miss Maximoff." He says."It damns its readers."

"That's ridiculous." Wanda retorted, crossing her arms. "I've been reading it for weeks and nothing has happened."

"Not with you."

Wanda hesitates, widening her eyes. And then she takes a step back, swallowing her cry as she reaches out to grab the book and hand it to Stephen.

She turns her gaze back to you, and lets the tears fall.

"I am truly sorry." She says with a mixture of guilt and shame before turning to leave the room.

You call out to her about three times, but she leaves and you don't have the strength to go after her.

"Damn, couldn't I have said that in a different way?" You complain angrily to Stephen, who just sighs, exchanging a look with Professor Munroe. "How come you two are here anyway?"

"It was Wanda." Professor Ororo replies. "She asked the room for someone trustworthy to help her with you. Then there was a door opening in the potions room. Stephen was there with me, and we both came."

"Great." You mutter annoyed, thinking about how you are going to talk to Wanda and convince her that you were not angry with her. "Would either of you happen to know how to make me better now?"

"Sure." Stephen comments by raising the book in the air, and with a wave of his hand, the item dissolves into several pieces until it is gone. "I didn't destroy it, if that's what you're thinking. I just put it away, to prevent something like that from happening again."

"Congratulations." You grumble wryly as you straighten up in bed, the same migraine from before is now weaker, but it's still there.

"You know, you had a better attitude when you didn't have a magical doom on your spirit." Stephen complains, causing you to frown, but Professor Ororo gives a chuckle.

"Thanks professor." You comment wryly, making him laugh. He sits back down beside your bed, and pulls out of the cover a small notebook.

"Now that Miss Maximoff has stopped reading the book, I suppose you will get better." Stephen says, making you sigh.

"You suppose? That's encouraging." You say moving to stand up.

"Where are you going, Miss Stark? You need to rest." Warn the professor, but you ignore him, and ignore the weakness in your body as well.

"What I need, Strange, is for people to stop lying to me."

"No one is lying, Miss Stark." Professor Ororo states next. "We really don't know the extent of the magic the darkhold carries."

"And why is that I imagine?" You sneer. "Because someone omitted the truth from you, and it's been passed down for generations, isn't it? Well, that's over now. Because we've finally studied everything in this place, including a book that condemns anyone who reads it." You exclaim impatiently, stooping down to put on your shoes. "If you two will excuse me, I'll figure out how to get better on my own. But first I'm going to explain to my girlfriend that none of this is her fault."

Ororo and Stephen are silent, but you wouldn't have been paying attention to anything they said anyway.

Soon you are up and out of the requirement room looking for Wanda.

//-//-//-//

She seems to have disappeared from the castle, so you must concentrate to use your instincts.

The hardest part is dodging the aurors, but you finally reach the astronomy tower.

You're a little out of breath from the run, but it's the image of Wanda standing on the edge, the sunlight in her hair that leaves you breathless.

"Hi." You say in a low tone, your hands in your pockets as you approach. She startles slightly, wiping away tears as she keeps her gaze forward.

"What do you want here?" she asks in a husky voice. You sigh.

"That you stop hating yourself and listen to me." You say and she lets out a short laugh.

"And what do you think you can say?" She questions turning her body toward you. "All I do is hurt you."

You shake your head, but Wanda lets out a tearful laugh.

"No you don't understand." She says. "Since I met you, you have only brought me good things. Affection, happiness, hope. You've been that kind warm feeling that I need on my worst days. Hell, you're even the memory for me to cast a patronus." She confesses with emotion, her face wet with tears. "But me? All I bring you is pain and suffering. And now I even bring sickness. This is wrong, I hurt you. You need to see this, and understand that we can no longer happen."

"Don't say that." You ask, reaching up to touch her face, wipe away her tears. "That's not true, Wanda. I love you, you make me..."

"Stop it." She interrupts with a sob. "Don't make it any harder than it already is."

"Please, Wanda, listen to me." You plead, resting your forehead on hers, your hands on her cheeks. "You make me happy, you are the only thing that makes me happy, I love you, please..."

Wanda kisses you hard, and you respond with the same intensity, both of you gasping into each other's mouths.

But then she is pulling away, thrusting you farther apart.

"I'm sorry." She cries, taking a step back. "We're over."

And she's running away again, and this time you don't go after her.

//-//-//-//-//

Without Darkhold's being consumed, you really start to improve in terms of physical health.

The only problem is the emotional ditch you find yourself in.

Gamora, Nebula and Mantis find you, again in the Room of Requirement, skipping class.

"My god this is worse than last time." Gamora remarks as she looks around at the mess of junk food and pillows. The room had been transformed into a "comfortable place", which basically had the appearance of a living room, with several soft armchairs, and lots of unhealthy food. "Why did you guys break up this time?"

"Please don't talk to me." You grumbled, your voice coming out muffled because you were lying on two soft puffs, your face buried in the pillow, your hand inside a bag of muggles snacks.

"I bet you five bucks they'll be back together before the end of the month." Nebula commented and you sniffled against your pillow, hearing a noise that sounded like Gamora hitting her sister.

"We talked to Wanda." Mantis said. "And with Professor Stephen, too. We're sorry about everything, but have you decided you're not going to study anymore?"

"I don't care about school." You grumble against the pillow. "Leave me alone, I want to cry."

Nebula gives a short laugh, and Gamora elbows her.

"Stop hitting me, you crazy." Nebula complains loudly, moving away from her sister to approach you, taking the bag of snacks you have, and making you complain softly. "And you stop being such a drama queen. Aren't you two like soul mates or some shit? It's just a fight, you'll work it out. You're acting like you've never broken up before."

"Your sensitivity is admirable." Gamora scoffs, pushing her sister away to sit next to you, stroking your back until you look up at her. "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

You feel the urge to cry arise again. "Wanda thinks she is bad for me." You say. "And she doesn't want to be with me anymore, and I want to die."

You start crying again, stuffing your face into the pillow as Gamora strokes your hair.

"How did this happen anyway?" Nebula asks, confused, chewing on salty snacks."You barely slept at home over the summer to be with her, and now you guys are breaking up. It's hard to keep up with this relationship."

"Merlin, Nebula shut up." Gamora asks impatiently, and her sister raises her hands in surrender with an ironic expression. You want to scream against your pillow, but all you do is try to control your crying.

"You can't keep disappearing, sweetheart." Gamora says as she runs her hands through your hair, trying to calm you down. "Kaecilius has already noticed. He's trying to figure out where you're going, and eventually he'll figure it out since you can't stay here forever."

"Maybe I can." You mumble making Gamora laugh softly.

"Come on, I'm sure you miss a decent meal." She says. "Why don't you join us for lunch?"

"I can't sit at your table."

"Who said anything about a table?"

This is how you end up on the edge of the great lake, at a picnic.

Mantis gets several dishes from the house elves, and since lunch is a free social hour, nobody seems to mind that you are eating outside.

Your sisters are not the only students who, over time, have learned ways around school rules.

You grumble slightly as you feel the sun on your face, but lie back on the grass, closing your eyes.

Your mind wanders back to last summer immediately, the memories of Wanda, and you feel horrible. You just want her back. And then you swallow the urge to cry again to accept the juice Mantis offers you.

"We wanted to tell you that we've found a way to help you, too." Gamora says after a moment, causing you to raise your eyebrow. "About the darkhold, and the eternal damnation thing."

"Light topic." You sneer, throwing your arm over your face. The day is hot. "I appreciate the help, of course."

Gamora giggles. "Merlin, I had forgotten how grumpy you get when you're upset."

"I'm not upset, Gamora." You retort angrily. "I'm frustrated."

"Sexually." Nebula sneers, making you grunt in anger, but Mantis holds back a laugh.

"What's your problem with my feelings lately?" You accuse the girl with irritation.

"Not everything is about you, you know." She retorts and you sit up quickly, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Nebula laughs, rolling her eyes. "In case you haven't noticed, there's a war going on." She says. "We're all stressed and scared. And the three of us have been in the same classes as you, having to watch the same things. But you only have time for Wanda. And now you've broken up, again, because there's some mortal danger, again, that she's caused for you. So, I don't know, but maybe she is right to break up. Ever since you guys started dating everything has been about her, and the trouble she causes!"

"Fuck you, Nebula!" You exclaim angrily, advancing against the girl in front of you. Gamora and Mantis quickly separate you.

"Hey, what's wrong with you?" Gamora shoves you. "Were you really going to hit her?"

"Fuck this." You curse angrily, taking a step away. "I didn't ask any of you to come after me. I don't need you. I just need Wanda. Fucking leave me alone."

You turn back to the castle, cursing the wild on your way.

//-//-//-//

Loki is the only friend you have now.

You wouldn't call him a friend exactly.

Kaecilius has put you in detention for three days a week, including Saturday, but mostly you just clean the castle. But when he takes you to the seventh floor, and makes you scrape sentences against your own skin, you don't worry about being alone anymore, because Loki is always on that floor.

It takes a week for you to tell him about the requirement room.

" You could have mentioned it earlier, we would have stuck around here." He comments without sounding upset.

Soon it doesn't take long for you two to start seeing each other even when you're not in detention.

You are not surprised that Loki also skips classes, he has always been quite mischievous, but the reason is different from yours.

He knew dark magic. Much more than you or your classmates. And he has no interest in practicing it in class.

"It's stupid." He comments as you are sitting in the armchairs. "Most people will never have the courage or willpower to cast a death curse. It's useless to learn."

"Is that the only reason you don't agree with the teaching at Hogwarts now?" You ask in surprise, setting up the chessboard for yourself as Loki shrugs his shoulders.

"I feel like you're judging me, Hufflepuff." He sneers but you smile, rolling your eyes.

"Honestly, I don't give a damn."

And you really didn't care.

Wanda was avoiding you in the halls, and you were doing the same with your friends and family.

When Iron delivered the mail to the Slytherin table, including Nebula's birthday presents, you wanted to throw up, but all you did was walk away from the Hufflepuff table toward the requirement room.

Without the darkhold, you didn't feel sick, but the anger didn't go away.

Your magic hadn't stabilized, and you were failing at everything, but you couldn't bring yourself to worry about it.

Erik wrote to you, commenting on the importance of you and Wanda practicing magical balancing together, and you burned the letter while crying on the carpet.

And at this rate, time went by.

It was almost the middle of the school year when things started to take a turn for the worse at Hogwarts, and in the wizarding war as well.

Mephisto is getting stronger, and the order is losing. And Kaecillius must be under some pressure from the ministry, maybe for answers from organizations like the Avengers, which are forbidden, because his detentions get too horrible.

It is Saturday again, and you drag yourself to the room where you are supposed to fulfill your detention, but unlike the other days, Kaecillius locks the door.

You only notice because he seems tense and distracted, and there is no feather or book.

"Professor, what will my punishment be today?" You ask confused, and he is nodding to the center of the room as he stands in front of the desk, a few feet from you.

"Miss Stark, today I want to ask some questions and I expect honesty." He declines as he turns to you.

You hiss softly, putting your hands in your pockets.

"Shoot."

Kaecillius doesn't even mind your lack of formality, looking at you with an impassive face.

"What is Mephisto's location?"

You choke in surprise and disbelief. "Excuse me? Why do you think I know that?"

"The ministry has reason enough to suspect that the Order of the Avengers is nothing more than a cover for the death walkers.Your brother, whom I had suspected of being part of that order of delinquents, is no longer at Hogwarts, but you will have to serve." He speaks and with each word you become more outraged. "Now answer me, where is Mephisto?"

" Did you just fucking call my brother a delinquent?" You mutter incredulously. "I have no idea where Mephisto is, what's your problem?"

But you widen your eyes when the professor draws his wand, and you barely have time to swallow dry before the spell hits you in the chest.

It's the cruciatus curse. You know the second it hits you. The sharp pain fills every cell in your body and you scream, not having the strength to stand or with your eyes open, hugging yourself.

"We must not tell lies, Miss Stark." Kaecillius says as soon as he stops enchanting you, the pain disappears in the same instant, but you continue to tremble.

In complete shock and fear, you sob.

"I will ask you again, where is Mephisto?"

You let the tears flow, and shake your head. "I don't know, professor."

Kaecillius lets out a sigh of disappointment. "Some cases are more difficult than others." He comments somberly, taking a step toward her. "Did you know that the record for enduring the Cruciatus curse before madness is six hours? Incredible, isn't it? It happened during the first war, with a muggleborn. You're a half-blood, maybe you can take longer"

He has a devilish grin as he finishes, and you clench your jaw at the threat.

"I don't know where Mephisto is." You repeat, but the professor points his wand at you again.

"My bet is seven hours."

And then the pain returns.

You don't know how long you stay in that room.

But it is long enough for your consciousness to begin to fade. The pain gets so severe that it gradually fades away. You begin to gasp breathlessly, not even able to scream anymore.

Someone help me. Please, help me. Help me. Wanda.

Between the tears you see the floor of the room, and between a twinge of pain, a red light. And everything is dark again.

//-//-//

“Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Warcraft and Wizard is arrested in flagrant by aurors from the ministry of magic this week, full coverage on page..."

You blink confusedly, your eyes getting used to the clarity, while the headline of the Daily Prophet was the first thing your vision caught.

And then you shifted in bed, realizing that you were in a hospital room , and whoever was reading next to you put the paper down when they heard you, and you could behold the curious look on your brother's face.

"Tony?" you whispered confused, and he smiled as he stood up quickly, the newspaper forgotten on the armchair.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" He asked as his hand reached for the loose strands of hair on your face and put them back. "You scared the hell out of me."

"What happened?"

"What's the last thing you remember?"

You thought, and then sighed, closing your eyes for a moment.

"Kaecilius."

Tony bit his lip nervously before speaking.

"I'm sorry." He said, lowering his hand to his own. "I came here as soon as I got the howler from Professor Strange, but honestly, I didn't even need it, because all the newspapers are talking about it."

"What...?" You started in confusion, but Tony hurried to explain.

"Wanda found you, Y/N." He told. "She, well, wasn't exactly happy about the whole thing. I think she lost control. Kaecilius is lucky to be alive if you ask me. She almost destroyed the seventh floor, it was a huge mess. And then the aurors interfered, and soon there were reporters everywhere. I guess now everyone knows she's a scarlet witch."

You widened your eyes, straightening to sit up and grumbling a little in pain. Tony looked at you with concern, asking you to take it easy, but you were already asking about Wanda.

"She's at the ministry of magic." He clarified. "Kaecilius is going on trial for torturing a student, and she will answer for putting everyone in danger."

" What?" you ask incredulously, and Tony sighs.

"Yeah I know it's unfair." He says. "But the minister of magic seems to be looking everywhere for people to blame for his lack of control. The problem is how much of that information will get to Mephisto. The whole ministry seems to be full of walkers."

You ran your hand across your face, frustrated.

"I'm so tired, Tony." You confess in a whisper. "It feels like everything is falling apart around me, and things are only getting worse."

Tony squeezes your hand. "I'm sorry, I really am. This whole situation sucks, and I wanted to help you. I'm trying, sister. I haven't been talking to you as much as I should, but I didn't want you to think you're alone. I'm working on breaking the bond. To free you and Wanda from the prophecy, and the wizarding world from dangers like Mephisto. I'm sorry I haven't been by your side."

You swallow your cry, and nod, trying to smile at Tony. He reaches up to hug you, and you gasp softly, taking a few seconds to relax and let the tears flow.

When you calm down, Tony tells you that he is going to get a Mediwizards to check your situation.

You lie down again, sighing softly. The memories come back with full force, and you choke softly, feeling your body tremble.

It's as if you can feel the curse again, sense the pain on your skin. Opening your eyes and shaking the memories away, you swallow dryly and reach for the glass of water on the nightstand.

You just want Wanda by your side telling you that everything is going to be okay.

//-//-//-//-//

You stay under observation for two days.

Doctor Hank makes a joke about you enjoying St.Mungus more than you should since you keep coming back, but Tony doesn't laugh.

Then you' re going back to Hogwarts by train, because the doctor thinks you shouldn't use magical means of transportation for a few days, and it's weird to take the empty express, but as soon as you arrive at the station, Gamora and Nebula are waiting for you with boxes of candy bought in Hogsmeade, and tight hugs.

You are not surprised by the stares you receive from the other students, but you ignore them as your sisters escort you around the castle to the Hufflepuff communal hall.

"Did you get to talk to Wanda?" Gamora asks as soon as you sit down on your bed, sighing with exhaustion from the train ride. The mention of the other sorceress' name doesn't help.

"Not yet." You say. "And I wouldn't be surprised to hear that she's ignoring me."

Nebula exchanges a look with her sister before sitting down on Mantis' bed, who is hugging her knees and looking at you.

"Honestly, I just want to finish this year without any more problems." You confess as you take off your jacket. And there is a moment of silence before you swallow dryly. "I also wanted to apologize to you guys."

Gamora frowns slightly, but says nothing. You take a deep breath.

"I know I was under the influence of an evil book, but that was still no excuse for treating you guys like that." You begin. "Tony told me about how things are in the wizarding world. Everyone is going through something, and it was selfish of me to think that only my problems matter. I'm sorry."

"Really, Y/N, it's okay." Nebula says, surprising you a bit. "We were all stressed, and well, I think an evil book is a pretty fair excuse." She jokes, making you smile. "Maybe things will get a little better now that Strange is the director."

"Oh, that's right" You comment just then remembering the things Tony updated you on while you were at St.Mungus. Like Kaecillius' resignation, and the position being passed on to Professor Stephen. "But honestly, I won't be at peace until I hear from Wanda."

"The trial isn't until Friday. And the way things are going, we won't get any news until it's over." Gamora warned as she sat down on the bed next to you. "I think the Maximoffs are probably too busy to write."

"What do you think will happen to Wanda?" You ask as you tug at the loose strands of the comforter. Mantis sighs lightly.

"I don't have a good feeling about things, Y/N." She confesses and you frown in concern. "And the stars never lie."

"Thank you, Mantis." You mock softly, and Gamora runs her hands through her hair.

"Let's not be pessimistic, okay?" she says. "Maybe the predictions are about, I don't know, the school finals? It doesn't mean something bad is really going to happen."

You grumble unhappily, grabbing a pillow and sinking your face into it. Gamora strokes your back.

"I'm sure things will work out, Y/N." She says. "Wanda will write as soon as she can."

"Do you guys think Kaecilius will be sent to Azkaban?" Nebula asks next, making you raise your head curiously.

"I wouldn't be so sure." You grumble. "I was actually surprised that he was put on trial at all."

"Well, with the whole mess that happened, it was bound to happen." Gamora said. "More than half the school became aware that he used the cruciatus curse on you, and then the daily prophet. And I didn't even know they were in the castle."

"It was because of Wanda really, wasn't it?" Mantis added. "Kaecillius caused his own ruin. He called the journalists to show what he called progress and decided to torture a student while they were in the castle. Then Wanda destroyed the entire floor and the next morning his arrest was all over the pages."

"I'm just really outraged to know that if no one had seen it, he would probably still be at Hogwarts." Gamora says angrily, and you sigh, agreeing as well as the others.

"Well, you must be hungry, shall we go to the great hall? It's almost dinner time." Gamora comments next, pulling you by the hand. You grumble softly, but agree, and soon you are leaving the communal hall to join the rest of the students.

//-//-//-//-//

You are tapping your fingers gently against the desk as you wait for the History of Magic class to begin.

It is Friday, finally.

You have barely slept because of anxiety about news of Wanda's trial.

Things at Hogwarts have changed a lot this week, all because of Strange's administration.

He restored the old classes, banned the teaching of dark magic, the scandal at the Daily Prophet being enough of an argument that the Minister of Magic no longer had a defense over this kind of teaching at Hogwarts. The restricted session of the library was also put back, and the seventh floor was off-limits because of the destruction Wanda caused, and you unfortunately lost access to the Requirement room.

Mantis was writing what looked like a lunar calendar for the divination class while Professor Okoye didn't arrive, and you started whistling distractedly.

And then Thor Odinson was poking you in the back to get your attention, and you turned around in your chair.

"Hi, Stark, what's up?"

"Fine." You grumbled suspiciously. "Can I help you with something?"

Thor looked almost unsure. "I was just wondering if you know of anything going on with Loki."

You frowned. "Excuse me?"

"I mean if you know if he's sick or something." He explains. "We had a fight, and well, he's not talking to me. And I've noticed that you guys have been kind of close lately, and I was curious if you knew anything and..."

"No, Thor, I'm sorry." You interrupt with a sigh. "Maybe you should ask him that."

Thor assumes a sad expression. "I would, but he's ignoring me. I think it might be about our mother."

You make a confused expression, and Thor looks surprised.

"Our mother, she...died earlier this year, Y/N." Thor counters, and you widen your eyes. "Our family is a name of reference against Mephisto. With the war, the walkers came to our home. She was there while we were here, and Dad was at the ministry."

"I'm so sorry, Thor." You whisper to him, still shocked by the information. He shrugged.

"I thought Loki told you."

"We don't talk about things like that, I guess." You say. "Sorry, I wish I knew how to help you."

"No, it's okay." Thor says with a sad smile. "You being his friend this year is more than enough. I don't like seeing him all alone out here."

You nod lightly, settling into your chair as you notice the teacher entering the room.

Mantis exchanges a look of understanding with you, having overheard the conversation even if accidentally, but she says nothing, and soon you are hearing about the witch hunt in the United States, and you try to focus on that rather than curiosity about how Wanda's trial is going or Loki's current emotional state.

//-//-/-//-//-//

As soon as lunchtime begins, you join the Slytherin table, where some of the students have placed a radio on the table, equally with other students from the other houses, to listen to the trial.

You are not surprised that a student's trial is such an interesting topic for everyone, but after the school started talking about Wanda being a scarlet witch, and the theories circulating around the halls, it was to be expected.

So you sit back while biting your fingertips and listening.

"And now directly from the Ministry of Magic, the trial of seventeen-year-old witch Wanda Maximoff, daughter of legendary witch Erik L-"

Your attention is slightly diverted from the narrative when loud laughter catches your ears.

They are Gryffindor and Slytherin students, exchanging coins. You don't need to hear the conversation to know they are gambling about the trial, the mean laughter and glances in the direction of you and your sisters are enough.

And as if she could feel your growing fury, Gamora touches your shoulder gently.

"Just ignore them, Y/N." She urges and you clench your jaw. " Everything is going to be okay with Wanda."

"I hope you're right, Gamora." You grumble, turning your attention back to the radio.

The narration of the newspaper is generic, and you discover that the audience has been closed off to the reporters.

You take a deep breath, concentrating.

No strange feeling, so Wanda is safe.

You wonder if Erik and Pietro are by her side during the whole thing.

It is only at the end of lunchtime that you have the result.

"It's amazing how things unfold in the ministry this afternoon." Counted the reporter with almost excitement. "After a unanimous vote, the witch Wanda Maximoff was found guilty of endangering her fellow students by not registering as a scarlet witch to the ministry of magic, after it was proven that her father, the sorcerer Erik Lehnsherr knew of her condition, as well as the affiliation with the criminal, Agatha Harkness was also mentioned. The ministry finally decided on Wanda Maximoff's expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizarding"

You felt your stomach plummet.

And everything became a little muffled around you, a soft whistle in your ear. You think Gamora and Nebula were calling for you, but you were getting up, feeling the room getting too small.

Stumbling out, you loosened the knot of your tie, finally stopping in the courtyard as you leaned your body against a pillar.

Wanda had been expelled from Hogwarts, publicly exposed as a Scarlet Witch, and tried as a criminal. You wondered if they would break her wand. Banned wizards led horrible lives.

Your sisters and friends caught up with you quickly, and you let them hug you.

In a few minutes Director Strange is catching up with you as well, and you release Gamora's grip to talk to him.

"Professor, I need to..."

"You cannot leave Hogwarts, Miss Stark." He interrupts with a wave of his hands and you frown in confusion, ready to protest but he is already speaking. "Tony sent a patronus as soon as the results came out, he already figured you'd want to see Miss Maximoff. The ministry is a mess, and Wanda will be staying with her father there for the minister's final decisions. You should stay here, where you are safe."

"That's not fair!" You squawk angrily. "Wanda needs me, I must-"

"She needs you to be safe." He interrupts again seriously, and then lowers his tone slightly as he notices the curious looks of the surrounding students. "Be rational, Miss Stark. Now that the Wizarding community knows the nature of Wanda's powers, how long before Mephisto has enough information and discovers your identity as protector."

You swallow dryly, clenching your fists begrudgingly. Stephen is right. You look away, and he sighs, placing his hand on your shoulder.

"Wanda will be fine, even without her NEWTS, she is an extraordinary witch." He says. "And the year is coming to an end, soon you will be able to see her again."

"She needs me now." You grumble annoyed, turning away from the professor's touch. He looks at you for a moment and then clears his throat.

"I'll see what I can do, Miss Stark." He says."In the meantime, focus on your studies, and be careful."

You frown at Stephen's words, but he is already turning and leaving before you can ask.

As you turn to your friends, Gamora has a worried look on her face.

"Are you okay?" She asks, and you sigh, agreeing to hug her again as you mumble no.

"I can feel how upset she is, Gamora." You grumble against your sister's shirt, wishing you could hug Wanda now. Gamora squeezes you against her arms, and you thank her for her intention even if it isn't enough.

The next few days are like a blur for you.

Many letters arrive, as do many editions of the Daily Prophet.

When the picture of the day Wanda's wand was broken comes out on the front page and you see her tired face, you have to run out of the common room to keep from crying in front of your colleagues.

Everyone writes to you, even Carol, everyone but the Maximoffs.

It is frustrating, and honestly, it breaks your heart in many ways.

The news of a Scarlet Witch after a century is almost as bombastic as Mephisto's return, and you're not surprised that many of your colleagues would start to comment on the possibility of Wanda working with him or against him.

It's overwhelming how everyone talks about her, but all you can feel is how much you miss her around the castle, around you.

You couldn't even remember that your magic is stable, and with everything that has happened, you haven't had time to figure out how to fix things.

Stephen tried to help, but he didn't know what was going on. At least the theoretical part of magic you were able to master, and you hoped to get at least an acceptable score in some subjects.

Only almost a week and a half after the trial, Professor Strange interrupts the potions class to talk to you.

Ignoring the curious stares and whispers of your classmates, you ask Professor Munroe to excuse you, and leave the room.

"What is wrong, professor?" You ask curiously as you close the door, watching Stephen with his hands in his pockets.The dungeons feel emptier without the ministry aurors around the castle.

"Saturday, in the Astronomy tower, nine-thirteen at night." He says as he hands you a small gold key, causing you to frown in confusion. "You will have exactly one hour, Miss Stark. Not a second more."

You stare at the object in your hand, and understand. A portal key. To Wanda.

"Thank you, Professor." You say, and Stephen nods before leaving.

You turn back to potions, the object in your pocket. You could barely contain your anxiety.

//-//-//-//-//-//-//

Tag list> @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia || @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam // @olsensnpm // @sxfwap // @table57 // @madamevirgo // @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo // @emptysince18x // @xastrydx || @yuhloversxx || @ymzki-haruki || @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday || @lostandsearching || @lezzzbehonesthere || @musicinourlips || @chaekhan || @diaryoflife || @nervoustrack || @aquamarinescarlet || @cristin-rjd || @idamaemann || @fortunatelynerdylight || @iliketozoneout || @blackwow34 // @tiny--freak || @spongebobtentacles || @cyberbonesworld ||

A/F/N> Place your bets for my next comeback (a week, a month or tomorrow?). If I delete the blog, and you're in love with this story for some reason I don't know about because there are so many better things to read, know that I'll post everything on AO3 if I ever do.

[sadachmesarthim]

towers for your honeycomb chapter 3: no i do not condone underage drinking i just think it's a good plot devic-

content: the boys have One Beer Each™, peter both sets and completely ignores his own boundaries, author remembers the communion chapter from "how to read literature like a professor" and bastardizes it, both of them have anxiety but neither say anything about it, smoking

words: 2k     song: outskirts of paradise - bad suns     

Looking Tony in the eye was like staring at the sun. Peter could barely hold his gaze, always finding an excuse to turn away.

He was sat in front of the other man a few weeks later, sharing drinks and pizza at a new brewery down the road. It’d cost him his liquor license, and potentially a clean record, if anyone found out, but Richie (their most beloved regular) offered to let the pair try the latest house brew if they ever swung through.

Peter wasn’t one for beer, but he’d accepted Tony’s invite anyway.

He wasn’t entirely sure why. Since their fight, they’d worked all of maybe three hours together. No other shifts, they avoided each other at meetings, and neither were particularly willing to reach out off the clock and apologize.

It was like the world was screaming at them to stay away from each other.

Peter wasn’t sure he wanted to listen.

After his shift that morning, Peter found Tony outside, leaning up against the hood of his car & working through his second cigarette. He drummed on the side of his thigh, keeping his empty hand busy as he waited for Peter to come out. Tony jumped at the sight of him, tossing the half finished cig down a storm drain.

“You know those lead straight to the ocean, right?” There was more amusement than anger behind his words. Peter wasn’t entirely sure what Tony was up to, but he was too tired to start shit. He crossed to the passenger side of his car, tossing his belongings to the floor.

“Even if it didn’t go through the city’s filtration system – fuck the fish.” Peter rolled his eyes. Funny as he was, Tony always had to be contradictory.

“Don’t you have, like, a school of them on your shoulder?” Tony’s normally visible salmon tattoos were safely tucked away behind a denim jacket Peter’d never seen before.

“Irrelevant.” Peter rounded the hood and turned, facing the other man. “Did you need something or were you just here to argue about my town’s plumbing system?” He huffed the words out, arms crossing in front of his chest expectantly.

“I, uh…” He suddenly went silent. The ground crunched under Tony’s feet, gravel scraping asphalt under his shoes. They were a rattier pair he owned – more tape than sole, oil staining the canvas.

“I wanted to know if you’d come to lunch with me. Today. Like, right now?” He hesitated at the last few words, like he wasn’t sure he could say them out loud. “I, uh. I’m pretty sure I have some things to say to you, and Richie’s got some good stuff waiting for us at the Pub House…”

Peter was astounded. “Who are you, and what have you done with my Tony?” My Tony? What? “I- why should I trust you? I’m sure as hell not getting in a car with you.”

Tony’s face fell. A bit of- what, disappointment? flew across his face. Peter would’ve missed it had he not been staring, impatient for his answer. Tony, floundering at the rejection, couldn’t give him one.

“Okay, maybe- how about this. I’ll think about it. Give me five minutes to go wash up and I’ll be back.” He turned & headed inside, not waiting for a response.

The cool water felt good against his burning, salt-stained cheeks. Peter hadn’t realized just how tired he was – opens had always taken it out of him, and the early spring temperatures didn’t always prevent the stand from turning into a heater during rush hour.

The soap in the stand was always too fragrant for his taste, but it did the job – it felt good to wash away the day’s work and come back looking like a new man. He smoothed his eyebrows down and dried himself off, wetting his hair a bit as he finished.

He wound up with grind in it again, brushing it out with a comb he found in the first aid kit. One of these days he was going to have to start wearing hats to work. Shampooing his hair every single day was taking its toll on his curls, and he wasn’t a fan of burnt coffee smell.

Stepping back, he squinted into the warped mirror in front of him. Much better.

Back outside, Tony’d lit up his third cigarette of the day. The shakes’d largely abandoned him, allowing his anxiety to drift inward. The sticks only did so much – he missed the higher, stronger hit of his Suorin, but he was trying to quit (ironically enough).

He was actually able to finish this one by the time Peter made his way back outside, looking significantly better without $5 worth of product on his face.

“Okay, some rules.” He came up, stopping just short of Tony. “You’re paying for both of us. We leave whenever I want, without complaint. We go straight there and come straight back - it’s eight blocks, I don’t want any bullshit scenic routes.” His tone was firm – something Tony’d never encountered with him before. 

“Yes. Yes, anything. Okay.” 

Tony’s car was a lot nicer than Peter anticipated. He’d recently sold his truck, swapping it for a silver Mini Cooper instead. It was a pretty little thing, just up his alley.

It was also fucking obnoxious. He’d bought it with a modified exhaust and had plans to make it even louder. You could almost always hear him coming, little pop pop pops audible for quite a ways. 

It was… less clean than Peter expected. Tony was always so well put together, so well-maintained - seeing stray gum wrappers and drink cups littered around the interior was almost jarring. He didn’t realize he was staring until Tony spoke up. 

“She’s nice, isn’t she?” Peter nodded. He silently took in his new surroundings, nerves on fire. He’d never done well around strangers, in new places. His mind’d always screamed at him, danger unsafe bad run, overriding his sensibilities.

“Hey, are you good? I can take you back if you need.” They’d barely left the Outback parking lot. 

“No- no, I think I’ll be okay. Just… not where I thought I’d end up when I woke up today, y’know?” Peter tried to laugh it off, but he’d always been pretty transparent. 

Tony turned a corner, cutting back into the lot they just came from and turning the car off. “Seriously, Peter. If you don’t want to come to lunch with me just say so. I’ll take you back to your car and we can pretend it never happened.” Okay, seriously, who the fuck is this guy and what did he do with Tony?

“No, I- I think I’m okay. Seriously. Let’s just go and get it over with - I kinda want to hear you grovel anyway.” He settled further into his seat, failing to shake away the agitation. 

The flatbread was actually really good. It was more of a hipster take on pizza - white sauce and pearl onions definitely making it stand out - but it wasn’t a bad lunch by any means. 

The beer definitely wasn’t Peter’s favorite. He was barely sipping by, trying hard to keep a straight face as he swallowed. Damn Richie anyway. 

It’d started off awkward enough - discussing where to sit, small talk about their week, the weather. It felt more like a bad first date than an apology, but- 

“I really am sorry. For what happened in the fridge.” 

Oh. 

“Okay. Why?” Peter tightened the hand around his glass, bracing for Tony’s next words. 

“I.. I was kind of an asshole when I was younger, too. I figured I could make a fresh start here with a brand new town of people that didn’t know or assume anything about me.

“I was doing okay for a little while, too, but I don’t know man I just.. something happened and I just- I don’t know why I’m a dick to you. But I’m trying not to be. This is that, like, ‘first step’, I guess?” Peter nodded along, attentive. 

"So, I don't know. I'm sorry for being a dick to you at work. I'm sorry for being a dick to the girls. I shouldn't yell at you or drag your family into this bullshit - I'm sorry, Peter."

There it was again, that name. His first fucking name. 

“I- thank you, Tony. It’s a start, and I certainly haven’t forgiven you, but… thank you. Seriously.” Tony sighed, shoulders visibly relaxing. Peter let go of his glass and wiped it off, standing and walking around to Tony’s side of the table. 

“Okay then, time for a do-over! Hi, I’m Peter Parker. I’m 19 and I’ve worked at Outback North Espresso for a little over 9 months. What’s your name?” He stuck his hand out, waiting for Tony to make the next move.  

Tony laughed, pushing his chair back and standing to meet the other teen. “Okay, uh, I’m Tony Stark, I’m 18, and I’ve worked at Outback for almost 6. Nice to re-meet you, Peter.” He shook Peter’s hand, awestruck at just how soft it was. He quickly steeled his face and sat back down, releasing Peter and allowing him to do the same. 

Once he was sat back down at his side, Peter looked up, confused. “Wait, you’re still 18?” 

Tony laughed. “Not for long. My birthday’s at the end of next month.” 

“Wow, I can’t believe I’m older than you!” 

Tony rolled his eyes. “That’s - it’s literally three months, that barely counts.” 

Their debate lasted well into the afternoon, alongside several other discussions. Peter’s childhood in Richland, and what it was like growing up there. What Federal Way was like, and why Tony left. Peter could tell he was remaining intentionally vague, but didn’t push it. 

Their beers were warm and the pizza was long gone by the time they abandoned their table. Tony guided him out the back, hand high on his arm. 

Once they were back in the car, Peter’s anxiety returned. It was like he’d spent the last few hours speaking to a completely different person, and now that he was sitting mere inches from Tony… 

He wasn’t scared. He wasn’t. He wasn’t… sure, exactly. What it was. 

Tony spoke up when he noticed the tension in his passenger seat. 

“Hey, we’ll get you back to your car soon, I promise. Eight blocks, remember?” His right hand made its way to Peter’s knee, digging soft circles into the denim. Just like in the fridge.

“Please don’t- don’t touch me. Without asking.” It came out harsher than intended. 

“Okay, all good. No worries. We’re like, two minutes away.” Tony eased off the clutch, turning right out of the parking lot and onto the road. The windows rolled down and Peter let his head fall back in relief. Fresh air always helped him clear his head. 

It really was a short drive - right turn, left turn, right turn - and they were back at Peter’s car. The doors unlocked, and he was out in an instant. A bit too fast to be respectful, if he was being honest, but he knew he needed out. Tony stopped him before he was able to get in his car. 

“Hey, for real. Thank you for today. I’m sorry if it was too much.” 

Peter looked over and down to meet his eyes. “I- yeah, of course. No, yeah, thank you. For the apology. I’m sorry I freaked out on you. But no this- it was good. Yeah. Thank you, Tony.” 

He turned, unlocking the door and closing it before either could say anything else. After turning the key he sped off, without throwing even a glance behind him. 

Tony watched as Peter peeled away, reaching for the box of Pall Malls in his cupholder. He lit one, shifting into first and heading in the opposite direction. 

Not bad. Not good, but not bad. 

lmk if u want on or off the tags list!

@snowstark @kaleidoscopeluli @parkerrbitch @carelessannie​ @bluestarker​ @longlivestarker​ 

[blee-bleep]

Though I disagree vehemently about your take I'm also very curious of your arguments for why you think Akko is such a bad character?

Anon, you have no idea what you just fucking asked of me. Time for a review! This is going to be hella’ long. 

Vanilla Character that insists that she has personality

So the one thing I’m going to start off with is; The Relatable/Vanilla Protagonist Syndrome. This is the syndrome that is used for most main characters in order to have a clean-slate character that is basically the audience in order to promote the world-building in the series by having them absolutely no clue of what is the world around them. That is what Akko exactly is, and that is what Trigger abuses her out of. 

Little Witch Academia is an anime that focuses solely on world-building, so much so that they’re willing to pile over their characters in order to show what magic can do. 

(And apparently for Trigger, world-building also means learning who the author of a 200-yo Twilight spinoff book is and who was Holbrooke’s dad)

But the point is, the anime is a pile of boring trash fire that focuses on world-building, even from its original exposition of the OVA. It uses the pattern of ‘theme/problem of the week’ in half of the series with arcs going nowhere for a while and suddenly rushes an epiphany in the last few episodes. *cough ep 15*

The point with world-building serialization is that it needs a way to be promoted, and what way for it to promote is to get Akko to fuck around with it. As her job as the protag, that’s exactly what she does for more than half of the series. She’s like a stretchy character that is carried by the plot with gross insistence from the show that she has character (which is being stubborn and clumsy that is written off as ‘passionate’).

What’s worse is Trigger has all these ideas yet none of them are polished to its fullest (like the political divide between witches and modern government) or is overlapped by some bullshit to add because Japan. (seriously, a hunting-themed episode with cool lore, and yet a third of the episode is all about robots and building it? What the fuck?)

See, that’s why I think Akko is a horribly written character, not her character itself (if that were the case then I would’ve ditched the show the first episode) but because how she’s executed with it for the show. She’s constantly pulled by different bullshit the show comes up and makes her pull the answers the episode needs out of thin fucking air just because the writers said ‘fuck you’ to development and that they need to end the problem at some point right?

If characters can’t be tied correctly to the worldbuilding then there’s a chance that the character themselves would break, because it just can’t often work with what you’ve already placed in the previous episodes you’ve set up in the first place. Arcs overlap with each other and LWA doesn’t do shit for that until it needs a banging climax. 

Akko is constantly renewed and she learns nothing from what she learned (or at least hints of it), except for the metamorphosis bullshit and Shiny Rod. Which brings me to my next point on why Akko is such a horrible character.

Shiny Rod is a Leech

This thing is basically the plot device that Akko is so tied to. If there’s ever an episode where it solely focuses on Akko herself, it’s often related to either Shiny Rod or Chariot du Nord, which is the shittiest way to limit a character with so much exposition with everything the series has thrown at her. The only other way the series doesn’t do this to her is Diana in episode 12, but it isn’t even focused on her, it’s focused on the cabbage and her Draco Malfoy syndrome.

Anyways, were an episode be connected to Akko in some way, it’s always limiting to her duty as the holder of the Shiny Rod and the occasional situation from Chariot. Not from her friends, who she clearly relates to and has more history with, but with the Shiny Rod and Chariot.

The series lazily signs this as Akko’s resolution to her character by the last episode (FUCK THAT) and does nothing else with her relationship with other characters outside of Diana and Chariot. Honestly, you’d expect that after going through Sucy’s mind and visiting Lotte’s hometown, she would’ve grown as a better character and more than being a two-dimensional ‘chosen-one’ character who only gets an episode if it focuses on the plot-device that pulled her in the magical world in the first place. 

But no, Trigger is still insisting pies, weird shops, and other boring stuff needs to be shown for the series to make it interesting, and dumps the idea to the next. An arc is never properly made for all the shit they let Akko go through because the series is so fast-paced in the wrong places. And when it does focus on what is important (more important than finding about Nightfall’s author), it’s usually done spontaneously thus eliminating the suppose suspense that the single important thing is supposed to do *I HATE EPISODE 15 WHAT THE FUCK*

The point is, Akko is just a ‘believing heart’. A holder of Shiny Rod, who managed to get under Chariot without her knowing. It’s like she’s Midoriya (My Hero Academia) but much watered down and if you take that away from her, she has nothing, when out of all the stuff she could’ve had.

What LWA’s writers hadn’t realized is that what they actually wrote for Akko is what could’ve been her focus but Trigger insists for the world-building theme is that Akko’s arc should only come in the climax and the filler episodes are for her friends because you know, it won’t be more interesting that way and now they have a main protagonist that’s actually interesting beyond their design and suppose-personality. 

Thus I’m next to my last bullshit:

Akko, the Wasted Potential™

I recently rewatched Citrus lately, and though the show is much narrow than LWA’s world of magic, I realized what actually makes it better than it in ways that the latter fails. And it’s their protagonist.

I know you guys will trash about Yuzu being a simp and all, and I absolutely agree with that, but what makes Yuzu better than Akko is not because she’s more down-to-earth, but she has a three-dimensional mindset, a mindset which is the very thing kept away from Akko. 

While Yuzu may not have been pushed into a world of magic by the neck and gets dragged by the plot as violently as Akko (and the two very different themes of the two shows of course), but if you pull those away, their passion are nearly built the same. What differs them both is that Yuzu actually acts out what she needs to do and builds a steady relationship with the other characters around her, even if it’s very subtle and small. (Like, Harumin being her wicked hot sidekick? God yes, top-tier Gyaru)

Akko, on the other hand, literally goes into one of her best friend’s mind in a poison-induced coma and gets shoved into her other best friend’s culture by visiting her hometown. You might think she’d grow from that and realize what it takes to be a better character, right? WRONG.

Of course, Trigger uses these things as filler episodes and nothing more. It doesn’t reflect on Akko’s character because she’s not allowed to think like it should. Though the show would insist she has personality, it does the opposite when Akko’s only character is only used as ‘believing heart’ for the Shiny Rod and nothing much else, because the only times when they do get her a new attitude is dropped off right after.

It would’ve been cool if they dropped the world-building theme for a bit and focus on how they should make the characters much more interesting than having their personalities as the root problems of episodes. 

When I first watched LWA, I had so much more expectation for the characters themselves, especially Amanda O’Neill after her introduction in episode 3. But came episode 5 and then she… didn’t really matter that much despite being in half of the episode. And she didn’t have another one not until 11 episodes later. Imagine making and hyping up such a unique character and barely giving her screentime of three episodes! That’s one of the grossest things you can do in baiting lesbians, Trigger! 

And it doesn’t stop at Amanda; it applies to almost every other character. Chariot is the pink-print disappointment of a hyped character that didn’t have enough time. She’s a plot-device character that everyone was anticipating but she’s barely given the after of a shitty episode 14 (that has another completely different problem altogether). Episode 15 was literally the worst you could’ve done to make a twist because a) the development leading to that revelation was undercooked, and especially shitty because the show basically used Croix as a plot device, b) it’s done nearly towards the end of the series so the timing for her hype was weirdly placed, and c) Chariot’s personality from that episode is being used repeatedly just to let Akko become a sitting duck. 

So yeah, Trigger was so focused on the concept of world-building and making magic look as interesting as possible that the idea that maybe the characters would flat-out look bleak was not in their cone of vision. Akko was fundamentally a boring protagonist because she keeps getting pulled apart and has not ingrained anything in that, and to rub salt into the wound, she becomes so used to it that when Croix set her up with the Wagandea trap, Chariot has to intervene and at the cost of her flight powers, which does not help their characters one bit.

Akko is a shitty protagonist Trigger shredded apart just for their sake of world-building and she has learned nothing from what the show has thrown at her because the writers didn’t think she needed it, because, in the first place, it’s not about her. It’s about the Shiny Rod and completing Chariot’s story (which is half-assed in its own way). Lord knows how they botched her to the point she’s blank. She’s nothing more than a ‘believing heart’ and if Trigger just keeps there, that’s forever what she is. And that, in itself, is why I think Akko is a horrible character.

[stretchjournalemerson]

When Moments Turn to Memories

By Maddie Browning

art by Molly Mitchell

“You will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory.” - Dr. Seuss

This seemingly simple quote sat on a bulletin board outside of my high school theatre classroom for months. I would pass it quickly, glance over at it, and go about my day, not thinking about how horribly true it was. I knew things ended, but I didn’t understand that people did too.

I struggle with beginnings because I can only ever think of their eventual end, when everything I love about them will soon be a distant memory. When I was 12, my parents took my brother and I to Hawaii. It was absolutely breathtaking. We saw volcanoes and luscious greenery and crystal clear waters. We ziplined in an area where Jurassic Park was filmed and saw spinner dolphins leap into the air off the side of our boat when we went on a snorkeling trip. And as wonderful as it was, I couldn’t stop thinking about the time when I would eventually have to leave, when I would get one final glance at the glimmering waves, and then take off on a plane back to Colorado. It was like I needed the time to prepare myself for when the dreamy vacation life would be over before it had even begun. But I thought that maybe if I was prepared, leaving wouldn’t hurt as much. Maybe that was true. I still don’t know.

I never dealt with the death of a loved one until a little over a year ago. Before that, I had lost my great grandparents, but at the time, I was too young to comprehend the finality and pain of death. I thought that maybe, like my vacation thought process, if I had enough time to prepare for someone’s eventual death, I would be more okay. I’d be ready. But that was complete bullshit, and I didn’t get any time to prepare anyway.

I hear "Rainbow" by Kacey Musgraves, and suddenly I'm back in the car with my two best friends. We're dressed in all black. It's the middle of the afternoon, but it's as if the sky has been drained of all of its color. I’m sitting in the passenger seat, and I see life passing by in slow motion as I glance out at the gloomy clouds hovering above us. I’ve never seen a darker day. It is almost as if the world knows that something horrible happened and is in mourning with us. We drive in complete silence except for the soft playing of the song. I can feel the downbeat of the piano chords like they’re playing on my heart, pushing out all of the deep emotions I didn’t know I could feel. We make it to the church just as Kacey sings, “Everything will be alright now,” even though it couldn’t be farther from the truth. This used to be the place where we would all gather for choir concerts and sing and laugh. Now, it’s the place where we will witness the funeral of our 17 year old friend.

The first time that I met Parker was in my Theatre I class in high school. He stood apart from everyone else—wearing an orange puffer jacket, cargo shorts, and flip flops no matter the weather. His brown hair swept lightly across his forehead and his deep brown eyes held darker secrets than any of us could have ever known. He was kind and talkative and loved, but stood in the corner of the room as if he didn’t quite feel like he belonged. He was the kind of person who you wanted, needed to get to know, but you didn’t know how. My clearest memory from that class is watching a scene that he wrote and performed where a talking goat head was controlling his mind and driving him to insanity. He was strange, but in the best way.

I remember walking into the church and feeling numb. I saw people I knew everywhere, but everything felt wrong, and I couldn't even make it past the front door without crying. I couldn't understand how this was really happening. Directly inside, there were photo displays of Parker from when he was a baby until now and items he treasured like his infamous Scooby Doo shirt. I felt nauseous and almost as if I was floating outside of my own body. And as I floated above it all, I saw static. People were moving around in all different directions, and all I could see was a deep black aura emitting from the crowd. There was a sense of emptiness and darkness. Everyone blended together in a large mass of pain and suffering, a gathering of people who loved each other, sharing in immense grief. I didn’t know how to handle it all. I was shaking uncontrollably as I moved toward my seat in the chapel.

One of my favorite memories of Parker was during Beauty and the Beast, our last musical before COVID shut down in-person schooling. I played Mrs. Potts, but could not do a British accent to save my life. Parker had a knack for accents, so he told me he would help me in whatever way I needed. He tried coaxing me to say different phrases and mimic his intonation and went on rants in character about his life as the person he had created with specific accents. There was one day that I had an especially horrible British accent, and I was feeling really defeated. I told him it was almost more fake Australian than British to which he said, “That’s ok. Australians are just British people but on fire.” He made me laugh and smile when I felt awful about myself. I’ll never forget that moment.

When the funeral started, they played a slideshow of Parker from when he was a baby until his senior photos. It was the first time I had ever seen this adorable little boy. His family enjoyed going on tropical vacations together yearly and compiled photos of him from each one. He seemed to be holding exotic animals in almost every photo. There were different types of lizards and birds and monkeys perched on his shoulder. I remember just how captivating his smile was. At that moment I couldn’t think of any smiles in the world that shone brighter than his. He looked up at the camera like he was the luckiest boy in the world to be where he was. He was so playful and happy, but now he was gone.

Parker was really, really funny. He used to post daily snapchat stories about the most random things. My best friend, Kalyssa, and I looked forward to watching them everyday and laughing while he discussed the concept of frogs and how airplanes are just flying metal dildos. “Bro what even the fuck are airplanes?” was our favorite quote. None of what he said made sense, but without us even realizing, it was one of the best parts of our day.

Parker’s family wrote moving speeches that they delivered throughout the funeral, but his dad’s speech still haunts me today. He said that whenever they went on vacation, Parker was always captivated by the waves. He would go down to the edge of the sand and play in the water as the tide moved in and out. He couldn’t swim, ironically enough, but he still loved being right at the edge of the water. His dad said that he would watch Parker play for hours, content with seeing him so happy. He said that those same waves that his son used to play in now washed over him with grief and pain. The thing that his son loved most in this world, now tore him apart. I think about that a lot, and I wish that I could have known that little boy, so enthralled by the crashing of the ocean's waves.

During the first semester of our senior year, Kalyssa and I choreographed and starred in the musical, Heathers, with our theatre production ensemble class. We only had about two and a half weeks to pull the show together, so Kalyssa and I had to divide and conquer between learning our own parts and teaching choreography. I worked with Parker on the song, “Dead Gay Son,” and he was a comically awful dancer. He performed every step that I taught him, no matter how many times I demonstrated it, almost like a suburban dad trying to embarrass his kids. My favorite part of rehearsal was watching him dance. He tried so hard to get all of the steps, and I loved seeing him working so passionately. He never gave up and always had a smile on his face. I would give anything just to see him dance one more time.

My high school actually held an in-person graduation in a huge field more than six feet apart in July. They had a chair set out for Parker with balloons tied to it, and when they called his name, they released them into the air. I remember shedding a tear as I looked around at all of his friends that shared in my grief, but it was like a small part of our pain flew into the air with those balloons. It was a beautiful moment knowing that he would never be forgotten as long as we were still here to remember him.

It’s been a little over a year since he died. It still feels weird, like a part of me is missing. I still have bad days where I don’t want to get out of bed in the morning and random triggers that send me into a dark void once again. But yesterday something happened that gave me a little bit of peace and hope. My roommate, Molly, is very spiritual. She does tarot card readings and lights candles for her deities, and however unbelievable as it sounds, she sees ghosts. I didn’t believe it myself at first, but after all of the weird encounters in our room, I know she’s not just seeing things. She can’t always see the full features of any ghosts, but she can feel their energies and when certain ghosts are connected to the people they stand next to. Yesterday, she told me that she had been noticing an energy that never left my side since last semester. Even when we left our room and traveled out into the city, it was always there. She sensed that this energy was a young male presence, who had some deeper connection to me. She is sure it’s him. It’s Parker. I know it sounds crazy and impossible, but I believe her. In all of my grief, I didn’t realize that he never truly left. And even though I can’t see him, I now know that he has and always will be with me.

Acknowledgements

This memoir was inspired by my friend, Parker Priesser. He was such a kind and beautiful person who made my days brighter and never failed to make me laugh. He was funny and smart and good at accents and had so much potential to do great things. His death caused me great pain and sorrow, and this memoir was one of my outlets of expressing that. It gave me a way to feel him again without spiraling back into a pit of grief. He was truly the most genuine person I have ever met.

I miss you, Parker, and I will always love you.

[shipperlyfe]

things that were fucked up about one of my previous workplaces:

weren't allowed to sit down even if there were no customers the whole day unless you were doing something

only 3 employees...? including me...?

printer was just, fucked. the print capabilities of that shop were messed up. the printer needed color recalibrated badly.

owner was mad at coinciding preplanned vacations because she was a competitive obstacle course runner

the lack of utter communication

I never even found out what series of little mistakes I made that got me fired even though I requested a post employment performance review and they never called me back or followed up with me

literally if they dont get my W-2 to me in the next week I am CONTACTING the labor board

they're lucky I'm stupid

I was literally bullied there

we had to clean like three times a day

the vacuum was fucked up too which was funny

the owner was clearly in a toxic, perhaps even abusive marriage but didn't like have the tools to deal with it either

not that she was really even a good mother also? she was literally treating her stepson like shit

let's not sidestep the attitude issues the butch I worked with had. that is *not* exemplary butch behavior. I am glad I know other butches because she was the first one I met IRL who self ID'd as butch and, good grief to say the least. I don't think anyone deserve to have her be their First Intro To IRL Butchiness. (At the time of writing this^^^ I was IDing as a trans nonbinary lesbian & had only ever met one other IRL lesbian, had never met any butches at all, idk why I thought all butches followed Chivalric Code but that's what happens when you read a lot of butch/femme literature before meeting IRL butches and realizing they have the capacity to be... well... normal humans with issues... she still was toxic and a bully though but I want to clarify lol [5/2022])

She was just super fucked up about it all... she would make snide comments to me, wouldn't talk to me at all. Like what? What was her problem? Was her fiancée going to be jealous of her talking to another lesbian or something? Maybe. hmm.

All UPS stores do this but that place gathered dust SO damn fast.

Still fucked up that you literally could not sit down

I WASN'T ALLOWED TO SORT MAIL BUT WAS SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHO EVERY FACE WHO COMES IN THE DOOR WAS? AND GET THEIR MAIL IMMEDIATELY??

The butch I worked with just straight up ordered me not to do any more print for a while like. that was my job. if you can't handle a print mistake then don't do print because it happens literally all the time even on properly maintained and handled machines

no chair to sit down and use the main computer in

was never even taught how to use freight even though that was their main income for quite a while

just... the humiliation of it all

the only nice person there was my manager and I feel like she wasn't too happy about me being fired by the owner either tbqh but again she was one of a whopping four people who worked at that store including me and the owner so like. I would imagine she maybe didn't have any say if the owner said I was fired first lmao

actually was told to contact the labor board about this store and failed to follow up bc I got scared of potential retaliation from the butch so I stopped going to the One gay bar in town that everyone goes too lol

[akiyama-san]

I've noticed your comments about Love Live Sunshine and don't get me wrong, we all have our own opinions and I'm not telling you stop posting your negative thoughts about it, but why do you hate Love Live Sunshine so much? And if you hate it that much, why are you even watching it?

I suppose it comes off as hate doesn’t it? Well despite how it appears, it’s not entirely hate, it’s mostly disappointment, and while that might not sound much better i’ll try to explain what I mean, hopefully to a degree that it can be understood. 

Spose I should start at the top shouldn’t I? 

I think it goes without saying that this point that I didn’t like the original show at all, it had its moments, and 2 or 3 good characters, which isn’t saying much I realize but these casts are fucking bloated of course only a handful will be likeable. The concept seemed really fucking stupid from the outset, and it is, but I’ve seen worst, and as a first attempt by SunRise for an Idol show, to my knowledge, the idea to give it an actual plot to follow was in theory a noble one. It failed completely, but the thought was there. More to the point, almost everyone was completely flat, incredibly stupid, and beyond insufferable. 

I’ll be honest, I can put up with a lot, and if I had chosen to watch it of my own volition I’d probably have been more forgiving of the writers dancing on active fault lines, but at the time some years back, I had several people breathing down my neck to watch the fucking show so I went in pissed off. Don’t get me wrong, that doesn’t change the fact that these characters say and do things that would make me want to hurt a small child, but I would still have been more kind to it in the long run. 

Then the movie happened, and well.... Lets just say the series needed the fucking soft reboot that was Sunshine after that abysmal travesty of a movie that completely deficated on a third of the casts character development. I’m still trying to work out the quantum fucking mechanics of how Honoka could receive her microphone from her future fucking self BTW. 

I openly admitted this at the time, and this is important because this is often overlooked by the crowd. I said that after the failure of the movie, and knowing that a new series was coming, if SunRise could learn from their mistakes, then I would gladly and open-mindedly go into Sunshine with a positive attitude and be kinder to it if the series was able to escape its charred charcoal burned roots. 

Needless to say I was absolutely blown away by how incredibly Sunshine could be at times, and how baffling disgusting and incompetent it could be as well. I stress that Sunshine is wholly the better property I was able to enjoy more than whole episodes and character arcs completely this time around, as opposed to the original where I enjoyed maybe 10 minutes of its total 700 minute run from episode 1 to movie credits. 

The series had incredible characters to start, those already good characters ACTUALLY GREW INTO EVEN BETTER CHARACTERS, THESE CHARACTERS ACTUALLY GROW AND MATURE AND THAT’S INCREDIBLE. I’ll say openly that the second years are some of the best characters I’ve seen in any anime in the past several years, and I would never hope to take away from that. Better was that we actually had rivals that we could see and understand, that weren’t placed on a pedestal for no discernable reason, one that stood on relatively even ground that could be combatted in real time, force growth and change upon both groups. 

At the same time, while the series had heights and feats that rivaled Everest, it also had lows that would put the Mariana Trench to shame. No, I don’t care what anyone says, I will never get over all the bullshit that happened between Mari and Kanan, and how absolutely disgusting Kanan is, even now, refusing to grow up or stop being a cunt or do anything of value to the group you so claim to love. I’ll be generous and say I was fucking disgusted by SunRise repeating what happened with Honoka and Kotori in the first season here with Mari and Kanan, almost beat for beat. It was terrible the first time, and suicidally bad the second time. 

To regain the focus, by then end of it while my opinions were of the mixed nuts variety with plenty of roasted salt, I still gave it a hearty recommendation because I thought it was genuinely pretty good, blue cuntveats notwithstanding. 

NOW

Where my problem overall with Season 2 lies. If it disappointment and wasted potential were a physical force this series could level mountains. 

From the beginning we’re told that we’re on an incredibly strict time crunch and that we need to focus all our efforts hardcore in the second round. 

Only for almost literally all of the first 6 or 7 episodes to be nothing but filler and padding to waste time, where no growth or progression of any kind took place at all, and such wonderful gems as 

Dia: Please call me Dia-Chan.

Chka: No!

and the omnipresent 

Chika: Teach how to do a backflip

Kanan: Not on your fucking life!

Kanan: Oh shit she learned how to do the backflip... 

Where it all came to a head however was with the reveal of just how many students the school actually had, because that was something that was never brought up. The total number of students is 68 when all are accounted for. And the is beyond miserable. 100 fucking students isn’t enough, to maintain the school you need at least 200, but closer to 300. With 68 students the school should’ve closed fucking years ago. The revelation of that number killed the entire fucking show, it made moot the efforts and development of every single fucking character, because no matter what, even if they had gotten 100 students, this same predicament would still inevitably rear its head once again next year or the year fuckin after. 

I want to make clear, more than anyone else on this site, I have authority to speak on this matter, and no one can refute this, hell I’d barely even listen to them if they did because I severely fucking doubt they ever dealt with this sort of thing, if they did they would totally agree with me.

I have come face to face with a school closure myself. 15 years ago the district announced that my Elementary school would be closing, this school with 700 students that churned out some of the best results in the city might I add. It was a hard and long fought battle, it lasted 3 years, but eventually the parents won that war, and it’s still open now. How did they do that? By actually getting involved, going to meetings, talking directly to superintendents and comptrollers, explaining things like how some of them go to work really early or work late, they can’t send their kids anywhere else because they’d never be able to make it to other schools in the morning on time or pick up on time because of how far away they are, how different schools offer different programs, and not all schools offer the same accommodations for special needs children as this one did, ETC. The point is, the parents got active in the fight, the people that might have been able to affect the outcome did, and while it was no easy task, they did it, they actually fucking one that battle. 

I don’t expect even a fraction of that to occur, but to at the same time tell me that the parents don’t know or care at all, much less any of the other fucking 59 students are powerless to help in any meaningful capacity is an absolute load of horse shit. 

Where it started to bring my blood to a boil, nay to a bursting point, was what happened in the last to episodes with Saint Snow. The best song the franchise ever gave us was Self Control, followed by Shocking Party. This is a fact. From a single interaction some of the most intriguing and likeable characters we got were also Saint Snow. For them to be all but ignored in season 2 until 8 fucking episodes in is ludicrous, but for their first appearance in over 10 episodes to be them failing a concert and us not even getting to hear any of the fucking song, is insulting, it’s infuriating, it’s domestic abuse. This isn’t a slap in the face, this is Studio SunRise forcefully shoving their cock in your mouth against your will and punching you in the eyes with brass knuckles for crying about the cock in your mouth. 

Honest to God, if I wasn’t committed to seeing this through, these last two episodes would be my first set my merchandise on fire moment, and that is saying a lot. It might sound like i’m being overdramatic, but honestly there are a lot of people that agree with me on this matter. 

I did a lot of thinking in writing this post and it took me the better part of an hour to write it. I still hold fast on my thoughts about the original, 2/10 garbage. 

I still hold to my opinions of season 1 Sunshine, 7/10 very good. 

But this season? Well let me put it this way, I score every episode and tally the scores at the end, if season one got a 70 percent

Season 2 probably wouldn’t even reach a combined 20/130 

I will still recommend newcomers to Sunshine season 1 absolutely, but I will also absolutely tell them to pretend season 2 never happened, do not watch it because it will make you commit homicide in the aftermath. 

Why do I hate Sunshine Season 2? 

Because SunRise finds new and exciting ways to fail at absolutely everything on every single level every week. I infamously gave the movie a 1/10, in the long run, I think I would sooner rewatch that movie on loop than ever rewatch this season of Sunshine ever again. 

[tamiddyinyourcity]

2:59pm.

Still annoyed at the dude attacking me yesterday night.

That was very "Oblivion by Grimes" of him.

Wait..... shit, thats fucked up, and unrelated. I wasn't sexually assaulted. Just some cunt asshole showed up to release me from my shift, higher than a kite and with a bad attitude off the bat.

He got offended that I didn't immediately know he was releasing me, when nobody told me an entirely different person than before would release me. (Hell, the night before I literally had been at work an additional hour and a half thanks to my boss never realizing that he NEVER got someone else to take on the shift after me.... And of course, the weekend before was when a woman came in with no idea or training of the job whatsoever.)

Then the dude kept finding ways to be aggravated for no fucking reason, calling me stupid, this and that.... Long story short, bad things happened.

May or may not have a job, but I won't know, since my boss hasn't informed me of anything. I texted him after the scuffle happened. And no response was made.

The dude threatened to call the cops last night, but the police don't do shit around here. And even so, it's kind of hard to make yourself look good when you show up to work, reeking of marijuana, as well as going out of your way to insult and belittle/mock/refuse to communicate with the young woman working at the job.

Way to make a girl feel unsafe at night, dude.

Anyway, my mom let me know that sure I could've avoided what was done, but still, he was high and obviously aggressive to me.

No grown man should feel the need to insult and corner a young woman at work like that. Jesus christ.

I wanna take my mind off of it, but I can't. I feel guilty, yknow?

I guess even if charges got pressed, I'd probably want to do community service or something. I technically already have done that before, by choice. If a punishment for what i did has to be doled out, then i imagine that helping others out would be much better.

Or probation, if necessary.

But once again, cops wont do shit. And if I get fired, that'll suck, since it was an easy job and everyone else there liked me. Even the annoying ones or the perverts were still polite about it. I was in such a good mood! I didn't just do the end of my shift like, "Ooh yeah, lets fight a grown man today."

If my boss does go "you're a well put together girl and you do a good job, you can stay", then, amen.

And if I must find a new job.... Fine. I'll probably be okay, finding another desk job for me.

I just gotta take my mind off of it. I hate when that happens. I might wanna get back into therapy, if possible. I just get so annoyed with the shitty app, and struggle to get one online. Plus, not in the mood to Uber all the way across town to the dirtiest hospital ever and request a psychologist.

The coronavirus also is a factor; I recall hacking my lungs out a week ago, and Patrick was saying I should see a doctor.

But, the hospital had notifications that everyone who potentially has cough or flu symptoms needs to call and describe their symptoms, and cannot come to the hospital, and whatnot......

I hate phone calls. Anxiety when I have them with strangers...... So, I never went.

I'm okay, physically. Mentally? Eugh. Shush.

Anyway, I just wanted a peaceful week, and it failed.

I guess all I can do is hope for the best.

....

I wanted to just go home that night, shower, light some candles, drink maybe the smallest cup of wine, and then sleep in, so that I can wake up the next day ready to deep clean my room and feel fucking great.

But instead, that night, I went home, annoyed as hell, showered, prayed as much ad possible, lit some candles, told my mother everything, proceeded to be told by my mother that nothing would even happen since the cops here are useless and i was im the right, drink a looot of wine, and then wake up feeling anxious.

....

I have no idea if anyone knows what went down.

My boss said nothing. Neither did my agency. So..... who knows?

And plus, even if he didnt call the cops last night, he could still file a report at any time....

The cameras barely work at my job, but the one at my desk does..... Idk if they save footage.

Anyway.

Things to remember:

I wanted to quit that job anyway.

Mans was being obnoxious, hostile, and dangerous. Therefore, fuck that guy.

There's more than one good job that exists.

I am still a good person, and always want to do better.

I wouldn't go out of my way to hurt anyone, unless they were a legitimate threat. And if not before, definitely last night.

God, I was already thinking about the Patrick situation and trying to aim to be a more gentle, feminine, and overall less aggressive or potentially intimidating person to those who upset me.

But, doesn't mean I was gonna be that stoner's punching bag for his issues last night.....

Life goes on. Sigh.

I had a list of tasks to do, but my bulletin board fell down behind my dresser... and to get to it, i have to climb the Mt Everest amount of bullshit in my room..... to receive the list of steps for HOW to remove all my hoarded junk and messy disheveled items.

Which is exhausting to even imagine. But, thats the inner procrastinator in me talking.

Which seems better: a room full of bullshit, or a pretty place to rest and read books, hang up dresses, and store my shoes?

Let's get to it.

[idontneedtobeforgiven]

holy shit i literally have no words for your vm fic on ao3 it was so good! now i'm dying to know the story of how tessa gave scott his first bj 😏

Aw thank you! Originally, I got the idea of Scott teaching Tessa how to drive as something just purely fluffy but then I added it to this story and just made it smutty lmao. Here’s a very short, rough drabble as to how that went down 

This is not a short and rough drabble. This somehow became 3330 words of how Scott received his first blowjob. It’s probably garbage but HERE YA GO!

Teaching Tessa how to drive is kind of pointless. Her parents gave her Kevin’s old car for her to learn on and Tessa rolls her eyes when Scott tells her to just take it slow, to ease her foot on the pedal. She pulls on to the empty stretch of road like she’s been driving for years. “It’s not that difficult,” she says, checking the rear view mirror and over her shoulder before she changes lanes. “I’ve been watching you drive forever. It’s just a confidence game.”

The next time he takes her out, it’s in his truck which is a stick, and this doesn’t come easy to her in the least bit. She gets this look on her face that he’s only seen on the ice before, an angry calm that wrinkles her brow and turns down the corner of her lips. The truck dies five times and they haven’t even left the side of the road, only made it a few feet down from where Scott parked it to begin with.

Tessa isn’t a quitter but he knows she’s getting frustrated with herself so he opens up the glove compartment and pulls out the chocolate she had stashed there. “I don’t deserve any,” she says when he holds out a square and Scott rolls his eyes and throws the chocolate at her anyway.

“You’re not going to get it in one day, T. I didn’t.”

She picks up the piece of chocolate that landed on the seat between them, blows off some fuzz and pops it in her mouth. “I guess.”

Scott reaches over, turns the keys to the off position. They pass the chocolate back and forth, talking about nothing and everything. It’s nice in a weird way, because it hasn’t been this easy between them in a few years. It’s probably mostly his fault but he wouldn’t say that aloud, ever.

For the next week on their way home from training, he drives them to this same stretch of road and Tessa fails to get them very far from where they start. She’s still annoyed each time but it always ends in them spending at least an hour talking when she gives up for the night (or when he tells her she needs to stop because he doesn’t want his truck to completely fuck up). He tells her about breaking up with his girlfriend and how his teacher thinks he should go up a math course. She tells him about the dissection in her bio class and how her mom keeps pushing for her to go on birth control.

“I can’t afford the weight gain,” she sighs before picking up their shared gatorade and taking a sip. “Besides, it’s not like I’m doing anything down there.”

“Tess,” he groans and she rolls her eyes as she passes him the drink.

“Shut up, it’s not like I don’t know you’re having sex. Don’t be such a baby.”

“You’re fourteen,” he says, trying to defend how uncomfortable he is at the thought of Tessa like that.

“You had sex two days before your fifteenth birthday,” she deadpans. “Besides, you still look like you’re fourteen.”

“Rude,” he grumbles. She rolls her eyes again as he recaps the drink and she fishes a carrot out of the plastic baggy between them. “You’re not though, right?”

“Having sex?” He nods. “No, I told you, nothing is going on down here,” she says, motioning to her pelvis with her carrot before she takes a bite. “Well, nothing with a penis.”

“Tessa,” he moans, hand coming up to rub at his face. “I don’t want to hear this.”

“You asked!”

It’s silent for a moment and yeah, he has to do this. He knows Tessa can take care of herself but he’s a teenage boy and he knows that all teenage boys are douches. “You’re not doing anything you don’t want to do right?” He doesn’t look at her while he speaks, hopes that he’s not pink in the face with the fact that he’s talking to Tessa about sex. Period talk he can handle. This, he cannot.

“I promise that I’m only doing things I want to do,” she says. He feels her hand on his and he looks up to find her smiling at him. “Thanks for worrying though.”

The next week, Tessa manages to keep his truck alive long enough to pull out on the road but that’s about as far she she can get. He tries to get her comfortable just using the clutch, taking control of the stick shift while she focuses solely on getting her feet right. It helps at least get them back over to the side of the road and when he asks if she wants to try again, she shrugs and tells him to pull out the snacks she packed in her bag.

They talk about making the potential switch to online classes. She worries that it’ll isolate them too much, won’t give them enough time to keep up with friendships outside of the skating world, and he’s inclined to agree. He brings up the fact that online classes could at least help them move faster, bringing up how bored she is with her English and history courses and mentions again how bored he is in his math class.

He finishes off the kale chips she made and she looks deep in thought and he’s expecting her to go quite for a while when suddenly she looks at him, face blank. “When was the last time you got off?” He looks at her like she’s grown three heads and she lets out the heaviest sigh. “Scott, you were getting hard during practice today. That hasn’t happened since you were like, thirteen.”

“Sorry,” he says in lieu of anything else and his face feels like it’s on fire.

“I don’t care,” she says. “I just thought you might.” He hopes that’s the end of it but Tessa doesn’t let it go. “I know you’re single now but-”

“Please do not continue-”

“You should mast-”

“Tessa, stop-”

“It’s a natural part of life, Scott!”

“I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Okay, even if you don’t want to take care of yourself, surely there are other girls who will-”

“Tessa,” he shouts, putting his hand over her mouth. Her eyes go wide above his hand. “I’m not talking about my dick with you.” Her eyebrows drop down and then his hand is wet and he pulls it back, wiping where she licked on his jeans.

“We talk about my period, why can’t we talk about this?” He doesn’t look at her, just opens his door and tells her to slide across the bench.

Another week passes and Tessa manages to get her foot work down. They can make it down the road so long as Scott is the one controlling the stick shift and Tessa looks so proud of herself that Scott knows he’s smiling like an idiot. He thinks she could try working the stick after the U turn she takes but after shifting into the wrong gear three times and his truck makes a scary noise, he takes back over.

When they pull over to have their snacks (this time he brought cookies that his mom sent down and they picked up some chocolate milk from the corner store they pass on their way to the rink), Tessa turns so her back is resting on the door, legs pulled up on to the seat. “You know Lily, right?” He nods. “I bet she’d go out with you if you asked.”

He cocks his head to the side. “Okay…”

Tessa wiggles in her seat. “She puts out,” Tessa says nonchalantly, picking out the m&ms from the cookie in her hand.

“Are we really talking about this again?”

Tessa shrugs. “You got hard at practice again.” He groans, apology on the tip of his tongue but Tessa just sticks out a foot, pokes his thigh. “It’s fine. I just think you should take care of yourself.”

“I don’t want to fuck Lily.”

“Nobody said you had to have sex with her.”

“What else would I do?” He watches her stare at him blankly for a moment before she does the crudest thing he has ever seen a girl do (and he’s had sex so this is saying a lot). She moves her lips into the shape of an O, tongue pushing out the side of one of her cheeks, fist coming towards her mouth to move in time with her tongue. “Oh my god,” he groans. “I can’t believe you just- Oh my god.” He screws his eyes shut and shakes his head. “No. I’m not- Girls don’t even like doing that.”

Tessa blinks, once, twice, then, very timidly, says, “I do.” His head jerks up to look at her and she looks nervous now, like she hasn’t just been matter-of-factly been talking about sex with him a few times now. “Is that weird?”

He stutters a little, unsure of how to handle this. “I think you’re probably the minority in this case, T.” Tessa looks thoughtful, staring not really at him but definitely in his direction. “I wouldn’t ever ask a girl to do that if she didn’t want to…” He swallows hard. He’s never asked any girl he’s been with for a blowjob, never felt the need to. He knows that most girls just see it as a chore and he’s sure it’s great (his brothers tell him it is) but if sex, actual sex, is on the table, why wouldn’t he just go for that? It’s so, so weird to hear that Tessa’s given blowjobs and he tries to tell himself it’s because she’s younger, tries to tell himself it’s because it’s Tessa, who he’s known since she was seven, tries to tell himself that it’s because he didn’t expect Tessa to do something before him when it came to sex. He tries to ignore the way his boxers start to tighten and god, no, no, no.

Tessa’s definitely staring at him now, considering. Then, she licks her lips and says, “I’ll blow you.” His reaction is to scoff or maybe to laugh but his dick twitches like an absolute traitor and words get lodged in his throat until something akin to a whine and a groan snakes its way out. He lets out a heavy breath through his nose and his hands have clenched into fists at his side. He starts to shake his head but Tessa rolls her eyes at him (and god, she’s doing that so much now, it’s so irritating). “If it’s going to stop you from getting a semi every practice, I’m happy to do it.”

It sounds like some sort of pity blowjob and no, that’s not how his first blowjob is going to go down.

“What,” she asks, voice about an octave higher than normal. He looks at her confused and she continues. “You’ve never had a blowjob?”

“I said that out loud,” he practically yells and she breaks into a fit of laughter while he feels like leaving her here in his truck while he walks home. “Tess,” he groans and he can hear her working to slow her breathing in an effort to stop her giggling. “Can we please just pretend this entire day didn’t happen?”

“Nope,” she says, lips popping the word out. She moves the cookies out of the middle of the seat so she can slide closer to him. She leaves space to breathe, space for him to bolt if he needs to. “Scott?” She says his name slow and measured. “Can you look at me please?” He does even though he feels like dying and it really just is so unfair that she looks older than he does. “Can I blow you,” she asks sincerely and Scott really cannot believe this is happening.

“You don’t ha-”

“I want to,” she’s quick to add and that seems like something they should probably talk about. “I told you, I like doing it. And it’ll help you cool off for practices.” She gives a little shrug. “It’s a win-win.”

This seems like a bad idea. No, he’s almost certain this is a bad idea. But he can feel himself getting flustered more now that she’s closer and saying all this stuff and before he fully realizes it, he’s nodding and she’s smiling and her hands are on his sweats.

He wants to touch her too, thinks he should, but he doesn’t know if that’s allowed. He tucks his hands under his thighs so he doesn’t accidentally do something that’ll make her hate him (or him hate himself). Her fingers hook under the waistband of his clothes and he lets his head fall back, not sure he can handle watching her do this. It’s uncomfortably quiet in the cab of his truck and he almost wants to stop her so that they can put on some music but then he hears her spit and then a wet hand wraps around his half hard dick, grip just right. She strokes him a few times and his breathing has definitely gotten heavier and he thinks that hers has too but it’s hard to focus with his heart beating so hard in his ears.

“Condom,” she asks once he’s fully hard in her hand.

“Backpack.” It’s cold when she pulls away to reach into the backseat, his dick left bobbing in the air but she makes quick work of finding the condom that was thankfully still in there. She rolls it on him easily and it makes his stomach churn thinking about how often she’s done this. Not that there’s anything wrong with it if she has done this a lot. It’s just not something he expected from Tessa. Tessa who he’s known since she was seven.

How is he letting this happen?

“Oh,” she mutters and that doesn’t sound good. “How long has this been in your backpack?”

He opens his eyes, finds her looking at his dick most concerned. He looks down, sees the slight rip in the condom at the side about half way down. “Shit,” he sighs but then, maybe this is the sign he’s been looking for. They really shouldn’t be doing this and this is a sign.

She drags the condom off his dick and his hips jump into her hand. She pauses. “Are you clean?”

She still wants to do this.

Holy sweet hell.

“You’d know if I went to the doctor,” he says because it’s true. Sometimes it feels like he can’t even take a shit without Tessa knowing they spend so much of their time together.

Tessa considers this and then gives a little nod. “Okay,” she says and then she’s scooting back, broken condom dropped to the floorboard. He needs to remember to throw that out when he gets home.

She’s given herself enough space to bend forward comfortably and when her tongue first grazes his dick, he bites his lip so hard, he’s sure it’s going to bleed.

Her tongue licks the length of him twice, her hand coming to wrap tight around the base of his cock when her mouth moves to take him in. She starts slow, first only taking in the head of his cock while her hand shortly strokes him. Her mouth is so warm, so wet, and her tongue is rigid as it swirls around him. With each bob of her head, she takes him a little deeper, keeps working her hand in time with her mouth.

He still hasn’t looked down at her but then he feels the soft scrape of her teeth and his hips jerk, pushing himself deeper than she’s gone so far and his eyes open wide. He didn’t mean to do that, hopes she isn’t upset, but, even though he can hear her choke a little, she moans. She moans loud and he feels the vibrations around him and he digs his hands into the seat underneath him.

Tessa pulls him out of her mouth and oh, there’s so much saliva hanging from her mouth, connecting her to his dick which glistens with her. “You can do that again,” she pants, looking him in the eye. He can’t stop looking at her swollen lips or the way her eye make up has started to run. It’s like he’s seeing her for the very first time again and his heart stutters in his chest and his dick twitches in her grip. She bends back down, head bobbing twice before she pulls off him again slowly, cheeks hollowed and eyes looking up at him. With her free hand, she taps his arm. “You can touch me, if you want,” she says, running her tongue over her lips. “I don’t mind if you pull my hair… I like it.”

How he doesn’t immediately cum in her hand, Scott has no idea.

She’s on him again, wrist twisting as it glides over him, mouth and tongue taking more and more and more until he can feel her swallow around him. Hesitantly, he puts a hand to her hair, lets his fingers thread through the tangled locks. Like a reward, she moves faster, her teeth coming into play again. He grips the hair at the base of her skull and when he gives it an experimental tug, the whine she releases is muffled by his cock.

Motivated by her noises, he keeps a strong hold on her hair and he must be doing something right because Tessa seems to go into overdrive. She sucks him off hard and deep, her nose brushing his thigh, and the hand that had been aiding her has moved down to cup his balls through his pants. It makes him jerk into her mouth again. No one else has ever done that before.

She rolls them softly in her hand and Scott can feel himself sweating, his breath coming in harsh pants. “T,” he groans, trying to actually pull her off him because if she keeps going, he’s going to cum in her mouth. “T,” he repeats. “I’m gonna cum.”

To his complete and utter surprise, she gives him a thumbs up and stays on his dick. In fact, her efforts seem to double down and she only manages to bob her head three more times before he seizes in her mouth. She tries, he can tell, to swallow it all, but her head isn’t in the right spot or maybe her lips aren’t tight enough around him and so some spills out, running from her mouth and down the sides of his cock. She keeps sucking though, keeps going until his dick settles and softens in her mouth.

She leans back on her knees, lips and chin covered in a mixture of his cum and her saliva and he can feel the stirrings of arousal low in his belly even though he just came.

She looks like a glorious mess. She wipes at her face with her hands, takes her fingers in her mouth to clean them and she looks so proud of herself, lips puffy and red stretching into a shy smile. Shy, like she didn’t just have his dick in his mouth, like the taste of his cum isn’t on her tongue.

“Jesus fucking christ, Tessa,” he breathes out. She smiles a little wider and grabs his water bottle from where the cupholder, pushing it into his shaking hand. Oh, he’s shaking. Jesus.

“What’re friends for,” she says and takes the bottle back from him to take a swig of her own. He feels like he needs to do something in return and the thought of touching Tessa like she just touched him sends his head spinning. She seems to read his mind and shakes her head. “I’m on my period,” she reminds him. “But let’s just say you owe me one when I need it?”

All Scott can do is nod.