#rachel talks weight lifting

[vodkacheesefries]

I did something to my shoulder today during my top squat (352) and I'm not freaking out at all because I have a competition in two weeks

[coconut-dreamz]

you're losing me

'how long can we be a sad song' || tom blyth x reader

part two

a/n: i felt angsty and i love this song so i wanted to write something based off of it

you say, "i don't understand, " and i say, "i know you don't" we thought a cure would come through in time, now i fear it won't

the fights felt as if they were never ending lately. it hadn't always been this way, but that felt like a lifetime ago. the problems had started when tom began filming for tbosas but they had ceased when filming for it wrapped. but your relationship wasn't the same as it was before. now it was time for promotions and the fights had started up once again.

"i don't understand! why do we keep having to have this fight over and over again!" tom shouted. you scoff in disbelief at his outburst. he didn't know why you felt so insecure and jealous? it wasn't like you had told him at least a dozen times before.

"you know what, just go on your tour alone. i don't want to ruin it with our fighting." you resign, taking your already packed suitcase back into the apartment, away from the door. "you should go, the cab's waiting." you tell him quietly, unable to look up from the ground.

he just sighs, "alright, i'll see you in a few weeks." staring at you, waiting for you to look up at him. " have a safe flight," you look up at him, but refuse to meet his eyes. he just thanks you and heads out the door.

remember lookin' at this room, we loved it 'cause of the light now, I just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time do I throw out everything we built or keep it?

you sat in the dark room of your shared apartment with tom. you had picked it because of the view of the city lights, but now it just felt cold and desolate, like nobody lived here. in all honesty, it hadn't been lived in for awhile. with tom gone for movie promotions, you hadn't been able to be here alone, opting to stay with a friend instead.

you don't know where to go from here. should you salvage what remained of your relationship with tom? or should you scrap everything and start new?

the latter choice had been seeming more and more appealing as of late. you hadn't heard from tom in days. at first you chalked it up to him being busy and the time difference, but you saw he posted a new croissant review and realized he was ignoring you. where had it all gone wrong?

i'm getting tired even for a phoenix always risin' from the ashes mendin' all her gashes you might just have dealt the final blow

you had made the mistake of watching one of tom's latest interviews with his costar rachel. you watched it because you'd missed him, but now that you'd watched it, you wished you just stayed missing him. you didn't miss the way they looked at each other. it'd been so long since you'd looked at each other like that. your eyes were always filled with rage or tears whenever you saw him lately.

you were just so tired of it all. you contemplated texting him and breaking things off. it'd be a whole lot easier that way. maybe the weight on your chest would be lifted. but a part of you didn't want to let go of him. he'd been your everything once.

stop, you're losin' me i can't find a pulse my heart won't start anymore for you 'cause you're losin' me

"how are you baby?" tom asks, his voice cutting through the silence, breaking you out of your reverie. he managed to find some time to call you while on his press tour. "huh? oh, i'm fine. how are you? how's press tour going?" you ask absentmindedly, hearing you ask about tour sparked a light in tom's eyes. he started rambling about the antics he and his cast mates had been up to.

you smiled fondly hearing him talk, until he mentioned rachel. she'd been a sore spot in your relationship lately. the mere mention of her name left a sour taste in your mouth. the grin on your face immediately swept off.

"it's getting late, i think i'm gonna go to bed. i hope the rest of your tour goes well," you fake a smile, trying to hurry to end the facetime call. "oh, i guess it is late over there. i love you, sleep well.” he bids you a goodnight. "love you," you reply and end the call. you bury yourself in your blankets, tired of the emotional turmoil that was caused by your relationship lately.

every mornin', i glared at you with storms in my eyes how can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dyin'? i sent you signals and bit my nails down to the quick my face was gray, but you wouldn't admit that we were sick

you'd lost the glow your skin once had. it'd became increasingly noticeable to those around you. your makeup artist had to try harder to make it less noticeable on red carpets and photo shoots. but it was all in vain, everyone noticed how you'd looked sickly lately, everyone but tom.

or, if he did, he didn't mention anything about it. "you look great." he complimented as you two climbed into the car that was to take you to the premiere of his film. it had taken your makeup artist a lot longer than usual to do your makeup, having to cover up the blemishes and gray tone of your skin from the lack of care you'd given yourself lately. you’d been opting to lay around in bed, moping.

"thanks," you mutter as the car begins to move. you picked at your nails, something you'd picked up lately to help deal with your nerves. you no longer could have any type of nails, you'd bit them down to nubs lately. but tom didn't seem to have noticed. he didn't seem to notice anything about you lately.

and the air is thick with loss and indecision i know my pain is such an imposition now, you're runnin' down the hallway and you know what they all say you don't know what you got until it's gone

"stop! where are you going?" shit. you stop dead in your tracks, tom was home early for once. you'd thought he wouldn't back for another day or two. "did you hear me?" he makes his way in front of you. you try avoiding his gaze, but it was difficult when his icy blue eyes stared into your soul.

you tried to formulate the words to tell him it was over. "i'm leaving." you finally managed to say. his concerned eyes turn frantic at your words. "what?" he whispers out, grabbing your hand. "you're leaving? why?" you take a breath, you tried leaving when he was gone because you couldn't face him. "things haven't been the same lately. i think we need a break. i'm going to stay with a friend. i'll come back for the rest of my things later. i think it's best if we don't talk for awhile." you manage out, finally meeting his eyes.

what a mistake. his previously concerned eyes were now filled with sadness. you tried moving past him to your car. he grabs your hand one more time, "can you at least tell me what's wrong?" you sigh hearing this, "i think you know why, tom." is all you answer, dragging your suitcase behind you.

how long could we be a sad song 'til we were too far gone to bring back to life? i gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy and all i did was bleed as i tried to be the bravest soldier fighting in only your army frontlines , don't you ignore me

it'd been a few weeks since you'd moved out of your shared apartment with tom. you felt relieved when you had finally walked out of the apartment. it had been feeling less like a home and more like a prison lately. you felt stuck in time in there. everyone around you was moving forward their lives, your friends, family and especially tom, but there you were. stuck waiting around for tom to give you the time of day.

you'd spend too long waiting around for your relationship to go back to how it once was. you'd given that relationship your all but got the bare minimum back in return. you should've called time of death on it months ago, but a big part of you wasn't ready to let go. you had spent your best years with him after all.

and i wouldn't marry me either a pathological people pleaser who only wanted you to see her

you and tom used to talk about the future all the time. laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling and giggling about your thoughts on what the future had in store. you told him about your dream wedding and he told you about how he wanted a cozy home with a big yard for your future children.

but that seemed so far in the past. you suppose he changed his mind. who'd want to marry a person who'd give every piece of themselves for someone who won't even bat an eye at them? you'd given him your all in the last year of your relationship, but had gotten nothing in return. all in an attempt to bring back what you both once had.

and i'm fadin', thinkin' "do something, babe, say something" "lose something, babe, risk something" "choose something, babe, i got nothing to believe unless you're choosin' me"

you laid in the makeshift bed of your friend’s studio apartment waiting for tom to reach out. you were aware of what you had told him, but you wanted to see if he truly did care about your relationship.

it hurt to see him happy on set of billy the kid. you followed his castmates and it hurt to see the snippets of him on their stories. he looked so happy and carefree. the exact opposite of how you were feeling and probably looked.

you hoped he was just respecting your wishes of having no contact for a few weeks, but the small voice in the back of your mind was screaming that he didn't care. that he was happier without you, that he was better off now that you were gone.

you're losin' me stop, you're losin' me stop, you're losin' me i can't find a pulse my heart won't start anymore

a constant buzzing woke you up from your deep sleep. you blindly search for your phone. when you find it, the clock shows that it's exactly 12 in the morning. you hit answer without looking at the contact. "hello?" you answer, your voice raspy from lack of use.

"love? it's me, tom. it's been exactly 6 weeks like you said. can we finally talk?"

[genericpuff]

Lore Olympus will be officially ending in 2024.

While this is vague both in Rachel's responses (as always) and the actual specific timeline, considering this is the final 'arc' and most of Rachel's arcs rarely go any longer than 12-15 episodes, I have the sneaking suspicion she's going to try to wrap this up by March/April. That's just a prediction, mind you, it could just as well go on throughout the entire year of 2024.

That said, it's wild to see it finally confirmed, like a weight has finally been lifted of our shoulders. Many of us have been speculating on it for a while now that LO would undoubtedly get dragged out as it's Webtoon's golden goose and clearly Rachel's lifeline to the industry.

Lore Olympus has been a part of my life since 2019, and an even larger part of it in the last year and a half when I joined the critical community. It's going to be weird to live in a world where LO just doesn't update.

Of course, as mentioned in the article, there's still the matter of the physical books which are still FAR behind the webtoon version, and the TV show which they swear is still happening (but we all know it's not happening lmao).

So I don't think this will be the end of WT milking it for all its worth, but I am interested to see what happens to WT when they don't have their golden goose on a leash and chain anymore. They've sunk so much money and priority ad space into LO that even other Originals creators can't stand the comic due to how much its undercut their own opportunities. I'm hoping this will be a wake-up call to WT to give more attention to their series that are struggling and deserve to be seen, rather than focus all of their attention into one series that's barely got a pulse to speak of.

Of course, I'm sure people are wondering, "What about the fandom communities? What about antiLO/ULO?"

Listen, this isn't the first fandom I've taken part in, though it's certainly the one I've been the most directly active in with the essays I write and the stuff I do through Rekindled.

But if being in fandoms has taught me anything, it's that it doesn't matter how long a series has been gone. If there are people who still love it - or love to hate it - taking part in discussion, that discussion will continue to thrive. A series existing in hindsight is just as much a reason for participation as an active series existing in the present day. If anything, a series falling into the realm of 'hindsight' can give us the room we need to sit and reflect on what the series actually did, and what we were left with in the end. It's never stopped the folks who still talk about long-ago-completed series like The Office, House M.D., and Avatar: The Last Airbender.

So if you're new to the LO critical community, or asking yourself if it's still going to be "worth it" to take part in the fandom after LO is done - it's as worth it as you make it. There will always be something worth discussing in this fandom if we're wanting to discuss it.

As for me, well... I'm just getting started.

[watermelonlovershigh]

"You Are Beautiful" /blurb/

AN: this was highly anticipated so here you go!!! enjoy!!

This story contains: talks of body image, talks of weight and dieting, insecurities, crying, comfort

{ dadrry - husband!harry - softrry }

word count- 1,300

After one of the other moms at brunch mentions how she's getting plastic surgery and asks if you're getting any, you start to get insecure over your body and later that night Harry finds you crying in the shower and proceeds to comfort you.

Since becoming parents ten years ago, you and Harry have collected quite a few friends that are also parents. Whether you met through school activities your kids participated in together, living in the same neighborhood, or from playdates your kids had with their kids. It's nice to have other parents you can go to for parenting advice or other parents who have the same struggles as you.

-----------------------------------

Today you and a few of your mom friends went out for brunch where you ordered mimosas and chatted about the upcoming PTO meeting at your kids school. Everything was going great until one of the other moms got on the discussion of dieting and losing weight. Not that the topic of weight loss and diets triggered you but it was something you hating talking about. Mainly because you were insecure about your body.

Your body has housed four babies and it doesn't look as fresh and new as it once did. You have stretch marks and extra skin on your hips and tummy. Your boobs sag and your thighs have grown thicker over the years. Though you know your husband Harry loves you, you sometimes wonder if he misses the old you. The one who was as skinny as a barbie doll and had smooth skin with barely any imperfections.

One of the other moms, Rachel, mentioned how she had booked a surgery to remove her belly fat and a boob job and that she and her husband were ecstatic. Why her husband was excited you didn't really understand. Because shouldn't he love her how she was. Anyways, Rachel could have asked anyone of the other moms at the table, but instead she decided to look directly at you and ask, "Y/n, have you looked into any surgeries? You know, from having all those kids, I'm sure your body needs a good pick - me - up."

It took everything in you not to burst out crying at the table in front of everyone. What was she implying? That you needed surgery because your four kids ruined your body? You always tried to wear baggier clothes to cover up your pudgy stomach but maybe it was still noticeable to everyone. Maybe the support bras you usually wear doesn't hide the fact your boobs sag and point to the floor.

You managed to finish the brunch, acting as if Rachel's words didn't bother you. But as soon as you were on your drive home, your tears started flowing. If her husband was excited about her upcoming surgeries then maybe Harry would be excited for you to book some surgeries too. Maybe he thinks your body needs a pick - me - up. The thought of that crushes you because you don't want any surgeries. Though you do feel insecure in your body at times, you wouldn't want surgeries to fix it.

-----------------------------------

Harry had to work late in his office so that meant you were the one to put all your kids to sleep. You didn't mind because you know how much Harry loves to share the task of tucking your kids into bed with you and if he could have been there to help, he would have been. After your kids were all snug in their beds, you decided to hop in the shower and decompress for the night.

As you're in the shower, all the bad memories from today's brunch starts playing in your head and all you can do is stare down at your wet body. Maybe you do need to get surgery. To remove your belly fat and lift your boobs up higher. Even a surgery to remove your stretch marks. You didn't realize as your hands run across your body that you have tears running down your face. You also didn't realize Harry had come home.

After he went to each of your child's rooms to place a gentle kiss on their little foreheads as they sleep, he made his way into your shared room where he thought you'd be. When he sees you're not there, he steps into the bathroom where it's clear you're in the shower. But not only does Harry hear the sounds of the shower going on, he also hears the sounds of your cries from within the shower.

"Y/n, baby, what's the matter? Are you cryin'?" Harry questions worriedly as he steps closer to the steamy shower. You jump slightly from being startled but relax when you realize your husband is finally home.

Not really knowing what to say, you stutter out, "Um, I'm fine. All good." But Harry isn't buying it. He can tell you're upset about something and knows you need a good cuddle (hug).

"Love, can I come in? Wanna see your pretty face. Make sure you're okay." he asks, wanting to comfort you anyway he can.

You nod your head yes but realize he can't see your movements due to the glass of the shower walls and door being fogged up. So you reply quietly, "Yeah." That gives Harry the okay to start shedding his clothes and joining you. As soon as Harry walks into the shower and closes the door, he steps forward and wraps his arms around you from behind. You're too embarrassed to turn around right now and face him.

Harry props his chin on your shoulder and hugs your body close to his front. The feeling of him so close to you makes you start crying even harder. You bring your hands up to cover your face as sobs leave your body. "Baby, gotta tell me what's the matter?" Harry whispers in your ear, "Don't like seeing you so upset."

Taking a deep breath, you answer through your cries, "Today, at....... at the brunch with the group of other moms, Rachel, she, she talked about how she's getting surgery to remove her belly fat and is getting a boob job. And how her and her husband are so excited. Then she looked directly at me and asked if I was going to get surgery. Implying I needed surgery. Do you think I need surgery? I know my body isn't as good as it use to be but I did have four kids and I don't know, she just hurt my feelings."

Your confession has Harry's eyes tearing up. How dare anyone imply your body is anything less than perfect. Because it is perfect to him. Slowly, Harry turns your naked body around in his hold so you're facing him. He tilts your head up and gently pryes your hands away from your face. "Love, look at me. You are beautiful. You don't need anythin' like surgeries that would change your body. I love your body the way it is. It's what makes you, you. Don't listen to those snobby rich mums, m'kay. I love you and would never ask you to change for me."

With a weak nod, you mutter, "Okay. Love you, too." Harry leans down and places a delicate kiss to your lips. You have snot running down your face but he doesn't care. After the kiss is over with, you wrap your arms around his wet body and he re-wraps his arms around you. Then for the next couple of minutes the two of you sway back and forth under the cascading water that's drenching your bodies.

Harry's the one to end your cuddling moment when he decides it's time to actually bathe your bodies. He helps you wash your hair and body so you don't have to lift a finger. Then he washes himself while you stand under the water stream to stay warm. Once you're all clean, Harry helps dry you both off and get changed. Then helps you into bed, where he cuddles you with a heavy embrace until you fall asleep.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @japanchrry // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @itfeelslikemytherapisthatesme // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore1 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran

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______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

[m0chaminx]

Gar Logan | Stay

*•.¸♡Request: @cjisbored , thanks love

*•.¸♡Prompts: none

*•.¸♡Warnings: mentions of violence and death

*•.¸♡Paring: Gar Logan x GN!reader

*•.¸♡Summary: You comformt Gar after his experience with CADMUS (just a whole bunch of comfort fluff)

*•.¸♡Words: 635

Gar sat alone in the training room, the cuffs of his green jacket pulled past over his hands. You stood by the door, fingers tapping against the wooden frame, not loud enough to disturb Gar. You took a nervous breath and that's when Gar looked up, slightly glancing over his shoulder. "I can hear you," Gar called softly. "Your hearts racing."

Your hand fell from the door frame and walked over to Gar, sitting beside him on the small steps that led to the sparring space. You ran your hands over your denim jeans and glanced up at Gar. It was only the two of you now that would really use the training room. Kory, Dick and Conner would have no use for it, Rose left a few days after Donna's memorial dinner, and so did Hank and Dawn.

You wouldn't use the training room as much, but every now and then when you'd walk past you'd see Gar. Sometimes he would lazily puch one of the heavy bags other days he would just sit, staring at the unused training weapons.

"Can I ask you something?" Your voice came out as a whisper. Gar nodded softly but his eyes stayed forward, staring at nothing. "How are you? After everything that happened with Donna... and CADMUS, I haven't really asked you about it."

It's not that you and Gar weren't close, you were. You had met him, Kory and Rachel, when Dick asked you to get them safely to Rachel's mother's house and you had been around ever since. You tried to keep Gar as safe as possible but when Dick told everyone the truth about Jerico you couldn't stay in the tower anymore and you followed Hank and Dawn until you got a weird text from Gar about Conner. When you got back to the tower you met with Donna and you both investigated the broken tower.

When you found Gar's bloody hand prints, it felt like your world sunk and when you found he was alive but under the control of a Lex Lab corporation you didn't know what to do. Somehow in the haze of Gar's mind control, you were able to reach out and find him again, though not with the close tiger bite to your left arm. Since then, you hadn't really talked to Gar.

"I didn't mean to bite you," Gar said softly, his voice slightly horse. "I didn't mean to do any of it..."

You shuffled closer to Gar and ran your hand down his arms. "None of it was your fault Gar. None of it was you. CADMUS did some weird experiments on you Gar, you couldn't have stopped it. We... I left you here alone."

"I didn't want to hurt anyone." Gar's jaw clenched as he let out a shaky breath, his arms coming up to hug his knees. "You say it wasn't me, but it feels like it was."

"I'm not saying you can't feel it. I'm just saying it wasn't your fault, you have every right to feel however you want." Gar nodded softly, his expression filled with understanding and empathy. 

You allowed yourself to surrender to the weight of your emotions, leaning your head against his sturdy shoulder, seeking solace and comfort in his presence. With a gentle touch, your hand traversed the expanse of his broad back, its warmth radiating through your fingertips. Each movement conveyed unspoken words of support and solidarity, silently affirming the profound connection between you. In that tender moment, you found solace in the simple yet profound act of physical closeness, as if the weight of the world had momentarily lifted from your shoulders.

"Can you stay with me for a bit?" You nodded softly, his green hair rubbing against your head.

"I'll stay as long as you need."

ﾟ°☆Page Navigation

[zalrb]

y'know I've been seeing the phrase 'chemistry' thrown around a lot lately. like it happened with rob and Zoe with the batman (2022) which you already talked about, it happened with the little mermaid live action (which you also commented on), and now with that new hunger games movie -> everyone is raving about the 'chemistry' between the leads (I haven't seen so I can't really comment). but it just makes me think: is it 'chemistry'? or is it just two hot people on screen breathing the same air?

I think that the word 'chemistry' is overused, do the general audience even know what 'chemsitry' really looks like anymore? I mean yes casting directors still have their actors do 'chemistry reads' but...? I say this because I think back to the posts you made about both rob and Zoe, Halle and Jonah, and now tom and Rachel (from the new hunger games movie, not sure if you will watch). all those actors performed chemistry reads with another for their respective movies, and you would think since the directors saw that chemistry then they must have it right, but after going through your blog, I've been more confused. do directors really look for chemistry, or do they just say "these two look good together, that should be enough to sell the movie"? cause they kinda have a point if that's the case.

I'm sorry I know this ask is like all over the place, but your blog really helped open my eyes, I guess I'm just tired of seeing the word 'chemistry' be thrown around at every 'hot ' couple that graces our screens. guess I would just like to know your thoughts on how the definition of 'chemistry' has changed since the early 2000s media?

sidenote: idk if you're going to watch the new hunger games but, I personally don't think the 2 leads have chemistry. I've only seen clips but from what I've seen they're just mostly 'longing' gazes between them and heavy breathing? I will say that the guy that plays snow is doing the more heavy lifting in scenes with Rachel. for Rachel, this probably just me but I feel like she was miscast for the role (according to sources she did not have to audition, it was just offered to her). in some scenes it does look like she was trying too hard, like she was struggling with some of the emotional beats. its almost as if she was 'insecure' in this role, and that her acting ability was not strong enough to handle the emotional weight of this film, if that makes sense? I would like to know your opinions/thoughts if see the film or watch some clips

OK. So.

First of all, I would like to see the actual chemistry tests and wish they were available because when I watch Sam and Cait's chemistry read, for instance, I'm like, it's obvious that they were going to be lightning in a bottle. LOOK at them.

This makes absolute sense.

So, I wanted to find another chemistry read soI literally just typed it in on youtube and saw TSITP and how they did it over Zoom and then before I watched it, to make sure that that actually happened, I looked it up and the author was like,

"It was the first chemistry read I had done over Zoom and I was like, 'I don't know if this is going to work?'" Han exclusively told E!. "Obviously, it's more enlightening to be in a room with people and see how they connect and see how they look together and what the energy is. But when Han saw Tung and Briney together for the first time, she knew she had found her Belly and Conrad. It really felt like it was popping off the screen right away," she raved, "honestly."

and then I watched it and was like, OK if you think these people are your characters then who am I to tell you they aren't, you wrote them, but were they popping onscreen, though? Were they really? And watching this and then watching the show had me like, no wonder why they frustrated the hell out of me, there's nothing here.

The most I can say is that Chris seems to be a marginally better actor when he's not actually physically interacting with Lola and it actually seems like what was popping onscreen was that they were both exactly who she thought her characters would be like as individuals, but alas, that's just my interpretation of what happened there.

And then there's the chemistry read for To All The Boys I've Loved Before and I watched it like, Noah is charming in it and he's natural and Lana is... keeping up, they're comfortable enough but I wouldn't say there's vibing, it's pretty forgettable, which is what I said about their chemistry in the movies

so I was like, yeah this chemistry read makes sense for what I saw onscreen because it was fine but i wasn't great, it still felt staged and I forgot about them and the movie(s) right after I finished watching it.

So, when directors talk about the chemistry reads I'm like, I want to know what they looked like. Are they Outlander or TSITP?

but it just makes me think: is it 'chemistry'? or is it just two hot people on screen breathing the same air?

And this has always been something I've posed to anons when I used to argue about chemistry.

Do you just like the dynamic?

Are they just attractive?

Does she just have big eyes?

Those seem to be the three questions I asked a lot and I'm inclined to believe that now, directors look for the people who they think look good together and will sell their show/movie based on that because the internet's going to do the rest. Like, initium kept sending me these tweets about the AMAZING. INTENSE. HOT. chemistry between the Bridgerton leads

and I was like ... oh yeah, that fist bump screams sexual tension. Please be serious. Like, Tony and Kerry didn't have chemistry reads and they kind of just hoped for the best but when Shonda talks about how she literally had to leave the stage watching them film something

it's earned in what I'm actually watching onscreen.

I also feel like now, if one person has the intent, and if one person is carrying the dynamic, then that's considered chemistry and it's sufficient.

In terms of seeing the Hunger Games, I know my mom really wants to see it because Viola Davis is in it and I was like, you know she's probably going to be in it for like 3 minutes "I don't care!" so it's probably going to happen sooner or later. I can't find any clips of them just edits and I have a rule about edits.

[ameliagiovanna0]

I Kinda Might Sorta Like Love You A Little Bit

Title from Love You a Little Bit by Tanner Adell

(Sort of) Requested by @tolkienis4ever ​

“Tim thinking of proposing to Lucy”

Valentine's Day fluff based on 5x16

1.8k words

AO3

Valentine’s Day. It was an overly commercialized, overly sensationalized, ridiculous, glitter-covered holiday. Tim and Isabel never really did Valentine’s Day. They weren’t particularly amorous. Despite the occasional bouquet of roses on February 14 th , they showed each other affection in other ways. They had date nights and small gifts here and there throughout the year. Birthdays and Christmas were more their speed.

Rachel was only around for one Valentine’s Day. Fortunately for Tim, she was on a business trip over the holiday. When she got back, they went to dinner, but that was the extent of their celebrations.

Ashley, while still only having been in Tim’s life for one Valentine’s Day, loved the holiday. Her intense affinity for it made him squirm. Her first suggestion for their date included a modern French dinner at République and dessert on the beach. Her second suggestion was a tour of The Getty Villa’s Asia exhibit and a paint and sip on the beach. He compromised with dinner at République and dessert at her place. He hoped to God he picked the least painful option.

Tim picked Ashley up at her townhouse, a bouquet of daisies in hand, only because it was the expected thing for him to do. Roses seemed too cliché, for good reason. They were too sure, too I’m committed to this relationship . He knew they weren’t meant to last. He knew when she told him she didn’t want to get married or have kids. He knew when pulling the proposal prank made his stomach turn. He knew when Lucy kissed him in her apartment. He knew when she kissed him in the airplane bathroom. He knew when he followed her into her apartment after they got back from Vegas.

Throughout the whole evening, Ashley talked about her job, her friends, and new things she wanted Tim to try. He zoned out about an hour in, only nodding and mhmm-ing when it seemed appropriate. The longer he sat there with a woman he should be content with, the more he realized that he hated being with her. She was kind and beautiful and intelligent. She would make someone very happy, but that someone wasn’t him.

It was a shitty thing to do, breaking up with him when his eyes were barely open from emergency spinal surgery. But at the same time, Tim felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, like he could breathe easier. The feeling increased tenfold when Lucy came bounding around the corner of his hospital room giving him hell for not telling her about his condition sooner.

It was their first Valentine’s Day together, and despite his usual detest for the holiday, he wanted to do something for Lucy. They both knew it was their last first. It was their last first kiss, their last first time, their last first Valentine’s Day.

Tim found himself standing in front of a glass case, various shiny stones and metals displayed in ornate patterns and designs laid out in front of him. He came into the mom-and-pop jewelry store looking for a necklace, but one of the other cases caught his attention. Round, cushion, oval, round, and princess diamonds sparkled back at him.

If he was being honest with himself, it wasn’t the first time he’d thought about proposing. Of course, he’d caught himself thinking about the little things here and there. But the first time he really knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Lucy was when he told her he got the job at Metro. He got off the phone with Lt. Pine, and she was the first person he sought out. She was the first person he even thought of telling. He was so excited.

Excited.

That wasn’t a word he’d used to describe himself very often, but it was becoming more and more common the more he and Lucy intertwined their lives.

When Tim told Lucy he got the job, she was proud of him, something else he wasn’t used to. She told him he was amazing and looked at him in such a way that she reserved for only him. He reached for her hand in the middle of the bullpen, seeming to forget the dozen other people around them. He almost kissed her, and she almost let him.

At some point, between staring intently at various diamonds and settings, Tim registered that there was someone standing on the other side of the display case.

“Sir?” the man questioned.

“Yes? Hello.”

“Hi, I’m David. Can I help you find anything? Anything specific you’re looking for?” the man asks, extending his hand out toward Tim.

He shakes his hand, “Uh, I was looking for something for my girlfriend,” he replies as he desperately tries to stop the blush from spreading beyond his ears.

Tim Bradford does not get flustered. He does not get distracted by shiny things and thoughts about the future. Until, apparently, he did.

He wasn’t like this with Isabel. He loved her. He loved her fiercely, in a way that almost killed him, but he’d never felt like this. It was foreign to him, but he was getting used to the swarm of butterflies that now called his stomach home.

“Are we talking an engagement ring?” David asked with a raised eyebrow and a kind smile.

A smile of his own broke out across Tim’s features, his hands shoved in his pockets, “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to look.”

“Not what you initially came in for?”

“Um, no. But I’m going to need one sooner or later,” he chuckles.

“Tell me about the girlfriend. What does she like?

David showed Tim a selection of rings; big, small, shiny, sparkly, plain, ornate, gold, and silver. He’d bought a ring before, but this, like everything else with Lucy, felt different. He took a few photos, saving them in a hidden folder on his phone. He and Lucy shared passwords and routinely used each other’s devices, but it wasn’t something he wanted her to see just yet. He left the shop with a collection of hidden pictures and a simple, gold chain with a circular pendant, 7-A-19 inscribed on the back.

“Ok,” he smiled, “I accept your non-apology.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

“So, are we going to dinner or what?”

“We are, but your, uh, outfit is missing a little something.”

“What?!”

Tim grabbed the black box sitting in front of his monitor and stood up, handing it to Lucy.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Lucy smiled that adorable little smile of hers and opened the box, “Oh, wow. It’s beautiful. Did you pick this out yourself?”

“I did,” he replied, feigning offense, “Is that shocking?”

“No, you clearly have good taste,” she quipped as she moved her hair out of the way.

“Thank you.”

Tim clasped the necklace and leaned into her space, grinning at her, admiring her.

His face was a mere six inches from hers when she asked, “Do you want to skip dinner?”

“No, I’m hungry, and you’re going to need that fuel for later.”

Before Lucy could turn around, Tim was gone. She clasped her fingers around the tiny pendant, giggling at his choice of words.

She chased after him in the hall, her heels clicking on the linoleum floor. She caught up to him without much effort and reached for his wrist.

He turned to face her, the corners of his mouth quirking up at the feeling of her hand against his skin. Lucy looked around them, making sure they were free from the prying eyes of their fellow officers. Their relationship was out in the open now, but they still tried to remain (mostly) professional at work.

Her fingers were still gripping the pendant when she peered up at him, “Is there something engraved on this?”  She could tell the back wasn’t entirely smooth.

“Maybe.”

“Come on. Seriously, Tim!”

“Why don’t you take it off and find out?”

“I don’t want to take it off. You just put it on.”

“I’m not going to tell you what may or may not be there.”

“Unclip it for me,” she grumbled as she turned her back to him and lifted her hair out of the way again.

He unclasped it and reclasped it, handing it back to her.

She huffed, attempting but failing to convey any real annoyance, as she took the delicate chain from between his fingers. She flipped it over and looked at the numbers and single letter etched into the metal.

7-A-19

She looked up at him, eyes sparkling in the station’s shitty fluorescent light, “You had our call sign engraved into my necklace?”

Tim’s arms rested on his duty belt, making it hard for him to shrug, but he managed.

“Tim!” she giggled, running her thumb over the numbers and eventually shoving his shoulder.

“Ah, what was that for?”

“You’re just a big softie, aren’t you?”

He could feel heat rising in his ears, but he tried his best to ignore it as he smiled at the woman in front of him.

“I love it. Thank you,” she threw her arms around his neck, the chain dangling from her fingertips as she pulled him down for a kiss.

“You’re welcome,” he managed between his lips fitting against hers.

Lucy commanded that he put the necklace back on her as they broke away.

“You’re very bossy,” he said as she lifted her hair from her neck.

She turned her head just enough to look at him from where he stood behind her, “I love you.”

His hands stilled against her skin, “Oh, my God!” she blinked, “I didn’t mean to say that.”

“Lucy,” he said, almost blankly.

She turned fully toward him, “I mean, I did, but not right now-“

“Lucy-“

“I had this whole speech planned. I was going to tell you after dinner tonight, and af-“

“Luce!”

He was smiling now, “I love you, too.”

“You do?” her voice broke.

“It wasn’t obvious?” he teased.

She shoved him again, “I hate you!”

“You just said you loved me!”

“I guess I did, didn’t I?” she asked rhetorically as her smile grew brighter. “It’s true,” she continued.

“Good.”

“Good,” she declared as he pulled her in for another kiss, his hands on her waist.

“Are you sure you don’t want to skip dinner?”

“Nope. Like I said, fuel,”

He finally managed to put some distance between them, in hopes of resisting the urge to drag her back into his office and lock the door.

“Let me change out, and we can go.”

“Fine,” she faked a pout.

He threw a smile her way before rounding the corner toward the locker room. Lucy found herself running the pads of her fingers over the numbers on the otherwise smooth piece of metal once again. She had a feeling she’d be doing that pretty often.

[no-one-fuck-a-man]

Berry Blues

Season Two

Part Six - (Never Been Kissed) They May Be Friends. But They Will Be Fought Like Foes

Quinn Fabray x Reader

Summary: Your friends caused someone pain, while you threaten pain upon someone else... and your friends.

Word Count: 4,934

WARNINGS:  People doing shitty things, threats

(A/N): And we’re back baby!

-----

He was always over.

Finn.

Practically felt like he lived here half the time. Which only lead to many situations like this one.

"Hey, Rachel, do you have- Oh, for the love of God."

Your eyes quickly moved to be glued to her painted ceiling, after having caught your sister and her boyfriend making out in a compromising position on her bed.

"Y/N, I-"

"Nope. Don't want to hear it. Bye." Spinning on your heel, you hastily took your exit. "You owe me compensation! And for all that is good in this world, use protection!"

The intense need to bleach your eyes was strong after witnessing that for the third time that week.

All you wanted was the textbook she had borrowed.

Things had slowly been getting better between you and the couple. Starting to get back to how they were. The playful, happy atmosphere it used to be.

However, there was the fact that you still had to talk about the situation, and what had led to it. Instead of just sweeping it under the rug and ignoring it.

Just... not now.

You wanted to ignore it for as long as humanly possible. Even if you knew that would be the worst option in the long run.

Finn and Rachel were still confused, and rightfully so.

They understood that what they did hurt you. They expected you to be hurt if you ever found out the truth. They just didn't comprehend why you were so betrayed by it. To the couple, it seemed almost idiotic the way you were reacting, though they would never admit that in fear that your anger would flare, and things would only be worse.

And at the same time, you were never gonna spill the beans about why you felt the way you did.

Even if your sister had an inclination that was on the right path.

After all. Rachel still believed she was psychic.

---

"All right, guys! Let's get down to business," Mr Schuester began the Glee Club lesson, when he spotted your two missing members, Kurt and Tina, walk in, "First, let's welcome back, Noah Puckerman."

Scattered applause sounded, mainly from Santana, Brittany, and Mike, for the boy who scared Artie, causing him to flinch away in reaction.

"Puck. I hope your time in juvie has taught you a lesson or two about right and wrong."

"Are you kidding me?" Puck asked the teacher. "I ruled that place. All I did was crack skulls and lift weights all day."

"Wow, what a catch. Can't believe I ever let you go," Quinn remarked sarcastically from her seat behind Kurt as she played with a pen between her fingers.

You laughed loudly at the blonde's words, throwing your head back, arms tightening in their place folded across your chest with every chuckle.

"And now, drumroll, Finn," your teacher began his announcement, sounding like a game show host, "Because I have in my hand the other competition for Sectionals next month." The club cheered excitedly, as Rachel prepared to write the names down. "First, the acapella choir from the all-boys private school in Westerville, the Dalton Academy Warblers."

"Okay. Hold up. Like a million awesome gay jokes just popped into my head," Santana spoke, unable to keep the smile off of her face.

Mr Schuester ignored her words, instead carrying on with reading your next competition, "And the other team to beat, the hipsters, a first-year club from the Warren Township continuing education program. Now, they are a Glee Club composed entirely of elderly people getting their high school GEDs."

"Is that legal?" Rachel asked sceptically.

"I don't see why it's not." You shrugged. "They're the same as us, just in a different part of life. If we can compete with the same education as them, then so should they."

"How are we supposed to compete against a bunch of adorable old people, though?" Mercedes asked.

"Are you kidding? Brittle bones," Puck pointed out, "Give one of those old ladies a good luck pat on the rear, and it'll shatter her pelvis."

"Maybe let's not assault the elderly, huh?" You squinted over to the boy now glaring at you. "Unless you really do want to go back to juvie."

"Moving on," Mr Schuester continued, "Since it seemed to get you guys jazzed about Sectionals last year, I wanna make this week our second-annual boys versus girls tournament." More celebration from the club. But you only rolled your eyes, knowing how these things tended to go for you and Kurt. "So, split up onto two groups and figure out what songs you're gonna sing," the man finished, pointing in either direction of the choir room, before turning his back on the club.

"Okay, I have mashup ideas in my emergency mashup list," your sister called out to the girls as the group moved to their designated sides of the room. With you remaining seated, letting the others come to you.

"You have an 'emergency mashup list'?" you questioned, but before your sister could answer, the voice of your teacher sounded.

"Kurt, gonna say it again. Boys' team."

"You know, you really should start taking your student's comfort into account," you said as Kurt walked off to the boys' side, disappointed.

"Don't tell me how to teach my lesson, Y/N."

"Well, I apologise for giving you advice on how to make your students happier," you sassed.

This was gonna be a long week.

---

"Look, I'm not tossing the baby out with the bathwater."

"I've totally done that," Brittany said.

Slowly, you turned to face her, with one word on your tongue, "What?"

"We're just making an adjustment," Mr Schuester explained, "Boys, you are doing songs traditionally sung by girl groups. And girls, try some classic rock. Uh, The Who, The Stones."

"Nirvana. Queen. Guns and Roses. AC/DC."

"Exactly." He pointed at you when you listed off some bands. "The more opposite your choice, the more points you get."

"Wait, there's a point system now?"

It took you a few moments to realise that all the girls were looking your way.

"What?" Realisation hit you. "Am I doing all the work now?"

"No," Mercedes said, "But you're the one that knows the most about this kind of music. We definitely need your input."

"And let's be honest, dwarf Berry wouldn't allow anyone but her to be in charge, anyway," Santana added.

"It's not my fault if I have natural leadership skills."

"I'm sure that could be called something else," you joked, getting your sister to glare your way.

---

"I gotta talk to you," Quinn said, walking up to you in the hallway, joining you in your stride.

"What?"

"I think Sam's into Beiste."

"What?"

That got you to stop in place, the girl following suit. People bumped into you thanks to your sudden halt, but you paid them no mind, just staring down at the blonde cheerleader in front of you.

"Are you okay? What's got you thinking this?"

"Do you find her attractive?"

"What?" you repeated, for the third time, only growing more and more confused by Quinn as the seconds ticked by.

"Just answer my question. I've got to know."

"No," you chuckled your answer, "I mean, Coach Beiste is nice and all, but I tend to like girls who I could bench press, not the other way around."

"So, you don't want to sleep with her?" Quinn tried to clarify, her eyebrows rising as she tilted her head forward, pressing for an answer.

"Where the hell is all of this coming from? Of course, I don't want to sleep with her. Let's just say she's not my type, as I said before. What's going on?"

"Nothing," she said, beginning to back away down the hall, "Just wanted to make sure."

"'Make sure' about what? Quinn, what's going on?" No answer, as you watched the girl walk away, her ponytail swaying with every step. "Blondie?!" Still nothing.

With furrowed brows and an open mouth, you were left alone in the middle of the hallway, eternally confused.

You had to find out what was going on.

You didn't have a single good feeling about this.

---

It confused you. The feelings that roared within your chest.

They were reactive and uncontrollable.

You were jealous of Sam's closeness to the girl you wished to call yours, watching from afar as their relationship blossomed into something you envied.

And yet. You still liked the boy. After all, it wasn't his fault. He didn't know. Not about your feelings nor the prior fling you had with the cheerleader. Yet, you were sure if he knew, he would step back, which only made you like him more. Causing those conflicted feelings within you to rage a war against the other.

Which is why you felt guilt, along with satisfaction, when you found the blossoming pair in the midst of some relationship drama, as you were on the hunt for Sam, to walk with him to your shared class.

"I won't get mad at you if you tell me the truth-"

"Oh, that's a lie." You barged into the blonde "couple's" conversation, turning to Sam. "You ready to go to class?"

"Yeah." The boy nodded. Thankful for the escape you gave him from the girl, he hoped to one day, soon call his girlfriend.

"Y/N, please butt out," Quinn said, keeping you and the boy from leaving, "Sam, if you tell me, I-I'll be relieved."

"Sam, welcome to 'Quinn 101'. You see when she does that little half-shrug thing and looks down?" You gestured to the blonde's body as she glared daggers at you. "That means she's lying."

"I'm not lying."

"Really?" the boy challenged, "Because it looks like you're gonna be mad no matter what I say."

"Truth," you called after him when he began walking away, Quinn and yourself moving to follow.

"Do you mind leaving us alone?"

"Hey, me and Sam have a pact. The classes we share, we go there together. And anyway, I think he may need back-up with the rampage you're predictably about to go on. No man left behind!"

Sam threw you a humoured but thankful smile over his shoulder.

"You said another woman's name while you were kissing me."

"Whoa!" you exclaimed, not a care in the world that you had drawn onlookers in the filled hallway to your outcry. Ignoring them entirely, "Okay, I take it back. I'm on her side." You pointed at Quinn, shaking your head at the girl you joked with a, "I would never do that to you." Only she heard the truth lining your tone.

She dramatically rolled her eyes at you, continuing to trail after Sam.

"Look. I get it. She's in a position of power over you, which can be exciting, and you clearly like women who give you a hard time."

"You have something you wanna share there, Quinnie?" your sassed words about her "getting it" was cut off by a realisation cutting into you, "Oh my, God. Is that my type?" you asked yourself from behind the ranting Cheerio, eyes widening as it dawned on you. 'Holy shit, I think that's my type'

Sam spun on his heel in reaction to her words, arms jutted out in front of him, voice masked in hopes other students wouldn't hear, he said, "I'm not cheating on you with my football coach."

"I'm sorry, what now, please?" you paused beside the two, looking between them. "You think he's fucking Beiste? Is this why you were asking me all those weird questions yesterday?"

"What questions?"

"Oh, about-"

"That's not important!" Quinn snapped.

"Look," the boy whispered, moving closer to the blonde so the onlooking students couldn't hear the potentially detrimental conversation.

"Dude, I would watch what you say," you stated, eyes wide and unblinking as you looked at Quinn.

With her head cocked slightly to the side, silently daring the boy to keep talking.

"She has murder in her eyes. She will cut your balls off and feed them to rabid dogs, if you say the wrong thing."

Did the boy heed your warning, though?

No. He did not.

"Can we talk about this in private?"

"Why am I embarrassing you?"

"I'd be embarrassed," you commented, looking around at the many students passing you by.

"It's not what you think."

"What I think is that I'm not putting out for you, so you're getting it wherever you can, including the locker room, with the Beiste."

You had lost count of the number of times your eyes had widened in the past five minutes. Peering past the cheerleader, you spotted the coach she was just ranting about.

Bringing your hand up to the side of your head, you pointed with a jutting finger towards Beiste, muttering to Quinn as you did, "Dude, she's right there."

"What's this?" the coach asked, turning to face your little group when she heard her name spoken, only further spurring on Quinn's anger.

"This is a lovers' quarrel, and it's your fault."

"Blondie, she will snap you over her knee without breaking a sweat. I'd watch what you say," you warned her in a whisper, leaning in close to her ear.

Quinn pushed you away from her, a huff of air leaving you when her elbow connected with your stomach.

"Watch your tone with me, missy. You crap on my led, I'll cut it off."

"What did you do?" you hissed over to Sam.

"I didn't do anything."

You gestured your hand out to the two women.

"Uh, I beg to fucking differ."

"I'll leave you two," Quinn said, backing up. And strutting past Mr Schue.

"Uh, I'm here too? Quinn?" Pointing over your shoulder with your thumb, you asked Sam, "The hell is up with her, with this shit?

"Everything okay?"

"God, don't sneak up on me like that," you said, jumping back at Mr Schuester's curious words. Moving aside to let the teacher in on the conversation.

Beiste was speechless in reaction to the man's question. More confusion for you and the two adults came not a second later in the form of your friend.

"Stay away from my woman." The boy glared at her before miming that he was watching his coach.

"Mikey? What-?"

"What the hell is going on around here?"

"I was thinking the exact same thing, coach."

---

Your curiosity on the whole Beiste thing wasn't sated, as Mr Schuester had sent you away in favour of talking with Sam and Mike alone. Considering you were in the dark about the situation, just as much as he was, and he wouldn't be able to get any answers out of you.

So, here you were, hours later, sitting in the choir room with the girls as you all prepared for the competition against the boys.

"The boys beat us the last time we competed against them. And we've gotta bring the noise hard this time."

"To be fair, they didn't officially beat us," Quinn countered Mercedes' point, "We got busted for vitamin D possession before the vote."

"Blondie's right," you said, mildly distracted by the patch you were sewing onto the back of your leather jacket, "Although, we can't really take any blame for that, 'cause we didn't take any. 'Cause, she was pregnant, and I'm... smart."

"Wait. Something's definitely wrong," Santana spoke suddenly, "Why isn't Rachel talking?"

A thread covered Brittany was next to voice her remark on your sister's silence.

"Yeah, she should totally be bossing us around right now."

"The idea of the assignment was to do the opposite of what we normally do," Rachel pointed out as she tried to thread cotton through the small hole of the needle.

After the debacle of an outfit, she wore during 'Theatricality' week last year had led you into teaching your sister how to sew.

Which you regretted as soon as you started.

But she got a grasp on the basics, so you would consider that a mission successful.

"I'm just trying to stick to the lesson plan, which is proving nearly impossible since you're glueing those sequins on backwards."

Slowly, Santana turned to glare past your seat behind Quinn and Brittany's chairs and right at your sister. Watching as she pointed and yelled.

"Spies!"

Looking up, you spotted Puck and Artie.

"I wouldn't worry about them, Rach. Maybe Artie a little. Definitely not Puck."

"Lighten up," the mohican man told your sister, ignoring your dig at him, "We're here to talk to Santana and Brittany."

Santanna hummed when the boys drew close, "So, how does it feel to be a free man?"

"He misses his cellmate," you spoke dryly, "They had a torrid love affair." Gaining small chuckles from some of the girls in the room.

"All I can say is that I don't want a long-term relationship with either of you," Artie stated randomly, "Especially Brittany, since I'm not in love with her."

"Smooth man," you mumbled.

"Do you guys wanna like, go out to dinner tonight?" Brittany asked.

"Not really."

"Oh," Santana spoke sadly to Puckerman's flat-out denial.

"Tell you what. You two show up at Breadstix tomorrow night at around seven. and if we don't find hotter chicks to date tonight, we might show up."

"I'm gonna punch him," you told Quinn.

"You are totally cool."

"Awesome," Santana and Brittany said. Drawing everyone's attention to them. Looking at the two Cheerios like they were out of their minds.

"What?" you asked as the boys made their way from the room, "Are you high-? Oh my, God. They're on vitamin D again."

"We're not on vitamin D, dumbass," Santana said.

"Then what the fuck was that?!" you asked, pointing a hand to the door Artie and Puck left through.

"It was arranging a double date."

"It was insanity. Is what it was."

---

"Thanks for this, Y/N."

"What happened?" you asked the boy, with arms outstretched, only adding to your question.

You had been walking to your car after a tiring day at work, fitting in some planters and benches at a local care facility. When your phone vibrated in your pocket.

It was Artie, and he needed your help.

So, you made a detour to Breadstix on your way back home.

The sky was almost black as you walked through the restaurant parking lot towards the boy waiting for you by the entrance.

"Puck and I took Santana and Brittany out on a double date."

"Yeah, I gathered from that act a few days ago in the choir room. But, why'd they leave you here?" you asked, beginning to push him towards your parked car.

"Puck wanted to 'dine and dash', but I wussed out and paid for the meal."

"So, they left you here because you have a soul?" you clarified, before sighing, "You did the right thing, Artie. There's a reason why Puckerman isn't really liked around town. You keep doing the right thing, wheels."

"Thanks, Y/N."

"Anything, buddy. Anytime."

---

Applause and cheers filled the room after your performance with the girls.

"Very, very, impressive," Mr Schuester complimented, "But Y/N, I wish you were more involved in the performance."

"What you on about? I was playing the guitar the whole time," you replied, "That guitar solo wasn't easy, you know."

"I think I, along with the guys, would have liked to see you up there on the platform with the girls."

"Listen, Mr Schue, This is the best you're gonna get. Considering this makes me uncomfortable, and you know that."

"Well, anyway," the teacher moved on awkwardly, "What was it that made you guys choose these songs?"

"Well-"

You cut your sister off as you place the guitar back on its stand, stepping towards the girls, "Me. It was all me."

Before anything else could be said, Becky Jackson entered the room, running to the Spanish teacher with a note in her hand.

Brittany moved from under your arm to go speak with Santana, leaving you with the other blonde you had thrown your arm over.

"You look really cute like this, you know?" you complimented her.

"Do I?"

A few nods. "Yeah."

"You look pretty good yourself."

"If my bike was ready, I'd offer to take you for a ride on it. We are both dressed for it."

"You won't catch me dead on one of those things." Quinn pointed at you.

"Still too scared?"

"Too dangerous."

"You know I'd be safe." You smiled. "Especially if you were on the back."

"You're not gonna convince me otherwise," she said with a laugh, shaking her head.

While you and the blonde were talking, making your way out of the room, neither of you noticed the look Kurt and Mercedes shared at your closeness.

The next time you were in the choir room wasn't as pleasant.

"Well, I genuinely hope you guys are happy, because Coach Beiste has quit."

"Hold up. What?"

"Wait. What?" Finn asked, just as confused as you, "That's terrible."

"Yeah, that's not what we want," Sam added.

"That's the opposite of what we want," Artie was next to speak from beside you, "The football team was actually winning."

"Well, you better put your heads together and find a way to get her back, fast, because I am actually ashamed of you," Mr Schuester's tone turned angered now, "You really hurt someone who is a great addition to this school."

"Whoa." You held up your hand. "I don't appreciate somebody being ashamed of me and telling me that I hurt someone when I didn't even do anything, to begin with."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. What exactly did we do?" your sister asked, not appreciating the teacher's words nor tone either.

"No, no. It's us," her boyfriend cleared it up for everyone who was confused. "The boys."

"And Tina," Mike added.

"Tina?" you asked, confused, looking behind you at the girl.

Finn started to explain what was going on, his words and movements uncomfortable during his admittance.

"We sort of figured out that picturing the Beiste while making out was even better than a cold shower." Then he rushed to save himself from embarrassment, in front of his girlfriend, "Uh- I mean, I-I don't... ever."

In a cough, you said, "The mail." Gaining a glare from the tall boy.

Then his words registered with you.

"Wait. You do what?! Do you know how insulting that is to someone? And then you expect them not to feel bad about it when they find out? The hell is wrong with you guys?"

"Can I just say, this is what happens when people don't put out," Santana said, "If everyone put out, we would have a winning football team."

"Shut up, San. People can have sex if they do or don't want to."

"Do you have this problem that the guys do?" she asked you.

'We have sex enough for you to full-well know that answer'

"I really don't want to hear this," Rachel protested, from her seat.

Smirking at your sister's distress, you answered the question, "No. Strangely enough, I can control myself. And even if I did, it wouldn't matter because I can do it multiple times. And if I had to "cool down" I would be normal and think of my grandma, or dead puppies, or something."

Mr Schuester had grown uncomfortable with your words, but before he could speak, Principal Figgins entered the choir room.

"William. I need to see you and Noah Puckerman in my office, please."

"Oh, God, Puckerman's going back to juvie. There is a God!"

"Shut up, Berry," the boy grumbled as he walked down the platforms.

"Send me a postcard!"

---

You were calm.

Everything was fine.

Seriously. Everything was truly fine.

That was until you spotted Karofsky being his douchebag of a self, pushing a kid up against the metal fence lining the outdoor staircase, as Kurt watched on, on the way to your next class.

Putting two and two together, you quickly sprung into action and rushed down the stairs to help the boys out.

"You have to stop this!" Kurt yelled, trying to push Karofsky off of the random boy.

The bully was surprised when suddenly he was the one pressed up against the chain wall, with you bearing down on him.

Unknown to the blonde onlooker, who followed behind you on the stairs.

"You leave them alone, you hear me?" you told him, pointing in his face, "You leave Kurt and-" A glance up and down at the stranger wearing a black and red school uniform. "This kid, I don't know alone, or else I'll pull a Sue Sylvester and push you down these stairs."

"No, you won't," a voice suddenly sounded behind you.

A voice you knew.

A hand wrapped into the worn denim of the jacket you wore, using that to tug you away from the boy you had pressed up against the makeshift wall and down the stairs, you had just threatened to push him down.

Peering over your shoulder, you spotted Quinn Fabray.

"What are you doing?" you almost sneered, pulling away from the hold she had on you, straightening out your jacket.

Yet she still pulled you along, directing you to walk away from where you could potentially do some serious damage to the boy.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"I was stopping Karofsky from bullying Kurt and some random kid."

"By threatening to push him down the stairs?" she came closer to hiss at you.

"Did you really think I was gonna do that?"

"No, of course not. But he doesn't know that, does he?"

"So, what? Is this you trying to tell me that you care if he's scared or not?"

"No. I don't care about Karofsky." Quinn rolled her eyes at you. "I care about you. I care about you going to juvie because he tells someone about it."

Things were silent for a few seconds until you finally spoke, "I wouldn't go to juvie for that."

With a sigh, the blonde moved to stop in front of you, with a hand pressed against your abdomen.

"Y/N, contrary to what you may sometimes believe, I do care about you. You can't go around threatening people. I don't want you to get into trouble. You're worth so much more than that."

You scoffed in reaction to her words. Shaking your head lightly and turning your face away from her. Not believing that she thought of you that way, thanks to your complicated relationship with her.

"Hey." A hand gripped the sides of your jaw, pulling you back to face her, it dropping to your chest as she continued, "You believe in me. That I can obtain my dreams. You told me so yourself. I believe the same for you. So, don't let a jerk like Karofsky mess up your future. Because he's not worth it. Okay?"

Quinn waited for you to say something.

However, you only gave her a relinquished nod of agreement. Unable to meet her eyes as you did.

"Good," she stated with a smile. Hand on your chest, moving to wrap around the collar of your jacket, "Now, come on. Let's get to class."

"God. What is it with you and dragging me around, Fabray?"

---

"I don't get it. It's boys against the girls, but... what does the winner get?"

"Money," you joked from where you stood, leaning against the stacks of books beside your teacher.

"Actually," Finn clarified, "We were hoping for your forgiveness."

"The girls and I don't need that." A shrug. "Except for Tina. You should really be up there with them," you called over to the girl.

Sam cleared his throat, bringing the attention back to the tuxed boys

"Yeah. We just wanted to apologise for hurting your feelings."

"Coach Beiste, we think you're awesome," Finn told the woman, "And even though you're all hard and tough on the outside, it doesn't mean you're not the opposite on the inside."

"Like a chocolate turtle," Sam said.

"Totally. You're nougatty. We totally get that now."

"Stop comparing her to food, dude," you told Finn. Mr Schue nodded beside you, "Plus, you're making me hungry."

"You're like a mashup," the boy said.

"Why don't you guys just get to the song?" the Spanish teacher prompted before the dopey boy could compare the coach to anything else.

"Totally." Artie's eyes were screaming his thanks to the man. "This mashup is dedicated to you, coach. hard and badass on one hand and soft and girlie on the other."

"Yeah, and we hope it makes you smile, 'cause when you smile, you're pretty, and it lights up the room," Puckerman added, "Seriously."

"Also, if you don't like it and don't accept our apology, we're afraid that Y/N may kick our asses," Arte continued, turning all of the attention to you as you cracked your knuckles in preparation, glare upon your face at the boys- And Tina.

"Music, guys!" Mr Schue rushed.

The performance ended with panting boys and cheers.

The football coach nodded her head with a big smile across her face.

"It was really good. I liked it." Beiste rose to her feet. "Thank you."

Artie waved the boys and their coach into a group hug, gaining another round of applause from the group.

"So, are we forgiven?" Sam asked once they pulled away.

"You're forgiven."

"So, no punching?"

Beiste turned you, shaking her head. "No punching.

"Damn it," you hissed to yourself, moving your arm in a 'rats!' motion.

"You really wanted to beat up your friends that badly?" Quinn asked with a smile.

"Sometimes they annoy me!"

-----

Prev Part | Next Part

[stevenbasic]

GITJ Post 260: First Date, Epilogue: Watch Out Missy

Randi Mongillo stood behind her friend Melissa at the squat rack, ostensibly spotting the taller woman but really just marveling at her friend’s enormous ass and hoping to god she could actually do this insane amount of weight by herself. If she was actually called on to help her out in her rep Randi wasn’t sure she could do anything. How many of those heavy plates did Missy have on for this set? Ten? Twelve???

“I can feel it. He wants me so big,” Melissa grunted, coming up from a low squat to push the incredible amount of weight upward. It was incredible, how she could even speak as she did this. It didn’t even seem that heavy to her, and yet…god. Even though the gym was relatively empty, here before 8am on a Saturday morning, they’d attracted a few respectful stares. Women looked on in admiration, proud of their gym-bunny sister, seeing what she could do and becoming inspired. Men, the few that remained members here (the whole “vulni-chic” thing had really caught on, and muscles on men were now wayyyy out of style), mostly gaped in awe…she was lifting certainly more than any of them had ever done.

“Yeah well it looks like he’s gonna get what he wants,” Randi quipped in admiration, watching her friend drop low to another squat, “Just remember, though, Missy, why you haven’t dated anyone…remember what happens…” 

Melissa grunted in acknowledgement, vaguely recalling her few previous ‘boyfriends’. They all seemed so silly, now, compared to Dr. J. It was kinda hard to even picture what they looked like. “I get it Randi, I do,” she said, pushing out another rep of this godawful amount of metal.

“Good, good,” Randi replied. Unused to having to be the voice of reason, she sometimes felt like she was dealing with a kid, a teenager when she was dealing with Melissa. Didn’t she remember the guy from the DMV? Or that aggressive jerk she talked about from High School? How, when she was with these guys, she started to…change. Not in good ways, either. Didn’t that make her nervous, starting up a new relationship? “I don’t want to see you get, like, too deep, get hurt…” She goggled again at her friend's huge butt as she rose from her last rep. “Christ Missy those things are like planets…” she couldn’t help but extol.

“Haha thanks, but this is different. This feels right…” Melissa finally replied, casually racking the bar with a clamorous >>CLANG!<< that filled the large room, plates clanking, “...it’s at the right time.” She’d just done 14 reps of what not-too-long-ago had been her max. And, haha, apparently the world record, according to Rachel the gym lady. It was about as much as the equipment here could handle, and nowhere near what she knew she’d be able to do when they really pushed her at Evolution, where she was - sigh - supposed to be, like, now. They’d called this morning, wanted her there for the rest of the weekend, for more “testing”. She knew they were just pissed about last night. Or nervous. Either way, they could wait.

“Well, you two make a nice couple,” Randi quipped as Melissa stepped out of the rack, allowing her to get in. Melissa began pulling most of the plates off the bar, of course, for her friend, but was proud of Randi. Even she was getting new gains here at the gym, admittedly not always her favorite place in the world. “You certainly seem to like one another,” Randi added, watching in quiet wonder as Melissa moved the heavy metal disks around like they were made of styrofoam, “You…do know you were on camera whole time?”

“Yeah that’s the only reason I’m not totally pregnant right now,” Melissa laughed, pulling off all but the last large plate, “Omigod I’m not kidding. I think he made me ovulate! I have to figure out a way to turn that camera off if I want, the one in his room.” She picked up two 25-pound plates, again like they were toys. “Who’s the best person to ask, without asking, y’know…her?”

“I guess Marisela,” Randi said, nodding at Melissa, who added the new weight to the bar. One-eighty five was a lot but boys love a big booty so here we go. “I think you should be able to do it from your phone.”

Melissa watched, encouraging her friend as Randi was able to push out six reps, really good for her! She loaded the bar back up, until it once again began to flex from the weight, and got back into position. Randi was playing with her phone, behind her, saying she wanted to post something for the practice.

“You are NOT going to be posting pictures of my butt, are you?” Melissa laughed, even as she saw the flash of Randi’s phone reflected in the bar in front of her.

“Just getting more clicks, boss,” Randi quipped, laughing again…

============================

Patreon? Yeah I have one.

[spaceprincessem]

okay, y’all delivered and I’ll have to write a few more, but this is what I quickly wrote on my work break. Inspired by the infamous pic of Dick and Kory in the bowling alley. A little bit of Mar’i mention and jealous Dick because that is my jam

@escapism-through-imagination @meetmeunderthestarrynight @ambelle Leaving Gotham behind is easy.

Dick thinks, maybe it shouldn’t be. Not when the streets are soaked with their blood, the palm of their hands stained with the dirt and grime one can only find in that desolate city. It shouldn’t be easy to shed the darkness, the growing, festering feeling that dug into his bones, holding him hostage in the one place he was so desperate to get away from. It shouldn’t be easy to find his breath, the weight pressing against his sternum slowly, but surely lifting as Gotham got further and further in the rearview mirror.

But it is.

And maybe, that’s okay. 

He’s learning to let himself have the things that he wants, even if he doesn’t think he fully deserves them yet. He finds warmth in Rachel’s teasing smile when she says his music taste is super 2000s (Seriously, Dick, Welcome to the Black Parade, you are such a cliché). He laughs at Gar’s corny jokes, argues good naturally with Tim about food truck rankings, and lets Connor pick out weird snacks at the gas station for all of them to try. They stop at the Grand Canyon and Yellowstone because Kory wanted to see the bison and he’s never really been one to deny her anything that makes her happy. 

His cheeks ache from the grin curling in the corners of his mouth as he snaps a picture of Kory and Rachel in front of the geyser. He tries not to think about how Kory’s smile, bright and blinding like the sun, looks just like the little girl in his dreams. How they have the same nose. How her eyes were a warm, dark brown that Dick can find in the mirror's reflection. He tucks the dream away, the sound of her voice, small and innocent — daddy, come here — in the space between his ribs so it can’t bleed into his heart. And when he finds himself side by side with Kory, arms brushing, fingers inches apart, she asks what he’s smiling about and he just tells her, nothing, I’m just happy to be here.

He doesn’t anticipate the truth, or at least, part of it to come spilling out in a bowling alley in Ohio. 

“Dick,” Rachel nudges him with her foot under the table, a shitty piece of pizza from the concession stand hanging from her greasy fingers, “you know you can’t make people drop dead just by looking at them, right?”

Dick blinks, pulling his gaze away to look at her. He’s surprised to see Gar sitting just next to her, sipping obnoxiously loud from his pop with an amused expression. Tim and Connor are busy trying to outdo each other in weird, bowling moves on the lanes and Kory, well, she’s up at the counter smiling at the guy who is very obviously shooting his shot.

Dick frowns, “What are you talking about?”

“Seriously,” Gar asks, his neon green straw dropping from his parted lips, “that’s what you’re going with?”

Dick’s frown only deepens. The kids are too perceptive, something they’ve, annoyingly, picked up from Kory over the past year. 

“She’s not interested,” Rachel says as she wipes her hands on a napkin, and Dick thinks his heart stops for exactly three seconds before she puts him out of his misery, “in that guy, I mean.”

Dick slowly turns to look back in Kory’s direction. He likes to think that he knows Kory, that she’s one of the few people in this world, hell the universe, that can see right through all of his defenses, all of his walls. That she knows when to push and how to pull. He likes to think that he’s mapped her smile, memorized the laughter lines, and her nervous ticks — like she fiddles with her rings or runs a hand through her hair. That he knows when she’s wearing a mask and when she’s silently asking for help. Now that he looks, really looks past the ugly bite of jealousy that swells in the back of his throat, he knows that Rachel is right. Kory is leaning away, her smile polite, but tight as she nods her head, finger tapping against the counter impatiently. He knows that she doesn’t need rescuing, that Kory could drop kick him into the sun if she really wanted to, but he’s already moving before his brain has caught up with the rest of his body.

“Hey,” he says, slides into her space easily, like he belongs there, “Gar and Rachel want to do a double team for the next round, winners get to pick where we go for dessert.”

The guy who is flirting with Kory sends a heated glare in Dick’s direction. Dick can tell he’s being assessed, wondering how much of a challenge he posses, but if the sparkling and bemused look in Kory’s eyes in anything to go by as she leans into Dick, hand squeezing his bicep gently, then the poor guy knows that it’s not really a competition at all. 

“You could have told me you had a boyfriend,” the guy pouts as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“You didn’t ask,” Kory shrugs and her hand drops to Dick’s, fingers curling into his own before she tugs him back towards the kids, “nice meeting you.”

Dick thinks he hears the guy mumble tease, but his brain kind of short circuited when Kory took his hand and he can not be blamed for the smug smile he throws in the guys direction. Out of his peripheral he sees Kory roll her eyes and Gar and Rachel give them the double thumbs up from the score table. She pulls him over to the sitting area behind their lanes, just out of earshot of the kids. 

“So,” Dick says before he can stop himself, “boyfriend?”

Kory laughs, leaning forward and Dick’s eyes do not drop to her lips, but his breath does hitch in his throat and he snaps his big mouth shut before he shows his hand.

“You didn’t ask,” she says again, and there’s something else there in those pools of emerald, a challenge that sets fire at the base of his spine.

Dick hums, a low, soft noise in the back of his throat as he sweeps his thumb over the back of her hand, her skin warm under the pad of his fingers.

“You’re allowed to, if you want,” Kory’s expression is gentler now, but she doesn’t shy away from him. Kory’s always been someone to know what she wants, even when she didn’t really know herself, and Dick admires that about her.

“Allowed to what?” He breathes, the words more of a press of air between his teeth.

And this feels far too intimate for a rundown bowling alley in the middle of Ohio. With its faded neon planets on the carpet, the smell of popcorn and fake nacho cheese, the pulsing sound of pop music he doesn’t really recognize, and the laughter of their found family drifting over the crash of bowling balls into pins. 

“Ask.” Kory says simply.

And maybe it is. Maybe this can be easy, like leaving Gotham. Maybe he can lean forward and close the distance between them like he’s thought about since they fell back into each other’s life. Maybe he can follow the invisible string tied around his heart, endless pulling him wherever Kory goes. 

“Okay,” Dick replies, voice barely above a whisper.

He kisses the corner of her mouth first, tentative and sweet, and feels the flutter of her eye lashes against his cheek. The sound she makes sends a shiver down his spine and he slots his mouth against hers, licking hot into her mouth just because he wants to, because he can. She responds in kind, fingers curling into the hair at the base of his neck. For a moment he forgets where he is — when he is — his own goddamn name if he’s being honest, until the wolf whistles and cheers from the kids remind him that they are still very much in public.

Dick groans as he drops his head against Kory’s shoulder while she shakes with laughter. To his absolute embarrassment he hears Rachel say pay up and he steels himself to look Kory in the eye, his cheeks as red as her hair.

“Your kids,” he mutters.

“Our kids,” she corrects, kissing his forehead.

And yeah that sounds right.

[vodkacheesefries]

Me: I want to squat 400lbs for my next competition in January

Also me: Oops I squatted 402lbs Sept. 29th and now I have no idea what my January competition will look like

[writtenjewels]

Switched part 8

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

“Where were you last night?” The question popped out of his mouth as soon as he and Jason were close enough to talk. The guard's face turned a little red and he turned his head aside. “Dar wasn't upset,” Eric mentioned. “So don't worry about Salim getting in trouble.”

“Yeah. Salim said it'd be all right.” Jason turned back to Eric. “What about you and Lord al-Basri? The fuck is goin' on there?”

“I really don't know.” Last night after parting from the man, Eric's body had echoed with the feel of Dar's weight pressing him against the door. The way that warm hand felt traveling down his side. Primal desire had stirred with the need for intimate touch.

“It's your business,” Jason shrugged. “I ain't gonna say anything.” Eric nodded gratefully. In truth, his feelings concerning Lord al-Basri were very confusing.

Though he never considered being with other men before, as a man of science Eric was always open to explore and experiment. There was certainly physical appeal to the way Dar kissed him and the feel of the man's hands and body. But there was also their conversations, Dar's many attempts at teaching Eric “languages”, and the fact that Eric was comfortable talking and being around Dar. Eric would be happy spending the afternoon teaching Dar to play Minesweeper or walking with him around the lake.

And Eric called last night a date. There was no getting around that.

“All right, people,” Rachel spoke up. “We have a meeting with Lord al-Basri in two hours. I want everyone prepared and in formal attire. We want to impress him. Eric, Nick, don't forget to leave time in your presentations for me to translate.”

Eric wondered if he should tell her that he already talked about his work with Dar, and the man seemed to follow along without translation. When you speak of your passion, you are beautiful. His heart beat faster remembering those words. After their heated kiss last night, it would be strange to be so formal around Dar.

– – –

Admittedly Dar moved the schedule of ambassador meetings around so he would see the Americans first. It was a flimsy excuse to see Eric again. When it was Eric's turn, Dar noticed that the presentation was much more stiff than when Eric talked through his work last night. It was all about what the software did and how it could be used, nothing of Eric's enthusiasm for the work or his excitement during the process.

In short, what Dar heard at the meeting was enough to satisfy the ruler of a palace but not nearly enough to satisfy a man with growing affection toward the presenter.

“Delegate King,” he called. “Will you stay a moment longer?” Eric paused, but so did Rachel.

[Is something wrong?] she asked in Arabic.

“A moment with your scientist, please,” Dar requested in English. “Alone. My guard can translate.” Rachel pursed her lips in displeasure. Dar stared her down until she finally nodded and left the room. Eric turned to him expectantly. “Your other talk was better,” Dar told him.

“To be fair,” Eric responded, “I wrote that presentation thinking I would give it to the lord of this palace. I didn't think you'd care about my passion.”

“I care chiefly about your passion,” Dar argued. Eric's eyes went wide and his face flushed. Dar smirked at him. “Second date tonight,” Dar suggested. Eric didn't answer right away. “Eric,” Dar prodded him.

“Is that what this is, then?” he finally asked. “We're dating?” Dar moved closer. When Eric was still, Dar lifted a hand to touch the American's face. His fingers slid up into the blonde hair.

“What you call two who enjoy each other, and want to spend time together.”

“Using logic on me.” Eric wrinkled his nose. “How do you know me so well?”

“I pay attention.” He pressed his lips delicately against Eric's. The response was immediate as Eric made the kiss more defined. Dar's fingers pushed farther into Eric's hair to keep their lips together. They broke apart, Eric flushed and breathing hard.

“I should, um... they're waiting for me.”

“I know.” Dar brushed his fingers one last time through Eric's hair to make sure it looked messy. He wanted that woman to see her ex-husband in this state and have her wonder. “Second date, Eric?” he mentioned hopefully. “Meet me in the garden.”

“I met a handsome guard there a few days ago,” Eric mused. “I remember the place.” He slipped out of Dar's reach and headed out into the hall. Dar let out a sigh.

So he was 'dating' an American man. It was a surprise, to say the least.

[antiloreolympus]

5 Anti LO Asks

(Note: All of these asks are before episode 206 (Season 2 finale) so some may be dated.) 1. it's always privileged ppl who are LO's biggest fans because they can see themselves in persephone's shoes :/ meanwhile nymphs are actively looked down upon and its written off as "funny" or "deserved" (minthe deserved better)

this comic sucks lol

2. I see a lot of people say the early art was more detailed but tbh it really wasn't? the quality was very loose and inconsistent, but what made it interesting was it was more fantasy like with strong composition and use of color/contrast (which LBR here, it's a few more swipes of a brush, it not that much more work if at all) which makes it's decline into such flat, static poses and colors all the more jarring. Her style has if anything become more complicated technical-wise and its worse for it.

3. What’s confusing to me about Eris’ design (wow she really only showed up for two episodes huh) is why does she look like a off brand harpy? Why do the rest of her family just look like people but she’s the random one out? Hell, why in general does it seem Rachel’s only extent into anything beyond boxy man/tiny and curvy woman is at best wings and maybe some horns? She clearly struggles with same faces/bodies yet does nothing to tell anyone apart. It’s so weird and lazy.

4. See it's funny because Rachel is framing Apollo as bad for loving his mother and being loyal to her, but Hades is framed as good for being so loyal to his mother who quite literally gave up trying to protect him and happily had TWO MORE kids with his father while he was imprisoned in his stomach. I get their situations are different and all but Rhea has done nothing to deserve such unquestioned loyalty and love while we're supposed to hate Leto because Rachel said so.

5. So with the new episodes - canonically 10 yrs have passed right? So Persephone should be 30 now (cause I think the last time we saw her she was 20?) - but she looks and acts the same? (Actually I take it back she seems to have regressed character wise) And yes, I know there's that thing RS set up where Persephone stops aging so she looks the same (so she doesnt have to draw Persephone any different / older I guess) but after 10 yrs we see her.. Basically mope around, talk to a tree of Hades and act like the same teen she was yrs ago. She does start to take ownership of her actions then Immediately pulls back on the statement with a very haunty look on her face as she states "well its not All my fault" which semes to imply she doesnt think she should be punished for the murder she commited?? And then she goes on to talk about how she thinks her green hands are a turn off as though this is her biggest concern? And later we see her mope about then act excited about her ears getting pierced so it doesnt seem like shes taking her job of regulating spring very seriously. And she asks zeus to send a letter to Hades but doesn't ask to see her aging mortal mother? Not even the nymphs seem concerned about Demeters whereabouts cause their too busy fawning over the idea of persephone having sex with Hades At Last (which is implied when they give her a condom - like props for trying to promote safe sex but still).

Things that seemed to be big deals also no longer seem to hold weight? Like minthe and Daphne are fixed no problem? As far as I know (I haven't seen the fp chapters) We don't even get to see persephones reaction to Daphne being turned into a tree nor minthes reaction to being non-plantified? Shes just chilling and is her usual sassy self?? Shes not complaining to Zeus that shes stuck with the woman who almost killed her??

Aside from that we have Apollo and Artemis being crowned and Hebe looks lile a carbon copy of her mother...

And I'm gonna actually push back on that earlier anon ask - yes techncially Artemis could have asked for anything but I doubt Zeus would've followed through with Artemis' request if she had asked for persephones banishment to be lifted. Like it would be too easy an out for Persephone plot wise so I guess she banished herself? (Idk maybe Artemis knows he wouldn't do it and her self esteem is so low that this is the next best thing in her mind.) Like I think its the same reason why Apollo asked for Leto to... Be unbanished .... but didnt ask for Persephone to be made into his wife because I don't think that's something Zeus would have budged on despite saying they Could ask for anything, he means within limits that he set. Could he do it? Sure. Would he do it? Doubtful.

[pickledpascal]

Love’s Train

Chapter One: 2014: A Memory

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 1.1k

Love’s Train Masterlist

Next Chapter  |

Soul marks. They appear, either with a searing pain or you simply don’t notice them at all, when you meet your soulmate. Depending on where your soulmate might be from, it will be in their language. There’s this little urban legend that if the pain of your mark is strong then your bond with that person will last longer. Not everyone ends up with their soulmate. Sometimes they die or perhaps don’t end up choosing each other. 

It just depends on the person.

And as far as any human is concerned, no Cybertronian has ever had a soul mark or soulmate. Certainly not one that was human either.

It was during High School when Quinn learned that all the Autobots would be subject to exile. She never really cared as to why. They were the humans friends. Why would they do that to them? Maybe she couldn’t comprehend it when she was younger or maybe she did, her brain just wouldn’t let her agree with it. The Autobots fought for them and this is how they were going to be treated in return? Something in Quinn’s head screamed it was wrong.

She was fifteen, in her sophomore year when she learned the news. It was cast on the school news at 7 am sharp, like always. Her friends didn’t seem to care either way, although a little bummed they couldn’t have a self driving car. Quinn herself was a lot smaller in frame, her arms were weak with barely any blemishes on them besides a few freckles and one scar on her hand from an oven and her hair…. Well, it was its natural color–brown. Her green eyes were hidden behind some chunky, bright pink framed glasses that she would eventually hate.

One of Quinn’s friends–Jess–a girl shorter than Quinn that had dark curly hair, a deep complexion, and dark brown eyes, pursed her lips. “I mean, can you imagine having one of those bots as a car? You don’t have to drive yourself to school anymore! Just let it do it!” She said excitedly. 

“I’m sure it would be fun.” Quinn nodded solemnly, adjusting one of the straps of her backpack. “Get to talk to your car like a friend.” 

Rachel, another friend of Quinn’s, nudged her arm. “You already do that, Q.” She teased softly. She had long, straight black hair and almost whiskey-like eyes. “Red is just a little guy, we’re best friends!” She mocked Quinn’s voice, earning her a shove. 

None of them had their soul marks yet. It differed from person to person when they would get their marks but the average time was in high school, usually from the ages of fourteen to sixteen. They were all square in the middle of that range. Fifteen. Sure, there were people who would get theirs only after going to college but even then, it was like a weight was lifted. Their parents didn’t want their children to end up alone. There were extreme cases where people’s lives would end without ever having a soul mark. When it happened, it would be all over the news. Fear clutching onto the minds of parents.

Rachel asked with a light smile, “Okay but which one is the coolest? 3, 2, 1–”

“Bumblebee!” Quinn and Jess answered at the same time.

Rachel laughed and nodded, “He might be the fastest too. I mean, I don’t know what the truck one can do but I don’t think he’s that cool.” She shrugged.

Lots of things regarding the Autobots were classified. That meant Egypt was barely covered on the news, never even mentioning the Autobot leader at all. Optimus was meant to be a secret, one that only the most trusted of government agents would know about. All the public knew was that a blue truck with red flames was a part of the Autobots team even though they’ve never really seen him transform. 

“We don’t know anything about him so maybe he is.” Quinn pursed her lips as she fiddled with her shoes–they were all sitting on the floor in the corner of the main hall of the school. Her shoes were a simple black and white sneaker, nothing too special.

Jess laughed softly, “Not as cool as Bumblebee. He’s a fast car! What’s better than that?” She countered with a light smile.

Before Quinn could answer, the bell rang for the first period of the day. Her and her friends got up, waved goodbye, and went to their classes. They didn’t even know about anything happening outside school, the war happening in Chicago… yet again. But to them, that didn’t matter. What mattered was simple stuff. Getting good grades, not getting detention, learning to drive, maybe getting a new car, making sure you had an open parking spot–yeah, simple stuff.

Life would change, though. They would change and grow. Jess and Rachel would get their soul mark by the end of the school year, leaving Quinn behind. It was… weird. The sort of exclusion people without their soul mark had. It was like she was socially excluded from everything. She had to work even harder than one with a mark. And she did. Everything Quinn wanted to do, she excelled at. 

Gym wasn’t the best thing, though. It felt like torture, muscles aching after each period and then she had to continue like she didn’t want to just collapse in the middle of the hallway. But Quinn made it through. And she always would.

There were moments, times when she didn’t want to work so hard. Quinn wanted to be normal. She wanted a mark. She didn't care if she would see her soulmate again, she just wanted a mark. She wouldn’t have to get straight As or go through another look of dismay in her mother’s eyes. Quinn couldn’t take it. It was too much. She needed to escape somehow. 

Well. Cars were an escape. Her brother was one of the only people who treated her like a normal person. He had a small car collection going, one that he would let Quinn work on whenever she needed to. The only rule was that she couldn’t touch his Mustang. He was the only one allowed to work on it since it was one of the only cars he drove on a daily basis. And, well, sometimes when Quinn switched a part out, it wouldn’t work properly at first.

The only thing that would make it better in Quinn’s eyes was if she could work on a Cybertronian. She wanted to help but they were being hunted and she’d rather not endanger her family. 

Later down the line, maybe….

[ecmlol]

Dick in daddy mode part 3

It's Wednesday

Dick is a little bit nervous about Bruce's visit. Conner is still on the fence about everything. Dick has tried gentle  persuasion on him. kory "nicely "told him to back off".

Dick and kory in the training room practicing when Bruce is walks with a trail of kids behind him talking his ear off.

Dick and kory stop the little game of dodge the flame ball.

Wow live round practicing I'm impressed.

Kory takes off her blindfolded and turns around.

Bruce is surprised how big kory is because from the back you never know but dick did say 2 more months

Kory you are as beautiful as ever

Aww that sweet of you bruce

Right shes so glowy rachel say

Thank rach I feel like

A beached whale all the kids in to room says before kory can say it.

Dick laughed with everyone else in the room

Kory burst into tears. The boy all quickly leave

I am a beach whales?

Kory hey no your not you just say it a lot .dick say as he hold her face in her hands.

I'm not huge ?

No not yet dick say

Dick ! Rachel say

Excuse my son he has a problem with putting his foot in his mouth

Kory start to cry even harder

I'm sorry I didn't mean, I meant she going to keep getting bigger

Dick come on rachel say as she pulls kory away from dick hold.

I'm sorry kory dick say again as he tries to follow her out.

Bruce puts a hand on Dicks chest.

I see you still can't read the room very well

Dick frown

She's been doing this a lot lately dick says

It's hormones . Her body is going through a lot dick.

I know and I'm making it worse dick say as his eye get misty

And I'm a mess too I haven't cried this much sense my parents died.

It happen sometimes bruce says

And I have been eating so much I have gain so much weight my suit is so much tighter then normal bruce. It's all going to my ass .god I cant wait for her to be here and our life's can go back to normal

Hate to tell you this but your life will never be normal. Bruce says

Dick sigh

How was your flight ? Are you hungry?

It was good. I could eat a little something.

They head out of the training room and head to the kitchen.

Kory is walking out with a bowl of popcorn and a few Reese pieces.

Dick stops

Kory ?

She looks up

He hugs her from behind and rubs her belly

I'm sorry my queen I was having a dumb dick moment how can I make it up to you .

Do that thing for a 1 minute

Not a problem I have you dick says before slowly lifting the weight of her belly from the bottom

She makes a noise that dick is use to hearing behind closed door.her head falls back to his shoulder and she stops eating . The kids are moving all around them like it's normal a few steal her popcorn while her eyes are close.

Very funny Gar next time your eating anything I want some.

Tim sticks his tongue out at him because he didn't get caught.

How did you know it's me?

Dick shots him a look.

Come on I know how you smell.

Oh Gar says as he smells himself

Connor laughs at him

Thank you so much.

Anything for me queen. Dick say after he kisses her neck and gentlest let's go of her belly.

Kory laughs

What's so funny dick ask

She always like to wiggle after you do that kory say.

She so still when I do it. I wish she move so I can feel her. Dicks says

I guess she enjoys it as much as I do.

Dick is standing in front of kory now talking to her belly

Hey in there it your daddy how are you huh are you having a good day. Dick says as he tries to find her head.

Are you trying to find her head again?

Yeah always

Want some help Conner says from the couch as he reads his book.

Do you mind kory? Dick asked

No go ahead it's been a few weeks I'd say it's about time to take a look go for it.

Connor give them he proximity growth difference from last time.

Kory what did you say the length of pregnancy on your home planet is?

6- 7 months is fully term but you said she look like a normal human pregnancy last month

Well apparently I was wrong kory

What do you mean we have a few months to go.

No I wouldn't say that she looks like she's good to go dick.

Good to go? Dick say

Yeah don't be surprised when she drops kory

We arent ready. Kory says. Kory looks completely panicked

Bruce is standing in the Door way with a bowl of popcorn .

Ok don't panic what's left to do?

Finish painting her room putting her furniture together . Putting all of her clothes away stocking up on diapers and wipes and other supplies .Kory say

Getting a birthing tub,figuring out where to put it . Dick says.

Ok dick I know your both stress out right now but let's get your head in to the game. Connor your over building the furniture is that ok dick ?

Yes sure

On it Connor speeds out the room

Gar and Tim can you paint ?

Sure they both said and leave the room

Ok Rachel take kory to sam or Costco for wipes and diapers . She doesn't need to be here when they are painting

On it rachel say

Dick you and I will deal with the birthing pool and anything else.

[elizaellwrites]

Legacy of the Fallen- Chapter 6

Back so soon? Didn't know you had it in you...

Content Warning: minor character death at the end of the chapter. Skip the third POV if you aren't feeling up to reading that. This whole chapter is kind of depressing too, so do what feels right for you.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Last Chapter

Table of Contents

Loss

Rachel’s dark eyes locked out the large front windows of the school, still for once in the primarily empty early morning halls of the school. Her dark gray sweatshirt-clad arms crossed over her chest; one combat boot propped up against the brick wall she leaned on. There was an ache beginning to form in her temples, but she kept her jaw wired shut as the thoughts flew. The buses were just beginning to arrive, with close to a half-hour before first hour started.

The morning spring mist still hung in the air, drops clinging to the panes of glass beside her. Her binder sat at her feet, its royal blue color standing out against her personal palette of dark gray and black. Her ginger hair was wrapped up in a messy bun, the ends sticking out haphazardly.

She couldn’t explain why she felt the way she did after so long now. Her house had felt so empty that morning, even with her mom, stepdad, and younger sister there. Someone was missing though, the absence she was sure none of her other family members felt.

She couldn’t remember her real dad, all she knew was that he died when she was one or two years old. No, the pain came when her brother, four years older than her, stormed out of their house and did not come back, living at a boarding school. Her mom didn’t ever talk about either of them and with no pictures up of him anymore, it was like Brady had been erased from existence. Even Amelia didn’t seem to register the difference, even though she was ten when he had left and clearly could remember him. She had asked about him for the first few months, but now after two years, never spoke his name.

The whole situation had been a consistent source of conflict between her and her mom especially. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand that it had hurt her, but it was that she pretended nothing had happened at all. Even right after Brady had left, her mom acted with the same cheery attitude she had always portrayed. The same false-positive energy that her brother had confronted her with several times before he had left.

It was days like this one when the weight of the burden her family ignored would bore down on her shoulders. She imagined herself as Atlas, holding the weight of the world on her shoulders. In reality, she would immediately be crushed, but it would never stop her from trying. Which is why it was a good thing that these days only sprung up on occasion.

She lifted a hand to rub at her eye, her glasses scraping against her nose as she did so. The faded black pen markings on her hand from her late-night doodles blurred her peripheral vision as she lowered it to her mouth to bite on her already worn thumbnail.

She wasn’t above admitting that she had occasionally thought about leaving her home too, but she could never. Even thinking about it made her feel guilty, to leave her family like that, she wouldn’t. They weren’t bad, especially compared to others, but the deep-rooted issues were still there. She always felt guilty even thinking about walking out since her own best friend had it so much worse. What right did she have in thinking about it? Imagining leaving her family was too difficult to do for too long, which made her feel like Brady wasn’t okay; or he would have returned long ago.

She let out a sigh, turning her head and staring dully into the dusty corner where the wall met the windows. The white tile showed every individual hair and speck of grime. It was only slightly disgusting in comparison to other things she had been a witness to in that school.

She adjusted her weight as she lowered her foot, the soft thump of her binder tipping over catching her attention. A huff escaped through her nose while she leaned down just enough to catch the handle and prop it up again, now parallel to the wall. She unzipped the top and pulled out a black pen before closing it again. She straightened, securing the cap on the back end of the pen. She slowly traced the faded lines across her left hand, the first doodle being a small leafy branch that covered the joint between her thumb and wrist.

Downstairs, she could hear more students arriving as more buses pulled in. She was thankful that most of her classes were on the top floor this year, where the walls were free of any lockers. The year prior, she had to push and dodge her way through the crowds, though occasionally, her reputation led some to get out of her way. It did come in handy sometimes.

“Rachel!”

She didn’t always know how to feel about those who decided to look past it, she decided as she looked over to see Asher walking towards her with his awkward, lopsided smile. Her pen froze where it rested on the crest of a leaf, the cool metal tip making her skin tingle at the sensation.

“Good morning,” his smile stretched to a grin, reaching a hand up to touch his hamster nest of brown hair.

“Is it?” She raised an eyebrow at him, before turning her attention back to her drawing.

She hummed, starting the base of another leaf. She could feel him watching her, as he often did. It only made her a little uncomfortable, especially since she had turned him down a few months before; after he had confessed to her in a situation remarkably similar to this one.

“Have you seen Jacob, by the way?” Asher adjusted his jeans awkwardly. “He was acting kinda funky on Friday.”

“Nope,” her eyes darted dismissively to him and back, the pop of the p satisfying in the quiet hallway.

“Cool, I guess,” he cleared his throat as quietly as he could, his left hand raising to play with the bow of his glasses.

“Not as cool as me,” the voice made her pen jolt against her skin, sending a thin black line cutting through her drawing.

Her jaw locked as her head whipped to burn an annoyed stare into Evan’s face. I do not have the patience for this today… she thought, her fingers tightening around the plastic of the pen.

“Speaking of cool,” he wiggled his eyebrows as if she wasn’t shooting a hole through his forehead. “How much does a polar bear weigh?”

“Enough to crush you?” She bit out.

Evan frowned, almost a pout. “No; enough to break the ice.” With that he was back to the infuriating smirk that always made her want to punch him in the mouth… but she couldn’t do that because he was just a kid or whatever. “Anyway, what are you doing hanging out with Sparky here?” He made a face at Asher, before returning his blue eyes to her. “You’re out of his league, Spitfire, besides, we were made for each other.”

She slammed the cap back on her pen, reaching down to grab her binder. The zip of the zipper ripped through the hall as she shoved the pen back inside before closing it once again.

“What do you say we go get something after school gets out?” He continued, unfazed by her attitude. “I’m allergic to you saying no, you know.”

She leveled a look at him for a few seconds before faking an exaggerated sneeze that left Asher coughing out a laugh. “Whoops,” her voice was flat. “Looks like I’m allergic to you.” She weaved around him, satisfaction rising as Asher’s laughs grew louder behind her.

She made her way down the hall, only feeling her nerves start to settle when she rounded the corner. More people were filling up the space, glances brushing against her as she tried to compose herself at least a little bit. Her fingers played with the binder handle, her muscles tight.

She whirled into the girl’s bathroom, a cursed place that no one dared to touch outside of emergencies. She hesitated when she saw that another person already occupied one of the stalls, turning toward the mirror instead. Her hands lifted to her hair, taking out the pins and placing them on the counter beside her propped-up binder. Next was the hairband, catching slightly at her clumsy removal, making her wince as she gently freed the stubborn hairs. She brushed her fingers through the ginger strands, pretending to care how it looked. She placed the hairband around her wrist and shook her head slightly, before beginning to French braid it instead.

Her heart leaped as the roar of the toilet flushing erupted off the tiles, quickly followed by the click of the door opening. Rachel continued to act invested in her hair as a taller, curly redhead came up to wash her hands beside her. She looked older, but not by much. Her light green eyes caught her dark brown gaze in the mirror, offering a somewhat friendly smile before moving away to dry her hands.

She couldn’t help a sigh of relief as the door swung shut with her exit. She was alone, if only for a moment, and despite the smell. She quickly finished off her braid, humming softly, and shoved the pins in where the ends stuck out; storing the extras in her pocket. She stared herself down for a moment, noting the dark circles that were beginning to form. Her gaze lowered down to the smeared drawing on her hand, contemplating it before reaching to take out her pen again.

She lifted it back to her hand, beginning to trace over her purposeful lines again. She stopped, narrowing her eyes at how the plastic felt in her hand. It was almost rubbery, malleable, but only to a point, in her grip. She blinked at it, turning it over in her fingers.

The thought was lost as the warning bell rang overhead, ringing off the tiles. The pen was stuffed back into the binder as she rushed to the door, pulling it open with the cuffs of her sleeve.

She marched through the halls to her Spanish class, ready to go through another hour of struggling to understand a word the teacher was saying and embracing the D grade she had managed to achieve on her last test.

____________________________

Jacob’s eyes darted up to look across the lab table once again, his pencil freezing where he had been writing in his notebook. Anna’s eyes were narrowed in concentration as she said something to her lab partner, Kenzie, twisting her pen between her fingers. She stood on the far side, in front of the wooden storage cabinets that contradicted the rest of the plain white classroom.

His partner, a guy named Tyler, snorted at him as he picked up the ball of steel wool with a pair of tongs. “She’s gonna notice if you keep looking at her like that.”

Jacob blinked quickly, head whipping to look at the other boy. “What?”

Tyler let out a muffled laugh, placing the steel wool on a small wire platform above the Bunsen burner. “You’ve been staring at the new girl since she got here, dude.”

“I’m just curious,” he defended himself, writing off the heat that was rising to his face as being from the open flame before him. The steel wool lit up to mimic magma before them.

He gave him a look of disbelief, cocking an eyebrow underneath his safety goggles. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Jacob couldn’t stop his hand from rising to scratch at the side of his head, uncomfortable under this type of questioning. He watched as the steel wool crumbled apart on the wire platform, quickly going to write down his observations while Tyler just shrugged at him.

“Whatever you say,” the other boy’s voice conveyed no form of belief. “But other guys are taking your ‘curiosity’ as some sort of claim, just so you know. Especially with her sitting with you and all.”

Jacob groaned under his breath, closing his eyes while his face was turned down at his notebook. “First,” he looked up at Tyler. “There is no such thing as a ‘claim’,” He could hear the growl starting to form in the back of his throat, swiftly swallowing it down. “Second, she sits with my friends and me. Third, I’m not interested in her like that, I’m just curious about her. That’s it.”

“Whatever, man,” he knew Tyler didn’t digest any of what he said, but at least the issue was dropped. The Bunsen burner was switched off, the quiet hissing of the flame dying away.

He absently licked his lips as he finished his notes, conscious of his urge to look at her again. His thoughts wandered back to last Thursday night, her father’s words to him ringing in his ears even now, four days later: Promise me. He shifted his foot in memory, feeling the cool sting of the metal through his sock against his right foot.

He shivered at the chill that ran down his spine, his hand running through his hair. The call he had made on Friday morning had left a lingering bad taste in his mouth, his nerves had been on high alert ever since, like the bane of all his problems would leap out from the next corner.

He was aware of Tyler dumping the clump of steel wool onto the scale from the wire platform, muttering a number under his breath while Jacob’s eyes remained locked on the same spot on the black countertop.

Everything had come crashing down on Thursday, the truth that he had pretended wasn’t real, now becoming so clear it hurt. He had spent so long shoving away the past, his reality, like he could have been a normal kid for just a moment. Now, he was left with the knowledge and the promise that would lead him back to the place he had been constantly running from.

He closed his eyes and released a sigh, attempting to ground himself before his past came to drown him again. His concentration was broken, however, by the distinct sound of the classroom phone ringing on the other side of the room. He watched curiously as Mrs. Harris walked calmly to answer it. Her eyebrows furrowed as the person on the other end spoke, glancing towards him once before affirming the message with a nod and hanging up.

He knew what was said had rattled her, but she hid it well as she walked towards him. He could feel his heartbeat pick up in his chest, the wall in his mind threatening to tumble down as he met her gaze. “Jacob,” she murmured, her voice unusually soft. “They want to see you in the counseling office, if you want to bring a friend with you, you can if you wish.”

He looked at her, searching her eyes for answers but simultaneously not wanting to know. He ignored Tyler pointing to himself as a volunteer to join him, instead, his eyes followed the same track they had all hour.

Mrs. Harris nodded, gesturing for him to go to the door, while she approached Anna. He focused on his teacher’s movements, purposefully blocking out his thought processes as they tried to run rampant. A sick feeling was rising in his stomach, one that was all too familiar. No, he didn’t know why they called yet. He couldn’t jump to conclusions.

He was staring at the floor when Anna moved to stand at his side, no doubt looking confused and worried about what was happening. He looked up to watch Mrs. Harris scribble out a hall pass on a piece of graphing paper, handing it to him with an attempt at a smile. “If you don’t come back by the end of the hour, I’ll hold onto your things, okay?” She addressed them both.

He nodded while hearing the small agreement from Anna to his left. They set out into the empty halls, footsteps echoing eerily. The science classrooms were near to the offices, yet it felt like an eternity to make the journey.

Who would call him in the first place? Jisuph and Jelare weren’t likely, but who from home would do so at all? His parents didn’t reach out unless his father needed something, but he only called when he was out of school. His mind wandered to his sister like it often did. How long had it been since he spoke to her? It couldn’t be her though, she would most likely rather die than pick up a phone; but who else could it be?

They reached the small secondary door to the office that led to the school counselors, smaller offices. He placed his hall pass on the secretary’s desk, earning a nod to the office to the far left.

He approached the door cautiously, aware that Anna was awkwardly following. His hand hovered for a moment before knocking, his nerves spiking as he was called in. Ms. Carter was sitting with her hands folded on her desk that faced the door, watching them as they moved to sit in the chairs that were pushed into the corner to allow space to walk.

His control was slipping, he could feel it. Ms. Carter’s inner conflict and Anna’s awkward feeling of how she shouldn’t be there. He couldn’t feel bad though, having someone else there distracted from the looming threat of what he was about to hear.

“Jacob,” Ms. Carter started carefully. “I have your sister on the phone, she wants to speak with you…” Her voice droned on, but he was no longer listening.

What did she say that had to be said so urgently? Something had to have happened at home, and that meant… no. He couldn’t think about that, not until he knew for sure.

He didn’t realize he had zoned out until he found Ms. Carter holding out the phone for him to take. He reached out, a buzzing filling his head as he moved it to his ear. “Ria?” He could hear the tension in his voice as he spoke into the line.

“Jacob,” the voice on the other end sent a spike into his heart.

“Adara,” the name of his older sister slipped from his lips before he could stop it. He sat frozen, unsure of what to say. He swallowed, hard. “Adara, what’s going on?”

She was silent for a moment, just the sound of her breathing coming through the phone into his ear. His own breathing was starting to pick up, as she was the last one who would reach out to him, even when he was home. The last time they had seen each other, it was light to say it hadn’t gone well.

“We can’t find mom,” her voice broke off with a shaky breath.

He felt his heart stop. Missing, she was missing. That only meant one thing. “What?” He choked out.

“We’ve looked all over, but it’s been two days now. I need to know if you know anything about this.”

“No,” his voice was barely a whisper. He was barely aware of Anna’s hand hovering just above his shoulder. The mental images flashed behind his burning eyes, his hands tightening, with his nails digging into the palm of his free hand.

Overhead, the bell rang out as it always did, but he couldn’t hear it as blood rushed through his ears. He could barely bring himself to breathe, his thoughts only cycling around the scenarios playing in his head. The memories hit him like daggers as he sat, unmoving.

“Ria’s taking it hard,” she continued, her voice giving away that she was trying to hold back tears as well. “Father is… himself.” Her tone shook with anger at that, almost covering the fact that she had referred to the man as ‘father’ for once. “If you can come home, I’m sure Ria would appreciate it. She doesn’t want to admit it, but I can tell she misses you. We’re going to wait a few more days before the remembrance, just in case, but we aren’t holding much hope here.”

He closed his eyes, a tear escaping its confines to run down his cheek. He let it trail down to fall off his chin, the sound of it hitting his jeans audible in the quiet room. He could feel the two sets of eyes on him, but at this moment, he couldn’t care.

“I don’t know,” he managed.

“Okay,” he could hear the regular bitterness return to her voice. “I don’t know how updated I can keep you, but someone will contact you if you don’t come home.”

“Okay,” he murmured as the second bell rang above.

“Fenfilu,” She muttered before the line went dead, the empty buzz matching the one that filled his head.

He felt the phone slip from his fingertips, the cord catching it on the desk before it hit the floor. He took a deep breath, trying to process what had just happened.

“Are you okay?” Anna’s soft voice shook slightly beside him, hands not quite touching him.

He swallowed, feeling the emotions building up as he tried to come up with an answer. The room was almost spinning around him, pain seeping through his body. The walls seemed to begin moving in towards him; his vision blurred from emotion.

He stood quickly, staggering as he did so. A muttered no left in the air as he turned and fled.

____________________________

Asher gripped the notebook in his hand as he made his way to his next class from the computer lab. The first two hours of the day had been rough, not to mention his failure at talking to Rachel alone again. He was almost thankful that Evan had come to interrupt his embarrassment.

Maybe geography would be better? It was an okay subject for him, even if he preferred math to anything else. He doubted today would be as good as he had hoped, even with finally feeling like he wasn’t about to fall over from whatever virus he had picked up.

He followed the stream of students through the basement hall, he could already see the congestion building where the entrance to the stairs was in front of him. Rachel and Jacob often complained about how tight or slow it was, but he didn’t mind. There was still time to get anywhere in the school in between classes unless one was to stop somewhere along the way. He could honestly say that he had rarely been marked tardy, though only for moments of importance that his teachers hadn’t found to be relevant.

He casually observed the passing faces around him, most that he knew, some that he did. He was looking for one face in particular as he approached the usual place he passed Jacob. He hadn’t had the opportunity to talk with him on Friday, but his friend was acting odd, looking uneasy and anxious, and had zoned out several times during lunch. He hadn’t seen him like that since the first couple of weeks after he had moved to the school. It was more than slightly concerning since he had been engaged and normal until a switch was seemingly flipped.

Was it necessarily his business what was going on? No, but he hadn’t been able to shake the idea from the beginning that Jacob didn’t have someone to support him in the ways that mattered. Asher couldn’t pretend that he didn’t jump to adopting the socially awkward guy as a pseudo-little brother; never mind that he was younger than Jacob. He didn’t know if that’s how Jacob saw it, but that was how he saw it, and that was that.

He noticed him leaning against his locker with one ankle crossing over the other, an action that sent alarm bells through his head. Never, in the six months he had known him, had he done that. It was unheard of during passing time since the hallways were too crazy to just stand in one place and expect to be given enough space for such things. Next, he was staring straight down at his hands, which were gripping each other lightly, not holding anything, not tapping against his leg, or running through his hair. Something was wrong, terribly wrong.

He approached his friend, dodging around other students and groups that were too engaged in conversation to notice where they were walking. He stopped in front of him, watching him expectantly. “What’s wrong?”

Jacob was very still, just his eyes raising to look at him. His unusually bright golden-brown eyes held a darkness to them that Asher wasn’t used to. He could feel his muscles tense, suddenly on high alert, but he forced himself to relax. He had to keep calm to be able to help his friend.

He looked around the hallways, sighing at the continuous flow of students all around them. He shoved the idea of getting to class on time out the window, thankful that Ms. Larson was the most likely to excuse him for a situation like this.

“Come on,” he clapped Jacob on the shoulder, pulling him from the wall of lockers and directing him in the opposite direction that he would have gone to get to class. He led Jacob back to the spare classrooms, choosing a door he knew was usually left unlocked and slipping them both inside.

He flipped the light switch quickly, revealing the multitude of extra desks that were pushed all along the walls, chairs, and more desks piled atop them. Random boxes were strewn across the floor, looking like they hadn’t been touched since the start of the school year.

He turned to face Jacob, the other boy now standing stiffly with his arms crossed over his chest. “If you want to talk,” Asher began, softening his voice. “I’m here to listen.”

Jacob nodded slowly, shifting his feet, and shoving his hands deep into his pockets with a sigh. “You know,” his golden eyes met his blue. “You’re making me feel bad about this.”

“It’s okay,” Asher assured him, continuing to ignore the uneasy feeling trying to rise in his gut.

“It’s not you, you seem like a nice guy but…”

Asher squinted in confusion.

“You’re better off being out of this,” he murmured, pulling his hand out of his pocket with a glint in his gaze.

Asher could just manage to see a flash of bronze before pain exploded across his neck. He tried gasping for breath, but nothing but a wheeze came out. He could feel warm liquid flowing across his skin as he raised a hand to try to touch his throat. He tried to meet Jacob’s eyes as a wave of dizziness overcame him, his feet stumbling for balance.

He felt the effect of the impact of his body hitting the floor, rather than the hit itself. Blinking blurrily up at the looming figure that seemed to fluctuate before him as it leaned down with the bloodstained bronze knife gripped tightly in his hand.

“This isn’t about you.” The breathy murmur was almost lost in the rush of blood in his ears. “Iruir rissallai arer fisua.”

The last thing he saw was the blade plunging towards him once again, his last thought screamed to the heavens.

Why?

Next Chapter

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