#oh also some girls slapped an open thing of apple sauce off their table and onto me during science

[13uswntimagines]

Chanukah party (USWNT x Baby!Reader)

This isn’t a request but @literaryhedgehog​ and I thought it would be fun. The basic premise is that reader is at camp during Chanukah, and the team feels bad (especially Lindsey) so they throw her a party. (thank you @notmia101​ for betaing this for us). 

You smiled at Alyssa as she described her winter plans after training camp. How she was going to visit her sister and her family for Christmas. How they were hoping for snow and how they were going to kill an innocent tree and desecrate its body with lights for their amusement. Her words, not yours. It was a game she and the other girls played every year, trying to make their Christmas plans sound as horror-movie-ish as possible. It was a way of trying to make fun of themselves so you could share the amusement and join in laughing at them. 

But despite their efforts, a little piece of you always felt left out because you couldn’t (wouldn’t?) participate. See, you were one of the few who didn’t celebrate Christmas. You were proud of your Jewish heritage, even if your family wasn’t the most ~religious~. But you were proud of the culture you had been raised in. You held its traditions very near to your heart and weren’t AT ALL bitter that the rest of the team had time designated to visit their family during their winter holidays while you still had training camp through the third week of December.  

You were kinda zoning out because you could only take so much of their cookie baking, their stalkerish man that watched kids while they slept, and their hiding of a stupid stuffed toy you were sure would give you nightmares (who the fuck thought having an ‘elf’ stalk your family all month was cute?!?!? Capitalism was a weird man). (Though you may or may not have paid attention to Lindsey’s plan to dress Ferguson like a little elf…) 

“What about you kid?” Tobin asked, nudging you out of your daydream. 

“What?” You shook your head, making everyone around you laugh. 

“Do you have plans for the holidays?” Lindsey repeated, her smile showing off her dimples. 

“Oh, um. Chanukah started a few days ago. It’s cool, they have an app with a menorah and everything. My family has been face timing me most days, but it will be over before training ends.” You shrugged, hoping they couldn’t see how much being away from your family during this time of year sucked (though you were glad to be included on the camp roster). 

Most of the veteran's jaws dropped, how had they not known that you were missing something so important to you? How had US Soccer overlooked a holiday (and inadvertently given you an ultimatum- celebrate or make the national team). 

“Then why did they schedule training camp this week?” Tobin mumbled. Again you shrugged. 

“There’s 23 of you and only one of me… it’s really not that big of a deal,” you smiled briefly and gave the same speech you had given since middle school, “It’s not like the ‘Jewish Christmas’ even though it happens around the same time some years, my family doesn’t even exchange presents, so I’m really just missing the party they’re throwing on the 18th.” 

“That still isn’t fair though. I mean, we get Christmas off automatically, even if we don’t celebrate it!” Christen huffed, throwing her hands up. 

“I mean, this isn’t like a new thing. We’re always at camp during this time. And next year the holiday starts in November, so it’s not something that can consistently be scheduled around. I guess it’s just a sacrifice I have to make to be the best right?” You said earnestly, shaking your head. You knew all of the arguments, you had heard them for all of your life. 

“But-“ Emily started to protest, but before she could get the words out you cut her off. “Don’t make a big deal guys, it’s fine. Really,” 

The team stared at you for a few seconds, several women opening and closing their mouths several times. You shifted uncomfortably under their gaze, breathing a sigh of relief when your phone rang, glad to have an excuse to get out of this situation. 

“Ok so we’re totally going to make a big deal out of this,” Lindsey said turning back around to face the team the second you were out the door. 

“I’m guessing you have a plan to woo your girl?” Emily smirked, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“It’s not to. No. We are doing this as a team to be supportive of our teammate who is part of a traditionally marginalized culture that we need to be more supportive of,” Lindsey grumbled sternly, smiling when Christen nodded in return. “I’m googling “Chanukah for Dummies” right now. 

They were going to make this camp different from the others (and if she got to impress you that was just a bonus). 

…..

“Umm, why does it smell like something is burning?” Becky asked, walking through the hotel corridor towards the dining room. 

“Because Latkes are apparently more difficult to make than I expected,” Kelley said, tossing what looked like a stack of burned hockey pucks into the trash. “I didn’t realize the whole room was going to smell like fried food- do you think they’re going to fine me when we check out?”

“If they fine you, they better fine Em too. The stench from such a little jar is kind of amazing,” Lindsey huffed. 

“What did she do, get her sardines or something?” Becky asked, shaking her head, remembering the smell that she couldn’t quite place. 

“No. Something called ‘Gefilte fish’”. 

“But isn’t that usually for Passover?” Kelley asked, looking up from where she was trying to scrape burned potatoes off her pan.

“They said it was traditional, isn’t that what we’re going for?” Emily huffed, pouting. Lindsey rolled her eyes at her best friend. 

“I’ve got music!” Chrystal called, walking through the door in a star-patterned sweater. “It turns out there are not a whole lot of Chanukah songs. There’s a Spotify playlist that’s only 3 hours long, or so, so I supplemented it with a lot of Leonard Cohen and Paul Simon.”

“And I brought the sour cream and applesauce as requested!” Sam called, walking in after her, “also some apple juice and honey bourbon. I know apples and honey are a thing for Rosh Hashana, so I thought maybe we could make some cocktails?”

“I won’t tell coach if you don’t,” Kelley said taking the bottle and pouring herself a shot. “Someone else needs to take over the latke making. My attempts have all either looked like lefse, hashbrowns or just burned.”

“Lefse?”

“I had an ex-girlfriend from Minnesota. It was a potato tortilla thing her family sent her at thanksgiving. The point here is that someone else needs to cook or we are just going to be eating sour cream and applesauce on their own.”

“We could make french fries?” Rose suggested tentatively. 

“With bacon and cheese! Those are the best,” Emily exclaimed, only to have Lindsey (gently) slap the back of her head. 

“No, Sonnett. She can’t have bacon and I don’t think she’s allowed to have cheese and meat on the same plate…” 

“I think if we just batter potato pieces in egg and flour and fry them it would taste nice with the apple sauce and sour cream. And we’ve made french fries before so it won’t be so much of a… learning curve. Though you did a great try, Kelley!” Rose said, patting Kelley’s arm.

“You guys are useless. Did you even look at a recipe?” Megan shook her head. 

“If you think it’s so easy you try it.” Kelley scoffed. Megan raised her eyebrow at the woman, stealing the spatula from the defender's hand. 

“Tasty made here we come,” 

*****

“Happy Chanukah!” came from all around as you walked in. Lindsey was very proud. Not only had she gotten the team on track and ensured that they had all of the stuff google said would make the perfect Chanukah celebration; she had also kept you off their trail until this moment. The shock on your face made all the work on their day off entirely worth it. 

The room was decorated in tinsel with a shiny plastic menorah in the center of the table. Several people were wearing ugly sweaters with different “decorations” taped on. A sign on the back wall said “We survived, let’s eat!” Lindsey had decided against hanging up the posters Rose and Mal made saying “Stick it to the (ro)Man!” and “MaccaBEe mine.” The first one because she wasn’t sure it was appropriate, the second one because she knew it wasn’t.

“Ooo who brought the hotdog of the sea?” You asked, biting your lip to suppress a giggle as you walked over to the table to see the food on display. 

“What?” Lindsey’s eyes tried to follow yours, utterly confused. They didn’t get hotdogs. They most certainly weren’t on the list that Chanukah for dummies had given her. 

You smiled softly and shook your head, pointing to the tan balls that Emily had provided. 

“That’s what my siblings and I call it during Passover. Gefilte fish is kinda a love it or hate it thing…” you trailed off, scrunching your nose just slightly. 

“And you’re not a fan?” Lindsey smirked, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 

“Umm, I plead the fifth,” You mumbled, shaking your head slightly. It wasn’t your favorite item in the world. 

“That was all Emily,” Kelley snorted, clapping you on the back, and you grinned devilishly back at her. 

“Well, it was very nice of her to be so thoughtful. She can try a piece with me,” 

Emily cringed at the idea, but nodded nonetheless. It was your party and if eating the smelly thing out of a jar made you happy, then that’s exactly what she would do. (She also stealthily shot Lindsey the middle finger while you were surveying the rest of the items on the tables). 

“Honestly the sufganiyot is my favorite,” you said, taking a step towards the platter, your lips ticking up at Lindsey’s adorable confused face. “sorry, the donuts,” you clarified, picking up one of the many powdered sugar-covered donuts in the stack, inspecting it to see what kind it was. The Jelly ones were particularly important for the celebration. 

Lindsey blushed a little. “We didn’t know if you wanted jelly or custard,” She said hesitantly, watching as your eyes got impossibly brighter. 

“Both are amazing, thank you,” You smiled softly at the midfielder, brushing a stay bit of powdered sugar off her pink cheeks. You held her gaze for a moment before seeming realizing you had an audience, and turning towards the rest of the team. “thank all of you,” 

It wasn’t the traditional Chanukah you usually shared with your family, but the friends who had become your family made it special nonetheless.

[futurewriter2000]

Girls play Games, Women don’t. - pt.10 - final part

A/N: Okay, so here we are. I still haven’t started to write it, so this is just before part and after I finish and I’ll see if I’m going to make a epilogue? Or is it a prologue? Damn. I gotta google. - It’s epilogue.  I knew that, I just had to be sure. --- Finished. So freaking long but it was all just as I imagined. Even better tbh. I think we all deserve a good epilogue out of this.

XX

It was managable. It wasn’t perfect but you were a Slytherin and Slytherins are definetly known for their resourcefulness.

You were in your most comfortable sweatpants. They weren’t yours, they were Sirius’ and he didn’t mind sharing... to your knowledge. It was steamingly hot and you could barely breathe in the T-shirt, also Sirius’. Everything was from Sirius’ because you really hadn’t had a chance going back to your parents’ house to gather your things and leave peacfully.

You had just finished with all the exams Dumbledore was kind to give you so late in July but after the results, you are sure you will graduate and have your Hogwarts’ diploma.

Lately, after the exams you had done nothing but sit around this old, disintegrating apartment as Sirius just started his internship job in Auror’s office. He was usually late home and gone before you woke up. You two barely spent any time together but when you did he was always filling up the paperwork. He kept appologizing to you and saying he will make it up to you, which you didn’t mind but still missed him dearly when he left.

Now, you waited for the results. When you get results, you get your diploma and when you get your diploma, you can get yourself a job.

Until then, you have to deal with this apartment.

So you did.

You took the television from the unpacked box and with some hard effort moved it closer to the electrical socket. Since the cabel was short, you had to push the big box closer and was finally abel to turn it on. When you did, you skipped programe from programe on the buttons under the TV screen- you had no idea where the remote was- until you found the music programe.

Smiling to some background music, you stood back up and looked at the piles of unapacked boxes. “Let’s do this.” you smiled and started with the living room.

---

Sirius was climbing up the stairs, panting and looking up at the pile of stairs that awaited him. He was exhausted from today’s work so much, he was afraid of apparating. His brain was drained as if the Ministry squeezed every bit of them until they’re dry like the desert. He just wanted to provide for you. He wanted you to have everything you want, not this apartment he had to rent and ask James for some money to lent. It wasn’t fair but he had to. For you.

He finally managed to get to the door, putting the key in and opening them.

He heard a music playing and he immediately sobered up. He was not tired as before since his ear felt something so relaxing and familiar to his ears.

‘ I know your eyes in the morning sun I feel you touch me in the pouring rain And the moment that you wander far from me I want to feel you in my arms again...  ‘

He smiled at the song. Bee Gees? He didn’t think you would know them.

He walked into the living room, finding sofa cleaner than before, a coffee table in front sinking into a furry rug he had no idea where it came from. The coffee table was glass and it had an adorable little cloth in the middle with a candle and two remote controls. He looked to his left and found the TV sitting on a small chest with two drawers.

That chest was broken? How did you make it stand up like that?

It was at that question his nostrills sense a nice scent of roasted chicken, leading him into the kitchen.

He walked to find you standing behind the counter, cutting the paprika fairly quickly with the sharp knife, your fingers carefully hidden under your joints. Your hair were up in a bun with a few strands sticking out and a headband around your head. You jumped your head to the song, singing softly.

‘ How deep is your love, how deep is your love How deep is your love? I really mean to learn 'Cause we're living in a world of fools Breaking us down when they all should let us be We belong to you and me.’

He let you continue without knowing he was standing behind you. He was afraid that if he says anything, you might jump and cut yourself with the knife.

The song changed to Brandy by Looking Glass and you started gently thursting your hips left and right, catching Sirius’ attention. You wore his sweatpants that fell so perfectly down your wide hips, hugging your curves just in the right places. Seemingly, you cut his shirt into a crop top, showing your lacy bra that peeked under the shirt.

Sirius couldn’t help himself to grin. Especially when the song changed again: Cheryl by Yung Gravy.

You put the knife down and grabbed the wooden spoon, sliding to the pot but not for stirring. “ Juice, sauce, little bit of dressing (Ooh) Ice, wrist, little bit of flexing..” you opened the lid and finally stirred the sauce, shimmying your shoulders as you did and making Sirius laugh behind you.

You jumped at the sound of his chuckle, looking at him with wide eyes and blushing completely red into your cheeks.

“You’re home!?” you exclaimed, touching your messy hair and looking down at your outfit, knowing you cut his shirt in half. “I- uh- it was really hot and uh-” he started to approach you with opened arms, grinning cheekily. “I meant to change before you came- uh- you’re-” he was holding you in his and kissing you softly on your lips. “- early.” you smiled as he pulled away, putting his hand on your cheek and brushing his thumb across it.

The song changed again:  George Harrison - My Sweet Lord

“Sweet Lord indeed.” he looked you up and down and started to kiss you again and as much as that pleased you, your sauce might got overcooked.

Giggling to yourself, you pushed him away a bit, still holding him around the hips as both of you swayed to the pot. “Oh, Lover as much as you want to, the sauce is dearly important.” you gave him a peck and stirred again, turning off the stove and moving the pot on the other side, letting it cool of.

“You did all of this in one day?” he asked, looking around the kitchen and how brightly it shined.

You looked over your shoulder, catching his eye and winking at him. “I had nothing better to do anyway.” you grabbed the apple cider and olive oil, mixing the salad.

“Can you just put the plates and cutlery?” you glanced at the drawers to the side and he didn’t think twice to argue. If he was honest, he was hungry just as he was exhausted.

“Don’t mind if I do.” he quickly set up the table as you turned to leave the kitchen.

“Okay, I’ll just go get dressed-”

“Dressed?” he quickly took your hand and pulled you back. “I prefer you in my clothes.”

It was your time to smile cheekily at him, tapping his cheek with your finger and matching his grin. “No, you don’t.” you gently removed his hands from your waist and left to your bedroom.

Surprised, he kept staring after you, wanting to go see but objecting himself. “I’m marrying this woman.” he kept smiling and hearing something tumble in the bedroom.

It didn’t take you longer than 15 minutes when you walked back into the living room, finding him in the balcony, leaning over the fence and smoking his cigar. As much as you hated him smoking, you knew it was the only thing that kept him awake enough to spend some time with you.

You followed as quietly as you could, placing your hands over his eyes and kissing his ear gently. You could feel him smile just by feeling his cheeks touch the edges of your hand. He put his hands over yours and turned around slowly.

When he opened his eyes, he found you wearing a silk, red dress, which hugged your hips, your breast and your thighs. The edge was a few inches above the knee, your hair pinned back and some curls nicely loose in front of you. They were still a bit messy but you did think you had more time before he came home. With no foundation, the cream made your skin glow in the light just perfectly, an eyeshadow gorgeously done yet never seen on you before, mascara outlining your eyelashes and black underline exposing your twinkling eyes he adored so deeply.

“Wow.” he marveled, taking your hands in his and putting them behind his neck. “I wonder what would happen if I was late?”

“You’d probably faint.” you joked and he let out a laugh.

He kept looking at you, his hands on your hips, then on your face to your hair to everywhere they could touch. “You look absolutely stunning.” he kept looking and touching, as if you weren’t even real.

“Thank you.” you blushed again, giving him a soft peck on the lips and causing his stomach to burst from all the butterflies.

He felt his hands clammy, his heartbeat rise up as the next tought entered his mind.

You noticed his uncomfort a bit and pulled yourself away. Insecurity entered your mind and you quickly felt too much exposed to him. “Is something wrong?” you asked and he shot his head up to you, finding you just as confused as he was when he heard you listen to Bee Gees.

“No, no, no, no. Nothing is- well-” he cut himself off, looking up at the ceiling and contemplating. “There is something missing with the whole outfit.” he grinned and you felt a bit angered by the comment.

You crossed your arms over your chest, giving him the intimidated, furious look you gave to most of the people that tried to control what you should wear yet there was something in the way his eyes avoided you and his mouth kept twitching into a smirk that let your retorts keep themselves in your mind and not on your mouth.

He reached his hand in his pocket, shaking it as he struggled to get it out but when he did, it appeared to paralyze you completely.

It was a small, velvet box and it didn’t take an great aritmanist to figure out what was inside. You slapped your hands over your mouth, preventing any odd noises to come out as he went on one knee and opened the books. He smiled at the ring but smiled brighter and wider when his eyes met yours.

“I’ve been waiting for the right opportunity to introduce the two of you but as patient I thought I was, tonight made me realize that I will definetly marry you... if you will have me.” he smiled as your eyes started to tear up. You tried to stay calm, tried your best to wait for the next few lines and as you did, he took a deep breath and asked: “(y/n)(y/l/n), will you marry me?”

You started nodding franatically, tears of joy escaping your eyes as he put the rind on and stood up. You jumped into his arms, kissing him and looking at him as he did the same. “Yes! Yes I will!”

“Thank God!” He breahted out, causing you to laugh.

“I told you before I would, didn’t I?” you pulled away, framing his head as he continued to beam at you.

“I wasn’t sure if that was you or the adrenalin back then.”

You started laughing again. “It was me, silly.” you started to kiss him again. He deepened the kisses as time passed, letting his hands roam your body until they found themselves carrying into the bedroom, completely forgetting about the cooked dinner in the kitchen....

---

He continued to kiss your bare shoulder after. His hand travelled up and down your hip and thigh, then finally up your arm and to your hand. “You’re so much more flexible than I thought.” he growled into your ear, nibbling on it.

“And that’s after renovating the whole apartment.” you started to tease, interlacing your fingers with his. “Imagine what I would do to you if I’ve done nothihng but wait for you.” you turned your head to him only sligthly as he burried his nose into your neck.

“Oh, woman. You’re going to make me go crazy with that talk.” he kept nuzzling closer, making you laugh.

You turned around, removing his head from your shoulder and cupping it in your hands. He kept looking at you with that grey storm of his, softly calming down into a calm ocean water. His front curls fell on his forehead and his lips kept kissing your palms. He took your right hand into his and kept kissing it until his lips got stuck on the diamond ring. He kissed it gently and looked back up at you.

“Now, you’re really stuck with me.” he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close.

“Or you’re the one stuck with me.” you raised an eyebrow.

“We’re stuck with each other.” he continued.

“Oh, what a shame.” you smiled as he kissed you again and again, never getting enough.

All until something fell from the other room.

Both of you stopped to look at the door, glancing at each other and hearing another object- plate- shatter on the floor.

He got up the bed quickly, grabbing his underwear and pants as you did the same, grabbing the sweatpants you wore before and a larger shirt to cover most of your body. He gabbed his wand first, then passed down yours. Before he opened the door, he looked back at you and already found you more prepared than him.

“Do you-”

“No. You open, I go first.” you cut him off, tightening the grip around your wand and waiting for Sirius to open the door.

He smiled at your fierceness and prepared himself as well. That’s what he trains for- he opened the door and you stormed out and into the kitchen, pointing your wand at the dark figure sitting on the chair and eating the dinner you prepared for your fiance.

Sirius quickly followed, standing next to you with his wand pointed at the man as well.

“The chicken is done nicely... yet I see it missing something.” he grabbed the napkin and patted his lips as he stood up. “Curry maybe?”

“What are you doing here?” you growled, focusing your wand at him and going through all sorts of spells in your head.

His eyes glanced at your ring finger yet no reaction was readable enough to tell you what he thought. For you, it wasn’t needed to see a reaction. You already know what he felt; fury and betrayal.

“Congratulate you.” his voice spoke monotone and his lips curved into a smirk. “When’s the wedding?”

“Why are you here?” you persisted, trying to stay as calm as possible.

“Who’s the dramatic one now?” he gestured his hand to your wand as you rolled your eyes at him, scoffing.

“Must take after you.”

“So you still imply me as your father?”

“Do you still imply me as your daughter?”

“Heavily but yes...” he sat back down, leaning back and crossing his fingers. “Disappointed... but yes.” he quirked an eyebrow than glanced at Sirius, who only glared at him. “You’re training to be an Auror yet she’s the one in charge here?”

“Yes.” Sirius replied through his teeth, seething at him.

He looked back at you, placing his locked hands on the table. “I would have gotten you a stronger man than him. Someone who could take charge in your marriage... someone-”

“I don’t want a dominant partner. I want an equal.” you cut him off as he fell back in surprise. “He knows what I want and I want to know what the hell are you doing in our home?” 

He stood back up, rubbing his chin and leaning against the chair. His eyes were now narrowed, filled with something much more darker than before. “You know what I want.”

“No.”

His mouth twitched. 

“I am not opening the stupid box for you, especially if it’s really filled with so much more dark magic as it is rumored to be.”

He let out a chuckle, a wicked one indeed. He stared at you for one minute than the next he was already gone and holding Sirius with the tip of his wand pointing at his head. 

“NO!” you screamed but he only laughed.

“Hey, Sirius.” he whispered, tighting his grip around Sirius’ neck. “Maybe you should say hi to Devon McKingley for me.”

At the mention of that name, you lost it. You completely lost it, disarming your father immediately and stupefying him the next. He fell against the wall next to the television and the next thing you knew, you were using the crucifying curse on him, causing him to laugh and scream at the same time. 

Sirius behind you was gasping for air and strugling to get up as you approached your father, tears falling down your cheeks. “You think you can kill another man in my life, just because YOU DON’T LIKE IT!!” you bellowed, making his laugh turn into pain with the strenght of the curse. 

You stopped, letting him breathe a bit. 

“You don’t control me anymore.” you squeezed his cheeks together. “You don’t intimidate me, nor scare me.” you growled and pushed his head away, right into the wall so the sight spun in front of him. “You think I’m still your little girl trying to play your stupid little games, daddy?” you cooed the last word, provoking him a bit and earning a spiteful glare. “Girls play games. Women don’t.” you walked away, back to Sirius who took a hold of you, looking into your eyes as the Ministry popped into your apartment, due to the underage use of magic that was tracked from your apartment. 

It didn’t take you any effort to explain. People knew, all the wizards in the world knew what your father has done. Dumbledore went public with all the cases months ago. Your father was wanted for a long time but now? Now he was taken to Azkaban where he will rot till his death.

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

@thecorteztwins 

I wound up writing a little thing based on those panels you showed me of villains “rehabilitating” (but actually being mind-controlled) at Clear Mountain Center in X-Men 92.  This was meant to be a funny story about Fabian in rehab learning how to talk to women, but it got a little disturbing because of the mind-control aspect, and also Avalanche tells a grim little story about baby murder, so warnings for that.  But now I’m really tempted to write something about Haven taking the place over and actually Doing It Right.

“So,” Fabian began, speaking in the halting tones of someone attempting to wrap his mind around a difficult concept. “You’re saying you’re not attracted to me?”

               “Not in the slightest,” said Tabitha Smith, the mutant known as Boomer (and also Time Bomb, Boom-boom, Meltdown, and whatever other code-name caught her fancy).  Her tone was firm, but she smiled at him, as if to soften the blow.  “I mean, you’re obviously good-looking, just not my type.”

               “Oh, of course, you prefer women.  I understand.  I am open-minded about such things –“

               “Nooooo…..” Boomer cut in, with some slight irritation creeping into her voice.  “I’m mostly into guys.  Just different types of guys.”  Fabian thought hard.  He was tempted to spread his legs out wider, to give her a better look at what she was rejecting, but he’d gotten enough tiny power-bombs to the crotch to learn that that was a bad idea.  (The low-powered bombs did no real damage, but they certainly stung.)

               “I get it, I get it.  You are holding yourself back.  You are maintaining a professional relationship because you are my counselor.”

               “No!”  Boomer held her head in her hands for a moment, sighing.  “Look, not every woman will find you attractive, okay?  Everyone has different preferences.  Like, people think Leonard Decaprio is super-hot, and he just doesn’t do anything for me, I’m more of a Brad Pitt girl.  It’s not something you need to feel bad about, it doesn’t mean you’re like, ugly, or anything like that.”

               Fabian’s mind whirled.  This girl was young, beautiful, a powerful mutant, and had showed him such kindness as his mentor.  She had a surprising amount of wisdom underneath her shallow and flippant demeanor.  And yet, her judgement was so unsound. Perhaps she had some kind of psychological condition, like a strange form of face-blindness?  But then, Fabian had been learning to accept many ideas that had previously seemed impossible.  The idea of living with the humans in peace.  The idea of answering hatred with understanding, not violence. The idea that he should treat others with kindness and respect, instead using them as stepping stones in his quest for status and power.

               “Very well,” Fabian began again.  It was difficult to force the words out.  “I…accept that you do not find me attractive.  I….accept that some people…..may….not find me attractive.   After all, there are many different preferences in this world.”

               “Yeah, dude, exactly.  It’s like…some people like Cool Ranch Doritos?  And some people prefer Nacho Cheese.  There’s no right or wrong, except for the people who like Funyuns, because that shit is nasty.”  Fabian wanted to roll at his eyes at her rather low class tastes, but instead he found himself laughing good-naturedly.

               “Ha, ha, yes, that is a funny joke,” he said, beaming.  It was strange.  His mind felt so….slow.  Like there was this weight pressing down in it.  But at the same time, it was oddly pleasant.  A bit like Anne Marie’s more enthusiastic hugs, which always threatened to break the recipient’s back.

               “In Spain we have jamon flavored potato chips.  Perhaps you would find them interesting to try.  I will bring some back the next time I visit home.” He did not add that he had never eaten those chips, they were junk food for peasants, but if this girl found them enjoyable, he would indulge her.  It was a nice thing to do, and he found that he wanted to be nice lately. He didn’t entirely understand why.

               “Oh dude, that would be amazing!”  Boomer exclaimed.  “I love trying junk food from other countries.  There’s so much cool stuff out there.  Did you know that they have, like, a whole ton of Kit-Kat flavors in Japan?”

                I don’t care, Fabian wanted to say.  I spent my time in Japan eating Kobe beef and blue-fin tuna, not wasting my money on cheap candy.

               “No, I didn’t know that,” he said aloud instead.  He hadn’t meant to say that.  He hadn’t intended to sound so interested, but his mouth and brain did not seem properly connected.  The pleasant feeling hung over him, almost suffocating.

               “OMG, there are like, so many!  There’s strawberry, and sweet potato, and soy sauce, and wasabi – which is like, better than you’d expect – and sake, and…”

               Fabian wanted to tell her to stop prattling, but he couldn’t quite find the words.  He looked around the outdoor area while she rambled on.  There was Blob pruning rhododendron bushes with Storm, the blossoms tiny in his huge, clumsy hands.    

               “….and blueberry cheesecake, and apple pie, and brown sugar syrup, and cantaloupe which sounds totally disgusting but apparently it’s pretty good, and…”

               The Kleinstock brothers and Frenzy were tossing a Frisbee around with Feral and Cannonball, while Vertigo and Arclight were playing scrabble with Polaris and Multiple Man.  Ruckus was strumming a guitar, pausing occasionally to sweep his hair back dramatically, and clearly looking around for an audience.  Ugh, he was singing “One Tin Soldier.”  Fabian hated that song.  Fabian hated……a lot of things that were happening at that moment.

               “….and maple, and pumpkin, and chestnut, and green tea, and Tokyo Banana, because apparently that’s a thing, and..”

               He hated listening to this stupid girl spew out every thought in her empty brain.  He hated sitting in group therapy and listening to the peons that he shared the facility with whining about their inconsequential problems.  He hated having to hug people.  He hated being stuck in this adult daycare while he should be leading his Acolytes to victory against humankind (and racking up a few kill points for the Upstarts while he was at it.)  Something in his mind was breaking free.

               “Enough!” he snapped, jumping to his feet.  “This isn’t right!  I shouldn’t be here!”  Boomer paused in her Kit-Kat flavor recital.

               “Whoa, dude.  Chill out. You need a time-out, or something? Maybe you need some time in the Angry Room.”

“No, I do not need some time in the Angry Room,” Fabian snarled.  “I don’t belong here with the  rest of these losers, there’s nothing wrong with me.  I’m….I’m so much better than the rest of you.  I’m practically a god!  I should be….should be –“  His eyebrow twitched.  His body shuddered, and a fixed grin came over his face.

               “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be saying things like that. What am I thinking?  We’re all special in our own way.  I just want us all to be friends,” Fabian continued.  A single tear leaked out of one corner of his eye.

               “Hey, good job, man,” said Boomer, patting him on the shoulder. “You recognized a negative thought pattern, and then, like, stopped it.  That totally deserves a Hershey Kiss.”  She tossed him the silver wrapped chocolate.

               “Thank you.”  Fabian shuddered again, and then his body seemed to relax, his tense smile softening into one that seemed genuine, if a bit dazed.  “I like Hershey Kisses.”

               “Don’t we all, buddy.”

               “They are good,” Fabian continued, pulling the foil off and popping the chocolate in his mouth absent-mindedly.  “This place is a good place.  We are all good here.”

               At the table, another group was mid-way through a fairly intense game of Uno.  Most of the group (X-Men included), would have preferred poker, but apparently that wasn’t wholesome enough the rehabilitation process.

               “I’m just saying, we didn’t start the war.”  Avalanche slapped down a card, perhaps slightly too hard. “Humans want to stomp out anyone who’s different.  That’s the whole damn history of the human race.”

               “But nothing will change if we continue the cycle of violence,” argued Colossus.  

               “We must ‘turn the other cheek,’” agreed Nightcrawler. “Send out a message of peace and love.” He betrayed that sentiment by tossing down a Draw Four card.

               “Yeah, and the guy that did that got nailed to a cross, didn’t he?”  Avalanche retorted.  “Didn’t work out so well for him.”

               “You can’t be expecting us to imitate Christ, can ya?” Pyro put in, throwing a Reverse on the stack.  “He was all flawless and perfect and ‘ineffable,’ right?  And he had a get-out-of-death-free card.  We ain’t got that.”  

               “You could have that, by the Grace of God –“ Nightcrawler began, than stopped, shaking his head.  “I’m sorry, this is not the right place for that conversation.  I know religion is very personal, and everyone must make their own choices.  But I will talk about it with any of you privately, if you want.”

               “All I’m saying is, humans have tried to bloody kill us,” Pyro continued.  “Are we supposed to just lie down and take it?  I’ve had people turn on me, even back before the Brotherhood, before I committed any crimes.  People that I thought I could trust.”  The cards in his hand crumpled as his fist clenched.

               “Humans are fucking brutal.  I’ve seen…..”  Avalanche shook his head.  “There was a woman back on Kalymnos, gave birth to a baby with gills.  Nothing wrong with the kid otherwise, it was just a cute baby.  But people acted like it was the damn anti-Christ.  Her husband moved out and wouldn’t have anything to do with her. And one day….”  A slight tremor rippled across the table as he continued. “One day some guy just snatched the baby out of her arms and threw it down on the rocks.  I’ll never forget how she screamed.  And nothing ever happened to the guy.  He was a murderer, and the police did nothing.  Everyone just pretended that it never happened –“  The table shook visibly now, the vibrations spreading out into the ground around them.

               “Tovarish, please calm down.  I understand how that memory must pain you, but –“    

               The vibrations suddenly stopped.  For a moment, Avalanche looked confused, then a dull smile spread across his face.

               “I’m sorry, friends.  I just get upset sometimes, thinking about that.  I shouldn’t dwell on such horrible memories.”

               “Yes, we should just think about good things,” Pyro agreed, wearing the same sickly smile.  “We are in a good place.  We are all good here.”

               Sitting in the sun on the roof, Toad wrapped his arms around himself, smiling.  He felt….good.  For the first time that he could remember, he was entirely at peace with himself.  He wasn’t plagued with anxiety at every social interaction, waiting for the inevitable rejection, wasn’t miserable when he looked into the mirror.  No more flashbacks or sudden fits of sadness or anger.  He woke up and was actually eager to get out of bed in the morning, eager for a day that he knew would bring good things.  And people were actually being nice to him!  There was no superficial politeness or poorly hidden disgust, no cheap pity.  Just genuine kindness.  His counselors and the other former super-villains actually seemed glad to see him every day.

               Of course, sometimes it felt too good to be true. Sometimes he would look around and everything would feel slightly off, like one of those hyper-realistic dreams where you can only tell that you’re dreaming because something in your room is out of place.  He felt like he was constantly wrapped in a blanket of warm air, and it was so good and comforting, but it made him dull and sleepy.  (Perhaps this was what being drunk was supposed to be like?  For the normal people?  When Toad tried alcohol, it only seemed to make him sad.)  Things were very hazy, and it was hard to put his thoughts together.  But that didn’t matter, did it?  Because finally he was safe and happy, and everyone was so nice.

               “This is a good place,” he said aloud to no one in particular. “We are all good here.”