#nothing sounds good which is annoying because usually one specific thing my period is like yes that’s it we have to have that

[planetsallalign]

Why yes I’ve been up since 4:30am thanks to the time change. Cats don’t understand daylight savings. Especially now that Maeve is on her wet food only prescription diet. She’s HUNGRY by 5am and usually I can keep her at bay till about 6am. Which with the time change means we’re now doing this at 4am.

She doesn’t yell or try to paw at me. Oh no, she purrs her heart out while rubbing her face all over me and licking any piece of skin she can find. While jumping on the bed going “brrrpppp!” in the cutest way. Or she patiently sits on the nightstand just staring and purring. I would be so annoyed if she wasn’t so freaking cute and sweet about it. Meanwhile Rocket is in bed on his heated blanket and won’t get out of bed till about 10am.

Now I’m trying to not get out of bed till at least 6am. So I’m online shopping for flannel sheets. And considering a nice memory foam mattress topper. My period also showed up to surprise me over a week early. With cramps that make it so I double over in the worst pain I’ve ever had from them. I’m going to be making a full pot of coffee for today.

[lizzy-williams]

❝𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚠𝚋𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 & 𝚌𝚒𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚜❞

ღWarnings: SMUT (18+ please!), language, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), sexual situations.

ღMasterlist

ღRequest: Can you do the most dirty hard good sexy lovely spanking doggy position french kiss smut EVER please PLEASE with tom 🙂🪓

ღSummary: You’re been in a mood almost all week, Tom having to leave right on Valentine’s Day for filming. The day before he has to leave, you’re the meanest you’ve been, and Tom’s had about enough. 

ღA/n: ANON YOU DIRTY BEAN I LOVE YOU. This will be the first thing I’m posting since I came back, So I hope you guys enjoy, feel free to send in more requests. 

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 in a mood the entire week. More specifically at your boyfriend, who chose a job that somehow, someway got him taken away right on Valentine’s Day. 

Even worse, this would be your 5th Valentine’s Day together, which you saw as a mile stone. You knew you were being irrational and a bit selfish, but you were too blinded by your anger to realize it. 

For the time being, you were giving Tom hell, inside and outside your small flat. On Monday, you and Tom went out for coffee, but of course, being the little minx you are, you teased him right then and there, in public, and you managed to turn Tom into a needy, whiny child with only a few touches.  

But when the two of you got home, you did a full 180, becoming completely distanced and untouchable, evading every advance Tom tried to make on you. You just kept all your attention on Tessa for a majority of that day. 

At first, Tom was clueless, the sudden distancing confusing the hell out of him, but it only escalated from there. 

On Tuesday, you had some things to do for work, and there you sat on the couch, typing away on your computer before Tom, still flustered and needy from yesterday, came waltzing into the living area and plopped down right next to you, resting his head on your shoulder. 

Yet you sat there, still typing away, acting as if Tom wasn’t there at all. Tom adjusted himself a few times, seeing if his movements gained any attention or reaction from you. Still. Nothing. 

Now he resulted to sighing loudly, and due to where his head was, it was right in your ear. It was erotic or teasing, it was just straight up annoying and childish. 

You finally pried your eyes away from the screen and turned to look at him, “Do you want something?” was all the response he was going to get, and even then it was a grumble. 

“I wanna cuddle.” 

He sounded so much like a kid, and in any other circumstance, you would tend to his request. But no. You were mad at him. 

“I’m working, Tom.”

That’s when Tom knew something was definitely wrong. No usual ‘bubba’ or ‘bub’. Not even honey. Just his first name. Not even his full first name. Just Tom. 

You felt him recoil and slip away into the other room. 

Tom: 0, You: 2

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Wednesday rolled around, and Tom was talking to Harrison on the phone. Once again, you had been giving him the bare minimum all day, but when you kissed him, it was long, passionate and lingering. And Tom was, to say the least, baffled. 

“I dunno, man, she’s been like this all week.” 

You happened to be in earshot, and slipped behind a doorframe, listening in on what Tom had to say. 

“No, I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong. I’ve even been making an effort to put the toilet seat down, and somehow she keeps being so distant. I even tried hugging her from behind this morning and she just brushed me off.”

That one was true. You were making yourself lunch when Tom, who woke up late as usual, came into the kitchen and wrapped his arms lovingly around your waist, but staying true to your previous attitude, you brushed him off, using the stove as an excuse. But instead of reassuring him, like you normally would have, you turned and gave him a purple and red hickey on his sweet spot before turning back around and acting as if nothing had happened at all. 

“No, it’s not that time of the month, she already had it. I kinda know these things.”

That was also true. Because you and Tom had such a frequent and vibrant sex life, he made it a personal mission to know when your period came so he could work around it and comfort you. All things aside, he truly was a good boyfriend. 

“Ohhhhh,” he made a sound of realization and it made you perk up a little, wondering if he truly understood why you were so evasive. 

Wait, did he?

The sound of his footsteps clamoring down the hall made you frantically look around for something to look busy with. 

“Darling?” he called out. 

“In here!” you called out, trying to sound unbothered. 

“Ah, Darling,” he seemed giddy, as if he had just solved the worlds biggest mystery, “I know why your angry at me.”

“Oh?” you questioned, as you kept fiddling with whatever you were doing, acting as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. 

“You were upset about the paparazzi pictures. The ones with Ciara.” 

“What?!” you seethed, now not caring about acting like you didn’t care. 

“Th-The other day, when I went out to lunch, you knew about it...?” he was terrified by the look in your eyes. 

He was being honest. He did say he was going out with the female co-star, and you were okay with it. You trusted him. But what you didn’t think about were the tabloids. The gossip sights that would no doubt leak into Twitter, causing an un-needed uprising in Hollanders and shippers. 

Immediately you pushed passed him and went straight for your phone, looking up news sight after news sight. 

Ciara Bravo and Tom Holland: New Hollywood Couple???

Tom & Ciara, A Valentine’s Day Miracle

Did Y/N and Tom SPLIT? Ciara and Tom Spotted!

At this point you couldn’t stand to be in the same room as Tom. Despite him and you understanding there was nothing going on, the outside world put pressure on the both of you, and you needed to breathe. 

Tom didn’t say a word when you got your coat and left with a ‘I’m going out. Don’t wait up.’

By time you got home, Tom slept on the couch, and you slept in the bed. 

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Tuesday was quiet, nothing happened. The two of you didn’t speak to each other, a day going by silently, but when you were going to bed, that’s when things got interesting. 

“It isn’t my fault.”

He stood in the bathroom as he spoke, and you were on the bed reading a book with Tessa at your side, sound asleep. 

You gave a small, unbothered sigh, “I know.”

Tom perked up, “What do you mean, ‘you know’?” he asked irritably. 

“I mean I know it isn’t your fault about the media. I don’t care, it’s fine.”

“Then why are you so mad at me?!” he was annoyed now, making you raise a brow. 

“You really don’t know?” you hissed, closing your book, not caring if you lost your page or not. 

“No, of course I don’t know!”

“You’re leaving me! On Valentines Day!” you snapped, standing up, Tessa’s ears going back. 

“Are you serious??? That’s it?” he questioned with wide eyes. 

You glared at him, giving him an expression that only meant one thing, slipping out of the room without a word. 

Needless to say, you slept on the couch that night .

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Friday. The day before Tom leaves. The day before Valentine’s day. 

And as always, you woke up before Tom, hearing Tessa scratch at the bedroom door from the inside. You walked down the hall, turning the bedroom door handle slowly and letting Tessa out the door, but not before catching a glimpse of your sleeping boyfriend in nothing but boxers, holding onto your pillow as he slept. 

Thats when the idea popped into your head. You were going to make a lovely Valentine’s day themed breakfast. For yourself.

If there was any way to get Tom back, it was with food, your food more specifically. 

You immediately got to work, prepping the veggies for the omelette, mixing the batter for waffles, and washing the strawberries, planning on using them for a garnish.

You worked for a good hour, almost everything done, the last thing being cutting the strawberries when you suddenly heard the bedroom door open. 

Tom walked out, his curly hair all a mess on top of his head, purposefully not wearing anything except for his Calvin’s, and you shamelessly checked him out, in hopes that would get him going. 

Before he got too close, you whipped back around and began slicing in the berries in front of you. Just like he did the many mornings ago, he let his arms wrap around you right before you felt him leave a small peck below your earlobe, and you had to bite back a smile. 

“Good morning, darling.”

Fuck. His morning voice. It was rough, deep, and gravely, making your stomach do summersaults and slick glisten between your legs. 

“Morning.” 

The sexual tension was palpable, so thick you could cut it with the knife in your hand. But you needed to stay strong. You were mad. You were still mad....

Right?

“Are those for me?” he questioned, motioning to the breakfast platter you had spread on the kitchen island, complete with a glass of OJ. 

You did a silent self-pat on the back. 

“Nope,” you smirked, before popping a strawberry in your mouth. 

His demeanor switched, “That’s it-”

You squeaked as he took the knife from your hands, throwing it into the sink before sweeping his hands across the counter, knocking the cutting board aside, roughly grabbing your hips and putting you on the counter. 

“I’ve just about had it with your attitude,” he growled, pulling his semi-hard-on out of his boxers before grabbing the back of your neck, pulling you into a messy, lustful kiss, his tongue diving in the instant that his lips touched yours, making you whimper out, trying you best to regain control of the situation but failing quickly. 

A sudden smack to your ass made you quit your pursuit of control, a whine finding it’s way out of your throat as you felt him smirk into the kiss. His tongue prodded around your mouth as you held onto him desperately. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him closer, his member pressing right up against your clothed clit, daring him to do whatever he was going to do next. 

Suddenly, he picked you up off the counter, breaking the kiss and pushing you down to your knees, harshly, shoving his member against your cheek. 

“Suck. I’m not gonna ask nice again,” he grunted, and you knew that he would keep his word with this one. 

You hesitantly took him in your hands before stocking him slightly, sticking your tongue out and licking a strip from his base to his tip, before taking it in your mouth, using your tongue to tease the angry veins and ridges on the underside of his cock. 

“Oh - FUCK - you’re so fucking precious.” he hissed, his hand weaving in your hair before pulling you down on his cock, going so deep it touched the back of your throat, praying that your gag reflex was on your side. 

Suddenly he pulled you back, before pulling you all the way back onto him, tears welling up in your eyes as he repeated his movements, using your face and whispering obscenities into the air around you, harshly fucking your mouth. 

“My bratty girl, shit, you sound so much better choking on my cock,” he grunted, his pace suddenly faltering, cock twitching, signaling he was about to release. 

He looked down and his eyes widened as he caught sight of your hips moving slowly and gently. You were so cute like that, humping the air like a little bunny, Tom taking immense pride in the fact that he made you like this. 

Without another warning, you felt his cum fill the back of your throat, making you whine as you had no choice to swallow it all, knowing he wouldn’t take his cock out of your mouth until you did so. 

Tom watched tentatively for the bobbing of your throat. The one indication that you swallowed. You shivered slightly as you felt the salty substance make it’s way down your throat, and he finally, finally, pulled himself out, and you gasped for air. 

Tom admired your fucked out state, tears wetting your cheeks and your lips swollen, hair ruined from his grip. He could have you looking like that...

He used one hand to stroke and caress your cheek, the other smoothing out your hair the best he could before standing you back up, your eyes dazed as you looked at him with pleading eyes, your past angers forgotten as you were desperate for his touch. 

“Go to the bedroom, strip, lay down, ass up darling. Wait. You touch yourself and I’ll leave you there for the rest of the night, understand?” he hissed before you nodded, scampering off down the hall.

˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚

 You waited on the bed as you were told, your back arched as you put your ass in the air, your head resting in your arms as you scowled slightly impatiently. It had been 5 minutes since Tom promised he’d be back, and yet there you were. 

You began to play with the sheets between you fingers as you sighed quietly to yourself. But your head propped up slightly when you heard the sound of the door swinging open, a now completely nude Tom stepping through, a small box in his hands. 

“I was going to wait until tomorrow, but now seems like a much more... fitting time,” his smile was devious as he opened the small box, pulling out a thick, bullet shaped piece of equipment. 

Right as he twisted the bottom, you heard it buzz softly, and the realization hit you like a ton a bricks: the realization that this was going to be a long night. He stalked around you like a predator trying to catch pray, and you felt the bed dip behind you, and you heard him let out a sigh of content as he looked at your completely wet pussy, courtesy of the events earlier in the kitchen. 

“Fuck, you look so pretty all wet like this for me... this is for me, right darling?” he kneaded your ass in his hands before you could answer, “Who am I kidding, of course it’s for me.”

You knew what was coming next, knowing how much Tom loved your ass, and jus as expected, you felt his tongue lick a long, rough lick from your clit to your rim, making you jolt forwards slightly. 

Soon enough you felt two of his fingers plunge inside of your pussy, making you moan sweetly into the open air of the bedroom. His movements made the coil inside you tighten and spark, your need for release becoming more and more apparent. 

But the sudden buzzing on your clit made you lose your mind, release coming sooner than expected, your cunt squeezing around Tom’s fingers like a vice as you moaned out, breathless as his pace never faltered, his speed, (if anything), increasing as your body shook. 

Even after your high was ridden out, he continued, making you gasp. 

“T-Tom, I can’t, I can’t I- AHHH!” your babbling was cut of by another sudden shock through your cunt, making you scream out in such quick pleasure. 

“Holy fuck, so wet-” Tom was in awe of your actions, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what just happened. 

You just squirted. 

Tom wasted no time getting down there and sucking your clit harshly, his movements driving you crazy as you tried to collect your thoughts and make a complete sentence. 

He was so high on you, so drunk on your taste as he continued to taste and tease every part of your most sensitive place. 

“P-Please Tom,” you begged, shifting. 

Please what? Please keep going? Please stop?

“Please fuck me,” 

It was a soft whimper, oh so soft, but he heard it, and it drove him crazy. He sat up and positioned his newly hardened, throbbing member up to your entrance. Without a second thought, he pushed in the tip with ease. 

You silently thanked god for the slick of your cunt as he drove in farther, and to your surprise, he waited. Waited until you were ready. He knew that no matter how many times he fucked you, you would always be tighter than hell. So he waited. He always did. 

But as soon as you nodded, his demeanor flipped again like a light switch, drawing himself out and slamming himself back in. Soon enough he set a rough and punishing pace, throwing you back onto him like a rag-doll as your body went limp, letting him use you. 

You jerked when you felt him land a slap on your ass, knowing he enjoyed the way it move after he did so, before kneading the flesh, planning on repeating his actions. 

You were whimpering and keening at his movements and pants, the feeling of him pounding into you taking you over, and the only thing you could think about was him. 

Him, him, him.

Not the fact that he had to leave the following morning, or the fact that the tabloids were a nuisance. Just that fact that you were completely fucked out and it wasn’t even noon yet. 

“Shit, darling, so. Fucking. Good,” he grunted, punctuating his final words with harsh, long, hard thrusts, accompanied with slaps to your already sensative ass. 

His pace was faltering, dick twitching, his pants getting more frequent and louder. You knew he was getting close, the sight of you so out of it only spurring it on. 

“C-Cum for me, Tommy,” you whimpered, making his thrusts almost come to a full halt, “Cum inside me, please,”

Tom knew you were on the pill, and it was always for other reasons, and he usually pulled out, more as a personal preference to you. But now that you wanted him to claim you, so intimately and so passionately, his movements went from 0 to 100, before he felt himself snap. 

This of course made you plummet backwards off the cliff of ecstasy, the both of you coming together as a symphony of moans and whines and growls filled the air around you, your body feeling as if it were floating as your ears rang. 

˚｡⋆୨୧˚˚୨୧⋆｡˚

You both fucked like rabbits till noon, the both of you feeling drunk off each other’s touch, just not getting enough. You were both starved all week after all. And it took it’s toll. 

By time you two were done, your body was weak, your muscles completely spent and you heartbeat doing it’s best to settle down. You felt Tom’s arms help pull you up, laying you on your back and disappearing into the bathroom. 

When he came back, it was with a warm, wet washcloth, and be began slowly wiping up his mess, whispering praise and words of admiration while doing so. You found your eyes closing as you basked in the attention and after-glow of orgasm. He was completely in love with you, he couldn’t stop if he tried. 

Tossing the rag off the the side, you felt the area beside you dip before you were greeted with Tom’s arms, once again, finding home around your body, and you immediately leaned into his touch, laying your head softly on his chest as he played with your hair. 

The both of you enjoyed the silence. His other hand drifted up and down your arm, making goosebumps erupt in its wake, the space to think being larger than life. 

Finally, you spoke. 

“I’m sorry.” you muttered, holding him just a little bit closer. But Tom being Tom, you knew he would milk it as much as he could. 

“For?”

You sighed, embarrassed that you had to admit it out loud, “For being a bitch all week. I was just angry. It wasn’t fair to you. Ergo, I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted. But you’re buying me coffee on the way to the airport tomorrow morning,” he insisted. 

That’s when your senses finally took in the fact that it was still light outside. The clock on your bedside table read a shocking 12:23 pm, and you let a small smirk creep across your face at the Valentine’s Day sex you were truly going to be missing out on. 

Sure, it still made you sad that he was leaving. But knowing Tom, you knew he would do something special for you, no matter how far away you were. Besides, there was hours of Facetime sex to be had, and you couldn’t wait for that. 

“Do you want lunch?” you questioned quietly, your hand gently gliding up and down Tom’s abs, which always felt like you were touching marble stone. 

“Yeah. You’re buying though,” he contested, and you smirked. 

“Nope. I’m making. I was thinking tomato soup and grilled cheese,” 

You knew it was one of Tom’s favorites, one of the few things on this planet that Tom would die for, (besides you, of course).

“That would be lovely, darling.”

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“I’m gonna miss the fuck outta you,” you whined, standing at the gates, your doe eyes peering up at him as you held his hands. 

“I’ll be back before you know it, love, and you can text me and call me at the end of every day. I can even fly you out to visit if you want.”

Tom was doing his best to soften the blow of him leaving; it was hard on both of you, and it was supposed to be for 2 months. 8 weeks. 56 days. You hated it. 

“Love you,” you grumbled like a child, before hugging him with all your might, trying to remember this feeling to keep you company. 

“I love you most,” he challenged, making you pull back to rest your chin on his chest before leaning up and giving him a kiss, but it turned heated quickly. 

Before it could get any more hot and heavy (because the paparazzi are VULTURES), you pulled away. 

“I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you more,” you replied. 

Suddenly the lady on the overhead speakers began to talk, “All first class passengers on flight 32-B to Atlanta, Georgia, is now boarding.”

“That’s me,” he sighed. 

Tears pricked your eyes unexpectantly, and before Tom could see them, you gave him one last, rib crushing hug. 

He pulled back with a smile, waving a wordless goodbye, walking away, but not without giving you one last look, mouthing the words:

‘Happy Valentine’s Day’

THANK YOU FOR 1K!!!!! YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING AND I LOVE YOU!!!

[fruitcoops]

hello my gorgeous eve! hope you are well! just wondering if you have any tips for uni (or college for you americans :D) i start next week and am moving to the city. i am slightly terrified !!

Hello! Great question! I am by no means the leading authority on this, but I'll drop a couple of thoughts below the cut:

1. It's okay that you're afraid! Probably a good thing, actually. Just try not to let the nerves completely overwhelm you, which leads to...

2. Making time for your hobbies! Blocking out an actual period of time to step away from your work and do something enjoyable is so, so important to hold off burnout and feeling like you're drowning in school.

3. If you can, be social. Try things on a whim. Nobody is expecting you to choose one specific thing right now and stick with it forever, so sign up for a million different clubs and then figure out which ones you like best/ want to devote time and energy to. You'll make a lot more friends this way, too.

**Important note: every other person there is just as freaked out and nervous as you are! They won't think you're annoying for seeking out a friendship!

4. Let your mind change. Uni/ college is THE time to change your mind and figure yourself out. Whether that's your major, your hobbies, or your extracurriculars, it's healthy and normal to start out with one thing and transition to another.

5. WATERBOTTLE. Waterbottle waterbottle waterbottle and a sponge, because that thing will get nasty if you don't clean it. Get a large one so you can get more water out of a single refill (it can be tricky to find water fountains).

6. Eat food. This might sound so stupid, but it is frighteningly easy to forget about eating when everything and everyone is new to you. Find a place (on or off campus) that you enjoy, and set alarms for meals or write it down in your planner or whatever works. If nothing sticks, at least keep snacks in your room so you can refuel between activities. This is vital.

7. Twenty minutes of closing your eyes is just as good as a nap sometimes. Take time to rest, even if it's laying on your bed and chilling for half an hour, or your body will do it for you and it won't be pretty.

8. Accept the fact that you'll get a cold. It will happen. You'll probably feel gross and sticky for 4-7 days and wish you never left home, and then you'll feel better. Make sure you hydrate and take hot showers.

9. Since you're moving to a city, find some buddies and go check it out! There are bound to be cool things close to your school and you might find a place you really enjoy for the rest of your time in uni.

10. If you start to hate your teachers and your classes and think it's all boring review, try to keep in mind that this is the very first semester. It's all about getting people on the same page. The more fun stuff usually comes in the second semester at the earliest, so use this time to get your bearings instead of second-guessing yourself.

I am so so proud of you for doing something so brave, anon! It takes guts to move out of your comfort zone--best of luck, and please keep me updated if you'd like! You've got at least one person rooting for you <3

[shes-coming-clean]

Green Day Documentary Reviews Pt 2

The last one of these seemed to make people happy, and because my brain refuses to think about anything but this band right now, might as well do something productive with that. So here is part 2!

Today’s doc: Green Day: Born To Be (2016)

I decided to get this one over with because I didn’t remember liking it the first time, and wow, it’s even worse than I remember. So this review is going to be a lot more negative overall because oof this one pisses me off. Honestly, one of its strongest qualities is that its only 24 minutes, so at least you don’t have to suffer too long.

Pros

* It focuses on their lives from childhood up through American Idiot and includes a decent amount of detail.

* They don’t have any present day interviews recorded specifically for this documentary, which means they have to get really creative piecing old interviews together to tell a coherent story. And they do that well...about half the time (more on that later)

* There are Portuguese subtitles so that’s nice. We love accessibility in this house

* There is a mention of Two Dollar Bill! Love to see it. Unfortunately, they get the nickname wrong and call him Two Dollar Billie (How do you miss the play on words there?) but still, it’s a nice detail to include

* They actually discuss Billie and Mike’s childhoods in some detail. Tré does not get the same treatment but A for effort - 2 out of 3 aint bad.

And that’s it for pros. On to the cons. We’ll focus on the nitpicky stuff first

* This video only has audio in one ear if you’re using headphones, which is kinda unusual for this channel, so I wonder if there was some kind of mistake uploading it.

* They only seem to have footage from the Dookie era and onward so when they talk about stuff before that, they either use a mix of a couple of old photos of the band, generic stock footage, or more modern video clips. I understand that you have to work with what you have, but this is kind of distracting when you’re hearing the narrator talk about their informal audition for Lookout Records, but you’re hearing and seeing the Good Riddance music video. Like, I’d give it a pass if the song at least commented on or shared an emotion with that part of the story but it just feels random. They really don’t seem to have put too much thought into when they use certain clips, so the performances on screen aren’t always from the time period they’re taking about - even later on in the story. This, and the lack of a clear structure can make it hard to tell what year/era they’re talking about at any given moment.

* They have to rely on past interviews to do a lot of the story telling, but once again, they don’t always care too much about time period and will clip sections out of context. For example, they take a clip of Billie from roughly ‘95 talking about how the last few years have been crazy, and make it about their career downturn in the early 2000s, even though you can CLEARLY see he’s younger than in the other clips.

* There is a narrator who fills in the parts of the story not conveyed in clips which is a good choice...except that he’s really annoying. I can’t tell if it’s his voice or the script he’s been given, but either way, it’s not great.

* The narrator says that all three band members divorced or separated from their wives in the late 90s/early 2000s, except...that didn’t happen. Billie and Adrienne had a rough point, sure, but they didn’t separate or divorce.

So far, most of my critiques have not been massive. I still probably could’ve enjoyed a doc at least a bit even if it had those problems, a lot of which seem to be due to a lack of resources and having to make do with what they had. I can understand that. The same does not hold true for this next part, which is, how they framed the band’s jump to a major label and the years that followed.

Every band, actor, or public figure of any kind will usually have some kind of signature question or complaint that everyone either levies against them or debates. Green Day’s is basically “are they real punks or are they sellouts?” At this point, I think this question is pretty stupid and I have a lot of problems with the mindset behind it (I think it has a lot to do with classism and sexism, but that’s for another time), but it’s part of the band’s public persona at this point, so any documentary has to at least touch on it. Most docs tend to frame the backlash against the band after they sighed with Reprise as the petty complaints of jealous gatekeepers who were pissed that the band was inviting normies into their punk club. Basically, there was nothing Green Day could’ve done about it - it was going to happen either way.

But this doc takes it for granted that Green Day absolutely sold out, and not just that, they fundamentally changed and stopped being punk. Which, like, are we listening to the same album? The only real difference between Kerplunk (released before they signed with a major label) and Dookie (their major label debut) is that the second had an actual budget. The sound and subject matter is very very similar. They were never super “hard core” to begin with - in fact, it was their catchy melodies that made them stand out. Nothing in their style changed. Honestly, I would argue that Dookie has a lot more songs about being angry and punk than Kerplunk does. The only difference is its higher production quality. So, when this doc says things like they “lost their hard fought identity” I honestly don’t know what the hell they’re talking about. And this isn’t just me being a fan. The doc says they changed, it says they stopped being punk, but it doesn’t offer any evidence to substantiate that claim. We’re just supposed to hear the ominous music and the out-of-context clips (which were mostly self-deprecating jokes) and believe it.

When they do provide details, most of them are wrong, or at very least, misleading. For example, they claim that the backlash only happened after the band released the second and third singles off of Dookie, “Basket Case” and “When I Come Around” respectively. It claims that the first single, “Longview” was punk enough to make fans happy while the other songs weren’t, which...ok - I just don’t think you can claim “Longview” is any more punk than the other songs. Honestly, it’s kind of a departure from their normal sound into a more jazzy style. I don’t think you can argue that it’s any more punk than “Basket Case” unless you’re claiming that singing about masturbation makes something inherently punk. Like, what are we even defining as “punk” at this point? Also, the backlash started long LONG before any song off the album had ever been released. It started as soon as they signed with Reprise, so claiming it was because people didn’t like the music is just dishonest.

Overall, I really feel like this doc has a very strange tone, especially for a piece of media supposedly promoting their newest album (Revolution Radio). It pays lip service to how great and accomplished the band is, but takes every opportunity to trash them. Because it goes so hard on the “they sold out” narrative, it implies that the success of American Idiot is just because they got lucky that people liked the product of their lack of artistic integrity. I am more than ok with criticizing a band - even one I like, and I don’t mind when a doc does try to do more than just praise Green Day, but those criticisms have to be backed up. And the whole question of “selling out” is just so so stupid at this point. This doc came out in 2016 - was the most pressing issue that year really whether or not a band stopped being punk 25 years ago? 

So, thanks for coming to my ted talk. I hope you liked it and if there’s any other Green Day docs you want me to review next, please let me know. These have been a lot of fun to write and I’m so happy that people seem to like it.

[alicemitch09writes]

(un)loving miya atsumu

six

the boys in the club.

As soon as practice ended, you had just finished writing in the journal, signing off a few things, eyes glued to your written analysis and observations bent on heading home. Kaoru needed help with one of his homework and asked you earlier to help him.

Just then, a familiar voice called out to you.

“(Y/N)!”

Looking up, you meet the kind gaze of Aran. “We’re headin’ to that new boba shop by the station, wanna come with?” Behind him were Akagi, Oomimi, Kita, and a few other players, watching you with inviting smiles.

You paused, gripping on to your notebook.

Thing was, it had been a few days since the incident. As much as your seniors meant no harm, you didn’t want a reminder of your humiliation.

More importantly, this was Ojiro Aran – out of everyone in the team, he was the one who knew the twins best and the one of the few people they respected, he was their straightman as much as a big brother figure to them. And because you were associated with the twins, he had the same reception with you - if not, kinder and softer. Something akin to concern swam in those dark eyes of his, to which you had to ignore.

Atsumu – who was watching with a glare, brown eyes burning at you, threatening – would hate you even more for trying to take Aran from him.

And so, you shake your head. “I’m sorry, but I’ll have to pass. But please, enjoy for me.”

Without another word, you nodded at them all, ignoring the sad look in their eyes, and left.

"Torino?"

"Karasuno," you corrected, almost exasperatedly. Seriously, how old was Coach Kurosu again?

Realization dawns on him. "Ah, haven't heard that name in a while."

"Are they any good?"

"Dunno, they're an old powerhouse."

Humming, you look back at the pamphlet in your hands. "A rather glorious comeback, wouldn't you say?"

The older man pulls his head back, barking in laughter. "That's a rather poetic way of saying it!"

It would be something your captain would say, but currently, he's busy having a practice match with the rest of the team.

As always, with him on the court, everyone played to their best and didn't half-ass or slack. Heck, even Suna was doing some work!

But of course, there were his plays - graceful, smooth, and focused solely on the defense.

Definitely a clear cut choice of captain, the standard, in your opinion.

"Aran-san, nice serve!"

A blur of yellow and blue flies to his hand, dribbling it with his one hand as he walks to the end of the court and waits for the whistle. With him serving, it had everyone on high alert.

The ball flies up in the air, Ojiro runs up, hands raised to meet the falling ball, sending it flying to the other side of the court just barely touching the outer line. Still an in.

Definitely an ace alright, enough to be recognized in the country’s top 5 aces.

Whoever the next ace was – it’s going to be a tough call between Osamu and Ginjima - they have big shoes to fill.

Quickly, you write in your notebook.

'Ojiro serves: Ins - 5, Outs - 1'

After a week of exams, it was only natural that people reverted back to their normal state – you with managerial duties for the school’s illustrious volleyball club. Fresh out of the burn of their academics, everyone seemed to be in high spirits.

"What're you standing around the court for? Chase after it!" Coach Kurosu yells. "Geez, my dog chases balls better than these nitwits."

And there's his dog analogy, you thought to yourself, hilarious as always to hear.

On the other side of the court was a team composed of Suna, Osamu, Atsumu, and Ginjima - the trouble children, and two other second years. Opposing them were the third years - Kita, Akagi, Oomimi, Aran, one third year, and another second year.

Honestly, your captain would've done well as libero, with his amazing receiving skills and read of the ball's trajectory. He wasn't the team's defensive specialist for nothing. Nevertheless, as a wing spiker, he does well for his part. Regardless if his skills were average, just the way he presents himself in and out of the court was astounding.

"Suna, nice serve!" you called out, watching the tall boy walk back in line.

Just as the whistle blew, the ball was sent flying in the air leaving the opposing team scrambling.

For one rather lackadaisical, Suna's techniques were something. If only he gave his all in all of his games.

'Suna serves: Ins - 4, Outs - 0'

Seeing gray-dyed, you closely watched as Osamu toy with the current blockers, not once intimidated by Oomimi, the top blocker of the team.

As the ball appeared before him, instead of spiking it, he tossed it to his waiting twin, sending the ball to the other court. A flash of gold - a hungry look in his eyes as the ball goes the way he wanted it to go, enough to blind from your spot.

"The twins are on point today as usual," Coach Kurosu says with a nod. You nod with him, writing into your logbook.

'Miya Twins quicks: success - 6, fails - 1'

Yep, everyone was definitely in high spirits today.

Your thoughts and observations were echoed by the two coaches after practice, after congratulating them for all doing a great job during the previous week. Exams were no laughing matter, they were a test to see one’s mental and academic capability – as they were all students.

Now that you think about it, as Coach Oomi was telling off a few of the boys, you had to follow up on their performance once the results were out. Normally, they’d get their test results in a week’s time, probably.

After that, a short break for the holidays.

Must be nice…

"Ah, by the way," you call out, making your presence known and just before the coaches ended today’s practice.

All eyes were on you, attention on high. Turning to your coaches pointedly, expectantly, they only stared back, question in their eyes. Frowning, your head tilted slightly, they stared back. The frown on your face deepened, unamused.

Seriously?

Planting your hand on your hip, your expression sours. "You both forgot, didn't you?" they winced.

"A-Ah, you have to be specific, (L/N)." Coach Oomi defended, Coach Kurosu nodding beside him.

Your frown only deepened, eyes narrowing.

"We just talked about it before practice started," though your voice was even, there was enough bite to it. And though older than you, the two men felt small under your reprimanding gaze. More so when you sighed, as though you've said too much. “And you both told me to remind you about it before we end today’s practice.”

As the team watched, they felt just as though you were talking to the lot of them – your voice thick with disappointment. Kita watched, unaffected by it all almost amused by it all.

With a sigh, you turned to the team, eyes easily finding blond-dyed hair. "Miya Atsumu,"

The setter straightens at the sound of his name. "Y-Yes?"

Lifting your lips up, a gentle smile filled your face.  "Congratulations, you've been selected to join the All-Japan Youth Camp." You say with a smile – a true, genuine, and proud smile, despite knowing that you were the last person he’d like to hear it from.

Something in Atsumu starts at the sight of it.

It took a second for him to process your words, before he burst into joy. “Y-Yosha!”

Congratulations were tossed his way left and right from his teammates. Beside you, it seemed as though it finally came to the coaches as they sheepishly scratched the back of their heads, avoiding your gaze.

"W-Wait, how about 'Samu?" Atsumu asked, directing his question to you.

The smile on your face thinned. "Sadly, there's an invite for only one Miya."

Interestingly enough, Osamu’s only reaction was to blink, his gray-brown eyes becoming distant.

"B-But-"

"Should you have any concerns or queries, feel free to approach any of the coaches." There was a finality to your tone, causing the older men to jump.

“A-Ah, right. Thank you for that, (L/N).” says Coach Kurosu, smiling at you, apologetically and gratefully. He got a nod from you. “Again, congratulations Atsumu. Now for the rest of y’all, I don’t want the rest of you slacking behind just because of this, y’hear me?”

“No coach,” they replied.

“Alright, good. Dismissed.”

(A few days before his leave for Tokyo, Atsumu was at school with a rare free period shared with Osamu, Suna, and Ginjima. They all decided to head to the library, in lieu of studying but to loiter in actuality.

Atsumu was gushing to the brim, excitement in his bones to meet some interesting volleyball players from all across the nation. Heck, he might even see that one annoying player with the wicked spins on his serves.

“Ah, that’s Itachiyama’s Sakusa,” Ginjima says.

“Isn’t he one of the top high school aces in the country?” Osamu asked, voice thinly veiled with curiosity.

“Actually, he’s the top ace.” Suna said without looking up from his phone, fingers tapping and sliding every few seconds.

“Shit, for real?”

“He even beat Aran!”

A loud shush sounded off, the student librarian glaring at their table. The four boys quieted down, Osamu shoving at his twin, who retaliated with his own shove before Ginjima stepped in to break it off.

“Man, I’m gonna meet a buncha interesting people!” the setter gushes, he was practically radiating it off. In all their years playing volleyball, this was actually the first time that Atsumu was going alone. Although they talked it out with his twin, Atsumu sharing it with his brother and friends make it believable that he isn’t alone in this, it was enough to fill his spirits. (Nobody tell him he’s lonely about going alone, though)

“Just don’t go off starting a ruckus,” Osamu stands from his seat, because the student assistant was glaring holes into their table. He comes back a moment later with some books in his hands, a mix of cookbooks, sports, and literature books.

From his seat, the student assistant looked appeased by the sight of books before turning back to his duties. Their group exchanged snickers, returning to their idle state.

Just then, through the open doors, Ginjima caught sight of you passing by “Ah, it’s manager.”

Atsumu never turned so quickly on his life – which the Ginjima found rather comical – indeed finding you out the hallway uniform nice and tidy as always, not a hair out of place, with arms filled with textbooks.

With Kusakabe beside you.

It made his blood boil for some reason, seeing the two of you together – when there were a few other classmates as well. You’ve become close with Mr. Four-Eyes, it seems.

“Ah, she chose an extra class, right?”

“That’s right.” Osamu answered with a nod. “Chemistry, I believe.” To which everyone deflated at, it was a science with a bunch of math. Yet, unsurprisingly, it was rather fitting for you. It shouldn't also surprise them that you chose to add an extra class instead of having free time like them. College prep kids were built different, it seems.

Recovering, Ginjima watches the back of your head as he comments. “Ah, I keep forgetting manager’s in a college prep class.”

“Wasn’t her big sister in one, too?” asked Suna, looking up for once, chin resting on his folded arms.

When you were out of sight, Atsumu turned back to his group. “I think so? She was in Class 5?”

“Manager’s in Class 7, though.” Ginjima stated.

Suna scoffs. “There’s just a 2 difference.”

“Aren’t they just the same, though?” Atsumu frowned, now recalling how each of the (L/N) siblings were intellectuals. Mika, you, and Kaoru were all in honor’s classes, with you being in the classes for all of your middle school, junior high, and probably all of high school. Kaoru might even follow in your footsteps if he can balance soccer and his studies.

“Pretty much, I guess.”

“Nah, (Y/N)’s the smarter sibling.” Osamu answered again, rather smoothly almost defensively. “She’s been part of the top students since middle school.”

Ginjima and Suna hums, with the latter going back to browsing his phone.

“Osamu, you know a great deal about manager, huh?”

The corner of his lips twitch, briefly meeting his twin’s gaze before plucking a random book from their stack. “Yeah well, she’s my best friend.”

My best friend, Osamu says. Not ‘our’.

Ah, yeah, there was that. He couldn’t share the joy with you anymore.)

Walking down the busy hall, students flocking every corner, you carefully maneuvered even without looking up. What’s more, you were at the third year’s floor – which should intimidate lower year levels, but not you.

Glancing you, you found Class 5 and approached the door.

“Excuse me,” you asked the student closest to the door. “Is Aran-san around?”

“Ojiro?” turning to the room, the student called out. “Hmm, ah, there he is. Oi, Ojiro, someone’s here for you!”

As soon as he was called, a tall figure stands from his seat, eyes widening at the sight of you. He raises a hand as he approaches. “Yo, (Y/N), what’s up?”

“Ah, we’ve run low on some supplies,” you reported, hands folded behind you.

Almost immediately, he falls into vice-captain mode. “Yes, that! Well, don’t worry about inventory check because Shinsuke and I did them for you.”

“Really?" unconsciously, your shoulders relaxed. "That’s a relief.”

Aran's whole face softens down at you. “Hey, as captain and vice-captain, we’re both obliged to at least ease our manager’s burdens. We can help out, too, y'know?” You had to smile at that. “Just gimme a sec, I’ll get the list.”

You watch Aran walk back to his seat, leaving you alone to look around his classroom. It was no different than yours, except there was a certain feel to it. In fact, everyone in the room - although were, very much like you, students - had a feel that was different about them. Third years, huh?

“Here we go,” Aran returns with some papers in his hands.

“Thank you very much,”

“Now, don’t forget to ask the coaches-“

“Will do. By the way, how’s your little sister?” A little small talk couldn’t hurt, right?

The older teen sort of frowns, the same frown he uses on the twins. “I swear, the older she gets the more she’s getting on my nerves!”

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” you stifled a laugh, failingly. If you remember correctly, Aran’s little sister was just Kaoru’s age.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh about it all you want.” Sighing, he threw his hands in the air. “Why can’t she be more like you?”

“Cold, stoic, barely human?”

He sputtered, gesticulating rather dramatically. “Oi!”

“It’s the truth.”

Grumbling, he clears his throat, fixes himself into his big brother persona, arms folded over his chest for added effect. “I wish she was more collected and responsible, like you.”

“A ringing endorsement from one of the top high school aces, I’m flattered.”

Sharing laughter, he reached over to ruffle his hand over your head. “You at least deserve to be complimented every once in a while.”

You hum, warmed by his words. "You could at least just talk it out with her, that's how I deal with Kaoru."

"Yeah, but she doesn't take me seriously."

"Neither does Kaoru," Aran looks surprised by this, you can't blame him, your younger brother was a brat and a lot to deal with. "However, it does help to aptly remind him time and time again of his misdemeanor. You most certainly have to be strict with managing him but also respect their feelings. In addition, you must speak to them like a child and not a subject of some sort."

For some reason, he felt a chill run down his spine. "S-Sheesh, you sound like Shinsuke when you say that."

Unable to help yourself, the corner of your mouth lifts into a smirk-like smile. "Who do you think taught me all those?"

His expression flattens, eyes shut as it comes to him. "Ah. Man. Geez."

He then sighs in defeat, shoulders lifting and dropping. "Still wished she turned out like you, (Y/N)."

"Trust me, you don't want a boring little sister. Anyway, good luck with her though."

"Will do, thanks for the tips," he mutters a few things under his breath, something like a prayer.

Tucking the papers aside, you just about turned to leave when you nearly run into someone.

“Atsumu, watch where you’re going ya lug!” Aran says behind you. 

“S-Sorry-“ he looks down, eyes widening when he realizes he crashed into you, you blink back in concern. “S-Sorry-!”

“No, I’m sorry for not paying attention to my surroundings.” Taking a step back, you found Osamu, Suna, and Ginjima behind him - giving them all a bow before walking away.

Before he left for Tokyo though, both your families had a little get-together at the Miya residence.

To say it was awkward was an understatement, especially because of the rift between you and one particular twin, and because the family didn't exactly know about the situation - but you managed by helping around whilst the twins (plus Kaoru) played some games.

“Don’t you want to join them?” the Miya matriarch asked you kindly.

Over at the living room, the boys were loudly cheering, eyes glued to their game, Kaoru nestled between the twins.

You shook your head, focusing on chopping the vegetables. “I’m fine.” Cooking helped calmed you, busying your hands and sense of smell and taste helped calmed your nerves. Meticulously following through recipes in your head, focusing only on making delectable dishes for all.

As much as you can, you didn't want the family to notice something between you and Atsumu, didn't want to ruin the already bright atmosphere because of his success, didn't want to ruin his day, didn't want to ruin his reputation because of you.

Dinner was a quiet affair between the families, congratulating Atsumu over and over for qualifying for the All-Japan Youth Camp. Osamu heartily ate, sitting next to you, Atsumu to his other side. With his twin as the star of the feast, you saw him brimming with pride and a bit of shyness - especially in the presence of family. It made you smile, but only for a quick while.

So you ate quietly, keeping your head low.

It was already worth knowing how quiet you were unless asked a question. Nobody seemed to mind, used to your quiet presence.

"Kaoru, eat properly," you berate, reaching over, napkin in hand to wipe your brother's face.

It's also known that you were such a caring person - sister, most especially.

"You're almost an adolescent now and still you eat like a child." There was rice on his shirt on his table, how embarrassing. How is he 12?

"Nee-san, please!" At that, the adults laugh, seemingly used to it all. Even Atsumu laughed in. "I'm not a baby!"

"You'll always be a baby to us, brother boy." Atsumu teased your little brother, booping his nose with his finger.

Groaning, Kaoru angrily puts down his bowl and chopsticks, swatting you and Atsumu's hands away. The adults laugh again, especially at the combined forces of you and Atsumu.

The blond-dyed teen meets your eye, time freezing for a moment, you kept thinking of them as brown when they were actually honey brown. It was hard to look away from them, especially with how he took you in. Something kickstarted in your chest.

Clearing your throat, you quickly sit back, he does the same. Osamu fills his plate and yours too.

Feeling a vibration in your pocket, you take out your phone, eyes widening at a notification.

"Ah, Mi-" unsure how to address him, especially because the adults and Kaoru were there, you cleared your throat again, capturing everyone's attention, including Atsumu's. "Mika-nee sends her congratulations."

Like magic, his whole face lights up like a Christmas tree. Misery, it was it feels like, followed by a thousand arrows shot through your already fragile heart.

"She furthers that, 'she knew you could do it. Have fun in Tokyo,' it was a miracle how firm you kept your tone, in its usual monotonous tone. "And 'hello to everyone, I miss you all.'"

The adults then turn to tease Atsumu, Osamu reminding his twin that your sister was still with her boyfriend, resulting in them fighting. Bemused by their usual antics, the adults ask you questions about your sister's well-being, you answered as best you could before they began to talk amongst themselves about traveling, allowing you to wallow on the pain.

Yep, that was the Mika effect.

She could light up a room by just the mention of her name, amplifying the happiness of someone's achievement.

And who were you? Just a bystander. A ghost, even. Your words meant absolutely nothing, especially for Atsumu.

But - you peeked up, seeing him steal from Osamu's plate - at least it made him happy, right?

As much as it pained you, that smile on his face was everything.

"Nee-san, can you pass me some meat please?" Kaoru asks you politely, rice sticking to his cheeks.

Swallowing the pain, you robotically reach out and placed an ample amount into his waiting plate, grateful for the distraction.

Again, this was about Atsumu. Not about you.

Reaching over, you were just about to clean his face when he does it himself. "I can do it myself, nee-san." your little brother's grin was a mess, yet you couldn't find it in your heart to get mad, especially at the proud look on his still messy face.

With Atsumu gone for a whole week, and nationals coming up soon, practice as of late has been hectic and hard. Also, because the team was short of one Miya, it went quietly and peacefully – a strange and rather unnatural occurrence. That excuse any kind of indolence though, especially with nationals drawing near.

"Put your backs into it!" barked Coach Kurosu.

Somehow, because nationals were coming, practice went on slower than usual. And that was saying, you were still in the middle of winter.

The boys had to work themselves to the bone, beating the chilly winter breeze, pumping the blood in their veins. Each player gave their all, yelling out when both coaches couldn't hear them.

Blowing on your whistle, you called out. "Alright, take a 10-minute break." 

Never have you seen the whole gym deflate, thankfully.

Heck, it was only the first half of practice!

Water bottles were handed and consumed in record time, a few players even fell to the ground, legs raised against the wall.

"I'm gonna die!" 

"You're not going to die," you retort at the first year. "Just don't force yourself." The first year whines once more.

"There's a difference between forcing yourself and giving your all in a game," a cold voice added in, causing the first year to shoot up sitting. "That being said, you needn't need to slack off. Just play like you usually would."

"Y-Yes, Kita-san!"

Huffing you turned to your captain, who blinked back at you. 

"Good work today, captain."

"Practice is far from over, (L/N)." he mused, eyes bright.

Humming, you glance at the stopwatch - eight minutes had just passed. (E/c) eyes then drifted over the gym, over the heads of the club members, a sea of black and white practice uniform. This was a scene you were used to all of your two years as manager, for all of four seasons. 

Somehow, just looking out at it all, something felt missing.

No, not something - someone.

Someone with golden blond-dyed hair, bright honey brown eyes, a sly smirk, and astounding presence.

It was missing one Miya Atsumu.

Glancing back at the stopwatch, a minute had just passed you realized.

Lifting your head again, you were met with the same view. 

Sighing, you pocket the stopwatch and announce the remaining minutes of practice there was left. Frowning at nothing, you felt something tug at your ponytail. Looking over, you were met with a darker version of a person in your head - darker hair, darker eyes, same gentle eyes.

"Osamu, what's up?"

"Can you help me tape up?"

"...that's rare, you don't normally tape up your hands." you say, leading the two of you to where the first aid kid was.

"It's winter," was all he reasoned, almost in a grumble. Almost childishly.

It almost made you snort, that was usually his brother's complaint - as he was more particular with his hands and being a setter in general.

"(Y/N), please." he whined, causing you to roll your eyes.

"Yes, yes."

With one Miya short, it meant one was left behind - Osamu.

Even without his twin, he pretty much carried himself just fine. Between the two, he was much more independent. Atsumu was always the clingy twin.

And with his older twin away, that meant, more time with the lad. More time with your best friend.

But as the saying goes, two is better than one.

Two Miyas is better than one.

Still, you made the most out of it, since there was no way you coming in between the brothers.

“You said that chicken noodle soup is your ultimate comfort food, right?”

“Yeah. What about it?”

Osamu was silent for a moment, watching the steaming white rice in front of both of you. “Mine’s onigiri.”

For some reason, that surprised you. “Really? Not your mom’s-”

“Yeah.”

Hands washed, the two of you dug on to the bowl of rice, carefully shaping it in your hands. “That’s a surprise. You never told me that.”

Although, it did explain how after you moved in and met him, he was asking you to help him make onigiri. Much like now. Except with his chubby hands then, most of his end product ended up badly shaped, too soggy, bland, or lacking.

Years of practice saw to his improvement, with his onigiris being perfectly shaped, flavorful, and rich in texture enough to beat the rice balls at convenient stores. Not to mention that he’s grown a penchant for cooking, after being friends with you.

Rice was a rather versatile grain that has a lot of varieties, depending on how you choose to make use of it. Japanese dishes were mostly simple but made had a lot of intricacies that rivaled gourmet dishes. Onigiri had a lot of variants – white rice, wrapped, seasoned, mixed rice, fillings, to name a few.

But for Osamu, the humble white rice onigiri was his favorite.

It was worth noting that through the years you’ve watched him mold his rice – once, burning his hands because they were too hot or because he was too impatient – he seemed rather determined in the process. He shaped the onigiri as though he were holding something precious, taking careful means, making sure that he had the right amount of seaweed and mayonnaise.

Most of his onigiris were huge, like the size of his hand. Well, he was an athlete and a huge glutton – so those two combinations spoke plenty. However, when he finally finished his first perfect onigiri, something crossed his eyes – it sent a twinge in your heart, seeing so much emotion in those usually guarded eyes of his.

“Osamu?”

The boy just stared at his onigiri for a while, as though in disbelief. Upon closer inspection, he looked as though he were in a daze.

“…have I ever told you why it’s my comfort food?”

There seemed a weight to his words, shown in the way his eyes glazed over a simple homemade rice ball. People have different ways of expressing themselves, some through writing, some through sports, some even through cooking.

Osamu conveyed his feelings through cooking, it seems.

Turning to face him, you wore a gentle smile. “I would very much like to hear it.”

Meeting your gaze, slowly, his lips lift into a smile.

Over a plate of perfectly made onigiris, Osamu tells you a story of his first love.

There was a knock at your door, followed by the doorknob turning. “Nee-san,” came your little brother’s voice, accompanied by crinkling plastic. “here.”

Flipping on to the next page, busily writing into your notebook,  was all he got. You barely looked up from your notes!

Miffed, he tried calling you again, “Nee-san!” he dragged on the first syllable, doing the same with the last syllable with a baby voice. To no avail, much to Kaoru’s disappointment.

Though you were wearing earbuds, normally Kaoru would hear soft, gentle tunes playing off it, so you could still hear him. Only, you were really into your notes, as though your own brother wasn’t in the same room as you.

Puffing his cheeks, he paddled up towards you, poking you in the cheek. “Nee-san,” Much more disappointed and annoyed, he looks at the plastic in his bag, carefully lifts it up until the cold plastic touches your cheek, the touch shocking you instantly.

“Ah, Kaoru,” You gently pushed him away from you, pulling your earbuds off, rubbing at your cold cheek. “what are you doing here?”

“I knocked!” his cheeks were still puffed, the (adorable) frown on his face easing. “Here.” He raises the plastic earlier to you, at an eye level.

Bubble tea.

Blinking, you carefully take it from your brother’s hands. “Who’s it from?”

“Atsumu-nii and Osamu-nii.”

Your brows furrowed at that. “Both of them?”

“Yep! I have one, too!” he showed his own drink, heartily sipping from it, unaware of the questioning look in your face and tone.

You would understand if Osamu bought it, but Atsumu? And Kaoru, as much of a brat he can be at times, hardly lied – at least to your face. And he loved the Miya twins. He was also scared of lying to your face.

“We’re about to eat dinner, though.” You berate, especially at the amount of sugar in his drink. “When did they give it?”

“Just minutes ago! Atsumu-nii handed it over because Osamu-nii had to make dinner.” Ah, so that confirms it then.

Humming, you take the drink in your hand. “Thanks, Kaoru.”

The little boy toothily grins. “You’re welcome, nee-san!” rushing to the door, he turns to tell you, “I’ll come back when dinner’s ready!”

“Yeah, thanks.”

With a click, you were alone in your room once more. Music softly played from your earbuds, homework sitting idly.

Surprisingly, the drink was still cold. Just how long ago did they buy this?

Atsumu and Osamu bought this, you remind yourself, twisting the drink in your hand, fiddling with the straw with your other hand. Straightening your drink, you punctured your straw in.

Taking a sip, you let the flavors settle in your tongue before swallowing. “…not too sweet, just salty enough.” Just the way you like it.

Twirling the drink in your hand, it just occurred to you that today was Atsumu's return from Tokyo.

masterlist • seven

[itsclydebitches]

Voyager. Now that’s a kettle of fish. Obviously watch/enjoy whatever you wish, but I do recommend also checking out SFDebris’ reviews of the episodes (he’s the rwde of Voyager). He is a lot smarter and more eloquent than me.

Putting these two asks together since my thoughts on both are all jumbled! 

Now, I want to emphasize that I’ve only watched the first 16 episodes (Season One + Season 2 premiere), so idk if Voyager is going to go seriously downhill later on, but right now I do really like it. And not in a, “Lol yeah compared to the other crap on it’s good, I guess” way, but in a completely honest, “It has its flaws, but is overall a solid, compelling show with lovable characters” way. Out of curiosity I watched SFDebris’ review of “Phage,” though I’m afraid I didn’t agree with it. The only part were I was like, “Yeah okay” was pointing out that they had the Doctor using a keypad when he supposedly wasn’t solid, but that’s precisely the sort of continuity error that, in an otherwise strong show, I’m willing to shrug off. For all the major points, it sounds like SFDebris is concerned primarily with the show he wants Voyager to be, rather than the show Voyager actually is. Which I know sounds familiar--I’ve heard that criticism leveled at my own work: “You just want RWBY to be a totally different show”--but the difference is that Voyager is a part of an established franchise, following three other TV shows, an animated series, and a collection of films. It’s not an original show (like RWBY) that can take itself in any direction the story may need/claim to want (again, RWBY). It has a brand and those established characteristics seem to be bumping up against SFDebris’ critiques: 

Hating Neelix as a character - You’re supposed to hate him. Or at least find him frustrating (I don’t personally hate him) because that’s what all the characters are grappling with too. From Tuvok forced to have an awkward conversation while Neelix is in the bath to Janeway dealing with him taking over her dining room, Neelix’s conflict revolves around how others learn to accept him. Star Trek as a franchise is about “Infinite diversity in infinite combinations.” Voyager begins with the problem of how the trained Federation officers are supposed to work with the more violent Maquis. Difference doesn’t just create “Wow, you’re so amazing!” reactions, it also includes frustration, disagreement, and outright hostility. Creating an outsider character with a kind heart but incredibly overbearing personality is a great way to test the other characters’ convictions. Do they actually care about all life in the universe? Or do they only care about life when they personally find it palatable? Having Neelix around is a great reminder for them--and the viewer--that just because someone annoys you at times doesn’t mean they’re any less worthy of love, respect, and companionship. It also doesn’t mean they don’t have something to offer: he keeps the crew fed even if his cooking is horrible, he provides information about this area of space even if he sometimes gets it wrong, we roll our eyes at the “Morale Officer” stuff, but Neelix does provide much needed perspective for characters like Tuvok. If Neelix made fewer mistakes, stopped bugging the crew, became a “cooler” character for the audience to root for rather than be frustrated by... a lot of the point of his character would be lost. 

Frustration about discoveries not carrying over to the next episode - AKA, the crew finds inanely powerful, alien tech and then (presumably) never uses it again. This would indeed be a big problem in a serialized story (like RWBY) but Voyager maintains much of Star Trek’s original, episodic nature. Though we have continuity in the form of them inching towards home and evolving as characters, the world still resets to a certain point at the end of each episode. This is what allows Star Trek to explore so many different questions and have so many different adventures. If you demand that serialized continuity--this character needs to have an arc to deal with this traumatic experience, the crew has to follow the thread they just discovered, our Doctor needs to do something with the new tech they just found--then you lose the variety that Star Trek is known for. Instead of a new story each week (or, occasionally, across two weeks) you’ve got a single story spanning months. Neither form is better or worse than the other, it’s absolutely a preference, but there’s a very specific, structural, intentional reason why the characters “forget” about the things they’ve discovered and, at times, experienced. Unlike Ozpin forgetting that he has a nuke in his cane for seven volumes, or Ruby forgetting to use her eyes at crucial points, Star Trek deliberately sets things aside to ensure there’s room for new ideas and questions next episode. 

Janeway doesn’t kill the Vidiians to get Neelix his lungs back - No Starfleet captain would. At least, not during this period of Star Trek. Sisko has development in that regard (making morally gray choices), but that’s built into the heart of the show from the start: he’s on a station, not a starship, that is jointly run by the Federation and the Bajorans, and built by the Cardassians. The rules of the Federation always had a tenuous hold there and Sisko as a character always pushed the boundary of the Federations expectations (Q: “Picard never hit me!”) Janeway, in contrast, is 100% a Federation captain and, more importantly, has explicitly told her crew that they will be operating as a Federation vessel, despite being so far from home. That’s the conflict between the officers and the Maquis. That’s why Tuvok accepts the alien tech in “Prime Factors,” recognizing that Janeway can’t. That’s why Seska is a compelling antagonist, pressuring the crew to abandon their ideals for survival. The series (or at least that first season) revolves around questions about identity and whether they’re willing to give that identity up now that they’re out from under the Federation’s thumb. Overwhelmingly, they choose not to... which would make murdering the Vidiian a complete 180 for her character. We’re not necessarily supposed to agree with Janeway’s choice, we’re supposed to acknowledge that murdering another sentient being is not some simple choice to make, especially when you’re a leader devoted to a certain set of ideals. We’re supposed to recognize the challenges here (many of which SFDebris doesn’t acknowledge) like how you’re supposed to keep a prisoner for the next 75 years when you’re already struggling to feed and take care of the crew you have, or the fact that they claim to take organs from dead bodies and this was a rare time when they couldn’t. (It’s only in “Faces” that we learn this is complete BS and they actively kidnap people to work as slaves and then be harvested.) The frustration that Janeway doesn’t act here stems from wanting her to be a character who is, fundamentally, not a Star Trek captain. 

Granted, I only watched one review, but that’s what the whole thing felt like: wanting a series that’s not Star Trek. Something without a token, challenging character, without hand-wavy science, that’s more serialized, and doesn’t adhere to a “do no harm” code. (I just started “Initiations” and Chakotay asks a vessel to stand down three times, while actively being attacked, before finally retaliating and then he tries to reestablish communications and then he warns them about their engine and then he beams them aboard his shuttle. That’s what Star Trek (usually) is: that idealized love of life, even when that life is actively hostile). And like, that’s obviously fine! As you say, Flawartist, “watch/enjoy whatever you wish,” but just based on this one review I wonder if SFDebris just wants something other than Star Trek. 

I think one of the reasons why I feel passionately about this (beyond my love of context and recognizing when shows are actively trying to accomplish something specific) is that I went through this with DS9. For years I heard about how horrible the show was. It’s trash. It’s a mess. It’s not TNG, so don’t even bother. Or, if you do, be prepared for disappointment. There was this whole, strong rhetoric about how silly it all is--Star Trek is, by default, silly, so supposedly only the Shakespeare loving, archeology obsessed captain is sophisticated enough to save it--and then... I found nothing of the sort. I mean yeah, obviously Star Trek is silly as hell (that’s part of its charm), but DS9 was also a complex, nuanced look into everything from personal agency to the threat of genocide. There’s so much wonderful storytelling there... little of which made it into my cultural understanding of DS9. And now I’m seeing the same thing with Voyager. When I did some quick googling I was bombarded by articles saying how bad it is and now I have an ask comparing it to a show I don’t think has even a quarter of the heart the Star Trek franchise does. Which is is not AT ALL meant as a knock against you, anon. I’m just fascinated by this cultural summary of Star Trek: TOS is ridiculous but fun if you’re willing to ignore large swaths of it, TNG is a masterpiece and that’s that, DS9 is bad, Voyager is bad, and to be frank I haven’t heard much of anything about Enterprise. It’s weird! Because I watch these shows and I’m like, “Holy shit there’s so much good storytelling here.” Is it perfect? Not on your life, but it’s trying in a way that I can really appreciate. It’s Star Trek and Star Trek (at least at the time) meant something pretty specific. Criticisms about divisive characters or idealized forgiveness feel like walking out of a Fast and Furious film and going, “There was too much driving and silly combat. Why didn’t they just fix the situation in this easy way?” Because then we wouldn’t have a film about lots of driving and silly combat! If you make all the characters palatable, make Janeway harder, extend the impact of all the discoveries, remove the ridiculous science that doesn’t make any sense... then you don’t have Star Trek anymore. 

[pucksnsticksnhockeyboys]

into you

request: 51 w Makar? I love that smiley guy sm !

prompt: “Smile.” - “No.” - “You’re smiling, though!” / number 51 off of this list with Cale Makar.

summary: Cale’s teammates like you, but that doesn’t mean they’re not going to chirp him for how into you he is. 

warnings: none

word count: 1.8k

“I don’t know how you managed to trick me into this.” You huffed as you exited your apartment, your ever-smiley best friend waiting patiently for you to lock your door. 

“Because you love me?” He offered, just enough teasing in his voice to have you grinning despite the sleepiness that still had its grips on you. Cale, the redheaded boy who occupied most of your thoughts, led the way to the elevator, chuckling softly to himself at your response, which was little more than an annoyed grumble. 

See, you couldn't let him know just how accurate his teasing response was. You had been head over heels for the sweet boy the moment you saw him offer to pay for an old lady's coffee at the small cafe you worked for. He was cute, sweet, and the way he stumbled over his words as he ordered endeared him to you almost instantly. After him coming into the cafe a few more times, he was brave enough to ask when your shift ended so you could get a cup of coffee with him. You wasted no time in agreeing to go with him, hoping that it would be an impromptu first date, but he gave no sign that he was interested in being anything other than friends. So, you remained in his life, but as the supportive best friend.

Which was how you found yourself in your current position, waking up early on your day off just to go shopping for a charity event that you weren't even sure you wanted to go to. 

The charity part wasn’t the problem, the whole getting up early to shop for a completely new outfit was why you were so annoyed. And since Cale insisted that he paid for you, no matter how vehemently you told him no, he had to come shopping with you. 

Cale, bless his heart, was doing his best to find something you liked. You had given him a gist of what you were looking for, and he finding pieces that actually fit your style. Still, he not everything his picked were winners.

“What about this?” Cale asked, brows furrowed as he studied the fabric. You knew he was serious, but the clothing his picked out was so absolutely ridiculous, you couldn't help but giggle. 

“Cale, it’s neon yellow.” You explained when he looked to you to explain what was wrong with his choice. The redhead’s cheeks turned even more rosy, and you turned back to the rack to try and distract yourself from intrusive thoughts telling you red was now your favorite color. 

He was going to be the death of you.

A few days later found you all dressed up and following Cale into a ballroom packed with people. Your hand was clasped tightly around his wrist as he used his hockey frame to maneuver you through the crowd. A few times you were stopped by someone usually thirty years Cale’s senior to talk to him about hockey statistics and all things related. 

You could tell he was just humoring everyone while looking for an escape. His usual smile replaced by a tight-lipped one that told you he wanted to be anywhere but where he was, though he would never admit it. 

Just because he had to entertain the old men didn’t mean you had to, and when you spotted three blondes standing off to the side, somehow avoiding attention, you knew it was your one chance to get away. Waiting until it was Cale’s turn to talk, you squeezed his forearm and whispered that you were going to talk to Mel before separating. He shot you a pained look that only you spotted, and you grinned mischievously at him. You both knew what you were doing, but it didn't make you feel bad about leaving the redhead with the men that were asking a thousand and one questions. 

As soon as she spotted you, Mel Landeskog was calling your name. Her husband Gabe was standing next to her, arm wrapped securely around her waist. Beside them, Erik Johnson stood, having decided this was an occasion to wear his fake teeth. Shortly after your friendship with Cale developed outside of the cafe you worked at, he introduced you to his team. They were fun to hang out with and you grew close to Mel like she was your older sister, with Gabe and EJ being the annoying brothers. 

“You look fantastic.” Mel complimented, pulling you into a hug as soon as you were within arms reach. You returned the sentiment, Gabe and EJ both taking turns to embrace you annoyingly tight after. The smug look on both of their faces almost made you want to turn back and rejoin Cale in the stifling conversation about Colorado’s third period goal statistics and how to improve them. 

“You two make me nervous.” You chuckled, looking between the boys before raising a brow at Mel for an explanation. You knew you were screwed when you saw she was also grinning at you with a mischievous look on your face.

“So you’re the rookie’s date, huh?” EJ started, wiggling his brows dramatically and in a way that made you cringe. 

“We're just friends, Johnson.” You huffed. Your relationship status with their defenseman was always a topic of interest between the two blondes, and it got even worse when the rest of the team jumped in on the joke—Burky could be relentless in his teasing when he wanted to be.  

“Mhm.” He hummed, looking thoroughly unconvinced, much to your chagrin. Instead of taking the bait like you knew he wanted you to do, you rolled your eyes and turned to Mel, engaging her in conversation about anything other than hockey and boys, more specifically, hockey boys.  To give Gabe and EJ credit, they knew when to draw the line and take a step back. Well, at least you thought they did when they let you and Mel be for all of two minutes before their teasing started up again. Only this time, it wasn't directed at you, though you still were at the center of attention.

“How’d you get such a good-looking date, Cale?” Gabe started, unable to resist the jab and a chance to cause his teammates cheeks to darken. Cale appeared at your side, cheeks just as rosy as you figured they would be but he was taking the chirps in good humor. You, on the other hand, were getting a little annoyed. With the boys constantly making jokes it would only be a matter of time before Cale put together the fact you had a massive crush on him. You were dead set on the idea that of he found out about your feelings, he would be weirded out and you would lose one of your closest friends. 

“I asked nicely.” Cale teased, earning a barking laugh from his teammates. You rolled your eyes at his adorable comment, having expected nothing less from him. 

“I’m not that good-looking.” You absentmindedly commented, causing Cale’s head to whip around to face you. Your own cheeks started to get rosy, and you could only meet his confused look with one of your own.

“You look amazing, I’m lucky that you came with me.” Even more so, your face flushed at his compliment to the point where you were certain that you matched the color of his hair.

“Oh, my god. I’m just going to tell them.” EJ sounded so exasperated, but there was still traces of his smug grin. You and Cale both looked to him for answers, but he was just looking to Gabe and Mel. Gabe seemed to be on the side of EJ spilling whatever it was but Mel was shooting him a stern look. There was some silent discussion, Mel nudging her husband’s shoulder in reprimand for a fault you weren't sure he had made.

“Remember what we were talking about the other day after practice?” Gabe turned his focus to Cale, who for a moment looked at his captain dumbly. You watched with confusion as Cale registered what Gabe had been talking about, before nodding slightly, his lips set in a firm line. Gabe gestured with his thumb over his shoulder towards the balcony, and Cale nodded once more.

You tried not to jump out of your own skin as Cale threaded his fingers through yours and tugged you in the direction his captain had just suggested. You shot Mel a look over your shoulder, but the blonde only gave you two thumbs up, and encouraging smile on her face. 

The Denver night was cold, but it felt nice against your flushed skin. Once the balcony door was shut, Cale dropped your hand and moved to stand at the railing, his grip tight on the metal. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you moved closer to him, placing a shaky hand on his bicep to try and silently coax an answer of what was going on out of him. 

“The guys chirp me a lot.” He leads, and you stay quiet, knowing that was not what he needed you to follow him outside for. “Mostly because I’m the rookie, but also because of you.”

“Me?” The question fell past your lips in little more than a whisper. Cale nodded, turning to face you. You weren’t sure if he meant that his teammates didn't like you, but you felt like that wasn't the reason. At least, you hoped. 

“I’m like, so into you, and they give me so much shit for it.” He confessed, and you felt the corner of your lips turn upwards. 

“I mean, if you’re being sappy then I don't blame them.” You couldn’t help but tease, and you could tell he knew you felt the same when you noticed you beaming up at him. He groaned at your comment, dropping his head back at your comment as he cheeks turned red. “Smile.”

“No.” He shot back, but despite his comment you could tell he was grinning widely.

“You’re smiling, though!” He chuckled at you comment, tilting his head forward to look at you once more. His smile was soft, gaze flicking from your eyes down to your lips and back up. You leaned forward a bit and that was all the invitation Cale needed to duck down to your level press a gentle kiss to your lips. 

The kiss was slow and sweet, just as you expected it to be with Cale. Ever the gentleman, his hands found home on your waist but never explored any further. When you pulled away for air he used his grip on you to anchor you to your spot right in front of him. You weren't sure who was grinning brighter, but you were certain an argument could be made on both of your behalves. Cale was the first to break the silence, you were still too shocked to do speak.

“Yeah, I am smiling.” 

[redrosesartcabin]

Self indulgent series Part 2.2 (last part for now)

Life part 2

(And here’s the link to Life part 1: https://redrosesartcabin.tumblr.com/post/643294968092442624/self-indulgent-series-part-21 )

It was two months since they had been in New York City.

Y/n was recording her newest album in her favorite studio in Dublin. She had felt a little strange in the morning but had just brushed it off as being especially hungry after eating had made the strange feeling almost entirely disappear.

But as she was getting into recording the songs, she felt it come back, and this time much, much worse. It converted into illness.

And in the middle of the sentence, she just couldn’t do it anymore; she ran.

“Mrs.Kon”, the producer, Mrs.Long yelled, “where the fuck are you going? You can’t just-“, but she stopped herself as she heard the singer throw up in the toilet.

“Dear god”, she uttered, getting up from her seat as did the other musicians. They had already noticed something had been wrong with Red Rose. She was usually very much into her songs and nothing could break her from that, so her just running out was very concerning.

“Mrs.Kon. Are you ok?”, the producer asked carefully, standing before the stall. She felt bad for having cussed out the singer so quickly.

“Yeah, I’m fine”, y/n answered, slowly getting out of the cabin, “I must have caught some bad bug or something. I should better go… I don’t want to, but I really don’t want to spread whatever I have either”

“That’s probably a good idea. Let’s meet next week then. We’ll talk about when over the phone, I still need to check the schedule”

“Ok. Thank you so much!”

“No problem. Get well soon!”

 That however didn’t happen. Over the next few days y/n continued throwing up in the morning. She also had to go to the toilet much more often, had terrible headaches in the evening and slight back pains. And on top of that she noticed her period had skipped.

Eventually she decided to google the symptoms… and it all lead to one thing. (Not cancer luckily like google usually did!) The first article that popped up was-

“Pregnant?!”, she yelled out to herself.

Could it be?

But after thinking it over there was just no other explanation for the collective of strangely specific symptoms.

Immediately, she got up, went to the pharmacy and bought three different pregnancy tests.

“I want to be sure. This wasn’t planned you know?”, she told the pharmacist who looked a little surprised.

“I hope it wasn’t just a fling”, the pharmacist answered.

“Oh god no! I’ve been together with my husband for eight years and we’ve been married for two and a half. I’m good on that front. We’re however very busy people and-“

“It’ll be fine”, the pharmacist reassured her, “you’ll see. A pregnancy won’t stop you from too many plans I’m sure”

“Yeah… thanks”, y/n smiled back nervously.

“No problem. And good luck!”

 With wide eyes she looked at the three positive tests.

“Christ… I actually… wow”

She loved Kenji and he loved her, but it wasn’t the best timing.

“So what though?!”, she yelled at herself, “then I’ll drive to his set and we’ll talk. But what if he’s disappointed? What if he thinks it’s inconvenient? What if he’ll get so scared- NO, don’t even go there, y/n, how dare you?”, but still she felt nervous.

She almost felt like throwing up again but decided she didn’t vibe with that.

“I have to be strong”, she whispered to herself.

So, she packed her things and drove off.

 “Mr.Kon, your wife is here”, one of the staff members told Kenji as he got ready for the next scene.

“Oh ok”, he answered clearly surprised. He was happy to see her, because of course he’d always be happy to have her near him, yet at the same time he was annoyed she didn’t talk to him about it. He had a tight schedule, and he wouldn’t be able to tend to her as much as he’d like to and as much as she’d deserve, “send her in please”

“I will sir”, the staff member answered and only a couple of seconds later she entered. She was beautiful and radiant as always, yet something about her felt a little off.

“Hello, my darling”, he greeted her and gave her a passionate kiss she only returned shyly “, what are you doing here?”, he asked a little too annoyed. He hadn’t meant to sound like that, but her strange return of affection rubbed him the wrong way together with the fact she hadn’t talked to him about coming.

“Can’t I come surprise visit you without going completely off the rails?!”, she asked unusually aggressive.

“I mean sure; But first of all, I didn’t go off the rails and secondly: the way you act you barely seem like you actually want to”

“Which is partly true”, she answered. For a moment a moment of shocked silence passed before he took a deep breath and asked, very passively aggressive.

“Now, what is that suppose to mean?”, but before she could answer he was called for the scene.

“We’ll talk about this later”, he answered, glaring at her, which she returned with an equally angry stare. Of course, in actuality, they were both pretty hurt by this short yet very heated conversation. He was hurt because she seemed to be angry at him for something and was only here to announce that and she was hurt because she hadn’t meant to be like that.

At first, she pretended she was mad at him and sat down on the stool he had sat on to get ready, almost fuming.

How dare he be annoyed she was here without announcing her presence! But the more she thought about it, the more she recognized she had messed up. She had converted her nervousness and fear into pure ratchetness to appear right in the situation. And the more that became clear, the more she felt tears build up. Her emotions were all over these days. She was an emotional person under normal circumstances, but with her condition it was even worse. When she had seen him after two weeks of not seeing him in person, she had wanted nothing kiss him and spend hours hanging around and whispering sweet nothings. And at the same time, she almost fainted with how nervous she was about this whole thing.

“Gosh I’m a mess”, she whispered and couldn’t hold back the tears.

 Two hours later, Kenji had finished with the scene.

He stretched himself, cracking his neck and shoulders and putting on a serious expression.

He was ready to face whatever she was mad about, even if it hurt him, even if it wasn’t true.

Opening the door with a bit too much force, he felt how worked up he was. But as he saw his wife bawling her eyes out on the couch in the right corner of the room, his facade he had built up to prepare for an argument dropped.

He was confused and concerned. She wasn’t angry? What was wrong? Yet he also asked himself what had her in such distress.

He however didn’t dare to touch her yet.

“Darling?”, he asked softly instead, his right hand hovering over her.

She turned around in a quick motion and threw herself in his arms.

“I’m so so so so so sorry”, she whispered, “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have been like that”

“Hey, hey”, he answered, wrapping his arms around her protectively, “It’s ok. Just tell me what I did wrong”,

“That’s the thing: You did nothing wrong.”

“Then why were you so angry at me?”, he asked, genuinely confused

“I’m not angry at you: I’m scared”, she explained, barely able to say it.

“Why? Have you done something wrong?”, he asked

“No… or well a little maybe… I don’t know. It depends”

“Depends?”

“On if you will be ok with it”

“With what? For Christ’s sake y/n, talk to me” he said, frustrated at the guessing game.

She stepped back, looking at him and wearing a sad smile.

She opened her mouth slightly, but not a word came over her lips. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath and finally she spoke, “I’m pregnant, Kenji”

Deafening silence filled the room. Kenjis mouth and eyes were wide open in shock and surprise and for a while, he himself felt he was at a loss for words or even thought as he heard his heart hammer in his chest.

 “By me, right?”, he asked after a couple of minutes.

“Yes, by you! Geez … You seriously chose that as your answer?”, she retorted, disappointed at the reaction.

“Of course: Why else would you think I’d be angry at you for being god damn pregnant?”, he asked his voice loud and unusually squeaky

“I was scared you’d maybe find it inconvenient and-“

“Y/n! I told you a thousand times not too overthink too much!”, he scolded her, but with a smile that indicated it was meant in a fun and good-hearted spirit, “I love you. You are my everything. You and especially not a life we created together could ever be an inconvenience. I love you and even if we were still too young, or too poor or at war, I’d be happy.”

She started crying again, but this time of happiness.

“Gosh I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have doubted you again… I should really stop overthinking. I love you so much”, she answered and gave him a salty kiss he still gladly accepted.

 After a couple of months (after the mark where it was sure the baby would live and a miscarriage was unlikely), Kenji and y/n announced the pregnancy publicly which was received with a lot of well wishes and happiness by the fans as well as the family.

Plus, Kenji announced he’d take a break from participating in acting roles for the last three months of Red Roses pregnancy as well as the first six months of the baby’s life.

‘I want to be there for my wife in the hardest times of the pregnancy and the beginning of our childs life to help her and me adjust to the life of a parent as well as bonding as a father’ which was also very much supported by most, though some thought it was stupid since income was needed with the expenses that came with having a child. Kenji however assured those that Red Rose, and him, had earned more than enough to live comfortably even with him not being active or as active as an actor for a little less than a year.

 “So, you didn’t have the stomach flu back then?”, Mrs. Long had asked, amused as Red Rose had returned for the last recording session before the would go into maternity leave.

“Nope. Definitely not that”, y/n laughed as she carefully petted her now slightly, yet clearly rounded belly

 Six months in, it was figured out they would be having a daughter. Kenji Kon and Red Rose however decided not to reveal the name until she was born.

“That’s bad luck where I’m from!”, Red had explained to her fans.

 After that doctors visit Kenji had come home permanently for the time being. He had officially gone into “parenting vacations”, so to speak.

Y/n was happy he was going to be home for so long. She respected his work a lot and was fine with being alone for long periods of time, she had become tired of it real quick though as she advanced in her pregnancy with their daughter. Partly because moving around and about became more exhausting the more her belly grew, and she just felt she needed his support… but mostly because she was extremely hormonal. She missed him a lot more than usual…

 It was a picturesque morning as y/n woke up by little kicks inside of her stomach.

‘She always does this’ she thought a little annoyed yet endeared. She loved feeling her daughter like that. It assured her again and again that she was alive and healthy.

“Good morning little one”, she whispered, knowing it was early and Kenji probably wasn’t awake yet, he was a long sleeper…

Kenji…. Kenji… thinking about him made her feel all giddy inside. She carefully turned around to face him (she found she was more faced away from him these days since she was very conscious of her belly not getting in the way of him being able to move around. He was a very active mover in his sleep, just like his unborn daughter).

He looked so peaceful as he gently breathed through his strong looking yet pointy nose. His hair looked perfect, as always. Only a couple of strands hung loosely from the top and low onto his forehand, which she honestly loved, because it made him look so… himself. He wasn’t all charming, not all dolled up and prepared to look perfect every second of the day. He was himself. Kenji and nobody else. Just like he was with her, but maybe even more relaxed. His lips were slightly open, though he wasn’t drooling this time. She had to hold back a giggle as she remembered several times where he woke up embarrassed and in denial.

“That’s just a humidity spot from the sweat we produce whilst sleeping” he had said with a childish pout and she had simply laughed.

She didn’t care, she loved him all the more for his faults even though he tried to deny them oftentimes.

Gosh… she loved him so much it almost hurt.

  “Good morning, love”, Kenji heard his wife’s sweet voice as he slowly awoke.

“Good morning?”, he asked, his voice still a bit groggy. As he opened his eyes, his gaze immediately fell upon his wife.

She stood there, her blond hair shining y/h.c in late morning sunlight. Her pregnant form was in a comfortable looking, but still form hugging black dress, her lips were painted red and her eyes were framed in her iconic winged eyeliner.

She looked stunning.

Merit came forward slowly and put a tray that had some pancakes stacked on it, some orange juice and a cup of coffee on his lab.

“I woke up early and thought why not make you a nice bed-breakfast for my wonderful husband?”, she explained even though he didn’t ask, though he also couldn’t deny that he hadn’t wondered about that. He smiled in gratitude.

“Thank you, beautiful, I appreciate it”, he said, giving her a quick, but passionate kiss before digging in.

 “I’ll go shopping-“, she started, but was immediately interrupted by a coughing Kenji, who in is hurry to stop her from going almost choked on the piece of pancake he had been chewing.

“No wait! I’ll go after breakfast. You’ve already been so kind to make this for me, you should really take it slow”

She giggled at that.

“I’m not that fragile darling. I’ve been shopping on my own last week when you were still at the shooting too.”

“All the more reason I should help you out now!”, he exclaimed. She swooned how adorable he was acting.

“Thank you darling”

“Anything for you”

“I’ll go sit in the garden for a bit then”, she said, trying to hide her blush. This had been one of these cheesy conversations that just made her head spin.

What a life.

 (Warning: It’s getting a bit less Pg here, but I still wanted to keep this scene)

 “WHY THE HECK DID I EVER ALLOW A D*CK TO ENTER ME!”, y/n screamed.

Labor was painful.

This was worse than anything she had ever felt.

It was the 16th of November 2028.

A week after what the doctors would predict was the birth, so pretty on time. Everything also seemed to go very well.

But still birthing was so painful.

She hated being alive right now.

She hated being a woman, which she honestly never had: Her periods were very kind to her, and she had never been disadvantaged in her life because of that… except right now.

And oh she LOATHED having been seduced by this mother*cker: Her husband.

That beautiful, charming man.

The devil himself in his holy form, impregnated her to make her suffer.

“I WILL NEVER HAVE SEX AGAIN I SWEAR”, she screamed.

One of the nurses couldn’t hold back a snicker and thought, and luckily could refrain from saying out loud ‘that’s what they all say. And in two years they’re back with a new baby’

And of course, the nurse was right. And of course, y/n knew deep down she’d forget the pain later and have sex three weeks later, if not earlier.

Though not right now. Oh no, right now she’ll scream and blame him for her pain whilst crushing his hand.

The doctors had explained Kenji beforehand that y/n will be quite distressed, so he had been mentally prepared to be cussed out.

Though wow did he feel bad right now. And not because of the fact he thought his fingers would break any second.

 Twelve hours later it was finally done: Their daughter was born.

Their red headed flame of joy: Tove Kon.

And as expected: When y/n got to lay her eyes on her, she immediately forgot the pain, because whatever she had just gone through brought this little angel to earth. An angel she had made with the man she had loved for over twelve years.

And Kenji… oh Kenji fell in love with a second girl. This, he said to himself, is the second love of his life. He’d do anything for her. He’d be there as much as she could. He wouldn’t become like his father.

“Are you ok love?”, y/n asked him concerned as he was laying, next to her, caressing their daughters little head. At first, he was surprised at that question but then noticed tears running down his cheeks.

“I just… I love her so much, but I’m afraid I’ll become like my father and I don’t want to. I want to love her and give all I can of myself”

Y/N smiled brightly at that. This man truly was so full of devotion and kindness.

“You won’t become him. You couldn’t: Because you love us too much. And that kind of love can’t be broken. You are you, not him. And if you even so much as stray a centimeter away I’ll make sure you stay, ok? I’ll take care of us and I know you will too”

“Thank you. I love you”

“As I love you”

(I’m so sorry, this stuff is so cheesy xD But I hope you liked it anyways. I really wanted to share this with you, just because I know that I’m pretty much the only one who writes Kenji x reader stuff and I spent so much time on this.

Also: If you are interested in the unedited, less Pg version, lemme know. Also don’t worry: They are either both underage or both adults in these scenes, so nothing to worry about)

[juuls]

Pharmacist/Me = 1 🏆 Doctor/Nursing Staff = 0

Thank you in advance for reading this rant. I’ve been really frustrated and just needed to get this off my chest, and today at least I had a wonderful knight in a white lab coat. 🩺❤️‍🩹🥽🥼💪🏻

Content warnings and squicky squicks: (further down there is) an image of a medical vial with a clipped image of a more benign part of a syringe, health conditions (endometriosis, fibromyalgia), menstrual cycles and associated terms such as bleeding and other things, lack of empathy in my specific healthcare system, hysterectomies, pain, swearing and losing patience. Most important warning: self-administered syringes and injection discussions of legal medications (Depo-Provera) approved of by professionals and properly researched. P.S. this may sound rather Karen-like but I would never do this to someone’s face. Online ranting and acknowledging where I could do better is not the same as screaming in public for bossy requests or comps, etc. Ew.

Another ‘warning’… pharmacists being kick-ass allies and giving a damn about their patients.

I’m really annoyed because (and I know healthcare and scheduling is a clusterfuck right now, but…) for over a month now I’ve been trying to get an appointment in person to get this injectable medication that is, yes, birth control, but is also used for endometriosis in my case. And I have severe endometriosis (exacerbated severely by fibromyalgia, siiiiigh) to the point I bleed enough and lose so much I have to go to the hospital when my care is not properly preventative… like in this case, and the pain is unbelievably severe also to the point I’ve spent time in the hospital, including my 11th Christmas Eve and Day. I started this injectable medication at 13 because it was the only thing that came close to helping reduce my endometrial tissue. Even a hysterectomy wouldn’t help as much, unless they decided to go the super invasive route and remove all the organs (or parts of them) that had become ‘infected’ by the tissue. Again, tissue where it’s not supposed to be, and it causes extreme pain as the tissue tries to flush out of my body each period, even if it’s attached to, like, my pancreas. Just no. That does not work at all. No. That is not fun.

SO. I’m 31, nearing 32, and the doctor’s office knows this. I’ve had the same doctor since I was 10. Been on this medication nearly non-stop for just shy of two decades (with appropriate precautions such as bone density tests) because of the absolute severity of the pain and my inability to function when it hits… which can be months at a time of non-stop bleeding and morning sickness-level nausea and vomiting, migraines and the occasional complete inability to move—in other words, it’s debilitating.

My doctor (even the nurses, as it’s in large print at the top of my file in the system) knows all about this. They’re supposed to call me if I’m overdue by a certain margin (I get they’re busy but months and months???). But my doc’s also a bit of an airhead (albeit a smart one when he focuses) and takes forever to reply to anything on time, even when it’s a severe issue, but not severe enough to go to the hospital. But it’s gotten to the point where the nurses say to go to the ER and then the ER nurses and doctors there get SUPER pissed off (AT ME AND SOMEHOW NOT AT MY DOCTOR/NURSES AND THEIR ORDERS) at the ‘waste of time’, and it’s just a clusterfuck.

Oh yeah, and that ER visit while I was overdue for my injection? Internal intestinal bleeding along with a lovely, even if small, perforation in my fucking uterus from the growth of endometrial tissue. I MEAN COME ON — WHAT IN THE HELL. Totally preventable if they fit me in when I called literally over a month ago.

But I will not change my doctor (the other docs at the practice know what is going on and have offered to take me on, but they don’t have the experience with myself and my conditions or the history, but they can do little else because of professional conduct—it’s between myself and my doc) because he is the only one who treats me with humanity and understands fibromyalgia, endometriosis, pre-MS and pre-RhA/PsA, endo-related IBS, (ulcerative) colitis, and other neurological conditions with any degree of empathy. (See, I told you I’m a mess!) There is no way I’m switching offices in the perpetual shortage of doctors in Canada moving elsewhere for m o n e y (plus Covid-19 being a teen hooligan and constantly coming back to wreck more goddamn shit, including everyone’s sanity, then setting things on fire like the real hooligans in my village have been doing this summer — I mean… what in the hell!?!?), so with all that in mind I actually thank my lucky stars. So I put up with a lot of this shit because he treats me, besides him being an airhead, like an actual human being deserving of compassion and care and quality of life despite my severe disabilities and pain. So.

I’m usually treated really well (even if they often think I’m a nuisance for daring to be severely chronically ill/in pain all the time) so I try to be patient and good and understanding when I can.

But his STAFF (I know they’re busy and I’ve been patient but they’ve been so awful honestly to the point I cried hard enough my dad noticed my red eyes and frustration-tear fracks on my face)! And the doc himself’s inability to reply to notes on time even when urgent and when he knows the circumstances (I admit I am a bit of a hard patient so I can understand if he just kinda ignores me sometimes, honestly). But in this case I was THREE DAMN MONTHS LATE for my injection and they’ve always called in the past when I was coming due if it looked like I hadn’t scheduled an injection, so that I was all on time and squared away and didn’t risk severe pain and damage to my already-fucked hormonal system (learning I couldn’t have kids was absolutely heartbreaking, let me tell you, but even a hysterectomy in that case would solve nothing — this is by far the easiest option, especially considering how my fibromyalgia would fuck with my post-surgery recovery and leave me with lasting pain for years if not decades; sigh).

Anyway. So. After some ridiculous levels of back and forth and some truly remarkable levels of lack of compassion (she kept giving me the exact same, word for word response in a bored tone UGH) considering the severe pain I was in (I was told, in front of OTHER PATIENTS AND STAFF, that I could just wait until I talk to the doctor myself at my next phone appointment and then schedule my injection for my next MONTHLY followup — 4.5 months overdue at that point, it would’ve been — because, and I quote, ‘am used to dealing with pain because of my fibromyalgia and years of dealing with it and other conditions’ which they named in front of others!!!!!!!! what. the. fuck. But I kept my cool because I know all these people, my mom taught their kids music, they’re a fixture of the community, etc. and I refuse to be a Karen…. At least externally.

But here comes the nice part that makes me love our new (okay, he’s been here like 5 years but still, in a small town that’s pretty new lmao) pharmacist that much more. Rasik was aware of my frustration with the doctor and nurses and was even the one who brought to my attention that, at the time, I was 2 months late for my injection and he was a bit concerned since he’s privy to how much pain I exist in without throwing in one or more knives directly into my womb, ovaries, tummy, hips, and other areas my endometrial tissue has taken root. He’s such a sweetheart and he really does care for his patients— the work he does with my father’s diabetes (the tricky one where you’re not obese) management is above and beyond the call of a pharmacist and I will forever be grateful for that alone, never mind how he cares for me.

So I went in today to pick up another medication, after yet another frustrating stop-over at the nurses’ desks, and he suggested I ask for my injectable medication (it’s Depo-Provera, by the way) and the syringe plus the two tips necessary — I’m actually familiar with this since I had to learn epinephrine injections from an early age (not Epipen) and how to give testosterone daily to my ex-husband (sorry not sorry, dude, but congrats on your first kid *grouchy thumbs up*). But yeah! Legally he’s not allowed to suggest I give it to myself, but he was getting super fed up with the nurses and doctors dragging their feet and ‘being assholes with little empathy’ in his own words, so I took the hint and requested my vial plus syringe, as well as the drawing and injection gauge needles…. which he gleefully filled for me, and I reiterated that it was ‘fully my idea, not yours, Rasik, because everyone knows I’m dumb and would never think it’s you if something happened’ (I’m not dumb and I’ve given injections to others many times looool).

Long story short: HERE’S TO PHARMACISTS AROUND THE WORLD, BEING AMAZING AND CARING FOR THEIR PATIENTS AND ‘BENDING BUT NOT REALLY BENDING’ THE RULES TO MAKE SURE THEIR CLIENTS ARE CARED FOR PROPERLY. They are amazing and deserve every last bit of your courtesy, especially when they pull double duty every. single. day. because of Covid and their subsequent boosters. (i.e. boosters in the form of humans who are fucking stupid if they have no medical reason not to get the vaccine… I mean JFC.)

Rasik? You are amazing and I am 100% going to find you some Indian-Canadian (or North Indian; I believe that’s where he’s from originally) treats or desserts or make some myself after slyly asking his assistant what he leans toward liking.

Be kind to one another, yeah, but… my goodness: be kind to those who can truly make a difference in your health, sanity, and even life or death.

Pharmacists, volunteers, and frontline health workers: the true heroes of these times.

Thank you so much. So very much.

💜💙🇨🇦👨🏽‍⚕️❤️‍🩹🙏🏻

P.S. … now I just gotta stab myself intramuscularly after making sure there’s no air bubbles and etc., and swap out to the proper gauge needle (different, smaller, to draw from the vial, larger to inject so that it goes in more quickly and, oddly enough, hurts less haha). I don’t think air bubbles are as much of an issue as when injecting intravenously (ummm I have a doctor uncle and grandma nurse and nurse friends, so shush 😆). But I’ve done this for others and animals so I should be good! :)

I’m a smart enough cookie even if I’ve lost a few nibble-size pieces around the edges. 😉😘 buahaha

Cheers to my pharmacist!!!! You are amazing and I can’t wait for the pain and months and months of bleeding to settle down.

Remind me again why humans are the only mammals (animals?) with monthly fluxes? UGH wtf ever. 🙃

[painted-crow]

Submission time #13

From @noisywitchstranger

Hey! I'm fascinated by the sorting hat chats system and desperate to find out my true primary and secondary house. I thought maybe you could help me with that?

I did the test, got Slytherin Primary and Hufflepuff secondary, then read about them carefully and thought that maybe it’s not me, maybe it’s who I’d like to be (a Slytherin; I would not like to belong in Hufflepuff, to be honest).

Generally you don't end up belonging to a House you don't like. If you do, it usually means you're really Burned.

Picking answers saying “my top priority is family, what matters is only my closest people, I don’t care about the rest at all” felt really badass and I would certainly WANT these answers to be 100% true. I do believe that family and friends are very important and one should always put them first. But would I really put them first or is there something more important for me? I don’t think I would rush in to defend my loved ones, no doubt I would not have fierce outbursting emotions like “how dare you touch what’s mine”.

Houses are aspirational. Primaries are about what you feel would be the right thing to do, whether or not you actually end up doing it. If you're a Gryff primary and you ignore your gut feeling about what's morally right, do something else, and then feel guilty about it, that's still a Gryff primary reaction.

It seems possessive love is not about me. Not to mention that I just can’t be called fierce like a Slytherin. I want to be fierce but in fact I’m conflict-avoidant and peaceful because I don’t have much energy and desire to fight with people. I’d rather withdraw and wait for the situation to fix itself. 

That's not a problem. You can be a low-key Slytherin who prioritizes specific people in quiet ways. You can be a Hufflepuff who doesn't like to have tons of people in their life, but still cares about humanity as a whole. You can be a Ravenclaw who isn't an obsessive fact-finder but still cares about having a consistent understanding of the world to use in making decisions.

I feel deeply but on the outside I’m very calm and reserved. I can't and don't want to SHOW my emotions but I like describing them verbally and talking about them. I'm really bad at living in the moment (as an infj, I'm always looking into the future and/or dreaming), and I'm paralyzed when I have to decide and act quickly. I NEED to think about the situation first and analyze everything.

That might be a Ravenclaw secondary hint, if you're a big planner.

I often get called nice and kind as I’m polite and trustworthy (that’s what my parents taught me, both of them are very honest and are really bad liars and so am I). Though sometimes I don’t mind cheating a little like skipping classes or writing off a test but I don’t believe I’d do cheat if it were about something more significant than school. I don’t consider myself to be kind. I would never volunteer, I don’t like children, they annoy me cause they’re loud and disturb my inner peace. I can be quite rude with them in fact.

This doesn't say a whole lot Sorting-wise, except that you might be a "no" for Hufflepuff secondary as well.

I don't want to help strangers, if I see someone's in need of help, I usually pass by thinking someone else is going to help. I don't like myself after that but I don’t have enough resources inside to be helpful, very often I’m just not in the mood to worry about other people’s troubles.

Yeah, you're probably not a Hufflepuff, period.

I have some principles like “do no harm” “don’t kill, steal, lie” “treat everyone with respect”, "don’t judge”(at least try to) and “help people when you can.” I've got them from parents, that's how I was raised - being polite and trustworthy, showing respect and kindness. I don't understand how it's possible to have internal principles (Gryffindor primary is described like that). We've all got our values from somewhere - society, family, books. These things shape a person, forcing him to adopt principles.

Gryffs' principles come from their experiences, too. If thrown into a totally new situation, it'll take them a while to get their bearings, and their intuition gets better as they get older. But they sort through their experiences differently than other primaries.

You might have a Ravenclaw primary model, which is pretty common for Slytherin primaries--they need something to use when their people aren't relevant to the situation.

I like people but from the distance, being in public drains me too much, I’m a loner and not that into community. I want to fit in though I don't think I can. I'm weird, withdrawn and I always, ALWAYS doubt myself. Self-doubt is what I see trying to figure myself out. I ask my loved ones "Am I courageous?", desiring to hear "yes, you are" but if I hear it, I immediately start thinking "no, I'm not, you're lying, you're saying what I wanted you to".

Hmm, so you don't trust the people around you. Perhaps you haven't found much of an inner circle of trustworthy people yet? If that idea sounds really appealing, you're probably a Slythie primary.

Sorry for the long speech. I'd really like to hear your thoughts about what could be my primary and secondary house, so please answer!

It's hard to get very definitive answers from this. You might be a Slytherin primary, you might consider that you have a Ravenclaw primary model, and you've offered just a hint of a Ravenclaw secondary... but there's nothing too firm to go on here.

If you wanted to reblog with two or three question/answer pairs from each of the primary and secondary sections of the official quiz, and offer your commentary on those, that might help. I know you said you've already taken it, but running this blog has taught me that people interpret those questions in VERY different ways.

Questions where you have a passionate "yes, definitely THIS answer" response, OR the ones that kind of make you mad because you can't decide/have vastly different answers depending on context, both make good candidates for this submission format. ;D

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

Pyro and writing (more headcanons that no one asked for, because Pyro the writer is one of my favorite character traits of his that Marvel constantly neglects)

-Overall, his writing is good, but not much more than that.  If he puts in a lot of effort, it can be great, if he’s rushing, it drops down to terrible.  All his books have a few moments of really good writing, showing the potential that he has, and also moments of really dreadful writing.  As long as he gets paid and people are entertained, he’s satisfied, although he does get frustrated when he knows a scene isn’t flowing well, and he doesn’t have the time or skill to fix it.  It’s difficult to make a living as a writer (and frankly, he wants money), so he tends to bang things out quickly and publish as much as possible.  His Marvel bio says that his books were widely read around the English-speaking world, so I’m guessing that he was at least somewhat popular.  Like, he wasn’t at a Stephen King or Danielle Steel level, but people at least knew his name.

-It’s never been clear to me whether his identity as Pyro was publicly known, but I’m thinking it must have been.  If it wasn’t revealed after the Brotherhood went to jail for the first time, surely it would have been revealed after he died saving Kelly, completely out of costume.  I’d imagine it was a mind-fuck for fans who read his books.  Apparently he was still writing and publishing during the Freedom Force era, so either the general public didn’t know, or being a mutant terrorist didn’t lose him any readers.

-He willed the rights for any future royalties to Avalanche when he died.  That didn’t amount to much at the time, but his work became popular again after he died, and publishers re-printed several titles to make a quick buck.  Avalanche wound up with a tidy sum that he used to buy his bar.          

- Pyro has a generally realistic and easy-going attitude about his own writing.  He thinks it’s at least decent writing, but he knows it’s not anything fantastic or ground-breaking.  He’s read the reviews tearing him apart, he knows he’s generally thought of as popcorn, fluff reading (and he’s okay with that), he’ll cheerfully refer to himself as a hack.  But he does get annoyed if someone keeps harping on him as a bad writer, especially if that same person is claiming that writing is easy, like “Any idiot can bang out a romance novel.”  At that point, he turns to, “Oh really?  How many books have you published?  How many books have you even written?  Oh, zero?  You’ve written no books at all?  Then kindly shut the fuck up.”

-He gets similarly annoyed when people disparage the romance genre as being trashy or shallow, especially since there are plenty of popular thriller/mystery/horror/spy novels that Pyro thinks are equally terrible, but those genres don’t have the same bad reputation that romance does.  He argues that romance is just like any other genre - a lot of it is terrible, some of it is complex and beautifully written.  And even if it is terrible, who cares?  Even the terrible stuff serves its purpose.  He usually doesn’t try to defend the genre with his own work (he knows he’s not winning any battles there), but he’s got a few favorite authors that he’ll bring up.  He does read romance on his down time, he genuinely enjoys it.

-There are a few authors he absolutely fan-boys over, but I don’t know enough about romance as a genre to name specific names.  Once, long ago, one of his favorite authors wrote a moderately favorable review of one of his books, and he literally jumped around his living room from sheer joy.  He cut the review out and framed it.

-He always writes straight romance, because that’s the largest market and biggest potential seller.  His heroines are always women, and he writes entirely from their perspective.  He’ll claim that it’s because most of his readers are women, but it also leaves an element of separation between him and the character, which makes it a lot easier to project all his issues into the story.  Which he does do, quite frequently.  Sometimes he tries to write gay male romance, just private stories for himself, but it always feels too personal.  He does start sticking same-sex relationships into his books, though, just in the background.  He couldn’t be too overt without losing some of his readers (at the time that he was writing), but he’d slip in little hints.

-He writes a lot about characters having to hide aspects of their identity, which is his way of dealing with both the mutant thing and the gay thing.  One of his heroines is a white-passing WOC, and her experiences listening to white characters say horribly racist things is very much based on Pyro listening to friends and co-workers say terrible things about mutants.  Of course, it’s rather problematic for him to use race in this way, but he’s definitely got some problematic tropes in his writing.  He doesn’t mean to use it as a metaphor, just an.....emotional outlet.        

-Speaking of problematic, given the time period that Pyro was writing, I think some of his travel articles definitely lean a bit Orientalist.  There’s nothing overtly or consciously racist, he has a great deal of respect and appreciation for the countries and the cultures that he’s visiting.  But he plays up the image of “exotic” and “mysterious” Asia, especially in his earliest articles, because he’s desperate to catch readers’ attention and keep them interested.  If someone brought it up to him now, he’d probably angrily deny it....but he’d also wince re-reading some of his early stuff.  “Yeah, okay, that’s a bit over the top there.”  He gets much better about it later.

-He puts a lot of self-deprecating humor into his travel articles.  He tends to naturally be something of a braggart and exaggerate when he tells stories, but if he writes about himself as a sophisticated world traveler having wild adventures, he’d sound like Gilderoy Lockheart a complete prat.  And Australia’s tendency towards Tall Poppy Syndrome would probably make his work unpopular.  So he puts in a lot of his own stupid mistakes, and presents himself as an adventurer who’s also a bit of a silly ass, bumbling his way through a culture that he doesn’t fully understand.  The events he depicts are mostly true, if exaggerated, but he tends to omit any mysterious occurrences involving fire. Can’t have that, can we?

- He loves the idea of fan fiction.  He was writing fan fiction as a child without knowing the term for it.  And fan fiction of his own work?  He is flattered and delighted.  Of course, he does get rather frustrated when fan fiction depicts his horrible Sebastian-insert as a sympathetic character, but he’ll grit his teeth and put up with it.  Because he’s just so happy that someone liked his work enough to want to write their own version.                   

[shibalen]

💥hewwo can I pwease get a romantic male matchup for bnha (darkbox bc I live for angst) (music box) when you have the time uwu

Levi he/him gay entp supposedly (also if it's not too much to ask please no characters under the age of 18 please)

I've been described as having a strong and loud personality, I'm extroverted and outspoken. I'm pretty eccentric too.

I value friendship, kindness and standing up for others.

Goal wise I'm pretty aimless. I dont have any goals, if I die well I guess that's it babey. In the meantime I'm just here to help animals and people who need it.

Positive traits: I always stick up for people in need, I'm good at reading people, I'm good with animals, I love to make people smile and laugh, cheerful, good at talking my way out of bad situations, uhm. Friendly!

Negative traits would be: hot headed, loud, stubborn, arrogant, comes across as intimidating:( good at getting into bad situations, gets into fights very often. Can be spiteful, I've been described as a pyromaniac so theres that. Can be sadistic

What pisses me off: my father. I can and will cause trouble for that man for as long as I live. And people who pick on the weak.

My hobbies and interests areeee: true crime babey! Crying over video games, baking, the occult, taking naps, dream interpretations and tarot readings

Likes: animals, cats specifically, stars, fire, sunsets, supposedly haunted places, storms, being dramatic for the hell of it, tormenting people in a good hearted way

Dislikes: uhhhh hot weather I guess.

Quirks: uh I have 5 cats! Ones my fathers but he never takes care of his cat so i pretty much count him as my own (plus he likes me more than my dad and it pisses my dad off hehe) I have weirdly accurate intuition, it makes reading people easy, knowing what they want to hear and what they dont.

Uhhh dates and relationship wise I'm honestly happy doing whatever my s/o wants to do. All I want is to see their face light up.

My love language is physical touch, I dont like touching people but if it's someone I feel strongly about youd have to pry me away from them.

I once got kicked out of a library for starting a fight in it, trashy I know but I wasnt going to stand there and do nothing while my friends were being bullied and pressured into getting involved with a really dodgy man. I scared the bullies off for good at least B) they never bothered my friend again babey

Oh I'm also known around the area I live in as someone who's good at finding homes of lost pets. Often times I come across a lost animal and befriend it in no time and use my connections to find its family.

Sorry if this was rly long and thank you for your time!! I hope you have a fantastic day uwu if anything's too difficult to come up with ideas for I'm more than happy for you to change anything to make it easier for you too!

♡︎ matchup for anon

heya! here i am with another late matchup but i hope you still see this. i'm sorry about the delay (╯_╰)

bnha: i match you with . . .

natsuo todoroki !!

• this was one of those "heureka!" moments for me. you both hate your dads and hot weather? it's a match made in heaven! okay jk, these are just nice add-ons.

• what really made me consider Natsuo were your values and personality. kindness and friendships are important to both of you. Natsuo's a medical student so i am convinced helping others is high on his priority list too. he loves your driven and passionate nature because he doesn't go sugarcoating bs either.

• you're definitely the more energetic one while Natsuo only gets hot-headed about the things that are the most important to him. i think it's a good compromise, you can help each other out :)

• he was a little taken aback and cautious of your explosiveness at first but warmed up to it quickly after learning what a kind person you really were. now he thinks your dramatic attitude is funny during your sillier moments ٩(◕��◕｡)۶

• speaking of, you lads met at an animal shelter. there had been a dog that was astray in the neighbourhood of his home, so Natsuo, being a responsible boyo, took it to the local shelter.

• then there you were, standing by the help desk with five kittens wrapped in your jacket in your arms. apparently someone had been trying to drown them so you'd taken care of the situation accordingly.

• Natsuo understood jumping into a lake to rescue the poor animals because he would have done the same, but you could have had just called the police?? it was extremely ridiculous but admirable at the same time to beat all those guys up.

• your chat turned into a pleasant conversation afterwards as you were waiting for the animals to finish their check-ups. Natsuo was a bit shy but you didn't mind and kept the chat going which he appreciated.

• later he volunteered to help you look for good homes for the animals you'd both found. during this project the two of you got to know each other quite well and ended up hanging out together afterwards!

• and from that point on, everything fell into place naturally. the growing spark between you was undeniable and you both knew it. Natsuo definitely liked you longer, he was just a lil dense about it . . .

• you're nothing short of a hero in his eyes but dear lord he worries for you. when he's attending lectures he sometimes can't help but wonder if you're all right and not getting involved in anything violent.

• attends to your possible injuries while nagging you not to be so quick to start a fight next time. in return, you playfully bully him for being such a mom.

• you join forces with Fuyumi to pick on him about your relationship. even though you're already together, soft Natsuo still blushes when his affection for you is brought up, it's entertaining for both you and Fuyumi.

• idk if you've heard but Natsuo's 181cm tall!! hugging someone has never been easier even if you happen to be taller than him. the only thing is his skin's naturally kind of chilly so he's lowkey worried if you dislike it but you always assure him he's perfect!

• one time he was stressed over exams so you baked him some blueberry muffins. he gave you the biggest hug and kiss because it's exactly all these little things you do that set his heart racing for you ♡︎

• "last night i saw a dream about being a frog and eating giant flies, it was gross."

• "oh, that just means your love life is about to become fun."

• "i'm not sure how those two are related."

• "just trust me. i'm a pro at this."

• he also likes giving you headpats as much as he likes receiving them! his hands are quite big so he often runs his fingers through your hair when you're cuddling or hugging. it's especially relaxing after a long period of studying. also him carring you on his broad back ԅ(￣ε￣ԅ)

• you enjoy the little things in life and complain about your fathers together. you've agreed to wait a while before even mentioning your relationship to them because, honestly, Natsuo doesn't want any more horrible influences in your life.

• you get him sucked into the world of video games. it's always fun to watch him struggle but he never gets salty about losing maybe a lil he adores your smile as you laugh at him for being so bad at them.

• your dates include: helping out at animal shelters and retirement homes, video game and movie nights (especially about true crime), arcades and astronomy tower explorstions. i feel like Natsuo's more into traditional, romantic and chill dates and that's your usual thing. though i see sometimes you going to get coffee and ending up solving a 50-year-old murder case instead (✧ω✧)

❦︎ ink box

— despite Natsuo's best efforts to distance himself from Endeavor, it wasn't quite as easy and everyone was very much aware of the Todoroki family. and now the son of the number 1 hero had a lover.

— it wasn't actually that troublesome at first. some newpaper paparazzi occasionally annoyed you but you didn't care for them. most of the time Natsuo and you had your peace during dates aside from a few casual fans.

— but of course there are all sorts of people out there, some out for revenge, some for money, and being desperate means using even the lowest of methods to get what you want.

— so one time it happened, and it was all that took. several bitter villains thought they'd get their revenge through you, silly as it may sound. they made a big show of kidnapping you and demanding Endeavor to 'make up' for his wrongdoing. but all got resolved thanks to heroes, the only casualty being Natsuo's heart from almost exploding from worry and his deepening hatred for his father.

— later on, it wasn't that Natsuo was worried about you not being able to handle yourself, he feared what might happen if more of powerful villains came after you.

— so, after some debate, you agreed not to meet up for a short while to let the fuse of the incident settle down. it would be safer once the media forgot about it. you still texted and chatter over phone though!

— but then a week turned into two weeks, then into a month. you were wondering what was taking Natsuo to say the coast was clear and did a straight-up inquiry through a video chat.

— you could see he was restless the entire time. he said you should wait longer just to be sure everything was calm before meeting up. you became irritated because he was obviously lying and not being his normal, brutally honest self.

— why was he giving you this crap straight to your face?

— truthfully, Natsuo hadn't been sleeping all right recently. ever since that day he had reoccurring nightmares about something awful happening to you. they were just dreams, he knew. yet considering his ruffled up past and the frequency of those horrible visions, it would have been lie to say he was unaffected.

— paranoia just wouldn't leave him alone, and no matter how much he wanted to hold you in his arms again and hated making up stupid excuses, the voice at the back of his mind whispered this was for the best.

— after a month and a half had passed you've had just about enough, however. whatever reason he was keeping you in the dark for did no longer stop you from crashing into his house and demanding the truth.

— Natsuo knew you and expected this to eventually happen. after you made such a powerful entrance though he also knew there was no getting around it this time. really, it was comforting knowing you cared so deeply.

— he told you exactly what had been happening and you resisted the urge to punch him in the arm for having such a mindset. but the look in his beautiful grey eyes was so heartbreaking you threw yourself to embrace him instead. your touch was everything Natsuo had craved for for all this time.

— you skillfully assured him for the next couple of hours while keeping the talk light-hearted (he had obviously been overthinking way too much already). soon enough the issue was resolved and you had a sleepover right there to make uo for the lost time (Shoto and Fuyumi kept eavesdropping on you because y'all were being way too loud in a cute way).

— "i love you, Natsu, but if you ever keep something like this a secret from me again, i can't guarantee the safety of your arm or your front door."

♫︎ music box

— If I Had An Airplane by SayWeCanFly

— This December by Rick Montgomery

— Round & Laundry from Carole and Tuesday

— Haven't Had Enough by Marianas Trench

— Bowie On The Radio by Ryan McMullan

♡︎ runner up: Dabi / Touya Todoroki

thank you for requesting, hopefully you enjoyed this! i'm really pleased about matching you with Natsuo, it's just so perfect. have a lovely day and remember to take care of yourself ♡︎

[myownworldstayout]

New Friends Ch. 6

Ch.1 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 7

(Have fun reading!)

Adrien came into school the next morning determined to talk to Marinette again. And this time- this time -he would get her to listen. He had to, or their very friendship was at risk. 

He expected her to be off again. He expected her to be upset. It was only natural, he supposed. 

What he didn’t expect, was Marinette walking into the classroom- early at that- with a bright smile and a box full of delicious looking cookies. 

He didn’t hesitate to take one when she told them to have their fill. She didn’t try to challenge Lila. she didn’t give any subtly snarky remarks. She just cheerfully walked to the back and sat down, watching over them with a small cup of tea. 

I guess she came around. Adrien thought with relief. He knew she would. It was Marinette, after all. Why did he ever doubt her? 

Then he took a bite of the cookie. 

Immediately upon doing so, he gagged at the unexpectedly nasty taste. The rest of the class began spitting out the cookies as well, turning to a smiling Marinette. These were oatmeal cookies. 

“You gave us oatmeal!” Alya said, throwing the offending food aside.

“Is there a problem? I thought you guys said you wanted cookies?” Marinette asked innocently, resting her chin on the back of her hand.

Adrien frowned when he realized what she had done. This was planned, possibly planned from the very beginning when she accepted Lila’s prodding. 

It only made matters worse when Felix came to her defense. Again. 

“You should have been specific in what you wanted, especially since Dupain-Cheng is making these for free.” 

What he said wasn’t wrong, but that wasn’t the point. Marinette knew quite well that no one in the class liked oatmeal cookies. She deliberately made them oatmeal instead of chocolate chip to get back at the class. 

It’s alright. Adrien assured himself, pulling out his tablet for first period. 

He’d talk to her. They would get through this. Adrien would make- help her understand what she was doing and they would fix it. After all, they were in this together. 

~~~~~~

“When did the class tell you they wanted cookies?” Felix inquired as they walked through the lunch line. He didn’t remember that exchange in class. 

“They asked me yesterday morning before you came in.” Marinette said, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she remembered their reactions. 

Felix nodded understandingly. “That was quite a clever trick, Dupain-Cheng. I didn’t know you had it in you.” 

Marinette blinked at him. “Was that- was that a compliment?”

“An observation.” Felix corrected, giving her a warning look. 

Marinette smiled nonetheless. Compliment or observation, she was pleased to hear it. 

After paying for their lunch, Marinette and Felix headed for the group table. They had decided to get their food at the cafeteria, but they were actually gonna go eat at the park today. 

Unfortunately, Marinette was stopped by Alya before she could reach them.

I just can’t catch a break, can I? Marinette mentally sighed, facing the redhead that was asking something about her table. 

She was asking her to sit with them, Marinette realized. 

Frowning slightly, Marinette glanced over Alya’s shoulder towards the table she was gesturing to. At the moment, Adrien, Nino, and Lila were sitting there watching them, anticipating her response. Even though Lila was there, at least Nino, Adrien, and Alya wanted her to sit with them, right? 

But why now? Marinette couldn’t help but wonder. 

“I know you and Lila don’t really get along, but if you just got to know her better-” 

Marinette stopped listening at that point. She understood what Alya was trying to do- really, she did -but Marinette did know Lila. That was the problem. It was everyone else who needed to get to know her better. 

“Alya, I can’t.” Marinette cut her off. 

Alya blinked, then put her hands on her hips in annoyance. “You can’t? Why not?”  

“I’m already eating with Luka and Felix and the others.” She explained, gesturing to the group that was patiently waiting for her near the exit. 

“You’re choosing them over us?” The hurt in Alya’s tone was clear. So why did Marinette feel like Alya was just trying to guilt-trick her? 

“She’s choosing a previously planned  engagement over a spontaneous one. It’s nothing to take personally.” Felix finally jumped in, to Marinette’s relief. She hadn’t expected him to wait with her to join the group. Marinette was glad he did, though. 

Alya’s expression turned sour. “Back off, Felix. This is between me and Marinette.”

“I’m choosing a previously planned engagement over a spontaneous one. It’s nothing to take personally.��� Marinette remarked, repeating Felix’s statement verbatim. 

frustration flash across Alya’s features before the reporter groaned- more of growled- and stormed off, grumbling something along the lines of “fine, be that way.” 

Marinette sighed, turning to Felix. “Thanks, again.”

The blond shrugged. “It’s not a problem. Ready for the park?”

A smile graced her lips. “absolutely.”

~~~~~

The park turned out to be the refreshing breath of air Marinette needed. Her troubles with her classmates seemed to blow away with the wind as she chatted with Luka and the others. 

Felix still kept to himself, but he was starting to look up from his book more and more often, which she took as a good sign. 

“Where are we gonna go today?” Aurore asked at one point, balling up her empty wrapper. 

“We’re hanging out again today?” Marinette gasped, her bluebell eyes sparkling. After a month of being isolated in the class, hanging out with friends again was the best feeling Marinette could think of. 

“As long as you’re up for it.” Luka smiled, picking up bits of everyone’s trash to go put it in the bin. 

“Oh! We should go to the Louvre today! I heard they just put in a new art gallery.” Wayhem blurted out, almost bouncing in place out of sheer excitement. 

Marinette tilted her head to the left with interest. “I didn’t know you liked the art galleries, Wayhem.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” Wayhem winked, obviously joking. 

Aurore snorted, while Kagami and Luka smiled. 

Marinette giggled, looking to Luka. “The Louvre sounds like fun. What do you think?” 

“I don’t mind going to the Louvre.” 

“I’m sure my mother will be pleased with me going to a museum.” Kagami mused, getting a smirk on her lips. 

Aurore smiled brightly, clearly on board with the idea. “Are you gonna be coming with us, Felix?” 

The group turned to Felix. 

He looked up from his book to see all eyes on him, specifically Marinette’s.

Her gaze was hopeful, but also patient.  

“I suppose a trip to the museum would be beneficial.” He relented, causing everyone to cheer.

It was just a museum. What could possibly happen?

~~~~~~

Class couldn’t end soon enough after Felix and Marinette got back from the park. 

Strangely, Felix actually found himself getting excited about the trip. The Louvre was filled with antiques and art that dated from yesterday to centuries previous. He was curious to see what kinds of artifacts he could find. 

Marinette was somewhat adamant that they leave as soon as class was over. Felix didn’t blame her. After the minor argument in the cafeteria, Cessaire was still a mixture of hurt and annoyed by her rejection. 

Not to mention, Agreste had been staring back at Marinette for most of the class. To the point that Felix had to resist the urge to physically turn the boy’s head back to Mlle. Bustier himself. 

He liked to think Agreste staring at Marinette so intently only made him aggravated because of their unsaid feud, but it felt like there was more reason behind it. Marinette seemed uncomfortable as well, which only made Felix even more irritated when the model wouldn’t let up. 

When the bell finally rang, Marinette was on her feet and out the door in seconds, Felix not far behind.

Adrien tried to follow and get Marinette’s attention. Lucky for them, he didn’t get the chance since Kagami’s car was already parked out front. 

Felix helped Marinette into the car, before getting in himself. It only took a few extra seconds for the others to meet them, and then they were gone.

~~~~~

Next thing Felix knew, he was walking into the Louvre, being urged by the others to move faster so they could see it all. 

“If we run past all of them, we won’t get to fully appreciate their beauty.” Felix pointed out, gesturing to an oil painting on the wall to his right. 

“‘The Raft of the Medusa’, for example. It was painted in the 19th century by Théodore Géricault. It depicts the survivors of the Medusa shipwreck calling for help when they see the outline of a ship that could save them.” He explained in a knowing tone. 

At this point, the group had walked back over to Felix, studying the painting as he spoke. 

“Do you know the history of all the paintings?” Marinette asked, intrigue lacing he tone. 

It caused Felix to hesitate. “Well, Probably not all of them, but most of these paintings, yes.” 

Marinette nodded thoughtfully, studying the painting before them.

“Tell me more.” She then requested, giving him a soft smile. 

Felix stared blankly at her for a moment, admittedly stunned. He didn’t think she would want to hear about it. No one usually did. 

She wouldn’t ask if she didn’t want to know, though. He considered. 

So Felix did. He brought Marinette on a “tour” of some sorts, describing each painting and its history. Anything he couldn’t remember, Marinette made a point to ask a worker or look it up. She was genuinely interested in what he was saying, taking in every word. It made Felix feel.. Pleased, and content. That someone actively sought out his opinions or knowledge was a nice change. 

Since Marinette was so interested in the history, it caused the rest of the group to start asking questions as well. By the time they left the museum, Felix’s throat actually kind of hurt from talking so much. 

~~~~~~

“Do you guys need a ride home?” Kagami offered as they walked outside. The sun had long since set at this point. 

I didn’t realize we’d been here so long. Marinette thought to herself, looking up at the clear night sky. 

A crescent moon peeked over the Eiffel Tower, providing a soft, silver glow amongst the buildings of Paris. 

“That’d be nice if you don’t mind.” Luka accepted. The river wasn’t far from where they were, but he didn’t feel like walking home at this hour. 

“Wayhem and I are walking home together as usual.” Aurore politely declined, linking her arm with Wayhem’s. 

“My house is only a few blocks from here.” Marinette also declined, gesturing towards the buildings to the right. 

“Are you sure? I can walk with you if you want.” Luka suggested, a hint of concern in his voice. 

Marinette almost had to keep herself from laughing. It was sweet that he was concerned, but it was an entertaining thought for someone to worry about Ladybug’s safety. 

Before she could reply, however, Felix spoke up. “I’ll walk with her. The bakery is on the way to my house.” 

The group was a bit surprised, but nodded. 

“Cool, see you guys tomorrow!” Wayhem said with a wave, starting the walk to Aurore’s house. 

Luka and Kagami said their goodbyes to Marinette and Felix and got into the car. 

The two lingered for a moment, quietly watching the car drive off. 

“Shall we get going?” Felix then asked, turning to Marinette once the car was out of sight. 

Marinette pulled a sweet smile. “Let’s.”

Tag list: @unabashedbookworm @bluerosette23 @minightrose @im-here-for-the-content @clumsy-owl-4178 @fanboy7794 @angstyrastuff @choaticneturcl @bigcheeseyboi @burntnugget-tae @ayuchan07 @kuroko26 @honorisfortheweak @knightrose15 @mjisntme @dargeon-lissa @kristycocopop @alumneia

[angelsandacceptance]

The Day of the Black Sun

Usually, when the girls woke up, they didn’t see a man standing at the edge of their beds, staring at them.

Chase wakes up, and upon sitting up, is greeted by the sight of Castiel, the look on his face the constant confusion he seems to wear. Chase lets out a shriek, causing Harley to bolt up, ready to fight whatever might be there.

Harley looks very surprised to see only Castiel there. 

“What the actual Hell are you doing?” Chase demands. 

“Heaven has a job for the two of you,” Castiel says simply.

“And heaven can’t wait for us to already be awake?” Chase sighs. “How long have you been watching us, anyway?”

Castiel blinks. “I’ve only been watching for an hour.”

Harley looks at Castiel in disbelief. “Right. An hour. That makes it totally okay then.”

“A seal is dangerously close to being broken. You need to stop it from happening.”

“I thought you had your fellow angel soldiers protecting the seals,” Chase says, climbing out of the motel bed. Castiel watches her carefully, and she can’t tell if he looks more annoyed or tired.

“You really think this is easy. More of my brothers have died in this past week battling for seals than in the past two thousand years.”

“Didn’t you say you haven’t been on earth in two thousand years?” Harley asks. “That makes your statistics skewed.”

Castiel gives her a harsh look.

“Okay, so heaven has a job for us. Can we at least get dressed and eat or something?” Chase asks.

“Of course.” Castiel stays staring at them.

“Um, Cas?” Chase asks.

“Yes?”

“Can you, you  know, come back after we’ve changed?” Chase asks, making a shoo-ing gesture. He narrows his eyes at her. 

“Bye bye, my angelic acquaintance.”

“I will be back,” he says. Castiel then disappears, leaving the girls staring at the wall, blinking in confusion. 

“Doesn’t poof, my ass,” Chase snorts. She shakes her head and starts to change. By change, she simply shrugs on a flannel over her tank top, slipping her loose jeans on. Harley on the other hand has to wiggle into her skinny jeans and throw on a band tee. There wasn’t really a reason for Castiel to leave, other than Chase wanted to talk to Harley alone. “So, what do you think he wants us to do?” 

“Save the world. Risk our lives. Y’know the usual.”

“How very typical.” Chase pours herself coffee. “Do you think he’ll let us get pie first? Even a muffin would suffice.”

“He better. I don’t get my pie, I start ripping throats out.”

“See, even though I know that’s a legitimate thing for you, I gotta say. I totally agree with that mentality.”

“What’s the point of being a vampire if you can’t make light of it?” Harley shrugs.

“No point that matters.”

“I am back,” a deep voice says. 

The girls turn to see Castiel in the same place as before, as though he’d never left.

“Man, you gotta loosen up,” Chase says. “Ever tried looking more, y’know, human?”

“No.”

“Cas, that really wasn’t that long. You’re lucky I mastered getting dressed in under a minute because I was always late to school. Poof like that and you’ll be labeled a perv.”

“I do not understand. I do not have any intention of seeing you in a less than modest state.”

“Again with the need to loosen up,” Chase says with an eye roll. “It’s a joke, Cas.”

“Kinda. Seriously though, lengthen your poofing periods.”

“You’ve been given time. Now, you have a job to do.”

“What is this job?” Chase asks.

“A seal is being broken. A ritual you have to stop, that causes a solar eclipse. You must find the demon performing this ritual, and stop it.”

“Any other information you can give us?”

“No.” Cas turns away slightly, concentrating on seemingly nothing. “Time is almost up. I will send you there now.”

“Pie. We need pie. I don’t get pie, I start ripping throats out.”

Cas looks vaguely startled, looking at Harley strangely. “You get physically violent when you do not have pie?”

“She does,” Chase says, shrugging. “Can you blame her? Pie is life.”

Cas’ eyes narrow, and he just takes an unnecessary breath, blinking slowly. “I do not understand.”

“I’m a vampire, kinda, sorta. It’s complicated. But basically cherry pie is the only thing that can assuage my thirst for blood.”

“I see,” Castiel responds, nodding slowly. “But, as for your job. I will send you there now.”

Before either girl can protest, Castiel has closed the distance between himself and them, placing three fingers on each of their foreheads.

***

Chase and Harley suddenly find themselves standing on the sidewalk of an old looking town, each holding a piece of pie by the crust which promptly breaks and falls on the sidewalk.

“Well,” Chase starts, looking down at her now empty hands. “At least he got us the pie.”

“Too literal for his own good,” Harley sighs.

“Okay, so first things first. We find a lead on wherever this demon might be. I say we start at the local diner that this town has got to have. What state are we even in? They better have apple pie, because I am not in the mood to mourn what is currently at my feet.”

The girls begin walking around town, getting their bearings and looking for a diner. Finally, they spot one. 

“Brimstone Diner. What are we? In medieval times?” Chase jokes. 

“I think it sounds cool, but then again I am a sucker for a renaissance festival.”

“Oh, yeah, that sounds like a must for us sometime. Dean would totally be down for it too. He’d probably get way too into it, but like, on the down low.”

Harley nodded and the two friends went into the diner and ordered some pie. Apple for Chase and cherry for Harley.

“So, what’re you girls in town for?” the older waitress asks them. “Oh, don’t be surprised, dear. We don’t get a lot of new folk, so it’s easy to spot ‘em.”

“Oh, uh,” Chase starts. “A friend sent us here. Told us about some fantastic spots to work. We’re journalist photographers.”

“Stupid question, but where are we?” Harley asks the waitress, who according to the nametag is called Agnus.

Chase shoots Harley a look. So does the waitress, though it isn’t the same look. 

“Did your friend not tell you?” She asks, slightly concerned. “Why, you’re in Ocean Springs, Mississippi.”

Chase laughs it off. “He did tell us, but Nova here probably wasn’t paying attention.”

“I’m just really forgetful.”

“Well, that’s quite understandable, dear. My memory ain’t what it used to be either.” The waitress laughs slightly, waving her hand. “Anyway, let me go grab you your pie and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Thank you,” Chase says, trying to be polite.

“Thanks, Agnus, lovely meeting you.” Harley says, waving goodbye.

Agnus brings them their pies and goes off to talk to another customer.

“So I guess we should head to the library after this? Find out what ritual can cause a solar eclipse.”

“Good idea,” Chase says, taking a bite of pie. She looks down in surprise, suppressing a moan of delight. “Holy God, this is good pie.”

Harley takes a bite of her pie, “Oh yeah, the best.”

The girls eat their pies, suppressing many a moan.

***

Our awesome, badass heroines spend hours at the library combing through book after book. They had tried so many different sections, trying to find the information in lore, religious texts, and mythology. Hell, Chase had even tried looking in historical cases just in case - even though this seal has obviously never been attempted before. She was simply desperate.

               “Hey, I think I found something,” Harley says, looking up, “By the souls of these seven victims I bind the sun and moon to my will. The moon shall block the sun and the seal shall break.”

               “That’s foreboding,” Chase says. 

               “It doesn’t specify what the seal is, but I think this is our gig. It calls for, get this, three virgins, two orphans, one fetus conceived out of wedlock, and the soul of a witness to the supernatural.”

               “Okay. Wow. That’s a lot of human sacrifice,” Chase says, absorbing the new information. “Also, an unborn kid? That’s just gross.”

Chase walks over to Harley’s side of their table to read the specifications of the seal. “Harley, look at this part. Because it’s an entire eclipse, it has to be on a full moon, right? When’s the next full moon?”

“Tonight,” Harley groans.

Chase lets out a long sigh. “Of course it is. Thank you, Castiel. Your timing is, like always, impeccable.”

“At least if we prevent it tonight it’s another month till they can try again?”

“True, but does this mean it can be attempted monthly? Because I did not sign up for this. Castiel can kiss my foot if he thinks I have the time, energy, or patience to deal with this every single month just to stop the apocalypse.” 

“Maybe they’ll just give up on it if we stop them?” Harley says, hopefully and unsure.

Chase shrugs. “I guess we’ll burn that bridge when we get to it.”

“Damn demons. I swear Lillith is the bane of my existence.”

“I mean she is, quite literally, the bane of everyone’s existence. Honestly, she should get a hobby. I’m going to suggest knitting the next time I see her.”

“Knitting may be too hard though. She might go on a murder spree to vent out her knitting frustrations. What about crocheting.”

“Yeah, but isn’t she currently going on a murder spree to vent out her like, daddy issues? Crocheting is easier, true.”

“True, but a hobby is supposed to distract from that, not make it worse.”

“True. Wait, how did we start talking about this again? Moving on, where do we start in stopping this demon from breaking this seal?”

“First things first, I think we should look for potential victims.”

“Okay cool. I would say we do what we normally do, but considering Cas sent us here with no supplies, I guess we’ll have to do it the hard way. By gossiping.” Chase fakes a shudder, but is smiling nonetheless. 

“God, I hate gossiping with strangers. Shall we start with the town’s gossip column?”

“Sure.” Chase stands, overdramatically stretching. “Let’s get this bitch over with.”

***

Chase and Harley make a quick exit from the library and begin walking around town, on the lookout for anywhere they might find a newspaper, or signs for missing people. 

Finally, after wandering around for a while, Harley spots a newspaper stand. Quickly scanning through articles, there’s a prayer request filed under the town gossip section. It’s an anonymous request for a woman named Jessie Salinas, who has found out she is pregnant, and is also not married. 

Chase looks at the little article in disgust. “What a shitty thing to do to her. She’s obviously found out not too long ago, so you submit an anonymous ‘prayer’ request basically outing her situation to everyone? And it’s not even to ask for help! Just “keep her in mind”. People are so gross.”

“The worst part is they were probably ‘friends’ if Jessie told them.”

“Ouch, you’re right. I swear, if you were to do this to me, I’d probably hurt you.”

“I would never!” Harley says in mock offence knowing her friend didn’t actually think she would do it.

***

“Oh, look,” Chase says. They walk over to a tac board, where a missing person sign was hanging. “Thank God. I mean, not thank God, or. You know what. Whatever.”

The sign shows a picture of a boy around thirteen with blond hair. The name reads Jacob Stevens, and he was reported missing four days ago. 

“Well, I guess we have a couple leads?” Chase says questioningly.

“Now we just need to find five more. Should we head to Jessie’s place? Make sure her baby’s still kicking.”

“That’s probably our best bet. It’d be harder to figure out everything else first,” Chase agrees. “Where do you think we’ll find her?” 

“If we can get our hands on a computer finding her address shouldn’t be hard.”

“True. Back to the library?”

“Libraries, a hunter’s best friend.”

Chase laughs and they turn around, heading back the way they’d come.

***

Chase groans, hitting her head against the desk. “No address with that name pops up when I search it and- Oh my God, I’m an idiot.” Chase frantically backspaces, then types it in again, but this time searches for Jessica Salinas, and then grins proudly at her friend. “Found her. She lives not too far from here. West side of town, near the church.”

“Good, I’m not a fan of walking.”

“Tell me about it. He could have at least sent us with Jack.”

“When does our angel friend think things through?”

“Fair point. So he’s a friend now? Versus an ‘angelic acquaintance’?”

“He at least tried to give us pie.”

Chase shrugs. “Fair enough. Now, onto finding Jessie.”

“Off to find the Jessie, the wonderful Jessie of Oz.”

***

Chase and Harley stand on the porch of an older looking house, the paint peeling on the outside, but the garden of poppies looking very cared for. Chase reaches out a hand and knocks on the door. 

“I have my badge on me still. If you want to play cop.”

Chase reaches out and knocks once more, this time a little louder.

“Sounds good. You can introduce us then. Remember, I gave you the fake name Nova earlier. Best be consistent.”

“Coming!” A frantic female voice calls. Chase gives Harley a sideways glance, shrugging and taking a step back. A woman suddenly opens the door, her brown hair messily framing her face where it falls out of a haphazard bun. 

Her eyes are wide, but her smile wide and friendly. “Hi! Sorry, do I know you?” She asks, looking back and forth between the two girls.

“Hi,” Harley says, flashing her badge, “I’m agent Nova, this is agent Barry. We’re just asking around about the disappearances. Are you Jessie Salinas?”

Jessie, at most in her early twenties, looks confused for a moment. “Yeah, I am. Of course. Has there been another disappearance from the orphanage?”

Chase glances at Harley. “We are looking into the ones that have taken place. As far as you are aware, how many have there been?”

“Just the two I know of, oh, silly me. Would you like to come in?” Jessie opens the screen door, gesturing for Harley and Chase to enter the house.

“We’d love to,” Chase says. “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Jessie leads them into a small, but cozy, living room and gestures for them to sit on the couch. “So, you are searching for the two orphans right? Jacob and Nathan?”

Chase shoots Harley a glance, a silent plea to say something, because she herself is unsure of how to proceed.

“Those are the ones. Have you been smelling any odd smells? Maybe rotten eggs?”

“Um, excuse me?” Jessie asks. “You mean around my house or around town in general? Because the old bar always smells like something went bad, but I don’t see how that’s got anything to do with those poor children.”

“Sulfur was found at the scene of the abductions. It could be an environmental clue. It could lead up to the kidnapper.”

Jessie nods. “Oh, okay. You’re only looking into the orphans, right?”

Chase nods. “Yes, though if you have knowledge about any others, we can pass it along to our partners. Have there been any other signs of sulfur that you know of?”

Jessie shakes her head, frowning. “I’m not one to ask about that. Though you could always ask the Crawfords. Their daughter went missing a couple weeks ago, but we aren’t sure if there is any connection between the two.”

“Of course. I’ll be sure to pass along the message.”

“If I may ask, where did you learn that I may have any knowledge on the disappearances?”

Chase casts a long sideways glance at Harley. “Well,” she starts slowly. “We have reason to believe that another abduction might occur, and we wanted to investigate any of the younger adults in town. There seems to be an age progression with each kidnapping.”

Jessie shifts uncomfortably. “I’m sure I have no reason to worry. If you’re asking around town, I’m sure you’ve heard about my, uh, situation.”

“We believe your situation may put you at higher risk.” Harley says regretfully, “Our Unsub might see it as a two for one.”

Jessie lets out a nervous laugh. 

Chase leans forward, propping her elbows on her knees, trying to seem more open and comforting. “Is there anyone you know in this town that has given you any reason to fear for yourself or your child. An ex-boyfriend. A friend. A random person that hurled an insult at you. Anything of that sort?”

Jessie shakes her head. “No. I mean, there are plenty of underhanded comments, but only what you would expect from a small town this conservative. But I don’t think I can name anyone that has threatened me.”

“Has anyone shown more interest than you would deem normal? Like, I don’t know, an old teacher or mentor. Anyone you trust based on circumstance, but wouldn’t have thought would normally reach out to help you.”

Jessie pauses. “Not really, no. The only person that I really talk to about the baby is one of the supervisors of our church. She has been great help, because she herself has had three children. Just some advice on how to take care of myself. But I don’t really talk to anyone else about it and no one else has reached out.”

“What’s her name?” Harley asks.

“Vanessa Wali.”

Chase nods, sitting back. “Well, thank you. And if you do hear anything from anyone that seems out of the ordinary, let us know.”

A phone rings from the other room. “I’m so sorry. I have to get that, it might be my doctor.” Jessie gets up and leaves the room.

“Do you want to stay with Jessie or go question Vanessa?”

“I can go do the questioning if you want to stay here. One thing I do have to wonder though. I thought the person we’re looking for is a demon, right? Jessie says she only meets up with Vanessa at the church. How is that possible?”

“Maybe the demon isn’t working alone? I don’t know. It’s our best lead so far.”

“True. That and the bar. Jessie mentioned there’s been sulfur smells there. I can check out both. I’ll call you after I meet with Vanessa, okay?”

“Sounds like a plan partner.”

***

Chase finds herself in an old Methodist church fit with everything stereotypical, from wooden pews, to a bell in the bell tower on top of the steeple. She hesitantly opens the doors, praying to the God she now knows is out there somewhere (though she isn’t sure if she should take Castiel’s certainty to heart yet) that Vanessa is there today. 

Scanning the room, she spots a pastor near the altar, shuffling papers, likely sermon notes. She approaches him cautiously, a hand in her pocket, ready to grab the knife at a moment’s notice. 

“Hi, can I ask you a question really quickly? Sorry, I don’t mean to disturb you,” Chase says, keeping her voice quiet in the mostly empty room.

“No, no, always happy to help a child of God.”

Chase flashes a smile, hoping it doesn’t look as forced as it feels. “I was told I could see a Vanessa Wali. Is she here today?”

“She actually isn’t. What did you need her for?”

“Oh, I was told to see her to pick up some medication for Jessie. You know, Jessie Salinas? Do you know where I can find Vanessa?”

“She should be at her house, across the lane where the cherry trees are.”

“Thank you! Have a nice day.”

“Of course!” He exclaims in a bright tone. Chase waves, taking a quick exit. She rushes over to the large house across the way, the aroma of cherries strongly taking over Chase’s senses. 

Chase immediately recognizes the sickly sweet smell of Valerian Root hidden in the cherry scent. Chase shakes her head, pinching her wrist to stay alert, hoping the Valerian Root is coincidence. Of course, when has anything in her life been purely coincidence?

A symbol scrawled hastily over the door looks like it could pass as religious, but Chase immediately recognizes it as an occult sigil. Well, shit.

Turning on her heel, Chase redirects herself from the front porch. Pulling out her phone, she hurriedly calls Harley, already booking it back to Jessie’s house. Harley’s answering machine picks up.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Harley. You better be fine, or I’m going to actually kill you.”

The door is ajar when Chase rushes up the porch steps, blanching. The room smells of Valerian Root, a thickly sweet scent that makes Chase’s eyelids droop, and she curses under her breath.

“Harley, I swear to God.”

***

Harley noticed a sickly sweet smell creeping into the house and turned to Jessie. Jessie’s eyes began to droop. Harley managed to fight off sleep a little longer before collapsing. When Harley came to, Jessie was still out and they were both tied to a pole in what looked like a basement. 

“The bar,” Harley mutters under her breath, realizing the demon knocked them out with... Valerian Root? 

That doesn’t make sense. Valerian Root is more of a witchy thing. There were seven other people in the room, but only two were free. Two women were standing by a table. They were conversing over a large pewter bowl. Harley couldn’t hear them. She started undoing  the rough rope behind her.

“Hey assholes, why don’t you untie me and we’ll see how this plays out,” Harley says, pulling the witch and demon’s attention away from the ritual and onto her.

“How are you awake already?” A woman in her late thirties with short light brown hair asked, “The Valerian Root should still be affecting you?”

“I’m not exactly normal.” Harley spit out.

“My, my, you’re a fun one,” The other woman says. She was in her twenties with long black hair. Her eyes flashed black for a second. “I’ll almost miss you when you’re gone.” 

The demon crouches down to Harley’s level, “I’m Hazel. These are your new friends. Rueben, Stephanie, Evangeline, Jacob, Ray, and you’ve already met dear sweet Jessie,” Hazel listed off the names pointing to each corresponding person. “But who are you dear? Hmm?”

“What’s your pay grade? Must be pretty low if you don’t know who I am.”

“I want to hear it out of your pretty little mouth.”

“You aren’t too bad yourself. Are you the one that tied me up? I’m not opposed to bondage.”

“You wish. You’re vermin that’s wandered into my trap. The dirt on my heel. You’re a disgusting worthless halfbreed.”

“And I’m damn good at it.” Harley sneers. She gets free of her bonds, grabs Hazel’s head, and slams it down onto her knee dazing the demon. Harley pulls her gun out and shoots at the witch hitting her in the shoulder. 

***

Chase rushes into the bar and sees Harley shoot a woman with short hair in the shoulder. Another woman straightens and goes to attack Harley from behind. Eyes widening, Chase rushes up in time to stab her short pocket knife into the back of the woman’s neck.

“Harley, the demon blade!”

Harley spins around and quickly assesses the situation, taking her demon blade and stabbing the woman in her stomach. The woman’s body collapses, the demon now gone. With a quick shot to the head, the witch is also dead. 

Chase breathes heavily, putting her gun back into its correct place in her waistband. Harley starts untying the kidnappees. Chase shortly follows suit.

“I’m hungry. Wanna head back to the diner?”

“That sounds like a great idea. Let me drop an anonymous tip to the local police and I’ll be ready to go.”

After doing just that, Harley and Chase find their way back to Brimstone Diner. 

“How is it that you manage to get kidnapped by a demon and a witch?” Chase teases, Agnes, the same woman who served them earlier, walking away with their orders. “Losing your touch?”

“That witch made a Valerian Root knockout bomb.”

“I figured. Cherries can only hide the smell so much. Honestly she should’ve known better. The Valerian mixed with the cherries just made the entire place smell like it’d been drenched with cough syrup.”

“I’m just lucky I came to when I did. Guess it’s one of the benefits of being a halfbreed.”

Chase wrinkles her nose at the word. “I suppose.”

Agnes comes back with two orders of pie, gives a smile, then walks off to serve other customers. 

Harley and Chase immediately begin to eat, the day’s efforts having made them extremely hungry. 

“You saved the seal,” A male voice says. Chase and Harley snap to attention, startled by the sudden appearance of Castiel. Castiel sits next to Chase in the booth, and stares between the two girls inquisitively. 

“Can you stop poofing everywhere. You’re gonna give me a heart attack,” Harley complains.

“I do not poof,” Castiel replies sternly.

“‘Cept you do.” Harley fires back.

Castiel just sighs knowing that it is a waste of breath to argue with her.

“Why do you sound surprised, anyway? About us saving the seal?” Chase asks.

Castiel looks at them both carefully. “I did not predict the outcome of this attempt to be successful.”

Chase looks at him, vaguely annoyed. “You sent us on a hunt you thought we’d fail? Then why even send us?”

“My brothers and sisters were busy.”

“Well next time let us grab weapons and stuff. We barely scraped by on what we had.” Harley says, annoyed.

“It was best you go immediately.”

Chase rolls her eyes. “Well, if you wouldn’t mind taking us back once we’re finished with our food, that’d be great.”

Castiel nods slowly. “Alright.”

***

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to poofing,” Chase says, disoriented after being transported back to the motel. “Also, quick question, you did tell Sam and Dean where we were, right?”

Castiel suddenly looks more uncomfortable than normal. “They were both otherwise engaged. Dean should be able to fill you two in on what happened to him.”

“And Sam?”

“Sam is an unreliable source,” Castiel says evasively. 

“How is Sam an unreliable source? We’ve known him longer than you,” Harley questions.

“Dean is about to leave to find Sam. You can catch up to him easily, since he only now left.”

“Okay, thanks. Wanna tell us where we’re going?” Chase asks.

“425 Waterman,” Castiel responds quietly. “But, I’m warning you. You won’t like what you find.”

[naturaldisasterfanfiction]

31. Part 3

Switching the monitor on “I saw the family, gave Monica a hug. One of the biggest hugs, she said that her daughter is an Angel, she did something she could never do. She was singing praises at the store, it was cute. They all want to see the baby Robby” I chuckled “you know what, Chris and I with Fenty will come and see Barbados, and I don’t mind the family seeing her. And when I say family I mean my hometown; I know everyone is waiting to see her. You want to quickly switch to FaceTime and I can show you her, she is asleep” Mel cackled “all you bitches do is sleep, Chris was causing hell and you was both asleep” I hate Mel is laughing but it’s not funny “listen yeah, I’m going to get back to my usual self. I just need to rest my body; you try and give birth to a seven pound baby bitch!” I spat, answering the FaceTime “woo! We see she face, look at my sister. You still got the double chin girl” I gasped “say what!? Chris called me a kangaroo, I’ve been lazy sis not going to lie” angling the camera better “see, I can work it. I don’t know what to show, my chin or my forehead. I hate you; does it look like I gained weight?” Mel is annoying “she put weight on, won’t lie to you baby. But it’s baby weight, show me my baby now bitch. We sick of seeing you” rolling my eyes flicking the camera over “Fenty is asleep while her parents scream at each other” Mel cooed out “she is so beautiful!! Robyn she a little miss thing, she looks fed up. That bald up fist is telling me words!” I laughed at Mel, she is so stupid “it’s ok, auntie baby. I got you. I’m coming for you child!!” She is so loud for no reason “shut up, anyways I am going to have it out with Chris” walking off “keep me on the phone, for entertainment reasons” disconnecting the FaceTime, I think the fuck not.

With the monitor in hand, I figured I would go to the garage. Chris did mention it so I guess I go there first, I hope he is there. My intention is not what he thinks, he has to believe that. I am calm about this because I’m beyond the point of shouting about this, I see Drake has nothing to me so there is that. The elevator pinged and so did my phone, looking down at the message. It’s Drake, unlocking my phone and reading the message ‘You wanted this, here it is’ he added a link to sound cloud, he did it. That man is beyond in love with me and I honestly can’t cope with it, I did use him for that and yet again I am, but I do not care for him. Seeing Chris in the office from the glass door, he is huffing and puffing, like where the fuck did he get these boxes of shit from. I need to really get my ass in gear, I just don’t want Chris angry at me I didn’t mean to upset him when I was trying to help him because I know he is not lying about that shit, it did happen. I don’t even want to interrupt him, but he is scowling so much, let me suck it up and try and get Chris to see my side of what happened, I hope he can anyways because I didn’t mean it. Watching Chris from afar, watching him get annoyed at himself for no reason as he tried to make the spray can work and then accidentally sprayed the glass window, he doesn’t make things easy because what if I were to move. Mine and Chris’ eyes both met but he wasn’t angry, his face softened which made me feel a little better.

Pulling open the glass door “can we talk? Or do you not feel like it and you want more time alone?” I asked, I ask because I don’t want to just barge in and he’s not ready to talk “I hurt my hand” he said while looking down at his hand “you didn’t” I said walking into the office space “not on purpose, when I was going down the stairs my hand caught the side” he is such a liar “is there a hole in the wall in this house” lightly holding his hand, he punched the wall “it’s nothing, I mean it happened. I’m calm now” looking up at Chris “clearly, where did you do this though?” It’s a little sore but you can tell he punched the wall once “bathroom, it’s marble. I ain’t make no hole” frowning at him “that makes it better, your temper is bad Chris but we need to talk, if we can go out of this place and sit upstairs” Chris nodded his head, clearly that punch to the wall has calmed him but it’s still stupid “my hand really hurts though, like look at it” placing the baby monitor on the table before holding his hand in mine and then resting my free hand a top of his “does that hurt?” I asked, “feels sore” bringing his hand up to me and pressing a kiss to the back of his hand before placing it just on my cheek “I mean this could totally make it worse, do you feel like you broke it?” Chris shook his head “it’s ok, just sore” nodding my head “you make me sad Chris, come. Let’s go upstairs” I said to him, I think we need a good talk “I just want to sleep, can I go to sleep?” nodding my head “of course you can, do you want me to wake you before New Year?” he nodded his head “I just want a nap” he has hurt his hand and is now tired “nap on the couch, put something frozen on your knuckles. Does that sound good?” maybe the nap may be good for him.

I feel so out of my depth with this and I thought I would get some advice; sad part is I can’t ask his family. I can’t even ask someone that knows him because nobody does know him or know his moods, so this is new to me, this is new to them I guess even though they have spent all that time with him. It does kill me to think he has nobody that knows him, I can’t ring his mom and say what is his mood like, what do I do because the bitch doesn’t even know so I am ringing this UK help, I need some insight on what to do because I mean now he is like just calm as hell, I am going to try and hide my accent but you never know “uh hi” I feel all nervous now, I mean I hope they don’t want details “yeah so I am Noelle, and my partner has Bipolar and just recently we have moved in so like I don’t actually know what his moods are like. He has ADHD also with that. I found this number and it’s luckily twenty four hours but I just need help understanding him, like I don’t get it” if he starts asking for names and stuff I am going to have to stop this call “that is fine, we are here for all advice and help in this matter. I am Michael, have you both just recently got married then?” he asked “yeah, and moved in. Like I know he had this illness, I wasn’t blind with it but it’s understanding it” this guy has a nice Scottish accent “does he take medication at all? He does take it” pulling a face “uh yes, we recently just had a baby. Like she is a week old, he was so good during then, no issues at all but like I would say two days ago he just fell off” I need help with this because, how do I even deal with it or do I just leave him alone.

“So It’s tough to go through the mood swings of bipolar disorder. It is very complexed to even explain but depression plays a big factor in this because the person with this mental health struggle themselves to understand why the change, they can make it hard to do the things you want and need them to do. During manic periods, they may be reckless and volatile. The best way to avoid mood swings is to get treatment which he has done but you may not be able to totally prevent bouts of mania or depression. Even people who always take their medication and take care of their health can still have mood swings from time to time. That's why it's important to catch changes in their mood, energy levels, and sleeping patterns before they turn into something serious. Mood episodes in bipolar disorder often happen suddenly, for no particular reason. You said everything was and is fine but sometimes, you may notice that there are specific things that can trigger mania or depression, such as getting too little sleep, changes to their daily routine. Many people find they're more likely to become depressed or manic during stressful times at work or during holidays. Some people see seasonal patterns to their mood changes” this is a lot “wow” is all I said “it’s very complexed” he is not wrong “it’s daunting for you and you shouldn’t be hard on yourself for feeling like that, if you need further help I can assist if you feel threatened?” shaking my head “no, he said he is having nap” well that is what he said anyways “is he sleeping well at night? It’s important for them to sleep, clear thoughts, clear mind?” he said, “he hasn’t been sleeping, for the days he’s been like that at all, why is it important for sleep?” I questioned “the less they sleep they are going through a mood change, usually mania. The more they sleep, it’s more depression phase. They need to have stability in their sleep, get the hours because their mind is working overtime, it’s hard for them to be ok in a room full of people that don’t think like them. But they do battle themselves more then you would know” that really made me sad.

I sighed out heavily “how can I help? Like in general anyways, I want to learn about it? We just moved here too” I thought I would add that “Caring for someone with bipolar disorder can be extremely hard, whether you’re a partner, parent, child, or friend of someone who has this condition. It’s stressful for everyone it touches. It’s tough to strike a balance. You want to be supportive and empathetic because you know the person with bipolar disorder isn’t to blame for their illness. But their behaviour may affect you, and you have to take care of yourself and your needs, not just theirs” flicking the tear that fell, this makes me emotional “so I can give you some tips which you are doing now which is learn. The more you know, the better. Listen. Pay attention to what your loved one has to say. Don't assume that you know what they are going through. Don’t dismiss all of their emotions and feelings as signs of their illness. Someone with bipolar disorder may still have valid points. Encourage them to stick with treatment. Your love one needs to take their bipolar medication and get regular check-ups or counselling. Notice their symptoms. They may not be able to see it as clearly as you do when their bipolar symptoms are active. Or they may deny it. When you see the warning signs of mania or depression, you can try to make sure they get help. Do things together. People who are depressed often pull away from others. So encourage your loved one to get out and do things they enjoy. Ask him to join you for a walk or a dinner out. If he says no, let it go. Ask again a few days later.”

“Express your own concerns. Since your loved one's behaviour can have a huge effect on you, it’s OK to discuss. Don’t blame the other person or list all of their mistakes. Instead, focus on how his actions make you feel and how they affect you. The most important thing is to take care of yourself. As intense as your loved one’s needs may be, you count, too. It’s important for you to stay healthy emotionally and physically Noelle” I am trying to take all this in but I can kind of understand “what’s up?” I jumped at Chris’ voice, turning around “thank you for that, I have got what I wanted” disconnecting the call “did you have a nap?” he shook his head, staring at Chris in sadness I just feel sad and it’s not that I hate what I have got myself into but this, what he has. It’s so horrible, and the fact I couldn’t call on his loved ones to help, I am so angry. I am angry at his mother, his father. They have failed him and me, I am having to do this now at his age because nobody cared, I am cleaning her mess “before it’s a New Year, can we talk baby?” he seems ever so calm now “I’m sorry” nodding my head smiling “we can talk, come” grabbing his hand as I walked with him, I don’t know why but a sob left my lips, my heart is crying “why are you crying?” Chris asked “just happy tears” I lied, I don’t want to go into it.

[itsafanficthing]

The Paper Boy - Chapter Six

Un-Beta'd, spell-checked (which doesn't particularly like the Scottish accent) and ready for reading. Enjoy! (also your comments inspire me to write more, so thank you for that!)

A03 is here

Jamie shifted uncomfortably next to Claire. He was bound to run into Laoghaire eventually. The school wasn’t that big.

“Hi Jamie,” Laoghaire greeted airily. She’d tucked up her skirt to a length Jamie was sure was going to get her in trouble. Her tie was loose around her neck and her shirt- she’d definitely filled out over the summer and Jamie could see some of the buttons on her blouse being held together by a breath.

“Alright, Laoghaire, Megan, Liz.” Jamie nodded at the three girls. He saw Laoghaire’s friends look over at Claire with curiosity.

“How’s yer first day of school going, Claire?” Laoghaire asked, but Jamie noticed that she was still looking at him as the words left her mouth.

“Very well, thank you Laoghaire. Jamie’s been a big help.”

“Aye, told ye he was a gentleman, did I not?”

“You did.”

Jamie smiled at Claire. It was only brief but Jamie saw Claire’s eyebrow twitch as she spoke to Laoghaire. It could have been nothing. Just a muscle moving in her forehead as she spoke but Jamie had a very clear memory of his own mother’s eyebrows doing the exact same thing when she was annoyed with his father. Jenny told Jamie that he did the same twitch when he wanted to thump her and that’s when she knew to get away from him when he was a bairn.

Curious that he should see it on Claire now but perhaps he was reading into things and it was just a perfectly natural facial movement. Still Jamie couldn’t get the image of his mothers eyes narrowing the exact same way.

“Jamie?” Laoghaire repeated his name impatiently and he looked back up at her.

“Sorry, what?”

“I was askin’ if ye are goin’ to eat lunch in the usual spot,” Laoghaire repeated what Jamie had missed when he was stuck in his thoughts of his mother.

“I hadn’t thought about it. Probably,” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“I might stop by on the way to dance- If I have time.”

“Sure,” Jamie shrugged again, he didn’t care. Laoghaire could have lunch wherever she liked.

“Dance?” Claire asked curiously. “You have dance here?”

Megan and Liz both snorted in laughter as Claire spoke and Jamie frowned at them as Laoghaire nudged them with an elbow while smiling.

“Aye, we have tryouts first day of school. There’s competitions throughout the summer. Do ye dance, Claire?” Laoghaire explained and it was then that Jamie realised what had made Liz and Megan laugh as Laoghaire exaggerated the word “dance”.

“Oh, no, not at all. I’m far too clumsy.” Claire immediately started blushing and shifted (unconsciously) closer to Jamie.

Laoghaire saw the shift that brought Claire closer to Jamie and she grimaced.

“Ye should come and have a try. Ye dinna need to have experience.”

“I don’t think so, but thank you for the invitation,” Claire answered politely.

“Nay bother.” Laoghaire was watching Claire carefully now and Jamie couldn’t help but feel like there was something sinister there. He cleared his throat as the bell rang.

“Weel, I suppose I’ll see ye at lunch, Jamie.” Laoghaire’s tone immediately changed as Jamie stood up from the bench, pulling Claire up with him. He grunted in response, turning his back on the gaggle of girls to fetch his things from his bag. “It’s a date, then,” Laoghaire continued, taking his reply as acceptance.

Jamie didn’t turn back around until he was sure that Laoghaire and her friends were gone. Claire was silent beside him as she took out her own books.

Jamie wasn’t sure what it was he was feeling, he just knew that he didn’t like the way that Laoghaire was looking at Claire. It was brief and he could be reading into things, but something just didn’t feel right. He wasn’t sure that Claire had picked up on it and he wasn’t about to tell her about what he was thinking.

He felt protective over Claire. She was new to the school, to the town, to Scotland and the last thing she needed was a silly school girl with a chip on her shoulder. Jamie would need to say something to Laoghaire about how she acted around him and Claire.

Him and Claire. Not that they were a “thing”. But they were friends and Jamie always stood up for his friends. He would do the same for Rupert. Or at least - that’s what he told himself.

Jamie let Claire take the lead into the classroom. She seemed unsure of where she should sit and looked back at him for help. Jamie smiled at her and swept his arm over the many empty desks in a “wherever you like” action and she laughed before rolling her eyes at him and plonking herself down at the set of desks directly in the middle of the room. Not the seat that Jamie would have chosen, but he sat next to her anyway. He would have sat next to her if she had chosen the teachers desk if he was honest.

“I wasn’t sure if you had a specific spot you liked to sit,” Claire explained as the rest of the class started to file in.

“Aye, next to you,” Jamie said before his brain caught up with him and he spluttered as Claire’s eyebrows rose into her hairline. “I mean, that I, I mean, I said I would’na leave ye, if I could help it. Just keepin’ my promise, to ye. That’s what I meant.”

Claire hummed as she grinned at him- there was a faint blush on her cheeks and Jamie was sure that his were bright red. Thankfully Mr Sandringham walked in at that moment and started the class and Jamie didn’t have another chance to stick his foot in his mouth.

—

It was only a single period class, mostly introductions to the new year and what they were going to be learning over the coming term. Claire took studicious notes while Jamie doodled in the margins of his page. He wasn’t sure what Claire was writing about- Sandringham wasn’t really saying anything of substance.

Mr Sandringham was an older teacher, but new to the school. He’d arrived in the last term of Jamie’s previous year when Miss Wellington had taken maternity leave. The town gossips had had a field day with that one. The supposedly single math teacher with a sudden pregnancy. Accusations were flying left, right and centre of who could possibly be the father. Miss Wellington had taken a leave of absence before anyone could find the answer and her small cottage had been on the market the week after she’d gone.

Jamie was absentmindedly fiddling with his pen, thinking about the circumstances of Mr Sandringham coming to the school, wondering if he thought that it would be a temporary assignment, only to then move permanently into the town, when Claire knocked his elbow and looked pointedly at her page.

Jame sat up quickly sat up straighter and read the note in the top right corner.

“Why aren’t you taking any notes?”

Jamie grinned as he pulled her book toward him and scrawled a response.

“What notes are there to take?”

Pushing the book back to his desk-mate, he stifled a laugh as she rolled her eyes when she read his reply.

“He’s giving us the course outline.” - the paper pushed back over to his side of the desk as her fingers tapped impatiently on the desk.

“Then I suppose I’ll take some notes when we’re learning something.”

He heard Claire sniff as she read as he wrote his response.

Sandringham turned towards the whiteboard and started to write dates of upcoming exams (not due for at least two months). Claire feverishly grabbed back her book and copied down everything that he wrote.

Jamie stifled another laugh before looking back at his book and also copying the dates.

—

The bell rang and Claire quickly packed up her desk.

“Ye like to take a lot of notes then?” Jamie asked as led her toward her next class.

“I don’t like missing details or not knowing things,” Claire answered quickly.

“Aye, so ye’ve said.”

“When?”

“Last week. When ye were worried about school. Ye said that ye dinna like to be behind.”

“Oh,” Claire breathed, “well, yes. I like to be on top of things.”

“Did ye learn anythin’ from yer obsessive note taking?” Jamie asked as they arrived outside her next classroom.

“I learned when our exams are and what the syllabus is going to include,” she answered as she removed her backpack and started to get out her books.

“Aye, so did I, but I still have an empty book,” Jamie laughed- laughing harder as her eyebrows narrowed at him.

“Well,” Claire huffed with annoyance, “what are you going to do when you forget and need to know what we’re studying next or when an exam is?”

“I’ll ask ye, Sassenach,” Jamie smirked at her. He could see the annoyance building behind her eyes before it broke and she laughed at him.

“Good luck with that. I’m not sharing my notes with you for anything.”

“Ye cut me!” Jamie exclaimed dramatically clutching his heart. “Here I thought that we were friends.”

“Hmm, friends.” Claire arched a single eyebrow at him and Jamie couldn’t help but smile at her.

“Truly, though, I appreciate yer work ethic. I think ye’ll be a good influence on me,” Jamie said seriously. “At least that’s what my Da and Jen will say if I start taking notes the way ye do.”

“He thinks I’ll rub off on you?” Claire asked as she grinned at him and Jamie tried to ignore the fact that her saying “rub off” made his body have a physical reaction to her.

“Somethin’ like that,” he grunted as he shifted away from her.

“Who’re ye rubbing off on?” The loud voice of Gellis sounded from behind Jamie as she threw her bag next to Claire’s.

“No one,” Jamie answered quickly as Claire looked between them with a sort of curious amusement. “And this is where I leave ye, in the safe hands of Gellis for Biology.”

“What?” The amusement immediately fell from Claire’s face and Jamie saw her grip her textbook a little tighter.

“Aye, I have Physics now. But ye’ll be with Gellis, so not totally alone,” he explained as he adjusted his bag straps.

“You’re not in Biology?” Claire repeated faintly.

“Not smart enough,” Geillis inputted helpfully as Jamie made a face at her.

“Because Physics is so easy.”

“Shoo,” Geillis laughed turning away from him. “Leave us to learn.”

“Ye’ll be fine, Claire. I’ll be right here waiting for ye when the bell rings again.” Jamie almost reached out to her- nearly squeezed her hand in comfort or brushed the curl off her cheek, but he could feel Geillis studying him so he didn’t dare.

“Mr Fraser.” The voice if Mrs Loboscar sounded from behind him. “I dinnae remember seein’ yer name on ma roll call.”

“Aye, Miss. I’ll be on my way.” Jamie nodded once more to Claire before he was off and running to his class.

—

Jamie arrived to his class, panting and throwing his bag on the racks. It was only a single period, then he would run back to Claire to make sure she made it through biology. At least she had Gellis in the class with her. She had a double of history that afternoon and Jamie couldn’t think of any of his friends that were in that class. Not close friends anyway. He was sure that Rachel and Denzel Hunter were in it, but he didn’t know them well. There was Frank Randall, of course, but again, Jamie didn’t really know much about the lad.

Jamie tried to shake the worry from his mind as Mr MacWeather started to speak to the class about the coming term. Claire would be fine. It wasn’t like she’d never been to school before.

—

Mr MacWeather didn’t believe in taking things easy. He didn’t believe in a slow warm up and introduction into the year.

“Physics.” He said before he repeated the word several times. “Let’s get to it.” And then his back was turned to the class and he was sprouting off information and writing things on the whiteboard and Jamie was barely keeping up.

As soon as the bell rang for lunch, Jamie was up and out of his seat, grabbing his bag and tearing across the grounds back to where he had left Claire.

He arrived just as Claire was packing her bag. She was listening to something Geillis was saying and laughing as Geillis shook her head. Jamie tried to stand casually, dropping his bag at his feet, as if he hadn’t just sprinted across half the school to wait for her. He saw the moment that she noticed him and her shoulders seemed to relax slightly as her face broke into a wider smile. Jamie also saw Geillis look quickly between them before grinning smugly, but he chose to ignore that.

“Hi,” Claire said somewhat breathlessly as she approached and Jamie picked up his bag again.

“How did it go?” He asked as Geillis fell into step with them.

“Fine,” Geillis answered before Claire had the chance.

“How was physics?” Claire asked quietly.

“Physiciky,” Jamie answered with a shrug. “I took notes, ye’ll be proud of me.”

Claire snorted with laughter as they saw Mary, Rupert and Angus waving at them over.

“Did ye bring lunch?” Jamie asked, sensing a fresh wave of nerves run through Claire.

“Yes, I just erm…”

“Go ahead, Geillis. We’ll be there in a sec.” Jamie stopped as Geillis waved her hand in acknowledgement before yelling something absurd to Angus.

“Are ye alright?” Jamie asked quietly, stooping slightly to meet her eyes.

“I’m fine. I’m just… I just got very anxious all of a sudden. I’m not normally an anxious person,” Claire said quickly.

“It’s the first day of school, makin’ new friends and all new lessons. It would be overwhelmin’ for anyone. It’s no’ so strange to be a bit worried.”

“I know. I know.” Claire nodded. He could see her fingers wringing together as her gaze shifted around the quad quickly. “It’s just that. It’s my first day of my last year of high school and you just… you have in your mind how it’s going to go…”

“Is it no’ goin’ how ye thought?” Jamie asked. He’d tried to make it as easy as possible on her. He couldn’t help that they had different classes. “Did something happen’ in Bio?”

“No, not at all. It’s fine. I’m fine. Truly. I’m alright.”

Claire suddenly stood up straighter, squared her shoulders and strode away from Jamie, leaving him confused. He watched her walk toward his group of friends, trying to figure out what could have suddenly upset her, only for her to shake it off so quickly. Jamie didn’t understand what was going on, but as Rupert called out his name Jamie decided that it was a worry for another day.

—

True to her word, Laoghaire and her friends stopped by Jamie on their way to dance auditions (was her skirt shorter?) to say hello- that was all they really said.

Laoghaire said hello. Claire wished her good luck. Laoghaire smiled at her. Megan looked at Rupert. Liz looked at Jamie and Claire. And then they were gone. It didn’t really seem worth the trouble, auditions were over the other side of the school.

—

“What class do you have after lunch?” Claire asked as she tossed her rubbish in the nearby bin.

“PE,” Jamie answered through a mouthful of his lunch. “What about you?” He asked after swallowing several times (though he already knew the answer).

“History,” Claire seemed to huff. Dare he hope that she was disappointed that they didn’t have another class together? “I thought that they made you stop doing PE after ninth year.”

“Aye, this is Advanced Physical Education.” Jamie wiped the crumbs from his mouth as Angus picked up his soccer ball. “It’s more ‘an just runnin’ laps- It’s sports physiology.”

“Isn’t that biology?” Claire asked as Jamie stood up from the grass and brushed himself off.

“Biology is plants and things. This is about the human body and movement. Sporting injuries, cardio, muscular training- stuff like that,” Jamie said as Angus and Ruper spread out on the field to start kicking the call.

“Do you still run laps?” Claire asked as she picked some grass absentmindedly.

“Aye, more often than no’, we do,” Jamie grinned before he ran out into the field with his friends.

—

A few other lads came out onto the field to kick the ball with them and soon they had an impromptu game of football. Jamie looked back to Claire constantly and was pleased to see her chatting with Geillis and Mary. Louise de La Tour had joined the trio after a while and had engaged Claire in a conversation that seemed to centre around the boys on the field. Jamie didn’t know Louise that well, only that she had drama with Geillis and Mary.

Claire was looking over at Jamie and smiling shyly at him. He waved in acknowledgement before he tore after the ball, stealing it from Angus and tripping Adam McLean in the process. Jamie ran down the field (jogged was more accurate. Jamie was very fit but this was just a fun scrimmage) and quickly scored against the other team. Rupert thumped him on the back, breathing heavily as Angus swore loudly at Adam for getting in his way.

Jamie jogged off the field to wear the girls were sitting.

“Show off.” Geillis was grinning as she glanced up at him from her phone.

“Canna help it that Adam was’na looking where he was goin’,” Jamie grinned as he dug through his bag looking for his water bottle.

“You’re very quick,” Claire commented as Jamie took a long drink.

“Jamie here is on the track, rugby, football and swim team. There is’nae much he canna do,” Geillis answered before Jamie could reply.

“So I’ve heard,” Claire said quietly and Jamie looked at her curiously. They’d spoke about the sports Jamie was in, he was sure that they had, still he was curious to know what she had heard about him.

“Jamie!” Ruperts voice called from across the field and Jamie pushed the second puzzling thing about Claire Beauchamp of that day to the back of his mind as he ran back into the field.

—

They didn’t have much longer to play. The bell was about to ring, Jamie knew it- but he also couldn’t help it. He just wanted to impress Claire. Show that he could score another goal, or at least assist on one.

The ball was high in the air, right in front of the goals. He could head it in. Impressive alright- he’d have to jump for it. Unfortunately for Jamie, Simon Gibbons had the except idea, except to defend the ball from the goals.

Jamie jumped. Simon jumped. Jamie hit the ball. It soared into the goal. Rupert cheered. Simon had jumped late. Jamie was landing. Simon was arching forward. Simons forehead connected with Jamie’s right eye, throwing him off balance. Jamie landed on his back- hard- and the air was forced from his lungs in a powerful whoosh. Jamie was winded and coughed, trying to catch his breath.

He might have had a rock solid head, burn holy cow, that had hurt. Simon has stumbled with the collision but Jamie could see that he was still standing. Jamie rolled onto his side, trying to catch his breath and feeling a pulsing ache radiating from above his eyebrow.

“Ouch,” he breathed as he tried to sit up, before strong bony fingers were forcing him back to lying down.

“Stay down,” the voice of Claire Beauchamp commanded. “You might be concussed.”

“Where’d ye come from?” Jamie asked stupidly, his eyes blinking from the blinding of the midday sun above them, before it was blocked out by the face of Claire. She looked like an angel, or at least what Jamie assumed angels looked like. The sun was casting a halo around her wild curls. Although, Jamie assumed that angels looked far less concerned in heaven, and Claire’s forehead was wrinkled as she studied him.

“I ran over when you both cracked skulls. I swear the sound echoed around the school. Are you alright?” Claire was checking his pulse, though Jamie had no idea why. One of her hands was on his cheek and she was directing his eyes to look at her own.

Whisky. She had whisky eyes. Caramel but lighter. And swimming with life. Like molten lava, swirling depths that someone (Jamie) could get lost in.

“I’m fine, Sassenach. I’ve had worse. Can I sit up?”

Claire reluctantly sat back and let Jamie sit up slowly. The initial pain was subsiding, all that was left was a throbbing where he was sure a bump was forming.

“Are you okay?” The concern in Claire’s voice was evident and he hoped that none of the lads surrounding them would pick up on it.

“Aye- Just a bump. Is Simon alright?” Jamie asked, looking around.

“Aye Jamie, I’mnae hurt, ye went down like a sack o’ tatties though,” Simon replied from beside him.

“Yer head’s like a pound o’ rocks, no surprise I went down. Can ye no’ aim for the ball next time?” Jamie laughed as he stood up, Claire’s hawk eyes watching him carefully.

“Yer head’s sae round, ye cannae blame me for the mix up.”

“'Haud yer wheesht,” Jamie shook his head at Simon as the bell rang and the crowd that had surrounded Jamie when he fell started to disperse.

“I have no idea what both of you just said to each other,” Claire said as they left the field together to collect their bags.

“Och, it was nothin’, just banter.”

“It was like you were speaking another language,” Claire grinned as she swung her bag over her shoulders.

“Aye- Scottish. Ye’ll have to get used to it around here, given yer proximity to the Scottish… in Scotland.”

--

Jamie dropped Claire to her history class, (he could see her getting more and more nervous as they approached) before he left for his double PE Class.

He’d located the Hunter Twins and introduced Claire to them before he’d left, so hopefully they would help her out and introduce her to a few more students.

Mr Langford, similar to the other teachers, had written the course outline on the whiteboard and was waiting for his students to take their seats.

The first of the double period was spent outlining the coming term (sports injuries) as well as deciding on the sport they would play for the physical aspect of their class (football). As always, their double period would be split between theoretical and physical. The first period being the theoretical. Jamie felt on edge, maybe it was getting hit in the head or maybe it was being away from Claire but as soon as the bell rang for the last period of the day, Jamie was up and out of his chair ready to let loose on the field.

He chuckled to himself as Mr Langford had them run two laps of the oval as a warm up- Claire’s voice echoed in his head about PE being just about running laps. Jamie still had more nervous energy bubbling in his system, the warm-up hardly making a dent in his pent up adrenaline and so when they actually started some training drills, Jamie threw his all into it.

He was lucky. He certainly had good genes that helped him with a lot of his sport, but working on a farm and having a paper route afforded Jamie the ability to keep in extremely good shape. Many of the other students in the class couldn’t keep up with him, except for one lad who had clearly been training over the summer - Tom Christie.

Jamie and Tom had grown up together and there was a sort of friendly rivalry between them. Both very intelligent and also skilled sportsmen, they should have been best friends, the only major difference between them came down to money. Jamie’s family weren’t exactly rolling around in wealth, but they were comfortable. Sure there had been occasions where Jamie had had a smaller birthday or Christmas than he would have liked, but he was never wanting for anything.

Tom however, came from extreme wealth. Jamie was sure that he had never “wanted” for anything in his life, though he seemed to “want” everything. He always came to school with the newest, most expensive shoes that one could buy. He spent his weekends either at his family’s elite horse riding club, or flaunting his exorbitant wealth. Jamie was sure that Tom wasn’t aware that he had a lot of money. One of the perks of growing up around a lot of money was that people that did never really recognised that they had it. Things that Tom took for granted (a lunch from the school canteen, new clothes) Jamie saved and scrounged to have (home packed lunches of leftovers from the night before and sometimes his father’s hand-me-downs). Where Tom trained in his family’s private gym and rode only the most expensive pure-bred horses from a championship race winner, Jamie hauled bales of hay on the farm and jumped on the back of demon horses to try and train them. Both were effective methods of getting fit and training, there was no question, however arguably one was significantly better than the other.

Jamie didn’t begrudge Tom for having money, that was none of Jamie’s business, it was just that Tom was so obtusely unaware of how privileged he was. They got along fine, but Jamie knew that they would never be friends. They were friendly enough with each other, but no, they would never be friends.

It was because they were so evenly matched that Mr Langford always put them on opposing teams. Jamie was competitive- he liked to win, but there was something so satisfying in winning against Tom. For all of Tom’s money, he couldn’t buy Jamie’s talent. Yes, Tom was quick on the field, and he could maneuver the ball without much trouble but Tom had really only been intensely training for the past few years. Jamie had been in training since he could walk and hold a pitchfork. There was something to be said about someone's agility being built over the fear of being kicked by a horse rather than strategically jumping over cones.

Mr Langford blew the whistle and Angus kicked the ball backward to Jamie who tore down the field before passing it back to Angus. Tom stood back at centre staring dumbly at the place Jamie had been a moment ago before he shook his head and ran after the ball.

--

Jamie had been running constantly for the past 20 minutes, trying to pass the ball to as many of his players as possible. The other issue with Tom, that Jamie had studied over the years, was that he liked to do things himself- often to his own detriment. Tom assumed that Jamie was the same way and continually came at him for attack, only to be caught off guard when Jamie would pass the ball to one of his team mates. It didn’t always work out in his favour- the ball would be stolen by the other team and Jamie would have to work hard to get possession of the ball back to his team, but there was no denying that Jamie’s team had dominated Tom’s.

Jamie could see the frustration rising in Tom as Angus stole the ball, passed it to Phillip Wylie, who missed it entirely, to then be picked up by Jamie and passed back to Phillip. No one expected Phillip to score a goal, but with Jamie and Angus’s help, he did and Phillip nearly collapsed with relief. Mr Langford called the game to a halt and gathered his students.

“Alright. Ye certainly ken how to play well enough. I’m seein’ a lot of good things oot there, but ye are’na playin’ as a team.” Mr Langford looked directly at Tom as he spoke and Jamie couldn’t help but smirk as Angus nudged him in his ribs. “Right, we’re gonna finish off the day with some drills. Jamie, be a lad and run these cones out for me.”

--

After a painful session of drills (of which the competition between Tom and Jamie seemed to intensify) Jamie was well and truly pooped. He collected the cones and balls for Mr Langford with Rupert and Angus in tow, dumping the gear in the equipment sheds as the bell rang, signalling the end of their first day.

Jamie picked up his school bag and swung it onto his back as Rupert and Angus gave a play by play of the competition between Jamie and Tom.

“And then when ye overtook him at the final cones, I thought he was goin’ tae explode. Ye should’ha seen the face he gave ye,” Angus laughed loudly.

“I’m goin’ tae ask tae be on yer team next time we play. Tom does’na pass the ball tae anyone, it’s infuriatin’. Ye ken I would’ha scored if he passed it to me before Langford blew the whistle,” Rupert complained.

“Competition is certainly on between the two of ye- I thought it might’a died down after last year,” Angus hummed in contemplation as the trio walked together.

“‘Cause I’m so much older and wiser?” Jamie laughed as they rounded the corner.

“Yer aff yer heid if ye think that they will’na try tae kill each other in e’ery class,” Rupert snorted as he shook his head.

“Ah umnae tryin’ to kill the lad, truly. It’s just pure dead brillian’ seein’ him lose at somethin’ he thinks he ought tae win,” Jamie replied, his voice softening at the end as he saw Claire walking toward him.

“Och, it’s his girlfrien’, best leave him be,” Rupert commented seeing the reason for Jamie’s sudden change in tone.

“She is’na my girlfriend,” Jamie bit back, smacking Rupert over the back of the head as Angus started to sing ‘Claire and Jamie, Sitting in a Tree’. “Haud yer wheesht!” Jamie yelled as Angus ducked out of the way of Jamie’s fists, cackling with laughter with Rupert as they left him alone to face Claire.

“Hi,” Claire greeted happily as Jamie saw both Rupert and Angus make kissing faces at him behind Claire’s back.

“How was history?” Jamie asked as they fell into stride with each other and out of the school gates.

“Rachel and Denzel were nice, they sat with each other, which was fine. I sat next to a girl, Emma I think her name was. She didn’t say much. Mr Randall was the teacher again, he recognised me from English, but didn’t make me introduce myself to the class, which was good. You’re right, I didn’t really have anything to be nervous about. You know when you were a kid and they made you introduce yourself to the class and it would be like, say your name and something about yourself starting with the first letter of your name. I always hated that game. Thank goodness we’ve moved on from doing things like that. Anyway, I also met Frank Randall, the guy you told me about, his Dad is Mr Randall. Imagine having your father as your teacher. I can’t imagine anything worse.” Claire spoke quickly and happily.

Jamie relaxed. When they had hung out (however briefly it was) over the summer, Jamie had noticed that when Claire was particularly excited over something she spoke rapidly. It brought Jamie a sense of comfort that her first day at a new school hadn’t been a total train wreck.

“I could see you in your PE class out of the windows,” she continued on, not waiting for Jamie’s acknowledgement. “You did laps,” she said smugly.

“Aye, for warm up.” Jamie grinned.

“You’re very fast out there. I saw you running. Of course I was a fair way away, but it looked fast. Who was the blonde guy that was trailing you?”

“The blonde guy?” Jamie repeated feeling his heart thump heavily in his chest, though he wasn’t sure why. “Oh, that’s Tom.”

“He was right on your heels the whole time. Even in some of the… you know the things you were doing at the end. The back and forth thing,” Claire said using her hands to try and illustrate her point.

“The drills? Aye, we keep on top of each other most of the time.”

“Are you friends? Do you train together?”

Jamie let out a chuckle as he shook his head. “No, I would’na say that we were particularly close. There’s always been a bit of competition between us. We just like to get the best of one another as much as we can.”

“Oh,” Claire hummed, “why?”

Jamie paused as he thought it over. It was just what they had always done, for as long as he could remember. “I dinnae ken to be honest wi’ ye,” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “We just always have.”

“Is there a definitive winner?”

“No’ always. I’m a faster runner than Tom, but he’s got better footwork for football. He just needs to learn to share the ball. We’re pretty evenly matched in the pool, I think. It’s been a while since we’ve raced,” Jamie shrugged trying to think if there was something that truly separated them in their skills.

“Do you get along at all?” Claire asked curiously.

“Och aye, we’re fine. It’s all in good sport,” Jamie smiled over at her. “It’s just something we’ve always done since we were wee bairns.”

“It sounds exhausting.”

“It’s truly all in good fun, we all have our strengths and weaknesses.”

“What’s yours then?” Claire asked as she stopped and made Jamie face her.

“What’s my weakness?” Jamie clarified as Claire nodded. “You” he nearly answered before he stopped himself. “If I told ye that lass, I’d have to kill ye.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Claire laughed before she started walking again.

—

“So the first day of school was’na too bad then?” Jamie asked as they approached her front gate.

“Not nearly as terrifying as I thought it would be. I think I can thank my guide for that,” Claire answered as she made her way to her front door.

“Yer welcome, Sassenach. Happy to be at yer service.”

“My service, hey? Could you come in and make me some dinner while I relax in a bath?” Claire joked as she unlocked the front door.

Jamie tried to ignore the immediate visual that came to his mind of Claire slippery and covered in bubbles as she had a bath and he cleared his throat to try and stop the inevitable break that would come when he tried to use his voice to reply.

“Unfortunately this is where my services stop. I have to get home and finish my chores.”

“Didn’t you have chores this morning?” Claire asked in surprise.

“Aye, that’s the joy of livin’ on a farm. The work ne’er stops. I’ll be here tomorrow mornin’ same time to pick ye up,” Jamie said as he picked up his bike from where he had parked it that morning.

“Oh, okay then. I will see you tomorrow.” Claire sounded slightly disappointed and Jamie couldn’t help the smile that came to his face.

“Bye Claire.” Jamie wheeled his bike back out of the front gate and started pedaling away, sure that he had heard a faint “bye Jamie” in return from Claire.