#anna did not spend most of her life desperate to spend time with her sister just for elsa to fuck off to the mountains again! what was the+

[ilovefredjones]

the frozen ii ending makes me soooooo angry like the whole POINT of frozen i was that elsa learned that she could rule arendelle with her powers and with anna by her side!!! literally in the bway musical she sings ‘i know i’ll never see that sunny day / when this trial is finally through / and it can just be me and you’ like. elsa WANTS to stay with anna

and they try and explain this somewhat in into the unknown, with the ‘who knows deep down i’m not where i’m meant to be’ but. WHY isn’t she where she’s meant to be. all of the first film was her learning that she belonged in arendelle and her powers/herself wasn’t something to be afraid of. why isn’t she meant to be with her family? with her sister who’s been desperate to reconnect with her? why doesn’t she belong where people readily love her and accept her and want the best for her?

and then, what about anna? there is no mention of her wanting/being ready to be queen in either two films. we don’t even see the offer on screen; we don’t get the sisters’ quiet, vulnerable conversation where elsa admits to wanting to live with the rest of the nature spirits and anna offers to take her place as queen. we don’t see anna begging elsa to stay in the forest because she can rule if elsa’s happier there. we never see their dialogue. it’s just so sudden. is anna once again just going along with what her sister wants? is elsa isolating herself all over again? we just don’t know. they both seem happy, but there’s barely any indication that it’ll lead up to that point.

it just makes no sense for either of their arcs, or their previous wants/needs. if they were meant to stay together, why separate them again? they just got each other back. and now they’re alone again.

#and yeah yeah neither of them are alone bc of kristoff/the other nature spirits etc etc but COME ONNNNNNN. #anna did not spend most of her life desperate to spend time with her sister just for elsa to fuck off to the mountains again! what was the+ #point of the first film! #like when did anna show ANY indication of being ok with being QUEEN???? does she even WANT to be??? #and yes elsa is now surrounded by people like her but. gah. idk it just feels so redundant #like why is that the only place she really belongs? #and i know they’re her people so ofc she wants to be with them bc she found where she belongs!! #i just think they could’ve balanced it a bit more so it’s not so out of nowhere #why didn’t we get to see anna and elsa talk it out???? sing a little duet????? #they don’t even HAVE a duet in this film what the hell #grrrr #anyway. normal i’m so normal about frozen #frozen #frozen ii #elsa of arendelle #anna of arendelle

[evermorehqs]

CATCHING MY BREATH, STARING OUT AN OPEN WINDOW

Kristoff Bjorgman is based on Kristoff from Frozen. He is a 30 year old human, ice rink owner, and uses he/him pronouns. He has no powers. Kristoff is portrayed by Will Poulter and he is open.

CATCHING MY DEATH, AND I COULDN’T BE SURE

Sometimes it's nice to live a simple life. You know what you're meant to do, you know what's expected of you - it's easy. Kristoff's life was like that for a long time. And then, suddenly, it wasn't. Growing up, he never quite fit in with his family, there was something different about him that he couldn't put his finger on, his brothers and sisters constantly teased him about how he was adopted but he never asked. Maybe because he never wanted to know. His parents were his parents and that was good enough for him. Not questioning things was a big part of who Kristoff was. It was how he started working for the family business, because that's what was expected, that's what Bjorgmans did. And he loved it. Ice was his life. Ice and giving some romantic advice that no one ever asked for. It was rich coming from him since he really didn't have much experience himself when it came to the romance department, but he was a romantic at heart. Growing up under a monarchy, Kristoff had some thoughts, most of an anarchist mindset until he met one of the princesses - Anna. There was something different about her that made him a bit more open minded, and it came as a shock when one day, she was gone. She'd left in search of Elsa and it seemed like a small group were going to head out to try and find them both, so Kristoff volunteered. There was no hesitation. Eventually, he found his way to Evermore and the moment his foot crossed the boundary line, his memories were gone. Every single one. Besides ice, his family and Sven, the man couldn't recall why he was there or anything else about his life before coming here. As far as he knew, Evermore had been his home since he was born and he quickly adapted to a life here, opening an ice rink and spending all of his hours teaching kids how to skate and playing hockey every night with some of the guys. Some days, he'd see someone who looked familiar but he has yet to figure out why.

I HAD A FEELING SO PECULIAR

❀ Max Desai: Max is a solid guy to call up for a bite or a drink and Kristoff feels lucky to call him a friend. He wouldn't say best friend with Sven around but he's definitely one of the guys ❀ Anastasia Tremaine: There's something both a little scary about Anastasia and her family but something...sweet under the surface. Kristoff has seen glimpses of it and he desperately wants to see more ❀ Casper Kowalski: Kristoff sometimes sees them at the rink but never on it and he wants to talk to them, help if he can but he really has no idea where to start

THAT THIS PAIN WOULD BE FOR EVERMORE

#disney rp #kristoff #frozen #will poulter fc #disney skeleton rp #no powers #male bio #open bio #open male

[hafanforever]

Princess Protection Program

Throughout the two main Frozen films, part of Elsa and Anna’s bond of love is shown with how they desperate they become to protect one another. However, the ways that they protect each other are true polar opposites.

In Frozen, Elsa thinks that to protect Anna, as well as everyone else, she must stay as far away as possible, without any sort of physical contact made between them, especially by Elsa first. But in Frozen II, Anna thinks that to protect Elsa, she must stay by Elsa all the time and never let Elsa out of her sight, while also making as much physical contact with her as possible, even if Anna is always the one to make the first move.

In Frozen, young Elsa demonstrates her way of protection after she accidentally strikes Anna and nearly kills her. Following this, Elsa becomes crippled with fear over the instability of her powers, believing that they are only dangerous and harmful. So she consequently chooses isolation from everyone she loves, including Anna, presuming that being completely isolated would protect them from any further harm her magic could do. As she spends 13 years trying to control her magic with little success, Elsa refuses to have any sort of contact with Anna, especially physical contact, since she fears that she might accidentally harm or kill Anna if another disastrous event occurred.

Once her coronation day arrives, Elsa is not only determined to suppress her powers to protect Anna, but also her people in hoping that they won’t discover she has been keeping such a big secret. After they are accidentally revealed following an argument with Anna, the first thing Elsa does is run away, and she keeps on running once more Arendellians discover her secret.

Although this is an excellent example of showing how running from problems don’t always, if ever, work, Elsa feels she has no other choice. She is unique for having these ice and snow powers, but she doesn’t know anyone else who has them, has answers about them, or can teach her to control them.

Therefore, Elsa doesn’t know any other way to solve her problem except to entirely remove herself from society and live all alone.

When Anna discovers Elsa at her new ice palace, the sisters are briefly happy to see each other. But Elsa rebuffs Anna’s suggestion at mending their bond, saying it is because she is only trying to protect Anna and tells her to stay away for her own safety. Upon Anna saying that Arendelle has become trapped in an eternal winter, Elsa panics and accidentally strikes Anna in the chest. Realizing that she has harmed Anna again, Elsa continues to insist that Anna leave, and when Anna refuses to go without her sister, Elsa resorts to creating Marshmallow in order to forcefully throw Anna out.

Then when Hans captures Elsa at her palace and brings her back to Arendelle, she insists that she must be set free since she is a danger to the kingdom, though she in unable to remove the winter. Not knowing that Hans plans to frame her for treason upon learning that Anna is dying from her frozen heart, Elsa breaks out of the dungeon and tries to flee back to the mountain. She ends up getting caught in the whiteout caused by her increasing fear, and when Hans appears and tells her that she can’t keep running away, Elsa only pleads with him to take care of Anna.

In Frozen II, Elsa still occasionally tries to protect Anna, but this time, Anna is the one with a goal to protect her sister. This is first displayed when Elsa makes up her mind to find the voice calling her by going to the Enchanted Forest. When Anna objects to Elsa going alone, Elsa initially refuses to let Anna come, saying that her powers can protect her, but Anna does not have that advantage. Before they depart, Pabbie tells Anna that he fears Elsa’s powers may not be enough to help her, and Anna vows not to let any harm come to Elsa.

From that point on, Anna remains determined never to let Elsa out of her sight, showing that she feels that she must remain by Elsa’s side at all times in order to protect her. When the group finally reaches the entrance of the Forest and the mist covering it, the sisters take hands and Anna makes Elsa promise that they do their journey together. During another attempt to propose to Anna, Kristoff stumbles over his words, including saying “In case we die...” This causes Anna to panic, and she hurries to find Elsa, saying out loud that she promised she wouldn’t leave her sister’s side. Once she finds Elsa, Anna rushes to her, asking if she’s all right. Soon afterwards, the group is swept up in Gale’s tornado, then she keeps Elsa in her vortex while she drops the rest. Anna shouts to Gale to release Elsa, and then she again makes sure her sister is all right after Elsa stops Gale and makes the ice sculptures.

Shortly after meeting the Northuldra tribe, and Lieutenant Mattias and his soldiers, Bruni appears and sets the Forest ablaze. Elsa rushes to put it out, and Anna follows her, endangering her own life when she starts inhaling and choking on the flames. When Kristoff is riding Sven and calls out Anna’s name upon seeing her in danger, Elsa hears him and sees where her sister is. So she puts out enough flames to create a clear path for Kristoff and Sven. The duo immediately race over and Kristoff pulls Anna up into his arms, then Elsa calls out to him “Get her out of here!”, after which Anna objects and calls back to her sister. (Now this moment shows me that Elsa very much trusts Kristoff to protect Anna and get her to safety whenever she (Elsa) is unable to do it herself.) After Elsa settles and befriends Bruni, she reunites with Anna, and they briefly chastise each other for putting the other person at risk and not being careful.

Later, as the sisters and Olaf continue north, they discover the remains of their parents’ wrecked ship and that they were on their Ahtohallan when they died. In the following scene, the girls’ different ways of protecting each other comes into play. While both realize that Ahtohallan is the next stop on their journey since it holds all the answers about the past (as Iduna told them years ago and sang from “All Is Found”), Anna says that they go to Ahtohallan together...but Elsa disagrees.

Like I said in “Split Decision”, Elsa decides that she must go to Ahtohallan alone, and that Anna cannot come with her because of the risks that would come with both of them crossing the Dark Sea. Anna objects to this, pleading with Elsa to remember their promise to do it together, particularly because of the “All Is Found” lyrics warning that one will drown by going too far into Ahtohallan, and that she wants to make sure Elsa won’t meet that fate. Though they tell each other that they can’t bear to lose one another, and Elsa understands why Anna wants to come, she refuses to change her mind since Anna would be more at risk trying to cross the sea (which, again, alludes to her earlier line that Anna does not have powers to help/protect her). So much like when she created Marshmallow to throw Anna out of the ice palace and stay away from her (Elsa) for her own safety, Elsa again resorts to forcing Anna away to safety by putting her (and Olaf) inside an ice boat creation and making a path on which the boat can slide.

The difference between these moments, though, is that Elsa does not do this out of believing that her powers make her a danger to Anna, but because she fears that Anna would have a greater chance of dying while trying to pass through the Dark Sea. And Elsa is proven right when she herself gets knocked down by the waves, struggles to swim in the rough, choppy waters, and uses her powers to overcome other obstacles. When the Nokk appears, things get more complicated for Elsa when it attempts to drown her, which forces her to use her magic to fight back until it finally calms down.

As I said in the aforementioned analysis, Elsa facing the Nokk while crossing the sea proves that she was correct about why she and Anna could not go together, and what she said before about her powers being able to protect her while the same could not be said for Anna. Elsa would not have been able to take care of herself by working to get past the big waves and fighting the Nokk if she had to do it with Anna, too. Because Anna lacks powers of her own, successfully crossing the Dark Sea and taking on the Nokk at the same time is not something she would have been able to do at all.

Now Elsa and Anna’s methods of protecting each other differs primarily, of course, because Elsa is magical, so it makes the most logical sense for her to protect others by isolating herself from them. Pushing that aside, it is also due to the fact that the two sisters have opposite personalities; therefore, they have opposite ways of displaying protection towards other people.

Like I’ve said before, Elsa is an introvert. She is reserved, closed in, and reluctant to talk about her feelings. She is somewhat antisocial and prefers having more of her own personal space. She is sometimes uncomfortable having intimate physical contact with people unless it is people she loves and to whom she is very close. As an introvert, Elsa is also very independent and individualistic. When she makes up her mind to go to the Forest, find the voice, and restore Arendelle, she wants to do it on her own, not merely because she doesn’t think anyone can help her, but because she wants to achieve what she needs to do and not let anything distract, hinder, or prevent her from doing so. She does not want to worry about being responsible for others in case any danger could occur. This would explain why she initially refuses to let Anna come along, with the argument that Anna doesn’t have her own powers for protection. It’s not that Elsa simply wants Anna to stay behind where they both know it is safe, but she doesn’t yet know what dangers she will have to face. So she did not want Anna tagging along since Anna could cause distractions or slow her (Elsa) down if she got in any danger since Elsa would have to protect her.

On the other hand, Anna is an extrovert. She is very open, expressive, and does not hide her feelings or anything else about herself. She is very gregarious, social, and thrives being in the company of other people. She loves to talk and befriend people, and never hesitates to make physical contact with them, particularly hugs. As an extrovert, Anna also actively depends on people and seeks to help them with their problems. When she makes up her mind to come with Elsa to the Forest, she wants to help because she doesn’t think Elsa should try or will be able to do everything entirely on her own. She doesn’t care, or at least is not afraid, about what dangers the trek will bring because she has proven what kinds she has faced without any magic of her own. While Elsa thinks that Anna coming along would distract her or slow her down from accomplishing her mission, Anna instead thinks that she could help accomplish the mission a lot faster than if Elsa went alone, not to mention they should go together to protect each other from any danger.

Essentially, the way Elsa and Anna protect each other is just how they would want to be protected themselves based on their personality types. Elsa likes to have her own space, so she protects her sister by giving Anna enough space where she can be safe, away from her (Elsa). But Anna likes to be in the presence of people, so she protects Elsa by staying with her as much as possible so she can personally make sure she is with her if danger strikes.

In the end, both girls learn important lessons about how they protect each other and their own personal limits. Although she likes to be independent, Elsa accepts that she can’t do everything on her own, that she does sometimes need help, specifically from Anna. Likewise, although Anna still wants to help people, she accepts that she always can’t always do so by being by their sides, that she needs to give people their space and boundaries, specifically Elsa. They both realize how much they need each other, even if they can’t be together all the time.

Despite being apart for the last part of their journey, Elsa and Anna still resolved the conflict between Arendelle and the Northuldra together, just as Elsa promised they would. 😉😊❤️

#Frozen analyses #Frozen 2 analyses #Disney #Disney Frozen #Disney Frozen 2 #Frozen #Frozen 2 #Elsa #Anna #safety #protection #my stuff #mine

[just-like-playing-tag]

I have a very tragic question. What if Emma died by fighting demons & her close friends/family witnessed her die (ofc that includes Norman...)? Can u imagine how her friends/family would react to her sacrifice?

Yay it's sad headcanons hours!!!

Norman: Dead. Destroyed. Seeing Emma die in front of him would literally be his worst nightmare coming to reality. He'd probably be not accepting she's gone and would keep shaking her corpse for a long time, screaming, tears uncontrollably streaming down his face, begging her to come back. Don has to take him by force away from Emma's body because he just won't leave her. After the event, he spends a week at home alone, not allowing anyone near him. Nobody knows what he did during that time. But I believe after some time he will find the strength to keep going on, and return to relative normality. He knows that there's people who needs him: be it the habit of being a leader or his innate kindness and altruism, but he knows he can't abandon his family. And he has swore not to leave Ray on his own. So he keeps living. He constantly tries to keep his mind busy, not allowing himself to indulge on painful memories, which will lead to him constantly overworking himself (it takes an inhuman amount of work to distract that big smart head of his). He tells himself that's what Emma would have wanted, that he has to keep living for her. But a certain light has left his eyes, and it will never come back. He will blame himself for her death for the rest of his life, never being able to let it go.

Ray: His immediate reaction to Emma dying in front of his eyes is not as strong as Norman's: maybe it's because he's already experienced many near death experiences with her, but he isn't taking that she's dead. He waits for her to get up, frozen in disbelief. For the first time in his life, his fast reflexes and incredible observation skills just can't keep up with what's happening around him. Why is everyone screaming? Why is Norman crying? Emma cannot be dead, that's impossible. Emma is too strong to die. Everyone needs her, and he knows she would never abandon them. But then what's happening? Why doesn't she get up? With Emma dying, time stopped moving for Ray. He can't put himself to do anything. His life has lost any meaning. He's shocked. He's furious. He's desperate. And soon enough, he just stops living. He knows that's not what Emma would have wanted, and he feels sorry for that; but he's not strong enough to keep going on. I think there's kind of a deep meaning to his reaction? Thanks to Emma, Ray started living: he started thinking that happiness, freedom, love attended him in his life, when previously he only saw death. Now, with her dying, he has once again lost all of it, and all that's left is emptiness. I don't think Ray would kill himself because that would be REALLY disrespectful towards Emma, but I think he would essentially just let himself exist, and stop living. His family would try to cheer him up as much as possible, but with time it becomes evident it's all useless. However, they keep hanging out with him, as they don't want to leave him alone, and he really appreciates it. But his family loving him and him allowing himself to love them back is just another part of Emma's legacy, and it hurts in its own way. Norman insists for the two of them to move in together, and Ray doesn't oppose, but in his life there's now this gigantic, empty space that is impossible to fill, and that crushes him more and more every day, slowly consuming him.

(Oh my God I've made myself sad?? Jk forget about it, if Emma died Ray would party.)

Gilda: When Emma dies, Gilda's world falls upon her. She can't believe it. Her first reaction is similar to Ray's, but in her case rage fastly takes over the other emotions. Emma shouldn't have abandoned her family, the children that so much looked up to her. Emma had no right to betray Gilda, to leave her alone. Of course it's just a defense mechanism, and Gilda doesn't really believe that, but right now that's for her the easiest, most immediate reaction in order to not let the pain kill her. She's losing sight of what's the meaning of living, now that Emma's gone, fastly falling to desperation. Eventually Don will be able to bring her out of her state, and show her that there's plenty of things that make life worth living. I truly believe these two have an amazing relationship, and they would be of great help to each other with coping with the grief. Gilda is going to be ok, because that was the most important thing for Emma, for her friends to be happy.

Don: Let me get this straight: he's as desperate and lost as everyone else. He just lost one of the most precious people in his life and he's absolutely destroyed. He cries a lot, on the spot and the days and nights after. Emma was a big model and inspiration for him, but before that, she was a dear friend like no others. However, I think between him and the people before listed he would be the most functional one although the pain. He's broken, but he still manages to get up and push the others to move forward. Now that Emma is gone, he knows that somebody has to take her place; and even though he knows there's no one like her, he can at least try to be the support the children need. His family needs him, and he owes it to Emma. After Emma's death he will be the most helpful guide to help the others overcome the grief- which is sad in its own way, because if he helps everyone, then who helps him? I hope these kids will get therapy.

Anna and Nat: Shocked. Desperate. Heartbroken. They're young enough to see Emma as an older sister and old enough to fully feel the pain of her death. Hopefully they will be able to recover.

GF children: They're all so confused and lost. They can't understand what's happening. More than Emma's death, which is hard to process on it's own, they're shattered by their older siblings reactions. They would be upset indeed, but I believe children have a magical way to cope, and they will eventually be able to overcome the pain. They're the ones that best cherish Emma's memory, truly believing that she lives in their hearts and in their happiness. They become the greatest cheer up and drive to keep living for the older ones.

Phil: Heartbroken!!!!!! Miserable! Inconsolable! Emma's death deeply signs him. It takes him weeks to fully recover. After that he will try acting as normal as possible, especially for his younger siblings, but he'll never manage to be as cheerful and thoughtless as he used to be ever again. His childhood died with Emma.

Oliver: He cries a lot. Since Emma was younger than himself, he loved her as a younger sister, and when she dies, he blames himself for failing to protect her. However, he will do his best to reassure and help the others. Goldy Pond's experience taught him that it feels better to keep yourself busy, so that your mind won't have the time to linger on the pain. It isn't the best coping mechanism for him to handle the trauma with, but he indeed was of great help to fill the leader space Emma had left behind.

GP group: Upset. I like to believe that with the time they spent together at the bunker, they started loving Emma as a sister, rather than looking at her as a leader or a hero. That made her death all the more dreadful. Emma's death brought back once again the horror and desperation of the hunting ground, the pain of losing the family you loved. Having it suddenly brought back after such a long time was horrible: multiple people had breakdowns, with many thinking that such suffering is destined to haunt them forever. Eventually, with the support of their family they will help each other to get out it. Group therapy guys!!!

#tpn #the promised neverland #I really should avoid letting asks pile up 😭😭😭 #They're all very interesting but they take a while for me to properly sit down and answer to them... Sorry peoples #Anyway this was generally very fun to write? #Except for Phil's part that wasn't fun #Why is writing angst so entertaining? #tpn norman #noremma #tpn ray #rayemma #full score trio #tpn gilda #gildemma #tpn don #gildon #tpn anna #tpn nat #tpn gf children #tpn phil #tpn oliver #tpn gp gang #tpn headcanons #mine #people asks me stuff #I find it very hilarious how Anon felt the need to underline how Norman is part of Emma's family? #Is it because Anon ships NorEmma? Is it because Anon thinks I dislike NorEmma? #Is it because Anon isn't sure whether Norman is part of Emma's family or not? Either way it's hilarious #Thank you for asking I had fun!!! #emma dies au

[atreegrowsinnorthnywrites]

Prompt: "Write a story where one person is trying to say goodbye but keeps getting interrupted."

Short story:

My dad takes his coffee with a splash of cream, and absolutely no sugar, in the swirly blue clay mug mom made. I always pour myself the first cup since I like my coffee black and so hot that it burns going down. Then I pour his, and last I pour Lena’s. She takes hers with enough milk and sugar that it no longer tastes like coffee, so it never matters if it’s lukewarm. Our coffee preferences are a lot like us.

I savor the first sip of that magical, acidic bean juice breathing life into my body before I start my day. I savor it the most at the breakfast counter beside my dad as we tear apart the morning’s New York Times, arguably the only home in the tri-state who still gets it delivered. I tried to explain there was an app for that, but in the last nine months of being home, the app has resorted to desperate notifications to get me to open it. There’s something to be said about holding a physical newspaper and drinking the elixir of life beside my dad every morning.

Lena will roll in around seven, letting herself in through the kitchen door, snatching up her mug, and shimmying over to pepper us with questions that eventually force us to pay attention. “Enough with the vaccine rollout delay in Europe. I have news from Mrs. Down The Street, and it is good.”

My sister, Lena, isn’t a gossip per say, but she appreciates news about tangible people. She wants to know if her neighbors are well and if her friends feel loved and if dad is showering enough. She has a big heart, Lena. She means well, even if the news isn’t always nice.

At seven-twenty sharp we all part ways.

Lena to her second-grade classroom, Dad to his accounting firm, and me to the make-shift office in the sunroom. I work remotely ever since the pandemic began, when my company realized a computer works the same whether it’s in the office or in my apartment. Or at my dad’s. It made it easy when I decided to come home for a while.

With the first ping of my email, my peaceful morning comes to a close. I drink my coffee with vigor and less intention. I squeeze a workout in when there is a lull in meetings at eleven, add everything to the crockpot for dinner at one, wave to dad when he returns around four-thirty, and finish up my last call with the west coast at six. In the evenings I read or watch a sitcom with dad, and sometimes I’ll head over to Lena’s to spend time with her fiancé and their rowdy rescue dog.

I have grown so used to the routine, of being around family again, I nearly fall off my chair when my company announces we can return to doing the exact same things we do at home, in the office once again. Even more so when my boss specifically requests it. I think of my vacant apartment in Chicago, and agree it’s for the best. I briefly consider getting my own rowdy rescue dog.

On my last morning, I arrive in the kitchen at six-thirty, showered and dressed, to brew the first pot of coffee like always. I startle at the sight of my dad and Lena seated at the breakfast counter, the smell of freshly brewed coffee already in the air. They smile when I walk in, and I raise a suspicious eyebrow.

“What-”

“We know you're trying to sneak out to avoid saying goodbye,” Lena interrupts.

“I said goodbye last night,” I remind them, slowly, “at the goodbye dinner?”

“We know,” my dad agrees, clearing his throat.

“Was it not actually a goodbye dinner?”

“Dinners aren’t our thing,” Lena says with a shrug.

“Mornings are,” dad adds.

I am still rooted to the spot, eyeing them distrustfully, when I notice dad is holding one of the plain, white mugs. I look to the coffee pot and see the swirly blue clay mug mom made beside it. I open and close my mouth and no words escape.

“I have a travel mug for the road,” I whisper.

“I told you she would say that,” Lena mumbles.

“We just thought-”

“I should really hit the road,” I interject. I am fumbling for my keys. Everything was packed last night besides the backpack on my shoulder. I did not want dad making a fuss this morning packing the car for me. I am not one to make a fuss. It is one of the reasons I learned to take my coffee black.

“Anna,” my dad’s voice is pleading with me, and I feel my chin tremble involuntarily. “I want to say thank you.”

“Dad, I should really-” He is ignoring me, walking over to the pot of coffee and lifting it without my permission. He pours the swirly blue clay mug to the brim, leaving no room for cream or sugar. Just the way mom drank it, too.

“We can’t say thank you enough for coming home, An,” Lena adds. Her eyes are glassy and I have to look away, out the window to my packed SUV.

“You’ve taken care of us all year,” dad says quietly, standing beside me again, and holding out the mug.

“It’s what she would have wanted,” I manage to utter. I am taking the mug from him, my cold, clammy hands warming immediately at its touch. Her initials stare up at me from the handle, and I fight the urge to cry.

“The cup is yours,” dad adds.

“I should really just use a travel mug.”

“You’re not leaving yet.”

“I want to miss traffic.”

“But I saved you the business and international sections.” He holds up the New York Times and gestures to the middle chair.

“And you won’t believe what I saw when I drove by Mrs. Next Door’s at sunrise,” Lena chimes in, patting the seat.

I look between them, knowing this is a fight I do not want to win. I shake my head and bring mom’s swirly blue clay mug to my lips. I let the first sip of coffee settle into my soul, and imagine her bustling around in the kitchen with us, too.

"Alright,” I concede, shrugging my backpack off my shoulder and grabbing the business section with one hand and clutching the mug close to my heart with the other. “But only until seven twenty sharp.”

#contemporary #fiction #short story #writing prompts #prompt #familial love #familial relations #family #writeblr #writers of tumblr #writers and poets #writersofinstagram

[jewish-space-laser]

Miles & Black Coffee - Part One

“When you’re on a golden sea, You don’t need no memory, Just a place to call your own, As we drift into the zone...” 

-Island in the Sun by Weezer

Hello, and welcome to part one of M&BC! She’s split up into parts, a day late, and a bit rusty... but she’s here! It’ll be my first new piece of writing since I rejoined tumblr, so it’s a bit nerve-wracking. Thank you to Kate @andwhenshesays, Anne @oh-honey-styles, and Anna @for-fucks-sake-h for organizing this entire challenge, you’ve brought so much joy to our little tumblr community. We love you all dearly ♥️ (4.5k words)

xoxoxox Tile

Warnings: mild drinking, mild drug use (just weed)

You and Harry would never be friends. You were up and down, night and day, oil and water. You just didn’t mesh. He was your roommate’s insufferable older brother, and that is all he would ever be. Well, at least that’s what you thought before….

or

the one with campfire conversations, cabin getaways, and enemies that were never really enemies after all.

MONDAY

Pine trees and cornfields flew by in a blur as you stared out the window of your roommate’s minivan. Every once in a while, there’d be a pasture of cows or a horse ranch. It had been exciting at first, but now you were just bored. 

“How much longer?” You called over the music, trying to keep the whine from your voice. It had been hours since you left your apartment this morning, and you’d only stopped once to stretch your legs and take a bathroom break. 

“The GPS says we still have an hour and a half to go,” Callie groaned, stepping a bit harder on the gas pedal.

Normally, you loved road trips, but this particular drive was more cramped than you’d bargained for. There were seven girls packed into the van, and you’d been unfortunate enough to get squished into the backseat with your twin sister and her girlfriend, who hadn’t stopped with the obnoxious PDA since the car got on the freeway. 

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, trying to will away your nauseating carsickness. This week had been marked into your calendar for months, and you’d be damned if you let this god-awful car ride ruin it for you. 

Callie, your college roommate, had a cabin in northern Wisconsin that she’d been raving about for years. She’d been going there with her family for decades, every summer since pre-school, she’d said. According to her, it was a beautiful property, equipped with a private lakeside beach, fire pit, and a full bar. 

It was going to be the perfect getaway. You and Callie had rounded up all of your girlfriends, packed all of the essentials for a spa night, junk food, board games, movies. You’d packed four swimsuits just in case; the weather forecast looked fantastic, high seventies and low eighties all week long. 

It was going to be the perfect vacation. Well, almost perfect. 

Harry was going to be there.

Harry, the constant thorn in your side. Harry, Callie’s older brother. Harry, the one who eats all of your food whenever he visits. Harry, the one who constantly picked fights with you. You and him had never gotten along, not even for a second. 

There wasn’t a single person alive who got on your nerves more than he did. Generally, you got along with most people, but Harry was the exception to the rule. You couldn’t seem to shake him off. 

You weren’t about to let him ruin this trip, though. There were going to be fourteen people staying at the cabin, so it should be a piece of cake to avoid him for a week; there were plenty of other people to interact with. And even if you couldn’t avoid him, you were going to let his inevitable snarky comments roll off of your back. Well, you’d try to, at least.

Perhaps that’s what annoyed you most about him, the reaction you’d have from the smallest fight. With anyone else, it was water under the bridge… with Harry, you thought about it for days afterwards, thinking of better comebacks you should’ve said or ways you could have changed your schedule to steer clear of him altogether. He made your skin prickle with irritation, and turned you into somebody you didn’t like very much. 

It had been months since you’d seen him, not that you’d been keeping track. He typically visits Callie a few times a semester, but his senior year was more intense than he had anticipated, according to his sister. He just couldn’t spare the two hour drive from his university to yours.

But now it was summertime. Gone were the papers, projects, and responsibilities… it was finally time to relax and have fun. You only had one year of college left before graduation, so you and your friends wanted to make the most of it. Harry and his friends had just graduated, so they were at the cabin for their last hurrah before real life kicked in. 

If you were being honest with yourself, you were excited that Harry was bringing some of his frat brothers along. You and your ex had just ended things recently, and you were finally feeling ready to get back into the dating game. Being trapped in a cabin with a handful of cute guys felt like a dream. 

Finally, after what felt like centuries, Callie slowed the car down and turned onto a dirt road. The other girls in the car started desperately peering out the window to get a glimpse of the lake and surrounding forest. 

The moment the cabin came into view, your jaw dropped. You knew Callie’s parents were loaded, but this hardly looked like the rustic getaway you were expecting. There were three buildings, each labelled with a birch bark sign. Two speedboats and a pontoon were docked at the beach, inflatable tubes and paddleboards littered around the sand nearby. 

It wasn’t until Callie parked and shut off the engine that you heard a heavy bass thrum coming from the building marked MAIN CABIN. The other two buildings were labelled GUEST CABIN and SHOWER HOUSE. You were snapped out of it when Olivia and Jane, who had been sitting in the middle bucket seats, swung their sliding doors open and practically fell onto the ground. 

“I don’t think I remember how to walk normally,” Charlie, a girl from your art history class, groaned, “like, we were sitting in that car for so long….”

“Oh, shush,” your sister, Morgan, scoffed, “at least you got to sit up front. I was crammed into the back between these two.”

Both you and her girlfriend, Isobel, huffed in protest, but it wasn’t worth picking a fight over. You’d have plenty of time to bicker later. For now, the fresh air and cool breeze were like heaven after a long road trip.

“The boys beat us here,” Callie remarked.

Sure enough, there were two other cars already parked in the driveway. Back behind the main cabin, a plume of smoke rose into the air. You could hear loud laughter, loud enough to drown out the trap music they had playing. 

“They’ve started a bonfire!” Olivia squealed, clasping her hands in front of her chest. “I’m ready to get partying… it’s four in the afternoon and I’ve spent all day in a car. I need a drink.”

A few others were laughing and nodding in agreement, already making their way towards the boys, but you hung back. You’d party later, but after spending an entire day stuck with six other people, you just wanted to be alone. Plus, you wanted to drink tonight, and you’d never get around to unpacking your bag if you were wasted. 

You managed to dig your duffel bag out from the pile of luggage in the trunk, letting it fall to the ground with a thump. Callie had just been finishing up with a phone call when you looked up. 

“Hey, you’re not joining the others?” She asked. “I was about to head over, they’ve got a fire going. Just had to call my mum to let her know we made it.”

“I’ll join in a bit,” you promised “but I want to unpack my things first… where are we all staying?”

“You’re in the main cabin, I have you sharing a room with Charlie, is that okay?” She questioned. You nodded quickly, relief flooding over you. You liked all of the girls who came on the trip, but Charlie was by far the easiest to get along with. “Harry and I each have our own room in the main cabin, too, so you won’t be alone. Everyone else is in the guest cabin, though.”

“The guest cabin,” you giggled, slinging your bag over your shoulder as Callie lead you into the main building, “this place is swanky, Cal.”

“We host all of our family reunions here,” she shrugged, “we need lots of space. Plus it’s fun for occasions like this… we’re just lucky my dad is letting us use the boats. He treats those things like they’re his own children, only Harry is allowed to drive them this week.”

You made a face at the mention of her brother. “I’ll be staying far away from the boats, then.”

“Oh god,” Callie groaned, “I know you two don’t get along very well, but please try to be civil… we’re here for a whole week, after all.”

“I’m always civil,” you protested innocently, “it’s him you need to worry about.”

“Always civil,” she scoffed, “we both know that’s not true, but I’ll let it slide.”

Okay, so maybe you had a slight temper when it came to Harry, but nine times out of ten, he was the one who started the argument. You were never the type to actively seek out conflict, but Harry seemed to thrive off of it. Whether it was eating all the food from your half of the fridge, throwing his dark blue t-shirt in with your load of whites, or playing his guitar in your living room until three in the morning when you had a test the next day… it felt like he was out to get you. 

And he was never apologetic. Of course not. He probably got off on watching steam blow from your ears. 

You took a deep breath as Callie led you up a wooden staircase, trying not to let yourself get worked up. The cabin was gorgeous from what you’d seen on the main floor. Though you hadn’t lingered, you’d noticed that there was a bookshelf that took up an entire wall, packed to the brim with books with faded spines, vinyl records with worn edges, and an assortment of candles and bookends sprinkled throughout randomly. You couldn’t wait to explore the entire property. 

Photographs lined the walls of every hallway, snapshots of Harry and Callie running around as kids. There was a hilarious picture of a young Harry crying as he held a fishing pole, a bare hook dangling from the line. The Styles family clearly had a great sense of humor. You made a mental note to take a photo of it on your phone later; it would be perfect ammo for the next fight that Harry would inevitably start. 

“This is the bathroom…” she drawled, “no shower though. We all just use the shower house, which isn’t really as bad as it sounds. Just make sure you bring clothes with you, otherwise you’ll have to walk across the lawn in just your towel.”

You grimaced at the thought. As she continued to lead you down the hall, you saw two doors, one with CALLIE’S ROOM written in bright pink bubble letters, and the second with a wooden plaque, the word HARRY written in what was clearly a child’s handwriting. 

“This is technically my parents’ room, but we use it as a guest room if it’s just us kids,” Callie explained, stopping at the last door in the hallway, “they have a king bed, so I figured you and Charlie could just share.”

“That’s fine,” you assured her, not hesitating to drop your heavy duffel onto the side of the bed closest to the window, “this place is awesome, Callie.”

“Right?” She grinned. “I’m stoked for the week, it’s gonna be so fun.”

“You should go down to the bonfire,” you told her, placing a hand on your bag, “I’ll come join as soon as I’m done.”

Luckily, your roommate of two years understood that you needed alone time sometimes, so she left you without protest. 

This was exactly the recharge time that you needed. You were the kind of person who loved being around friends, but there was only so much socializing you could handle before you needed a break to be on your own. Even though you hadn’t spoken much on the ride to the cabin, being squished into a mini-van with six other girls drained your social battery. Giving yourself a moment to breathe and relax was necessary if you were going to rejoin the group.

Pressing the shuffle play button on your spotify, you smiled when the soft melody of your favorite folk song thrummed through your headphones. You swayed from side-to-side as you unzipped your bag, which had been packed to perfection. 

Four swimsuits, a different outfit for each day (plus a few extra items… overpacking is better than underpacking), sunscreen, bug spray, all of your toiletries. It was fun to organize everything into the empty wardrobe by the window; looking at all of your stuff just made you more excited to be here.

Time flew by as you danced around the room. Most of your things were put away, and you’d stashed your empty bag under the bed. The one thing you hadn’t put away yet was your assortment of swimsuits. It had been difficult picking out which ones you wanted to bring, but you’d settled on three bikinis and a one-piece with the sides cut out. You were itching to change out of your leggings and t-shirt; they felt gross against your skin after sitting in the van all day. 

Just as you went to pick up your navy blue sequined bikini top, a hand abruptly clamped down on your shoulder. 

“Holy shit!” You spun around on your heels, hand flying to cover your beating heart. You were less than pleased to find Harry standing there, wide-eyed and trying to mask his amusement by biting down on his lip. 

“Didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” he chuckled, “forgot how jumpy you are.”

“I’m not jumpy,” you frowned, pulling your headphones out of your ears and crossing your arms over your stomach, “what are you doing in here?”

“Nice to see you too,” he scoffed, dimple indenting into his cheek, “I was just using the loo, then I was gonna go back to the party, where we’re having fun. Foreign concept to you, I’m sure.”

You rolled your eyes, turning around so he couldn’t see how hard you were scowling. He always knew just what to say to get your blood boiling.

“Are you implying that I don’t know how to have fun, Harry?” You asked sarcastically. 

“Ah, I knew you were smarter than you looked,” he grinned. “Cute swim top.”

It was only then that you noticed his attire. Well, lack of attire. He was wearing the smallest swimming shorts you’d ever seen, his chest tanned from the sun and completely bare apart from a single cross necklace that hung over his sternum. His hair had grown out since the last time you saw him, and it looked a bit ridiculous with his sunglasses on top of his head. 

He looked good, not that you’d ever admit it. Luckily, you were fantastic at masking your wandering eyes; he had a tendency of walking around your apartment in his boxers during visits, so you’d had plenty of practice.

“Shut up,” you groaned, throwing the bikini top back onto the bed. You’d been planning on wearing that one, but Harry ruined it with his gross comment, just like he ruins most things for you. 

“I’m quite incapable of shutting up,” he mused, throwing himself down onto your side of the bed, “you should know this by now.”

“Trust me,” you were completely unamused, still standing with your arms crossed over your stomach, “I’m well aware.”

“You should come join the party,” he continued speaking as if you hadn’t said anything, seemingly unfazed by how visibly irritated you were, “it’s the first day and you’re already being a buzzkill. Maybe you should try like… try stepping out of your comfort zone, just for the week.”

“Thank you so much for that lovely unsolicited advice,” you said sarcastically, “now if we’re talking about comfort zones, you laying on my bed is definitely out of mine.”

“Please, you love me on your bed,” he smirked, closing his eyes, “this is a dream come true for you.”

“Are you delusional?” You were running out of patience. “Did you hit your head?”

“Why?” He said innocently. “Are you thinking about playing nurse? Because I hate to break your heart, but I’m not into wet blankets. Maybe if you loosened up a bit.”

If he wasn’t gone in thirty seconds, you were going to scream. He seemed to be enjoying himself, arms crossed behind his head with a twinkle in his eye as you stared daggers at him. 

“Are you quite done?” You spit. “I can feel my IQ dropping every time you speak. Plus, I need to change before I come down.”

“Ooh, can I watch?” He waggled his eyebrows. 

That was it. “Harry, get out, okay?”

“Jeez, okay, fine,” he grumbled, rolling clumsily off of the bed, “so bossy, you are.”

You pointed a finger towards the door, leveling him with the steeliest glare you could muster. “Out,” you repeated.

“You should come down sooner rather than later,” he said, completely unbothered, “I’m sure you’ll be much nicer once you’ve had a drink or two.”

He was gone before you could think of a response. The annoyance bubbling inside you was so intense, you felt like you wanted to break something. Instead, you punched your pillow a few times to release some tension, taking a deep breath to compose yourself after.

You wrinkled your nose at the blue bikini top, choosing to wear an orange floral patterned one instead. You’d never give Harry the satisfaction.

~~~

The fire was absolutely roaring. 

It was perfect. The fire pit was lined with wooden logs, the tops shaved off to make benches. There was hardly enough space for all fourteen of you, but you managed to squeeze in as you all roasted corn and hot dogs over the fire. It wasn’t too windy, so you didn’t have to worry about smoke blowing into your eyes, but the bugs were relentless. 

The air around you smelled of smoke, bug spray, and good food. There were a few different conversations happening, and every once in a while, a few people would break out into loud, contagious laughter. 

Harry had tried to talk to you when you came down, but you’d avoided him like the plague. You had absolutely nothing nice to say to him after his snarky comments in your room, and any further interaction with him at this point would just end in disaster. Thankfully, he was quickly distracted by some of his frat brothers, and he hadn’t tried to approach you again all night. 

Now, you were chatting with Olivia and one of the boys, Luke. By the time you’d gone down to the bonfire, everyone was several drinks in. You’d been forced to play catch-up by way of tequila shots, so you had a pleasant buzz running through your veins.

“This is a perfect summer night,” you sighed happily, pulling your skewer from the flames to keep your corn from burning. 

“Almost perfect,” a boy named Archie corrected, “we haven’t been out on the lake yet.”

Harry and three of the other boys had arrived a night early to get the boats ready, and now that Archie mentioned it, the pontoon was looking mighty tempting. The sun hadn’t fully set, but dusk was beginning to settle in, blanketing the forest with pink and orange hues, a gorgeous reflection of the sunset above you. It was the perfect time to go out on the water.

“How do we feel about the pontoon?” You wondered out loud. There was no way you’d all fit, but you could go in groups. 

“It’s too buggy to be on the water,” Callie wrinkled her nose, “I’m getting eaten alive as it is.”

“I’m down, as long as I can smoke a spliff while we’re out there,” James, one of the other boys, shrugged, “obviously I’ll share, I brought tons.”

A few others around the circle chimed in with their interest, and before you knew it, people were standing up to make their way over to the docks. You weren’t the best with names, but much to your relief, you’d introduced yourself to everyone going on the boat. Obviously, you already knew Morgan and Isobel, and were somewhat friendly with Jane, Archie, and James. 

“I’ll come along, too,” a voice behind you yawned. When you turned around, you immediately felt yourself melt. Ryan, a boy you’d had a single class with freshman year, was stretching his arms out as he stood up, and he was looking directly at you with a flirtatious smile. 

You’d had a major crush on him for the entirety of your class together, but you’d been too shy to say anything to him. He was a whole year older, after all, and that had been intimidating when you were eighteen. 

You returned his smile, biting down on your bottom lip shyly. 

“I guess I’m going too, then,” Harry sighed, shoving the last of his hot dog into his mouth before dusting his hands off. 

Immediately, your face dropped. Harry snorted when he saw your expression, digging around the pocket in his swimsuit to retrieve a key. 

“I’m the only one allowed to drive the boats, remember? Dad made me promise.” 

Your shoulders slumped. You’d completely forgotten that Callie had mentioned it to you earlier. You weren’t about to turn down a sunset boat ride though, especially now that Ryan was coming along as well. 

Everyone scarfed down the rest of their food in a rush as Harry went over to untie the boat and make sure it was good to go. You watched as he leaned far over the edge of the dock, so far that nearly fell face-first into the water before righting himself and trying again.. 

“Hey,” Ryan had walked next to you, following your line of sight, “he’s gonna fall in, isn’t he?”

“I hope so,” you giggled.

“You were in my History 204 class, weren’t you? Sophomore year?” He asked.

Your entire body flushed. You didn’t think he’d noticed you at all, let alone enough to remember you years later. Having Ryan up at the cabin, talking to you, felt like a dream come true.

“I was a freshman, but yeah, I think so,” you nodded nonchalantly, “I hated that professor.”

“Oh god, same!” He laughed, shaking his head, “such a drag, just constant pop quizzes!”

“Ugh, yes!” You turned your body towards him fully. “And that midterm assignment….”

“Don’t even get me started,” Ryan pretended to shiver in fear. 

You laughed loudly, and from the corner of your eye you saw Harry turn to glance in your direction. Upon a closer look, he’d managed to wrangle the boat so it was right up against the dock. 

“All aboard!” He shouted.

You rolled your eyes at his ridiculous antics. He always thought he was so funny, especially when you were the butt of his jokes. You hoped he’d be too busy driving to bother you. 

Luckily, Ryan seemed keen to stay by your side, even helping you step into the boat by taking your hand to keep you balanced, so Harry didn’t have much of a chance to say anything. By the time the boat was moving, everyone was sitting in a circle on the floor, clipping in the life jackets that Callie had forced us all to wear. 

As soon as the wind blew through your hair, you tilted your head up and closed your eyes. Lakes didn’t smell great, but you’d always loved it. It was classic, nostalgic. You’d spent every summer of your life swimming in Midwest lakes, so it felt just like summer.

James was true to his word, and pulled out four fatly rolled joints, passing them around with a lighter. You didn’t do this often, but it felt like the perfect moment. The sun was disappearing fast, and soon enough you’d be able to see the stars.

At some point, Harry slowed the engine down to a gentle hum when the boat reached the middle of the lake, getting a couple of the others to help him throw the anchor over the edge. Afterwards, he moved back over to the driving console and fiddled with a few buttons until quiet, staticky music sounded out. He then sat down across the circle from you, immediately accepting one of the joints from Archie. 

You stood up on your knees, and looked around. Water lapped lightly against the sides of the boat, so it took you a moment to find your equilibrium. The silhouette of the tall pines surrounding the lake were awe-striking. 

Nobody wanted to break the silence, so you didn’t. The weed was starting to take effect, making your body feel heavy and your head feel light. You started to lay down, unclipping your life jacket to use as a pillow. Slowly, your friends followed your lead, the sounds of shuffling and buckles popping open momentarily interrupting the tranquil silence. 

You watched the sky change from pink to a deep blue, only turning your head away when the first stars became visible. Morgan was laying next to you, staring straight up at the sky. To anyone else, she looked like she was lost in thought, but you knew her better than that. There was a slight frown, watery eyes, a little crinkle across her forehead... she was worried about something. 

“What are you thinking about?” You asked, trailing a hand down her arm. She let out a long exhale. 

“This is gonna sound so soppy,” Morgan sighed, “but I can’t stop thinking about like… how different I would be if I could just, change things about myself.”

“I like you the way you are,” Isobel frowned, sitting up slightly to look at her, “plus, you can change things about yourself. People do it all the time. New hairstyles, piercings, clothes. You could completely rebrand yourself anytime you want.”

“She’s not talking about her appearance,” you said softly, squeezing Morgan’s hand, “she means… like, changing who you are, at your very core. Things you can’t help.”

“I get that,” Ryan chimed in, “I think about that, too. If I could change one thing about myself, I would make myself more motivated. My life would be so different if I could just… alter one tiny thing.”

“Exactly!” Morgan nodded. “I would… make myself less impulsive, I think. I have so many regrets, and it’s all because I never properly think before I act. I’d be so much better off if I could just learn to be more careful.”

“I like how spontaneous you are,” Isobel hummed, “but I think I know what you mean. If I could change anything about myself, I’d make myself less anxious. Anxiety has always held me back so much… I mean, fuck… I haven’t even come out to my family yet, even though I know they’d support me. I’d be so much happier if I could appreciate the good things in life, rather than stress about how to keep them.”

“I’m with Isobel,” Harry spoke. He’d just taken a rather large pull from the joint, so his voice came out rougher than gravel. “Anxiety is such a bitch, and it’s like, out of our control. It’s kept me from talking about my feelings so many times, and I feel like I’ve missed out on some really good friendships because of it.”

Despite the heaviness of the conversation, you felt happier than you had in a long time. You’d smoked just enough to feel numb, and the waves were rocking against the boat so gently that it felt like you were floating. You took a deep breath in through your nose, feeling the crisp forest air fill your lungs before exhaling. The stars were shining in the cloudless sky, crickets were chirping along the shore, and soft music was filtering through the cheap boat stereo. It was peaceful, listening to your friends pour their hearts out. 

Each person took a turn sharing what they would change about themselves. Archie would get rid of his bad temper, James would become a better listener, and Jane would be less self-conscious. 

“What would you change?” Morgan turned to look at you. 

You and your twin sister were very different people. So different, in fact, that you sometimes forgot that you were identical. In moments like this, when her eyes were watery and hooded, voice thick with sadness and hope, that you were reminded of how similar you could be. 

“If I could change anything about myself….” you mused, closing your eyes. “I think I would… let things go.”

“Let things go?” Archie echoed.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “like, let go of the past. Whenever something bad happens to me, I let it really get to me. Negative memories and feelings just… constantly eat away at me. I wish I could just wake up in the morning and think about the future… because thinking about the past is exhausting.”

Nobody spoke after your confession. Nobody tried to assure anyone that they would be okay, or convince anyone that they didn’t need to change. There was something comforting about lying in a circle with your friends, your sister… even Harry, because you were all flawed, and none of you knew what the future would bring. You all found solace in the fact that you were here, right now, laying in a circle on a boat, with an old jazz song ringing through the air.

And who knows… maybe someday, you’ll all find a way to change the parts of yourselves that bother you. Maybe you’ll learn to appreciate them. Maybe your flaws will end up helping you in the long run. 

But for now, none of you were alone. And that was enough.

~~~

Thank you for reading! I love getting feedback, so let me know what you thought! xoxoxoxoxoooooxxxxxxooooooxxxoooo Tile

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry #styles #pypfc #pick your poison fic challenge #enemies to lovers #m&bc #miles and black coffee #multi-part fic #part 1

[let-it-raines]

your wonder under summer skies (13/18)

Summer in Storybrooke, Maine means one thing for its residents: tourist season. This year, for Emma Swan and Killian Jones, it means relationships ending and friendships changing all the while they attempt to figure out just what their relationship is. It’s somewhere straddling the line between friends and lovers, and there’s no guarantee of a soft landing if they fall into new territory.

rating: mature

ao3: beginning | current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 

-/-

“Okay, so I would recommend doing a buffet. I know a lot of people stupidly think that’s tacky, but it’s not. That way you have a constant flow of food and people aren’t sitting down waiting. The one thing you don’t want is people tapping their foot waiting for you two to be done with pictures so they can eat.”

“Do pictures take that long?” Liam asks.

“Oh my God, Liam,” Anna sighs through the phone, “we have been over this. Yes, pictures do take that long. This is a special day, and you’re going to want to remember it from every possible angle. Plus, you have to have pictures with family and friends, and it’s not a simple thing with a one, two click. Don’t you ever listen? I feel like you have to listen. You better be listening when my sister is trying to talk to you. She deserves a man who listens.”

“Anna, take a breath,” Elsa sighs.

“I don’t know how you’re planning a wedding with this man. I feel like I have to keep repeating myself.”

“You know,” Emma murmurs, rolling her eyes at Elsa, “there is also the option to have all of the pictures done before the actual ceremony. A lot of couples are doing that now. You can have private time with each other so that Liam isn’t seeing Elsa for the first time in front of all of these people, and it can also streamline the time between the ceremony and the reception.”

“But that first look during the ceremony is so special!” Anna whines. “You don’t want to miss out on that!”

Elsa looks up from her phone to look at Liam, and they seem to have some kind of silent conversation. Emma meets with different couples several times a week, sometimes several times a day, and while she’s used to there being questions and disagreements, she’s not used to have the bride’s professional event planner sister asking a million and two questions over FaceTime.

It’s fine, really. Anna is lovely, but she’s a lot to deal with. Emma is so used to spending time with Elsa and it being calm and soothing, so this is throwing her for a bit of a loop.

At least Liam is being nice. He’s been…kinder lately. Emma should question it when he usually likes to be a bit of an ass to her, but she’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Why did she just think that phrase?

Why is that even a phrase to begin with? Who is look a horse in the mouth? Why is it a gift?

“I think taking pictures before the actual ceremony sounds nice,” Elsa finally says, “and so does the buffet. Do you have servers or is it self-serve?”

“We have servers so people aren’t sticking their hands in the food.”

“Perfect. Can you remind me again of the contingency plan for if it rains?”

Elsa and Liam spend another forty-five minutes talking about different options and scenarios with Emma, most of that time spent talking with Anna and listening to plans, but eventually, they’ve covered everything they can and are ready to leave. Emma’s got an appointment with another couple in fifteen minutes, so when Elsa and Liam walk out of her office, she expects them to walk away and go back to work.

She decidedly does not expect Liam to linger around.

“Did you forget something?” Emma laughs, leaning against her doorframe.

“Oh, nothing big. Elsa simply forgot to ask if you were going to bring a date. Anna’s got her obsessing over making sure the envelopes are all addressed correctly, and for some reason she was tripping up over yours.”

“I promise you that I will not be weirdly offended if you guys give me an envelope that says Emma Swan instead of Emma Swan and guest. And tell her not to stress about that stuff. If someone gets offended over how an envelope is addressed, you probably don’t want them at your wedding to begin with.”

Liam chuckles and leans down against the arm of the chair that sits outside she and Mary Margaret’s office. “So, no date?”

“Eh, I don’t know. I’ve still got a month. Maybe I’ll magically fall in love again. Or at least meet a cute guy who would look good on my arm. Or, hey, maybe I can take Killian. He’s a good dancer, would be a hell of a wedding date. I feel like we should probably be each other’s default wedding dates at this point, you know?”

Liam’s smile falters, but it’s just for a second. If she wasn’t used to having to try to read him, she wouldn’t have noticed because just as quickly as it falters, the smile reappears. “He’s seeing someone, you know, so who knows? He might take her.”

“The same someone?” Emma asks before she can stop herself.

“I think so. You still don’t know who she is? I mean – you know, never mind. I told Killian I would stop interfering with his personal life, and I meant it. I can’t keep going behind his back and trying to get information from his friends.”

Emma arches a brow, and she takes a deep breath. Her heart is racing all of the sudden, and she desperately needs it to calm down.

Is this why Liam is being nicer? Because he and Killian had some kind of talk about Liam being too much into Killian’s business? She knew they got into an argument, but how does that translate to her?

Fuck.

Did Killian tell Liam that she was the one he was sleeping with?

No, no, that wouldn’t make sense. Then Liam wouldn’t be asking her if she knew who it was. He can be invasive, but he’s not about to go all FBI or something on her. And Killian wouldn’t do that. It’s against their rules.

“I think that’s probably a good idea on your part,” Emma sighs, pushing off the doorframe. “I don’t know if I’m bringing a date or not yet. Tell Elsa to stop freaking out over the little things, and if Anna gets to be too much, I’m always here to talk about the practical side of things.”

“Thank you for all of this, by the way.”

“It’s my job, but I’m happy to do it. Now go, Elsa is waiting on you, and I’m sure Killian is tired of manning the office by himself.”

“Please,” Liam laughs, “he and Skipper are probably enjoying the silence.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t going to say that. I’m technically supposed to keep my clients happy. Once I’m off the clock, though, all bets are off.”

“I understand. Goodbye, Emma.”

“Bye.”

Emma waves him away, and as soon as he turns the corner down the hall, she sees her next couple. They’re early. They almost always are, and she thinks they might have the same enthusiasm as Anna does…if not more since they ask for yet another tour of the entire grounds because they’re just not sure of what exactly it is that they want yet.

It takes some kind of herculean strength not to scream since this is the fifth tour she’s given them, and their wedding isn’t until next July.

That’s a year that she has to deal with them.

A year.

Why does she do this again?

Oh, yeah, because most days it’s not that bad, and she usually doesn’t go down the wormhole that is thinking the entire wedding industry is a sham and wondering why people get married in the first place.

Is it for the wedding or the actual marriage?

For at least half of her clients, it’s only for the wedding. She’s obviously not some kind of expert on healthy relationships and only does this because she isn’t qualified to do much else that will pay her this well, but at least she knows that it’s fucked up.

When she finally gets the Taylors out of the club, Emma sighs in relief.

And her stomach growls.

It’s the middle of the afternoon, but she hasn’t eaten all day. Damn, she could go for whatever it is they served for lunch in the dining halls today, even if it’s probably cold right now. Emma checks her phone to make sure she doesn’t have any emails or last-minute appointments, and then she heads down the hallways and through the nearly empty main dining room to get to the kitchen.

Her phone dings in her hand, and she stops walking to look at it.

Killian: Why is my brother asking you if you’re bringing a date to his wedding?

Emma: He said something about Elsa being worried about how to address the envelope.

Emma: Wait. How do you know about that?

Emma: Did he tell you that I said I was bringing you? Because I was joking? Kind of. I don’t actually have a date or plan on having one, but you would technically be the most fun date of anyone in the city.

Killian: Why, Swan, are you asking me out?

Emma: Shut up.

Killian: I would love to go with you, for what it’s worth. I promise I’ll be a better wedding date than your last one.

Emma: That’s not much of a bar you have to leap over.

Emma: Do you want to get dinner tonight? I get off at seven.

She waits for the little bubbles to pop up immediately like they have been, but they don’t. Emma doesn’t think anything of it and stuffs her phone in the back pocket of her jeans and starts walking toward the kitchen again only to see Neal and his dad sitting at the table closest the kitchen entrance.

Dammit.

She should have gone through the back doors, but this way was closer.

What the hell is he doing here?

This is where she works.

Yeah, it’s a public place (if you pay a ridiculous member’s fee, which they unfortunately pay), but something being a public place doesn’t mean he can show up whenever he wants to.

This is her space, not his. They broke up, and there’s got to be some kind of unwritten rule that he simply doesn’t show up to her place of work.

He’s already always at Granny’s, which is bad enough, and then there was the fair and the one time she saw him when she had to go to Target for some new pillows.

But this? This is different?

They could have lunch at fifty different places, and the asshole knows it.

He also knows that she’s just spotted him because he’s staring right at her.

Shit.

Does she turn around and walk away or does she walk straight toward them, ignore them, and then head into the kitchen where she hopes Neal has the decency not to follow her in?

Emma doesn’t really get to make the choice, though, because Neal is standing from his chair and walking right toward her, the smile she used to love plastered on his face.

Was it always that disturbing? Did it always look so much like his dad’s?

“Emma,” he calls out. She bites her tongue. She cannot say anything dumb here. It could get her fired. His family are members here, and she doesn’t think Regina is going to give her a pass because of her personal business with them. In fact, she knows that she won’t. “Hey, how are you doing?”

“Wonderful,” Emma says. It’s not a lie. She’s not doing wonderful at this particular moment, but in general, she’s a lot better than she was the last time she was this physically close to him. “Are you enjoying your lunch? Is there anything that I can get you?”

His head tilts to the side, and his smile widens. “Oh, come on, Ems, you don’t have to be in work mode with me. We’re friends.”

Emma grits her teeth and takes another deep breath. She’s sure everyone in Storybrooke can hear them. Her dentist is going to be thrilled. “We are not friends, Neal. You ended any chance of that when you started sleeping with someone else and started working with your dad again. We’ve been over this, and I really don’t feel like repeating myself again.”

“You’re not still mad about that, are you?”

Seriously.

How is this the same man that she fell in love with? Was she blind to all of this? To how absolutely inconsiderate he is about so much?

“I don’t let you take up that much space in my head anymore, but you can’t honestly believe that I’m just going to forgive you for all that you did.”

His eyes roll. They actually roll.

He’s the one who fucked up, and he’s the one who is trying to act like they’re friends. Yet he’s also the one who’s exasperated by her pushback.

What an asshole.

“It’s not like you waited around long after you ended things before you started fucking Jones? And come on, you always told me there was nothing going on between the two of you, but that’s obviously bullshit.”

What the hell?

How does he…no, there’s no way that Neal could know. No one knows, and there’s no way Neal, who never paid any attention to the little things in her life, could know.

“I’m not sleeping with Killian,” she lies, “and even if I was, it would be none of your business since it would have happened after I left you.”

“I saw you two walking around at the fair, and he got fucking defensive over it when I suggested it to him. He didn’t say it, but come on, it’s pretty damn obvious.”

Emma swallows the lump in her throat so she can focus on her breathing. It’s the only thing she can focus on right now so she doesn’t punch Neal and knock all of his teeth out.

What an asshole.

How dare he confront Killian like that? Why did Killian not tell her?

You know what? It doesn’t matter why Killian didn’t tell her. What matters is that Neal is the worst.

“Neal,” she says slowly, her teeth grinding, “you lost any right to know who I am or am not sleeping with the moment you fucked someone else, so please, unless you need something from the club that only I can give to you, leave me the hell alone.”

He blinks, almost like he’s taken aback by her, and his smile falls.

Good.

“You don’t have to be a bitch about it.”

She opens her mouth, a curse at the tip of her tongue, but there’s a voice in the back of her mind that’s telling her this isn’t worth it. He’s not worth it. She’s got to stop letting him take up so much space in her head like she said she’s not. He doesn’t deserve it.

So, not for the first time, she walks away from Neal.

She walks away, knowing there’s only a half of a chance that he’ll bother to follow him, and she heads toward the kitchen. It means that she has to pass Neal’s dad, and she can feel his eyes on her.

The thing is, she doesn’t care.

That part of her life is over, and she’s not going to lie to herself and say that a part of her doesn’t still hurt and won’t hurt when she has to see Neal and Tamara, but she can’t keep dwelling on it.

This summer has been strangely good, and maybe it’s not all that strange since she’s cut Neal out of her life.

“Emma,” Harry, their head chef, exclaims when she walks into the kitchen, her heartbeat racing, “I’m just about to start dinner. Do you want something in particular?”

“What did we have for lunch? I can’t remember the schedule.”

“Pasta salad.”

“Do we have any of that left?”

“In the fridge. Feel free to help yourself.”

Emma picks up a cookie from the half-empty platter next to her. “You know that I will.”

“A cookie before dinner? Are we celebrating something?”

Emma laughs and takes another bite. “Just having a good day is all.” “Well, kid, I hope that continues for you.”

-/-

“Hello?” Emma calls out as she pushes open the front door of Jones Brothers’ Boating. The obnoxious as hell bell goes off, so everyone downstairs should be able to hear that someone has come inside, but no one comes out of any of the offices, not even Skipper.

Huh.

“Killian,” she says as she starts walking down the hallway. “KJ! Are you around?”

There’s still no answer, and when Emma checks the back offices, there’s no one in any of them. She decides to walk up the stairs to the apartment, but when she tries to turn the knob, she realizes that it’s locked.

She’s got a key, could easily let herself in, but if the apartment is locked, that means no one is home.

Where the hell are they?

Emma pulls her phone out of her back pocket and hits Killian’s name. It rings once, twice, several more times, and then his voicemail message comes up.

Well, damn.

This is probably why she should have called first, but Killian never texted her back about the two of them getting dinner. He’s almost always free, and if he isn’t, they’re usually plans she can join in on, but he’s obviously MIA tonight.

Emma swipes through her phone again and calls Elsa.

“Hello?” Elsa questions.

“Hey, Elsa. Have you heard from Killian today?”

“He’s in the back of the ice cream shop. Do you need him?”

“Why is he in the back?”

Elsa groans, and then Emma hears some kind of curse that definitely didn’t come from Elsa. “One of my machines broke today, and when Leroy couldn’t fix it, Killian said he’d give it a go. I don’t think it’s working out for him. Hold on. Let me get him for you.”

“Oh, you don’t have – ”

“Killian,” Elsa yells, her voice booming through the speakers, “Emma is looking for you.”

“Fuck,” he mumbles.

Well, that sounds pleasant.

“I’m pretty sure she could hear that,” Elsa laughs.

“Aye, I know. I didn’t text her back about dinner. Give me the phone.” There are a few hushed murmurings, and then Killian’s voice comes in clearer. “Sorry, love. I’m afraid I can’t get dinner tonight.”

“Oh, well, that’s okay. I’ll pick something up and bring it to Elsa’s.”

She hears him click his tongue, and she’s probably imagining things, but she swears that he’s silent for a few seconds too long. “You don’t have to do that. We can do it another night.” “It’s really not a problem. I’m at your place right now, anyways. I can get us salads from Zoey’s. Does that sound good to you?”

“Uh, yeah. That’s fine. I’m not really sure when I’ll have time to eat.”

“Well, maybe my brain power will help us figure out how to fix the machine.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“You okay?” Emma asks, suddenly worried she’s overstepping here.

Does he not want her to come over?

No, that would be ridiculous.

“I’m perfect, love,” Killian sighs, his voice audibly more upbeat now. “I’ll see you when you get here, aye?”

“Yeah, see you when I get there.”

-/-

Elsa’s store is a mess.

Well, the front is still perfect. All of the round tables are clean and perfectly in their spots, the black and white as classic as it always is, and Elsa is still serving customers and doing custom orders for cakes and birthdays. She’s on the phone when Emma walks in, but she smiles and nods to the door that leads to the back of the store.

It is decidedly not perfect.

Mostly because it looks like Killian has taken one of Elsa’s machines apart piece by piece and he has no idea how to put it back together.

His hair is pushed off his forehead, sticking in at least thirty-seven different directions, and his t-shirt is sticking to his skin from his sweat.

He might be the only person to ever sweat here since it’s usually the coldest place in town.

Elsa’s air-conditioning bill must be insane.

“Hey,” Emma greets, putting their salads down on the table and walking up to Killian, pressing up on her toes to kiss him. He doesn’t kiss back at first, but then he’s there, his lips softly sliding over hers while his hand settles on her hip, squeezing her. “I’ve come to your rescue with food and another set of hands.”

“You’re my savior, love.”

“I know.” She kisses him again, this time much briefer, before sitting down on one of the chairs Elsa keeps back here. “Where’s Liam? Why is he not helping?”

“I’m better with fixing things. He’s manning the shop.”

“No one was there when I stopped by.” “What time was that?”

“A little after seven.”

Killian nods and pulls his salad out of the bag. “He was taking Skipper out. Thanks for this, by the way.”

“Not a problem. You think you’re going to be able to fix this?”

“I think I’m nearly there. I’ve tested it out a few times, but it’s all been for naught. Elsa is going to bloody kill me if I keep giving her hope and then take it away.”

Emma pulls their salads out of the bag, taking the lid off hers and pouring some dressing on before putting the lid back so she can shake it. “She’s got the other machines, though. Can’t she still make flavors?”

“Aye,” Killian sighs as he starts tinkering with the machine, “and she’s got a pretty good stock of all of the flavors. It’s not an emergency, but she wanted me to look at it before she called someone to come fix it. It apparently does not come cheap.”

“Look at you coming to the rescue. Getting those brownie points.”

“And access to the freezer.”

“That will balance well with our salads.” Emma stabs some lettuce with her fork. “You will never guess who was dining at the club today.”

“Cindy Crawford.”

“What?” Emma laughs as she takes a bite. “Why would Cindy Crawford be there? Also, that is the most random guess.”

Killian pokes his head out from behind the machine. “You said to guess. You didn’t say it had to be reasonable.”

“Okay, a reasonable guess then.”

“August Booth.”

“No, but that would be interesting. Is he back in town?”

“I have heard the rumor. So, who was dining at the club today?”

“Neal.”

Killian drops whatever tool he’s using, and it bangs against ice cream maker before clattering against the floor and landing near her foot. “Fuck.”

“Exactly my thoughts,” Emma laughs, kicking the screwdriver back to him. “But, you know, it wasn’t that bad. He was an asshole, of course, but it felt kind of good telling him to fuck off. He told me he thought we were sleeping together, which he apparently told you at the fair.”

“Uh, yeah, he did mention that. I denied it, of course.”

“He was always jealous of you. I don’t know why, but he hated when we spent time together.”

“Well, love, I am devilishly handsome. That’s bound to make any man jealous.” Emma rolls her eyes. She can’t see Killian’s face, but she just knows he’s smirking. “None of our actual friends have picked up on it, so there’s no way in hell Neal actually would. He doesn’t pay enough attention to me, never has.” Emma takes another bite and slams her hand down on the table. “But you know what? I don’t care. He can do whatever he wants, because I’m moving on. I’m happy and busy and life is pretty damn good even if I do have to take you as my date to your brother’s wedding.”

She keeps eating, waiting for Killian to say something, to tease her really, but she just hears him muttering to himself as he keeps working.

“You’re still cool with that, right? I know you said you’d love to, but you know, if you start dating someone else, go with her. I don’t mind going by myself.”

Killian pops out from behind the machine and walks toward her, leaning over the table and placing a soft, lingering kiss on her forehead. “There is no one I’d rather go with than you, love.”

“You don’t have to. Seriously. You know our deal.”

His beard scratches over her forehead, and he pulls away. “I know. I’d still be honored to go with you.” He sits down across from her as he opens up his salad. She gets distracted watching him. The lighting in here is all fluorescents, and it shouldn’t be flattering, but Killian’s tan still shows up, his eyes are still ridiculously blue, and there’s still something so charming about his smile. She watches it as it falls into a flat line, almost curving down into a frown, but then she sees the curve tick upward. “I’m glad you’re happy, Emma. I’ve always wanted that for you.”

She nods, unsure of what to say. “You too, KJ. You know what would make me extra happy?”

“What?” “If you could steal me some of Elsa’s birthday cake ice cream later.”

“Your heart’s desire, love. That’s all I want you to have.”

-/-

-/-

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#your wonder under summer skies #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfic #captain swan

[allicekitty13]

A Garden On My Skin

Read On AO3 Read On FFN

In a world where every scar produces a floral mark on the body of your soulmate in the same spot Alice Brandon tries to find the one who's caused her body to look like a garden.

Alice was strange; her skin was covered from head to toe on almost every surface of her body in flowers. Alice, like so many others, was blessed with a soulmate. Every beautiful flower on hey body represented a scar received by the individual to whom her heart was connected.

It started when she was a baby, at least that's what her mother had told her. At just five months old, the first flower appeared on Alice's shoulder. It was a reasonably common occurrence; her mother assumed her daughter's soulmate must have been in their terrible twos, causing trouble that ended in injury.

Alice was one when her mother woke up to find that a dahlia had surfaced on her daughter's leg overnight. Two flowers on a one-year-old was less common but not entirely unheard of. Lilian Brandon hoped that her daughter's soulmate would grow to be a bit more careful. 

By the time Alice was of school-age, however, Lilian was fretful. Her daughter now had six flowers; a number most people would accumulate over their lifetime, not in only five short years. She dressed her daughter in long sleeves and pants to cover as much as possible, leaving only the rosebuds that framed her left eyebrow exposed.

Lilian didn't mind her daughter's floral embellishments; it wasn't something that could be helped; instead choosing to teach Alice to appreciate the gift. Her husband looked at things differently. Edgar had always hated the flowers; the small lilac on Lillian's left knuckle had always been a source of tension between the two. Not everyone had a soulmate, and Edgar had no flowers while the local librarian had a small scar on his left knuckle. Lilian did not go to the library often. 

At sixteen, she was old enough to understand what the markings meant. Old enough to recognize that most people didn't have a soul mate, to fully know that people treated those with markings a bit differently. It was a societal standard to keep your marks concealed wherever possible, never to discuss them. Alice couldn't do that. There were lilies on her cheek, a rose above her eyebrow, a lilac on her neck. Her arms long since covered by so many overlapping flowers, it was hard to identify them all. 

She didn't allow herself to be bothered by the marks, the stares she got on the street, or how people in her town did not want anything to do with strange little Alice. She loved the garden on her skin, spending a lot of time alone thinking about what must be happening to this person. Why and how they must be getting hurt so very often. It seemed as though a new mark would appear every few months. She worried for them, were they safe, did they think about her. She often wished she could skip all the in-between and go find them.

She was sixteen when her life took a dark turn. One morning, she had woken up to find the police in her living room carrying the news of her mother's passing. I was a car crash, deemed an accident, but Alice couldn't quite bring herself to accept that. A week later, the library closed temporarily; the librarian had drowned. His death had people talking; the townsfolk gossiped about Lillian Brandon having an affair with the librarian, how the man had drowned himself out of grief when he had heard of her passing.

Alice had other suspicions; she had felt that her father had a hand in her mother's death from the get-go. He would put up a good show of playing the part of mourning husband with the police and the mourners who came to pay respects, yet acted as though nothing was wrong when it was just he and Alice alone in the house. 

She felt as though her suspicions had been confirmed the day after her mother's funeral. She witnessed her father handing a strange envelope to a shady stranger at the memorial service. A week later, he moved a woman named Anna-Marie into the home. They were engaged within the week, married within the month.

Alice hated her new step-mother, the way she would dote on her in public, playing the part of a loving parent. At home, Anna-Marie was distant, cold; she wanted nothing to do with Alice. Sadly it seemed neither did Edgar. The only solace she took was in the genuine care and adoration given to her younger sister. At least no matter what happened, Cynthia would be Ok.

Alice knew what was coming long before it actually did. She'd had her escape planned out for weeks. Alice would wait for Edgar and Anna-Marie to leave for town without her, then grab the pre-packed backpack hidden in her closet and run. She would go through the woods and search the country for her soulmate; surely, they would care about her. Surely wherever they were would be better than here. 

She had made it just far enough into the woods that no one in town would hear anything that may transpire deep in the woods. Whoever her father had hired to follow her wasn't very discrete. She'd heard the footsteps long ago, the crunching of leaves and occasional snapping of a twig. She'd tried to lose them but had been ultimately unsuccessful. She recognized the smell of gunpowder first, hearing the sound of the gunshot mere milliseconds later. Alice understood what had happened before registering the pain letting out a soft chuckle as she fell to the ground. She felt as though she lay there for an eternity silently crying as the life faded from her body before everything went black. Unconscious, Alice didn't notice the strange man who silently approached. Didn't feel as he bent over, sinking his fangs into her throat. However, she did notice when he unclenched his jaw from her neck, and the most intense pain she believed possible spread through her body like fire.

----

When Alice opened her eyes, she was alone in a small, dark, wooden shack. She looked around at the space from the bed she had been placed on, trying to figure out how she got here. The last thing Alice could remember was the bullet hitting her back, and then... so much pain. Now, her throat was burning; she needed water. No, not water... but what? 

Alice stood, needing to find something to relieve the pain she felt in her throat when a man entered the one-room shack; he held his hands out, indicating he was not there to harm her. He tossed an unconscious rabbit at her feet. She immediately understood what to do, picking it up to drink deeply; the blood coated her throat, ceasing the burning sensation temporarily. 

Alice would spend the next five years with this man, whom she learned to be named Carlisle. He explained how he'd found her bleeding to death in the woods and turned her into a vampire just before she had passed on saving her life. Carlisle taught her about vampiric customs, how they lived in secret, and how to hide in plain sight amongst humans. How he fed off of animals and how to hunt. 

As much as Alice enjoyed her time with Carlisle and eventually, his wife, Esme; she still wanted to find her soulmate, as new flowers continued to show up every day. So she bid the couple farewell, promising that she would return one day.

Three years later, she met Charlotte; Alice was working as a sketch artist in Philidelphia when she encountered the woman on a walk late at night. She had never seen another person with as many marks as she had and immediately approached the woman. Charlotte was kind, explaining how she and her soulmate Peter had been involved in vampire wars in the south. They had both been bitten numerous times during battle; consequently, they both had gardens just like Alice. 

She stayed with the pair for a month when she approached Charlotte with a question. Alice pulled down her sleeve to expose a long scar on her left shoulder blade. She wanted to know if Charlotte or Peter had ever seen anyone with a matching mark during their time in the south. Maybe just like the pair,  her soulmate had been involved, thus the reason for her floral prints. The couple shared a mutual look of realization; Peter nodded in affirmation before leaving abruptly.

Charlotte sat down with Alice, prepared to explain some things. She told her about a man named Jasper, a man who'd had his entire worldview shaken apart the day a rose vine appeared on his shoulderblade. Not only was Jasper involved in the wars, but he was also a significant player. Jasper was the right-hand man of the leader of one of the most powerful covens in the south, the very same coven from which Peter and Charlotte had escaped. Charlotte confided in Alice that he had been questioning his role in the disputes for decades, how Peter had gone back countless times, risking his life in attempts to convince Jasper to leave. It had taken that rose vine to change his mind, to make him realize just maybe there was something better out there for him. He had been looking for her ever since.

When Peter returned alone, Alice wished she could cry; she had wanted desperately to find this man ever since the day her father had brought Anna-Marie into their home. She wanted someone to honestly care for and understand her. When Peter told her Jasper was waiting at the train station, she'd never run so fast in her life in her haste to get there. 

He was waiting as promised; suddenly nervous, she hid behind a stone pillar just hidden from view, taking him in. He was a tall, stoic man; even from a distance, Alice could make out a rosebud on his neck in the exact same spot Carlisle had bitten her years ago. When he turned his head slightly, she was able to make out a pair of striking red eyes and an expression of apprehension. With a sudden surge of courage, she stepped out into full view, taking cautious steps toward the man who now stared at her. 

They stood there for a moment, each taking the other in neither speaking, both of them just existing in this long-awaited moment. The instant Alice looked into his eyes, she felt comfortable; he seemed so familiar as though she had known him her entire life. It was an instant, overwhelming connection, and in that moment, she knew that she would never leave his side.

"Hi, my name is Alice." She broke the silence, finally extending a hand.

#jaliceweek20 #Jalice #alice cullen #jasper hale #Twilight

[imherongraystairstrash]

Sophideon (part 1)

A/N: I’m writing this because I feel like Sophideon is so underrated. These characters went through hell and back, even though they are the kindest and softest couple in all YA history. So yeah. This is all about Thomas being born. Hope you enjoy! 

Dust danced in the light as Sophie looked out towards the garden from where she was sitting on a blanket, in the grass. Her ankles ached from her pregnancy, and she found her options for spending the days limited. She decided to take up knitting, which she had been taught when she was younger by her mother. Sophie scarcely sat still, a result from always being told that anytime not spent working, was time badly spent, at a young age. And yet, Sophie couldn’t stand up. So, she’d put her arms to work. She’d done so much knitting, she found herself not having to even look down at her stitching to knit. She kept her mind occupied by watching her two daughters playing, who were unpredictable enough that they had to be supervised.

Sophie put a hand to her belly. “I hope you don’t give me as much trouble as these two, little one.”

Barbara and Eugenia were playing about in the garden, no doubt imagining they were in a fairytale as Barbara sat on a tree and Eugenia called out to her. Barbara produced a piece of string (which she must have stolen from her mother) and let it fall to the ground, where Eugenia held it, and began trying to climb. Sophie lurched.

“Eugenia,” she called. “Don’t even think about using that string to climb up that tree.”

Both girls looked at her with their large eyes and blinked. Sophie deepened her gaze.

“All right, Mama.” said Eugenia before turning to face her sister. “Can I be the princess now?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I am older and I make the rules.”

“Your rules are horrible.” Eugenia said, and stomped away.

“Where are you going?” called Barbara.

“With Mama and the baby.”

Eugenia sat down on the floor in front of Sophie, twisting pieces of yarn around her finger.

“When will the baby be born?”

“In a couple of months, Genie.” Sophie reminded her.

“I want it to be born now.”

Sophie shook her head, smiling, and went back to knitting. Barbara was still in the tree, making a bracelet out of yarn.

“When I am an older sister, I’m going to be the princess in the tower.”

“Then who will be the prince?”

“My new sister.”

“Or brother.” Sophie said.

Eugenia scowled.

“I thought you did not enjoy being the prince.”

“I do not, mama. That is why the baby is going to be the prince.”

Sophie set down her knitting needles. “Have you ever heard of the saying ‘treat others the way you would like to be treated’?”

Eugenia pressed her lips together. “Yes.”

“Well then, if you do not like being the prince, why would you make the baby be the prince?”

“Because it is unfair!”

Sophie’s lip twitched, which caused Eugenia to look at her scar.

“Sometimes,” Sophie said, “life is unfair and we must make do with what we have.”

Eugenia nodded, looking down.

Sophie softened her gaze.

“Do you want me to teach you how to sew?”

Eugenia looked up, eyes wide.

Sophie beckoned her over, and Eugenia got up and stood beside her. Birds chirped as Sophie taught her how to cast on.

“How about we make a scarf?”

“I want to make a blanket.” Eugenia said. “For the baby.”

Sophie smiled and handed over her knitting needles.

“How do you feel about finishing this one for me?”

Eugenia smiled and nodded, knitting slowly as Sophie occasionally offered guidance.

“Is it ready yet?” Eugenia asked, an hour later.

Sophie laughed. “It’s a bit too small for the baby.”

Eugenia sighed.

“If you want, you could use it for one of your dolls instead.”

Eugenia nodded and watched Sophie cast off the small blanket.  

Having gotten bored of sitting in the tree and talking to herself, Barbara came over to them.

“I am going to Cousin Anna’s house.” she announced. “She does not mind being the prince.”

Sophie sighed. “You have to wait for your father to get here, darling. I cannot take you.”

“But they live only a block away.”

Sophie handed the finished blanket to Eugenia.

“Honey—”

“I am five years old, Mama.”

“Oh, all r—”

Sophie gasped and held a hand to her stomach.

Both of her daughters looked at her with wide eyes. Sophie bit her lip.

No, she thought. It’s far too early

“Mama?”

Sophie groaned.

“Mama!” There were tears in Eugenia’s eyes

“Get your Aunt Cecily.” She managed to gasp.

Barbara stood there in shock. It was Eugenia who got to her feet and ran to where Sophie could only hope, was the Lightwood-Herondale’s home.

Sophie’s contractions deepened. She shut her eyes against the pain.

“Sophie!”

Cecily came rushing over and kneeled down beside her.

“I think I am in labour.”

Cecily’s eyes widened.

Before they entered the house, Sophie’s water broke and that was all the confirmation they needed.

 ...

Cecily got her to bed and called the Silent Brothers, who came immediately. Sophie finally allowed tears to flow down her eyes after Barbara and Eugenia were taken to their aunt and uncle’s house.

“I’m going to get him, Sophie.” Cecily said.

“He’s in a clave meeting.” Sophie felt tears rushing down her face.

“A clave meeting does not matter more than thing. Gideon will want to be here.”

Sophie held her gaze.

“Hurry,” she said.

And Cecily was gone.

 ...

The inquisitor was droning off when Cecily walked into the council room with the air of defiance she always had surrounding her. All of the people in the room turned and stared, shock written across their faces. Many men were looking her up and down, which made Gabriel want to strike them. She bore an expression of cool resolve, however Gabriel knew there was something wrong. She walked up to the Consul and whispered something into her ear. Charlotte nodded and Cecily walked over to Gideon, who was seated beside Gabriel.

“Continue, please, Inquisitor Bridgestock.” Charlotte said, when he paused.

Cecily spoke to Gideon, her voice barely audible to anybody else in the room. Gideon’s eyes opened widely and asked Cecily something. She nodded and said one final thing to Gideon before his brother stood up and walked out of the room, Cecily taking up his place. Gabriel’s confusion must have shown on his face because Cecily got a hold of his hand, hidden from prying eyes and squeezed it tightly. Later, he read on her face.  

 ...

Gideon must have looked like a madman as he zipped through the streets of Idris and tumbled into his home. Cecily must have taken his daughters to her home, most likely hoping to spare them from the frightening events that were about to unfold.

“Sophie.” He said, bursting into the room.

“Gideon!” Sophie could barely speak through her tears.

Gideon practically ran across the room and held her against his chest.

“I’m so sorry.” she whispered.

“Do not apologize. It’s not your fault, darling.”

“I cannot stop it any longer.”

Gideon kissed the top of her head.

“Then let it be. I have faith in the Angel, for I had faith when you ascended, and faith when we went to the battle in Cadair Idris.”

Sophie wiped her tears and nodded.

That was when Brother Enoch told her it was time.

And Sophie pushed.

 ...

From the moment the baby came out, it was taken away. Sophie did not lay back like she had done when her daughters were born. She stayed up, her legs still in a birthing position, and tried to catch a glimpse of her child. It had been so quick compared to the other times, when her daughters had let out a hearty bellow. This time, no sound came until a couple of seconds later when she heard it.

A whimper.

It would have been barely audible, had they not been holding their breaths. Sophie’s heart shattered. She hadn’t even registered that she was falling backwards until Gideon’s arms caught her.

Gideon hugged her and muttered words in her ear, his voice cracking. She dug her face in his chest. It was too soon. Her baby didn’t even have the strength to cry yet. She wanted so desperately to see it, but she could barely feel her legs after the potion she had been given to slow down the birth.

“Please go.” She told Gideon. “Tell me what our baby looks like.”

Gideon shook his head. “You deserve to see him as well.”

“Gideon. Please.”

He looked into her eyes.

“Look at our child before it passes away. Let it see it’s father, before it sees The Angel.” Sophie could barely speak.

“It will live long enough for you to hold, Sophie.” He said intensely.

Sophie just looked at him.

“Please, Gideon. Tell me if I gave birth to a boy or a girl.”

Finally, he nodded and kissed her forehead before he got up. She watched as some of the Silent Brothers made way for him. She could not see the baby, but she could see her husband as he put a hand to mouth, briefly stumbling backwards. She watched as he righted him and took a step forward before being stopped by the brothers. She knew one was talking in his mind by the way he nodded and walked away. Sophie didn’t remember ever seeing Gideon like that. The way he walked over to her with his head down. The pain on his face.

He sat down beside her, as she made room for him on the bed. He was looking down at his hands that were tense enough to see the tendons. He closed his eyes and his shoulders shook. Sophie put her hand on his.

“It’s a boy.” He said.

Sophie felt her other hand go to her mouth. A son. Gideon pulled her in her arms and buried his face in her hair.

“How does he look?”

She felt his tears roll down her back.

“He looks dead.” He managed to say.

Sophie knew she was soaking Gideon’s shirt with her tears, but the thought of pulling away was too painful.

“They are taking him to the Silent City.”

“Will he live?”

She felt Gideon’s head shake. “They don’t know, my love.”

Sophie felt as though someone just squeezed her heart. Those six months she’d carried her baby boy, felt him kicking, and now he might not even live long enough to be held. Tears brimmed in her eyes again. Her face and throat ached from all of the tears. Her body ached from having given birth. But worse of all, her heart ached for her son. Her only son, who she loved so dearly before he was even born. Who she would love until her dying breath. She wished to hold him and kiss his nose. She wished he was still inside her, so that he could grow properly and healthy. So that she could hold him in her arms.

“I’m sorry, Gideon. I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

“I must have done something wrong that induced the labor. I—”

“Sophia, you did everything just right.”

He wiped her tears and kissed her forehead.

Gideon tucked her back into his arms and they both watched The Silent Brothers’ backs as they worked to keep Sophie and Gideon’s only son alive.

Tagging: @lucieblckthorn (if you want me to tag you for either all of my fics or just the second part of this one, message me through tumblr!)

#tsc #tsc fanfic #tlh fanfic #tlh fanfiction #sophideon fanfiction #sophideon fanfic #tid fanfiction #barbara lightwood #eugenia lightwood #thomas lightwood #thomas lightwood fanfic #Sophie collins #sophie lightwood #sophie collins fanfic #sophie lightwood fanfic #gideon lightwood #gideon lightworm #gideon lightwood fanfic #tid fanfic

[sunflowersunshinevol6]

Differences

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Warnings: vampirism

Summary: When the world is taken over by vampires, humans are kept on farms and in blood draining factories. When Harry meets Y/N he decides to save her from that fate, intoxicated by her scent, he wants her as his own live in meal. But Y/N hates vampires and Harry’s favoritism does not go unnoticed by other vampires who hate it when others stray from the status quo 

“I’m at the factory my dear. I’ll be home after.” Harry hung up his phone, shoving it into his pocket as he got out of the car. 

Being a vampire in the twenty-first century had never been easier.

With the Revolution behind them, immortals had finally come out of hiding, taking over the world. It had been the New Founding Fathers, a council of the oldest, wisest vampires still alive, that had decided on starting the blood farms and factories. 

Harry owned two, a blood factory where humans were hooked up to machines that drained them of their blood. They were well fed before the blood letting would begin, then their bodies cremated and the ashes thrown out. The blood farms were where humans were kept for the first twenty one years of their lives. They worked for the vampires, mindless labor that needed done, they were bred, fed and then led to the slaughter. Harry owned one of each. 

He usually preferred to spend time on the farm, he knew it was hypocritical but he despised the blood factories. He missed the simpler times of enticing a victim, lulling them into a false sense of security and then draining them. Where was the excitement? Where was the thrill? It wasn’t there anymore. 

“Harry! Good to see ya!” Niall, an irish vamp with an affinity for the human sport of golf, clapped Harry on the back, a large grin on his face. Harry had trusted Niall to oversee the factory. Niall was a good vamp, kind, never looking to overthrow his authority. He wouldn’t have anyone else running the factory. 

“Hi Niall, how are things?” Harry asked as they walked through the main entrance. Harry looked around to see various vampires in white coats and humans hooked up to the heavy machines. The humans were in various states of consciousness and paleness as their blood was drained from their bodies. Harry shivered with disgust. 

“Never get used to it do ya?” Niall asked, opening the door to his office. Harry shook his head. 

“Sometimes I miss the good old days,” Harry said, collapsing in the seat across from Niall. 

Y/N held onto her sister tightly, burying her face in the girl’s neck. They’d been in the truck for ages, someone had thrown up, a few had peed. It was hot and crowded and everyone looked as sickly as they felt.

“Sissy how much longer?” Y/N whimpered, she felt Anna grip her tighter, rubbing soothing circles into her back. 

“Not much longer Y/N. Just hold on. I’m gonna do a cartwheel when we get there. Stretch my legs.” Y/N had lived on the farm with her parents and twin sister most of her life. When her parents were reassigned the girls were five years old. They took care of one another and raised each other. Now that they were twenty one they were grateful. Many of the others with them would be relocated alone, but not them. They were in this together.

The truck finally came to a stop. Y/N sighed in relief as did others, when they heard the lock outside be lifted and saw the door opened. Y/N shielded her eyes from the brightness of the sun, she couldn’t remember when she had last seen it, but the sky was blue and the air was fresh. For the first time in a long time hope bloomed in her heart. Maybe this new farm would be great.

The hope that had sparked was immediately snuffed out when she was yanked down from the truck with her sister. 

She had heard rumors of blood factories. But they had always been just that on the farm, rumors. Now her blood ran cold as she looked up at the giant grey building surrounding her. Blood factories were the last place humans were sent according to rumors. It was where the vampires took them to die. 

“Anna!” Y/N screamed as she felt her sister’s hand ripped from her own. One of the vampires slapped her hard, the sound echoing across the lot as the group was split up, some going left and others going right. 

Y/N hated them. Always had. They had been human once. Could they not see that the only difference between them was a pulse? Sure a few vampires felt that way, the system was horribly broken. Humans were at the bottom of the food chain, expendable for the greater good. One of the vampires gripped the underside of Y/N’s arm, tugging her to a large smokestack, she did her best to hold back her tears. She would never let those bastards see her cry. 

“And that’s about it. Two more truck loads worth will be sent out today. Everything is going good.” Harry nodded, legs crossed, elbows on his knees and fingers against his pursed lips. Business was booming, as it always would, human blood was a necessity. 

“I don’t thank you enough for all you do here Ni,” Harry said sincerely. Niall grinned. 

“Just give me a raise and we’ll call it even.” Harry chuckled, getting to his feet. “I’ll walk you out.”

He smelt it as soon as Niall opened the door. 

It was honey, and lavender and roses, maybe a little bit of dirt, something earthy. But it had his fangs ready to come out and venom filling his mouth. Niall looks at him, concerned with Harry’s sudden stillness. 

“Do you...do you smell that?” Harry asked, his eyes wide, scanning the factory floor, looking for the scent he was dying to have a taste of. He hadn’t felt such a rush in years, his fingers twitched. 

“No,” Niall said confused. “Are you alright?” Harry didn’t answer. He let his nose lead him as he walked down the isles of humans. If he had a heartbeat it would have picked up tenfold. 

Y/N struggled, she kicked and fought with the vampires that held her down, trying to place the IV in her. 

“Just give her a sedative.”

“No way, it’ll taint the blood.”

“I’m sure the vamps that love to get high won’t mind.”

“You just want to put in the least amount of work possible-”

“Hey!” Y/N stopped struggling, looking up wide eyed and desperate. The vampire who spoke was beautiful. She may hate them, but she could admit that. Bright green eyes, perfectly red lips, pale skin like marble and beautiful curly brown hair. He wore a simple black button up and black trousers. When he had spoken it was with authority and the vampires holding her had stopped what they were doing without a second thought. “Let her come to me.”

“Harry what-” another vampire, one who stood behind Harry, spoke, but Harry held up his hand, never breaking eye contact with the girl. He lifted his other hand, motioning to her.

“Come pet.” Y/N cringed inwardly at the pet name, but did as she was told once the other vampires released her. She walked up to him, refusing to look away. She would not be intimidated. 

Harry looked down at the girl fondly. She smelled like heaven and he wanted nothing more than to drink her dry right there and now. He reached up, keeping his eyes on hers as he brushed his cold hand against her flushed cheek. She didn’t move, didn’t shiver as others had. She was stubborn, determined to not be afraid of him. He liked that. He liked it a lot. 

“Harry?” Niall asked again. Harry slowly turned his eyes away from hers to look at his friend. He wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders. 

“I’m taking this one with me mate.” Harry said with firm matter of factness. Niall only nodded while the other two vampires sighed with relief. The girl however, was not pleased. And she made it known. 

She shoved herself away from Harry, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“I’m not going anywhere with you, filthy blood sucker!” Harry grinned, he couldn’t help it. No way she could overpower him, it was quite...cute. 

“You’re a fighter,” he said, reaching out and wrapping his arm around her waist. He tilted her chin up with his hand, forcing her to look into his eyes as they began to glow red. “I like that about you.” he didn’t even know her name. But she was going to be a fun one, he could tell. As she gazed into his eyes her body began to slump, she closed her eyes and he lifted her into his arms. Niall was shaking his head, laughing. 

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to play with your food?” Harry shook his head, joining in the laughter as Niall led him to his car and helped him set the girl in her seat properly. 

“You know I’ve never been very good at behaving.”

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #hs one shot #hs imagine #hs fic #hs1 #hs2

[thecassadilla]

Change of Pace - Chapter 2

Pairing: Kristanna

Chapter 2 on AO3 

Chapter 1

Word Count: 3,332

Summary: With her sister’s blessing, Anna takes a step back from her royal duties and finds herself working for a ski resort nestled in the mountains. A chance encounter with the resort’s maintenance technician leads them down an unexpected path, as they must work together to plan the resort’s annual ball - and maybe fall in love in the process.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! Sorry to leave you all with a cliffhanger last week! This chapter picks up on the same day but from a different perspective ;). I’m thinking I’m gonna update on Tuesdays every week if that’s cool? Or should I try to update more often? Also, if you celebrate Thanksgiving, I hope you enjoy the holiday safely! Sorry for all the asterisked words - tumblr likes to censor and remove posts from tags if they have “bad” words in them, but the uncensored version is on AO3. Enjoy!!!

There were very fews words that Kristoff Bjorgman would use to describe his life; miserable, mundane, ordinary. From the minute he woke up in the morning until the minute he went to bed at night, he wished he were someone or somewhere else.

Nobody stayed in Valley of the Living Rock - often shortened to Valley - if they could help it. The main draw to the area was Valley Ski Resort, which was nestled in the mountains. For decades, the town flourished during the winter months, but suffered as warm weather drew near due to the resort’s influence. Most of the people who stayed in town year round lived above their means, as it was difficult to find and keep work when the money practically dried up in the summertime. That all changed when the resort began to expand - adding amenities such as a pool, archery, horseback riding, and a multitude of events that attracted people during the hottest months of the year.

After the resort expanded, the local government decided to put money into the town itself, enticing visitors to venture away from the resort during their visits and see what the town had to offer. Tourists began to appreciate Valley itself as a picturesque, quaint town they could visit during their stay at the resort, and money began to pour into the local economy. Deciding to take full advantage, the decision was made for the main street to be transformed to a “Winter Wonderland,” with the storefronts adorning themselves with string lights, wreaths, and pine garland in the colder months. Business boomed and as the years went on, more and more people came to visit.

For Kristoff, life in Valley was bleak. Abandoned at birth, it was difficult to navigate the foster system as a small, generally “unwanted” child. He was bounced around a lot in his early years before becoming one of the lucky few who managed to find a family willing and able to foster him until adulthood. But people talked, and in small towns like his, that gossip traveled fast. By the time he made it to high school, he had hardly any friends. The only good thing that had ever happened to him - aside from his family - was his ex-girlfriend, Joslyn. She moved to Valley in their senior year of high school, and was as much of an outcast as he was. They became fast friends and eventually started a relationship. She stuck around for a few years and attended the local community college while they dated, but like everyone else who had the opportunity, she eventually moved on. The breakup was amicable and he admittedly missed her from time to time, but also understood that where she was going was bigger and better than what Valley - and he - had to offer. 

As a junior in high school, he’d managed to snag a job at Valley Ski Resort as a janitor, and then after he graduated, he took courses in plumbing, electricity, and heating, ventilation, and air conditioning in order to be promoted to a maintenance technician. It was a year round job with sh*tty pay, but it put food on the table and he had to take whatever he could get. On the bright side, it was a step up from cleaning bathrooms and mopping floors. There was no escaping Valley, for a person like him.

He didn’t mind the work at all, but there were few words to describe how much he loathed the hotel. The people who visited were willing to spend a fortune on the amenities, but were generally unkempt behind closed doors. He could think of several occasions where he’d nearly slipped on a used c*ndom after being called to a guest room for maintenance, or how frequently the pipes would clog because people were determined to flush non-flushable items. 

But still, he went to work everyday, and waited to go home. He did what he had to do and he hated every second of it. The only advantage of working at the resort was the employee ski pass that came along with it. He frequently spent his weekends navigating the slopes and had worked his way up to expert-level. Coasting down the side of a mountain was freeing. For those few hours, he could put aside the monotonous life that he lived and could focus on what was right in front of him. 

On this particular day, he had a sinking feeling about heading into work. He just knew that something bad was going to happen - he could feel it in his chest. He debated calling out, but because he couldn’t afford to miss a day without pay, he had to go in, bad feeling or not. The feeling only got worse as he climbed out of his car and stared at the main building in front of him.

The interior of the resort was in desperate need of an upgrade; faded, worn-out gray carpet covered the floors of the lobby area, and old-school style wood paneling laced the walls. The guest rooms in the central building remained the least expensive as a result of this, and as part of the resort’s expansion process, dozens of stand-alone cabins were built on the property. Difficult to maintain, but guests were willing to pour money into spending a week in a luxury cabin with the same amenities as a hotel but with the added benefit of a home-y feel. 

He walked in through the employee entrance, which happened to be situated right next to the lobby area but was only accessible from the outside. Down a long stretch of hall and then to the left sat the maintenance office. One of the perks of the job was that he didn’t have to wear coveralls like he did when he was a janitor; just dark-colored jeans, a company-provided shirt with the hotel’s name stitched onto the front, and work boots. He dropped his jacket in his locker, grabbed one of the work cell phones so that the front desk could reach if he was needed for a repair or other issue, and walked into the main office, where his boss, Andrew, was scrolling through his email.

“Hey, man,” he said.

The other man glanced back for a second before returning to his work. “Hey, Kristoff.”

“What’s on the agenda today?”

“Nothing crazy,” Andrew responded. “A couple of rooms complained of low water pressure, so we’ll have to check that out. It’s probably calcium buildup that’s clogging the showerheads, or a clog, or something. But aside from that, it seems like it’s going to be a pretty normal day.”

He heaved a sigh of relief. “Thank god.”

He didn’t mind working with Andrew; he was quiet and kept to himself, which Kristoff appreciated. It was easier to work with someone who didn’t waste half the day with gossip or other nonsense. Having a job was about getting work done, after all.

Andrew had a list of the rooms that had been experiencing the low water pressure from the front desk complaints, so when he finished answering his emails, they set off to figure out what exactly was happening and why it was happening. “I bet another pipe froze again.”

“This hotel is so old, do they even realize that the pipes probably have to be replaced?”

“They know, they just won’t listen,” Andrew said, shaking his head. “This is going to be a losing battle for the rest of eternity.”

Just as they made it to the first floor of guest rooms, a call came over on Andrew’s work phone. They stopped in the middle of the hallway so he could pick it up. 

“Hello, this is Andrew from maintenance,” he answered, scrunching his face up in concentration. “They said the water smelled bad? Did they say if it was a weird color or anything?...okay, we’ll look into it. Thanks.”

“Another water complaint?” Kristoff asked, once Andrew had hung up the phone.

“Yeah, something weird is going on today.”

“Probably a frozen pipe, like you said.”

They knocked on the door of the first guest on their list, and a woman answered. “Are you the maintenance guys?”

“We are ma’am. The front desk told us that your water pressure is low, do you mind if we come in and take a look?”

The woman shook her head. “I didn’t say low water pressure. I said no water pressure - as in, there’s no water, at all.”

The two men exchanged a worried glance before Andrew spoke up again. “Do you mind if we have a look?”

The woman didn’t answer, but stepped out of the way so they could walk into the room. They went into the bathroom, and attempted to turn the faucets to no avail. 

The woman was standing in the doorway, her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. “Well?”

“We’re trying to figure out what’s going on, ma’am. We’re going to check in with a few more guests and the front desk will get back to you.” 

“I’m taking my family skiing, and all I have to say is that the water better be working when I get back or someone will be getting an earful from me. I did not spend all of this money to wind up in a room with no water!”

They nodded in an attempt to placate her and as soon as they made it back into the hallway, she slammed the door in their faces. 

“God, I hate this place,” Kristoff muttered.

“I don’t understand how people on vacation can be so f*cking miserable. Management will make sure they get a more expensive room on the house if there’s nothing we can do about it, so I don’t really see the point of throwing a fit.”

“I know. It’s kind of disgusting how entitled some of these people are. I understand the frustration, but don’t yell at the people who are trying to figure out what the problem is.” Kristoff shook his head. “Let’s go to the next one.”

The routine seemed to repeat itself; the rooms were occupied by extremely angry guests who were experiencing a myriad of plumbing issues - either little or no water pressure, foul smelling water, or rust-colored water.

“Something big is going on here. Bigger than just a frozen pipe,” Andrew deduced, after visiting several guests’ rooms and being called a few more times by the front desk. “I can’t figure out what it is though.”

“Do you think a pipe burst somewhere?” he suggested.

Andrew shrugged. “I can’t imagine where. There are guests in basically every area of this hotel and no one has called about a leaking ceiling. Unless it was something in the basement.”

“We should go check.”

The two men scrambled to the basement, but as cold and neglected as it was, there were no signs of water damage anywhere. Just a lot of dust and noise from the systems that were housed down there.

“I’m stumped,” Andrew admitted, throwing his hands in the air.

“It has to be somewhere in the building. None of the other buildings or lodges have complained about issues with their water, right?”

The other man skimmed the list in his hands. “Nope, just this one.”

“Are there any places that guests and employees normally wouldn’t go during the day? The lobby’s fine, the children’s center is fine...wait, what about the ballroom?” Kristoff snapped his fingers.

“Oh sh*t, we should check the ballroom,” Andrew agreed. “No one goes in there unless they’re having some kind of an event.”

“I bet that’s where we’re going to find our problem.”

They raced back up to the first floor and passed the front desk to the corner of the hotel that housed the ballroom. Andrew searched through his massive ring of keys before locating the one that unlocked the doors. 

“Holy f*ck,” Kristoff gasped, his eyes widening at the site in front of him. 

The entire room was destroyed. The ceilings had caved as a result of the massive amount of water that had pooled from the burst pipe. Nearly everything in the room had been destroyed from either the water damage or from the impact of the broken pieces of ceiling landing on it. The walls were moist, and there was a considerable amount of water remaining on the floor. 

“How the hell did no one hear this?!” Andrew bellowed.

“This...is bad,” Kristoff said, shaking his head. “This is thousands of dollars worth of damage.”

“I need to get Bonnie on the phone,” Andrew said suddenly, walking away from the scene.

Kristoff continued to stare in the meantime; the room was significantly damaged. First and foremost, the pipes would have to be replaced - immediately. They were already going to be spending a large amount of money for the repairs, and they definitely couldn’t afford to lose the income that guests would bring in by occupying the rooms in that building. They’d have to drain the water that pooled on the floor, rip out the carpet and gut the walls, throw away all of the destroyed tables and chairs. 

When Andrew came back a few minutes later, he was not happy. “Bonnie is on her way and she’s having a cow.”

“Can you blame her? This is a nightmare.”

“I need to see if I can get any of the other guys in today. They’re going to be p*ssed.”

“I’m here and I’m p*ssed,” Kristoff scoffed. “I knew I should’ve called out today.”

“Good thing you didn’t because I would’ve had to haul your a*s in anyway.”

“Yeah, right. Zach calls out once a week and no one ever does anything about it. The rest of us are forced to pick up his slack all the time - if I called out once, it wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

“Trust me, Zach isn’t going to be employed here for much longer.”

Bonnie finally arrived a moment later with a panicked look on her face and interrupted their conversation. “What the h*ll happened?”

“See for yourself, boss,” Andrew answered, motioning to the entrance to the ballroom.

Bonnie peered inside before staggering back and raising her hands to her face. “Oh my god.”

“The damage is severe, Bonnie. The repairs are going to be time-consuming, and you’ll have to postpone any events that they were planning on holding here,” Andrew spoke up. “Most importantly, the guests in this building have to be relocated until we can replace the pipes.”

Bonnie nodded, and for the first time that Kristoff had ever observed, she was totally speechless. In all his years of working around her, he’d never seen her so quiet.

“I’m working on getting my other guys in here,” Andrew continued. “This is not going to be an easy fix.”

“Alright,” she said, before pointing at Kristoff. “You go tell the front desk to start working on getting the guests out of this building and then come back here.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes once his back was turned; this was not his job. He wasn’t an errand boy. But because he wasn’t trying to lose his job, he begrudgingly followed her instructions. Once he arrived in the lobby, approached the first person he saw at the front desk, a brunette woman with thick black eyeliner who he recognized from high school.

“Hey, you need to -”

She raised a finger, but didn’t look in his direction. “Hold on, I’m helping my guest.”

“This is important.”

“Sir, you should get in line.”

He glanced over at the line - which was long, because it was checkout time, of course - before interrupting again. “I have orders from Bonnie -”

That seemed to catch her attention. “Let me get my manager out here.” 

“Thanks.”

A few moments later, the manager appeared from a door behind the front desk. “How can I help you?”

“I work in maintenance,” Kristoff explained. “Bonnie needed me to tell you that guests can’t stay in this building for a couple of days. A pipe burst and there won’t be any water in most, if not all, of the rooms.”

The manager's eyes widened. “O-okay. What about the restrooms on this floor? Or the restaurants and the bakery?”

“We’re not sure what the situation is with those areas of the hotel.”

She nodded. “Okay, well keep me posted. There are a lot of places on this floor that require the use of water.”

“Has anyone called to complain from any of those places?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, we’ll keep our fingers crossed that they’re unaffected, but I’m sure Bonnie will be in touch soon.”

“Thank you.”

He gave her a slight nod before turning around and walking back towards the ballroom; for the first time that day, someone had actually been appreciative and not downright condescending about the situation. He was just glad that she didn’t rip him a new one like all of the guests had earlier. 

“Good, you’re back,” Bonnie said once he finally made it back to the ballroom.

“Any updates?”

“I just made contact with the people in the event planning office,” Bonnie explained. “They’re coming down now. I need you to wait out here for them, so you could tell them about the damage. The annual ball is in three months and this was their venue.”

“I should probably start clearing stuff out of there,” he insisted, hoping to remind her that he was not her personal secretary or a professional bearer of bad news. “We can’t start gutting it out until the water is drained and all of the damaged furniture is removed.”

“You need to stay right here,” Bonnie said snidely, placing a hand on his shoulder before walking away.

“Is she serious?” he wondered aloud, his mouth agape. He really was her errand boy, wasn’t he?

“Hey man, Scott and Dan are both on their way in now,” Andrew said, approaching from inside the ballroom. “Liam and Eli are outside doing snow removal. I’m trying to get in touch with a couple of the other guys, but some of them have to be in for the overnight shift. Management has to take pictures of the damage for insurance reasons before we can touch anything, but we should be able to start getting rid of the furniture later today.”

“I have to wait here and break the bad news to the event planners,” he responded bitterly. “Because I’m not the maintenance guy today, I’m her errand boy.”

Andrew shook his head. “She’s really pushing her luck. She should be the one to tell them since we warned her that the pipes would need to be replaced a long time ago and she brushed it off.”

“You know, I had a gut feeling that today would suck. Wish that I could’ve been wrong.” 

“Should’ve checked the calendar, man. It’s Friday the thirteenth.”

He scoffed. “I’m not superstitious.”

Andrew shrugged before taking a few steps backwards. “I’m just saying.”

As soon as Andrew’s back was turned, he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. It was quite the coincidence that this had all gone down on a day historically known for the bad luck it brought. He reminded himself that he didn’t believe in that stuff; this was a real life situation that had only happened because of sheer negligence from Bonnie and the other people who ran the hotel. If they had just listened from the start and had replaced the pipes when Andrew recommended they should, they wouldn’t even be in this mess. He didn’t necessarily believe in curses either, but at this point, he was convinced he’d done something wrong in life that warranted this misery. 

Until he spotted a gorgeous redhead he didn’t recognize being dragged in his direction by the half-a-head shorter lady he knew from around the hotel, and he was suddenly aware of a new sensation different from the misery and dread he was used to - a hopeful fluttering in the pit of his stomach.  

#kristanna #kristanna fanfic #anna #kristoff bjorgman #frozen #frozen fic #my writing

[anywhozits]

All I Really Want

Rating: M

Pairing: Kristanna (eventually hah)

Verse: 90s High School AU

Notes: chapter one of my first frozen multichap! yayyy but warning it’s an emotional roller coaster (naturally, because teen angst and all)

Read on Ao3, too!  

Champagne popped, fireworks cracked, loud screams of excitement echoed throughout the large Mediterranean style-mansion in Newport Coast, California. Everyone in the house counted down the seconds until 1997 and celebrated the victory—the host’s software company had ended the year with the most fiscal prowess of any software company in the country.

Ten.

Right—The Company that Agnarr Larsen had founded and owned had hit a milestone. 10 billion dollars in sales worldwide in 1996.

Nine.

They’d opened some international subsidiaries. Most recently one in Oslo, Norway.

Eight.

Within the last month it was finally acknowledged that The Company had the first fully developed Internet Strategy of all the tech companies.

Seven.

Whatever “Internet Strategy” meant.

Six.

Agnarr Larsen had thus gone all out. He and his wife, Iduna, spent a sickeningly large sum of money on this party.

Five.

The theme—70s Disco / Studio 54 because 1997 had one number in common with that decade.

Four.

At least 35 Cirque-employed go-go dancers served drinks, danced on tables, and strutted their stuff throughout the house.

Three.

They had exactly five separate disco balls, an indoor and an outdoor dance floor, properly themed food, and an incredibly well-stocked open bar that left the guests in awe.

Two.

And in the corner sat a girl with striking red hair, alone, again… as always, sipping on some champagne she thought her parents would care she swiped from the open bar.

They didn’t.

One.

More fireworks went off, bursting into sparks of gold, blue, red, and white right on top of the hill behind the house.

The girl—Anna—didn’t look up. She remained seated on the couch, crossing and uncrossing her legs, taking sip after sip of champagne. It was damn good champagne. Despite having no actual knowledge about the quality of sparkling wine after only 14 years on this earth, she could tell this was some quality shit. Cristal. It even sounded fancy.  

God was she bored.

Her blue eyes scanned the crowds. Everyone was yelling, throwing their hands in the air, hugging and kissing each other.

She had no idea where her parents were. Agnarr and Iduna Larsen. The very hosts of this party. This was their house. This was her house, too, then, she supposed. The cold walls, the empty halls, the wide-open spaces that most of the time housed one or two or three people only. It was a nice house, though.

And all of that—well, everything in her life—was owed to the success of her father’s company. The Company. She knew nothing of the specifics other than it being some kind of tech software situation that clearly allowed them such a large sum of money that they were comfortable at the very least. Comfortable was Agnarr’s favorite word to describe their unnatural and disgustingly wealthy lifestyle.

Looking around again, Anna saw no trace of them anywhere.

Well—classically her mother was nowhere to be found, blessed with the uncanny ability to seamlessly blend in with the furniture at these types of parties. Well. Actually… with Iduna, it always went one of two ways. Either 1) she hid out somewhere using her stealthy camouflage skills as the night progressed or 2) she took on the role of belle of the ball, effortlessly engaged in radiant conversations with every partygoer. The difference between those two perfectly outlined by one simple distinction—whether it was a Bad Day or a Good Day.

Today was a Bad Day. Anna could feel it. Her mother’s absence more-than confirmed that blatant fact.

But still no sign of her father.

Anna rolled her eyes and gulped down more champagne. Her stomach dropped. Worst New Year’s ever. She was always required to attend these stupid Company parties because it looked good for her dad to have such a supportive youngest daughter.

And she loved parties. But.

But she wished she had somebody, anybody even remotely close to her age to share this with.

Because even though their house was filled with people, filled with people having the time of their life, she still felt so... lonely. Maybe even the loneliest she had felt in a long time.

She knew she’d feel this way. Anna had really tried her best to preemptively remedy the situation, asking her dad if she could invite her best friend, Kristoff, to the party. But of course, Agnarr had grumbled something under his breath about how that would be a bad look.

Shaking off all of that frustration, Anna slowly rose from the couch, making her way past a few scantily clad go-go dancers, trying her best to push away the cocktail meatballs and the fondue skewers they kept trying to shove into her face.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a flash of her father, finally, standing next to a couple of his business school buddies, all of them wearing custom tailored suits with bowties and sunglasses even though they were indoors. They carelessly swung their glasses of Cristal and laughed hearty belly laughs.

Anna thought maybe she could join this conversation. Seemed fun enough.

But when she made it close enough to hear their conversation, she stopped in her tracks. They hadn’t noticed her approaching, of course. They never did. Being invisible to her father and his cronies was one of her biggest talents.

Even still, she backtracked a bit, allowing herself to hide behind the series of potted plants that lined their living room.

“I kept telling her we already had the perfect kid—why would we risk the second one? But she didn’t buy it. She wanted Elsa to have a sibling. And look where we are now.” A series of masculine laughter—guffaws more than anything else—broke out.

Anna gulped. This wasn’t new. She’d even heard it all before. Her father’s go-to party story.

But then he said it. The punchline. Stated in such a light-hearted manner with a characteristic shake of his head. “We should’ve stopped after one.”

Anna stumbled backward. It always hit her. It always hurt her. Her fourth time hearing this dumb story and it still felt like being punched in the gut.

And yet… here she was at this party alone and bored and miserable trying to please him. Hoping maybe one day he would change this story. Maybe one day he would stop telling it altogether. Because she was here. She tried. She made the effort.

It didn’t seem like it was too much to ask. Things used to be good. They used to spend time together as a family.

Tears stung her eyes. She totally should’ve just said fuck you to her dad and gone to Kristoff’s house like she wanted.

Whatever. Right now, all she needed was an escape. Anna desperately wanted to get the hell away from him.

Thus, she took off in a jog toward the kitchen, the echoes of her father’s continued laughter taunting her remorselessly.

On the way, she caught her reflection in a golden floor length mirror. Her jog slowed to a halt.

She sighed, staring deeply at her reflection. Poofy but also flawlessly curled, her usually chest-length red hair now only fell to her shoulders. Anna gave it a quick toss, adding even more body to the curls.

She stared harder, looked closer.

Both frosted pink lips and electric blue eyeshadow brought out every single feature of her face—her piercing blue eyes, her soft yet diffuse freckles, and the eternal flush of her cheeks no doubt heightened by the Cristal. She sighed, carefully biting her lip so as to not mess up her lipstick and touched the thin silver choker around her neck. One of her Christmas gifts from Santa. From her parents, duh. She knew that. But… it still felt like it came from Santa.

Anna sighed again.

She thought she looked okay. Just okay.

Now she wished she’d worn something different. Sure, the aqua sequined dress framed her body well. The straight neckline and spaghetti straps were cute. And naturally she did love that the dress fell to her upper thighs, something she figured her parents would take issue with. But again, that was exactly the reason why she’d chosen the dress in the first place.

She wanted a response. She craved a response…

But she only looked okay.

One more sigh and she decided it was time to move on.

Thankfully it didn’t really matter how she looked while she did the thing she really wanted to do next.

Anna took one last moment to look at herself. To psych herself up for what was to come.

You got this, Anna. You’ve done this loads of times before. Tonight is no different.

Because.

There was somebody she wanted to talk to. Somebody she needed to talk to. It was a new year now. 1997. Maybe 1997 was their year, maybe in 1997 they’d be close again.

Her heart beat heavily and quickly within her chest. Faster yet when she reached the kitchen… when she picked up the clunky gray cordless phone.

She had the number memorized. Duh. Anna called her sister, Elsa, at the minimum once a day.

Elsa very rarely picked up. Elsa very rarely called her back. But every so often, like a glimmer of hope, she did.

It was like 3:06am for Elsa and Anna knew that she was probably asleep. She knew, logically, that the chances Elsa would actually answer the phone were about 0.2 out of 10, but… there was that glimmer. Because Anna needed it. Because it was a new year and…

Anna couldn’t help it as the thought crossed her mind again. It now played on repeat almost like a chant. Or… a cheer.

No.

A prayer, honestly. It was a desperate prayer.

Maybe 1997 was their year. Maybe 1997 was their year. Maybemaybemaybe.

God did she hope 1997 would be their year.

After Elsa got shipped off to boarding school in the 6th grade because of her super human intelligence level that apparently could only be properly nourished by snooty institutions on the East Coast, the two sisters had largely lost touch. Elsa was busy with academics and the consistent string of pressure her parents put on her as their successful and perfect first-born daughter.

But lucky for Anna, Elsa had a shiny new Nokia phone that she got for her 18th birthday.

Anna dialed the number and held her breath. The sounds of more fireworks and more chatter and more people being beyond obnoxious filled the background and Anna decided it best to lock herself in their massive pantry. It was quieter there. She could drown out the sounds of everybody to the point that she only heard the phone ringing, her heartbeat, and that same nervous and hopeful mantra.

Maybe 1997 was their year.

The ringing stopped cold. And then one aggressive beep later and Anna thought she might start sobbing.

She couldn’t hide the quivering in her voice. “Um, Elsa. Hi. Happy New Year!” Tears welled up in her eyes. “Um. It’s dad’s dumb disco party right now and everybody’s being so loud and boring, and I have nobody to hang out with, so I thought maybe…” Her voice cracked. “I thought maybe you’d be free, but. I guess you’re not. You’re probably, like, sleeping or something. Which makes sense, um, because. Time difference or whatever. But. I thought, maybe, since it’s New Year’s and all that you’d be free or still awake or something. Um.” Maybe 1997 was their year. A sob caught in her throat. “I miss you, Els. I really miss you. I know we don’t talk that much, and I know you have so much going on and school is stressful and I’m just your annoying little sister. But. I love you. I feel…” Anna took a deep breath in. Tears rolled at a steady pace down her cheeks. “Um. Never mind. Can you just—can you give me a call when you get this? I’d love to talk to you.” She couldn’t hold in the sobs anymore. Instead of a singular crack she broke down fully, her voice quaking with frantic cries. “I miss you, Elsa. I love you.” She had to take a minute to catch her breath. “Um—bye.”

The second Anna pressed end on the phone she collapsed onto the floor. She hadn’t bothered turning the light on in the pantry and now she was thankful for the darkness. It somehow comforted her. Like she was in an entirely different dimension. She needed that escape. Shit did she need that escape.

She didn’t know what to feel. She didn’t know how to feel. Her entire body was numb.

Why did she ever let herself get her hopes up again? It always ended the same way.

Disappointment.

This wasn’t their year. It was never going to be their year.

She was stuck in this endless cycle of loneliness and rejection and abandonment and she would never break free. Never.

#frozen #fanfic #fanfiction #anna #elsa #90s #kristanna #alternate universe

[philomenafm]

(NATALIA DYER, DEMI GIRL) - Have you seen PHILOMENA CARMICHAEL? PHILLY is in HER/THEIR SOPHOMORE year. The WILDLIFE SCIENCE MAJOR is 20 years old & is a TAURUS. People say SHE/THEY are WHIMSICAL, PATIENT, APATHETIC and UNPREDICTABLE. Rumors say they’re a member of CALLOWAY. I heard from the gossip blog that SHE CONCEALED MURDEROUS EVIDENCE  (JAMES. 21. EST. THEY/THEM.)

ive done sm switches bt. she is the one. she is the one i love. trust me. ples. this is an old intro n im frankly. too lazy 2 read it bt. i love her a lot shes very good please like her

TW CANCER, TRAUMA, DEPERSONALIZATION / DEREALIZATION DISORDER ( ALT. DISSOCIATION ), DEATH, DECAY, MAGGOTS.

aesthetic.

wildflowers in your hair and bare feet against moss, binoculars and maps, madonna beating out of half-dead speakers in a half-dead van, whipping wind, jumping off cliffs and rolling down hills, a bandaid wrapped around each finger, cryptic bumper stickers and cryptids in the woods, facing the sun and letting the rays hit you, counting stars late into the night, dancing naked in the woods with nothing but fire to light your way, mismatched socks and lucky ribbons, hoarding a box of special treasures, shoplifting and diner-dashing, bleach against roots, pink sweaters paired with ripped fishnets and slip dresses with knock off uggs, willingly wearing crocs, glitter stickers, fungi and feeling one with them, lying down and decomposing, they’ll find us in a week. they’ll find us in a week.

basics.

full name: philomena brontë carmichael

nickname(s): philly, phil, etc.

b.o.d. - april 20th, 2000

label(s): the amaranth, the halycon, the neophyte, the wanderer, etc. etc.

height: 5′4″

hometown: woodside, ca

sexuality: demisexual

pinterest ( & her family pinterest b/c they’re my most developed family uwu)

stats

favorite song: wonderfully bizarre, bendigo fletcher / we can be defined by the things we want / i’ll be a life full of free haircuts from the one that i love / we’ll collect fallen out teeth in a candy jar / mice for the backyard peregrine falcon reservation.

background.

a middle child belonging to christopher and imogen carmichael - two stanford professors. christopher specialized in british literature whilst imogen specialized in the classics. hence the name.

the order of siblings goes as such: lysander, elektra, juno, philomena, and twins orion & valora. the deal was that everybody had a greek (or in juno’s case, roman) first name and a middle name inspired by a piece of british literature circa 1800s and under. a family of nerds, if you will.

so, clearly - right off the bat, their parents are … eccentric. they’re both in love with their respected topic, and with each other, and with their kids. the carmichael family is a happy family.

they each have their own quirks and whatnot - though philly’s always been particularly dreamy - even as a child, she’d spend hours watching clouds or caterpillars or the leaves blow in the wind rather than play with other kids. she wasn’t a shy kid - she just had her own interests.

hardship doesn’t hit the family until philomena is five and starts having splitting headaches. they’re slow at first - but as soon as she’s seeing spots and unable to walk in a straight line, doctor appointments are made.

it doesn’t take long for them to discover the tumor, though the official diagnosis of malignant ependymoma comes a month later.

it’s grade ii but slow-moving, small enough to not be as much of a threat as worried, but big enough where removal is necessary. philomena earns a scar and brings it in for show-and-tell. for two months afterwards, philly’s at radiotherapy monday through friday.

they’re lucky - philomena’s considered cancer-free by the next year. she’s babied at first - handled delicately, as if she could break if touched - but with five other children … it doesn’t last for too long.

and life continues as normal.

her personality doesn’t shift much over the next few years - she’s awfully independent for a kid, and awfully quiet - when she speaks it’s about faeries and bigfoot, about how the sky is so blue and if you listen quietly, you can hear the leaves whisper their secrets to each other. this is not odd.

she’s close to all her siblings, but she idolizes her older sister - elektra. elektra’s six years older and dyes her hair whatever colors she wants. elektra bought a knife off a seedy guy downtown. elektra threw away all of her heels and renounced god. elektra is god. her music is loud but it’s not heavy - it’s florence and the machine.

they’re opposites - elektra’s boisterous and feels loudly, philomena’s softer and feels…less. when elektra sneaks out, philomena keeps watch. they are a duo.

philomena is smart - but she’s fifteen and hates school. hates sitting inside all day. hates the same routine - day after day - it’s all the same. her parents’ routine is the same, philly feels contained and she wants to live.

elektra’s twenty-one and just bought a brand new spanking (used but not falling apart) 19-something volkswagen … van - using her entire savings account. she says she’s tired of routine, she’s leaving the next day.

naturally, philomena stows away in the back and isn’t discovered until they’re two states away and she’s got to pee. elektra nearly crashes the van in shock.

it’s an argument - philomena vs. elektra, then them vs. their parents, then their parents vs. the school, the state - it’s an ordeal. philomena switches to an online program in the end.

it hurts christopher and imogen - lysander’s not having any of their nonsense, juno’s betrayed and alone - the twins are twins. in the end, it’s alright. the carmichael family is a happy family.

philomena and elektra take their time - it’s not a road trip, it’s their new life, permanently on the road. they stop and explore often - they do odd jobs in whatever town they settle in. they dine-n-dash, they shoplift. they survive in their own way.

during particularly desperate times, they two resorted to identity theft & credit fraud - getting away with it only by ditching the cards once they’ve made it out of state.

she drops out of high school officially when she’s seventeen - they have to drive all the way back to california to deal with the wrath of their parents and to deal with paperwork, but it’s done. philomena doesn’t know what path she wants in life - but it’s not that.

it’s during this time that the episodes occur - philomena’s outside her body, philomena’s wrapped in cotton, her memories are not her own. she’s looking in the mirror and she doesn’t recognize herself. they take shelter in a city for six months, long enough for her brand spankin’ new therapist to figure out what’s wrong with her. she’s diagnosed with depersonalization / derealization disorder - they think it’s stress. philomena doesn’t get stressed. they think it’s trauma. she laughs - she never laughs.

there is trauma though, deep-rooted but somewhere inside - you just have to look for it.

you. just. have. to. look. for. it. look for it. look for it. look for it look for it look -

you were ten and she was thirteen, an off-trail hike in familiar woods in a familiar town, safe and familiar. it was your idea, to stray from the carved out paths, down creeks and up hills and round, and round again. you’re the one who spotted the scarf first, sticking up from the dirt and dancing in the wind like the beginning of reincarnation. it was not reincarnation, it was discovery. it was ruin. with curiosity drawn, you skidded down - with compliance, followed juno, followed your sister - clumsy in her steps and tumbling down quicker than you. you saw the corpse, but juno felt it. decaying flesh and maggot.

and she left juno, just like that - just five years later, when juno had finally gone to the end of her wits. philly up and left. abandoned her.

philomena and elektra leave the city after that therapy session. they do not return. she’s always been good at hiding her secrets.

three years later and her parents want philly to have a higher education - desperate for it, really - worried for her future. it’s a battle that she loses, getting her ged and applying to a local college in florida in shameful compliance.

they’re there for a year until philly gets (expectantly) expelled from the community college & the two of them are banned from the town they’d residing in up until that point. they don’t talk about it - but boy, was it one hell of a time.

they found refuge in preaker, a town that seemed to suit them well - it suited elektra’s desire to travel up and down the east coast, and it intrigued philomena enough to the point of her being content with staying. soon after, philly officially transferred to yates for her freshmen spring term & theyve been here since.

(whenever anna brings cillian uh. he’s in here too he’s been traveling w them fr like 3ish years. i just cannot rewrite atm KDSGLSDKLGKFGHLKSL bt hes here. n hes sexy. n we love him. bro3tp)

OH. hey yeah the secret. errmm. tht’s on cillian. philly just hid the evidence. no they didnt kill someone yes they did no they did not <3 yes

personality & facts.

she’s quiet but she’s confident - her voice sounds like rustling leaves, if leaves smoked a pack of cigarettes a day.

often underestimated - philly’s petite and looks like she’d fall over if a plastic bag blew too close to her. she’s independent - for the most part. elektra is the only person philly takes orders from.

has always been considered odd - weird, strange. still talks about the trees as if they’re listening, as if they’re old friends. she’s vague and doesn’t elaborate on the things she says.

believes in pretty much any superstition you throw her way. luck is very important to her. if you ask her if the earth is flat, she’ll say probably. believes strongly in bigfoot and the lochness monster. has personally seen aliens, and loves ghosts almost more than herself.

she can be amusing - whether you ‘get’ her or not, her outlook is often bright - she talks about the negatives the same way she talks about the positives. can be seen as naive or gullible, but she’s plenty smart. even if half of her education has come directly from google.

philly doesn’t laugh. a smile, yes - often, in fact - not always reaching her ears, or bearing teeth - but these are not indicators of her happiness. philly is consistently content. she thinks many things are funny - she still will not laugh.

her voice is often monotonous - she doesn’t sound dreary, she sounds far-away. her voice carries. her emotions are often unknown to others.

is apathetic in most situations. she’s hard to bother - she’s incredibly patient and enjoys the company of most - tolerates them at the very least. it’s hard for her to express her emotions, because she feels them so little that it’s very nearly not worth it. her affection is not verbal - it’s small touches and gestures of kindness, love in her own way.

is a fan of knock-knock jokes and bad puns. she won’t crack a smile while telling you them, nor does she expect you to laugh. she just enjoys them.

she owns a motorola razr covered in puffy stickers - hasn’t ever had a smartphone. she’s a fan of emoticons. her favorite is :o)

has a lot of bruises and scratches and scars - she’s often getting herself into pickles. there are always, at the very minimum, three bandaids on each hand.

she has insomnia, so she’s awake often. is often seen wandering town - even when she shouldn’t be, even when it might be dangerous. her intuition is delayed. when she does sleep - her dreams are vivid and fantastical.

keeps a box of memories - sentimental bits and pieces she’s picked up over the last few years. there are a lot of buttons and postcards, but any teeny tiny object will do.

her style changes every week - most, if not all, of her clothes are thrifted. one week she’s baby spice and the next she’s lydia deetz. she combines pieces from different styles often - she looks like a barbie clothed by a child. she feels most comfortable like this.

will either patch-up the clothes that get too worn or reuse them in some way. sometimes donates the clothes she gets tired off - isn’t minimalistic, but she’s learned to keep only a small amount of possessions.

the only consistency is her lucky ribbon - it’s pastel yellow and silky and as thin as a shoelace. she ties it onto her outfit of the day, everyday. if she loses it, she’s lost. elektra has a matching ribbon (& so does leo fowler eyes emoji)

has no problem with minor theft - she only takes bare minimum, puts herself and elektra first and that’s how it’s always been. she tries to be good while in preaker / yates - would hate to be forced out by mobs with torches and pitchforks

currently living in calloway while elektra stays in their van, florence - sometimes philly stays there during the weekends.

they used to live in motels on the occasion, the cheapest room, and more often than not they’d both go home with strangers for a comfier bed and a hotter shower.

it was a common occurrence - she didn’t sleep with them - but somehow, she weaseled her way into their homes anyway. has come out mostly unscathed, on most occasions. this has been a practice ever since they’ve been on the road.

really, truly - has not slept with anybody, had her first and only kiss at thirteen with a frog. this doesn’t bother her. edit: her first & only kisses hv been w leo fowler. this is important

will consume anything you put in front of her - isn’t picky.

listens to whatever they’ve picked up along the way but she likes instrumentals the best. her second favorite genre is 1990′s and 2000′s top hits. they’re nostalgic for her. third favorites? florence, of course. fleetwood mac. the bird and the bee.

loves storms - will go out in the rain and will risk her life for it.

owns a pair of roller-skates and is often skating rather than walking. unless she’s on grass - then she’s walking barefoot.

has many hobbies, and gets bored of them often. her favorite hobby is welding. she’s not certified.

also, juggling.

also, accordion.

the kind of girl who’ll do any job you give her. odd jobs are her favorite jobs. babysitting is her least favorite - but she does it anyway. has lost children before. have they ever been found? not by philly.

dyes her hair blonde often and cuts her own hair - bangs included - finds it cathartic, likes the itchiness of bleach.

everything she does is often in pursuit of feeling free, alive, and meaningful.

( like her frequent visits to the woods, late at night when the moon is high and full. it’s freeing to dance around a fire, stark naked in the cold. builds immunity )

comes and goes wherever she pleases, nothing & nobody can stop her. she knows to respect nature. exudes natural trust energy <3 dont know wht tht means but

the trust expands to animals as well, she has a certain knack for getting them to like her. has too many ‘pet’ rats that reside with her, alongside a baby raccoon & a few crow pals. has a new animal companion everyday, but she doesn’t contain them or force them to stay. edit: she hs a tabby cat named pail, now. named in honor of her mother, bucket.

leaves her window in calloway wide open because of this, because her window is conveniently right besides a tree with sturdy branches. good for animal smuggling, sneaking in and out, hiding, etc. etc. world is her oyster.

though her room in calloway is ??? frankly a mess ??? already ??? usually keeps most of her possessions in her memory box but she’s also turned her room into a mini labyrinth of knick-knacks. very cozy, but very nest-like. think of howl’s room from howl’s moving castle.

wanted connections.

how did you get in here ;; someone whose room she perhaps crashed at late at night, mysteriously. she refuses to explain where she’s come from. she’s gone before you wake. they could literally not know her at all she’s just sleeping halfway under their bed like <3 thank you <3

ma’am this is a wendys ;;  someone who sees her constantly <3 doing outlandish shit <3 bc lets b real. shes weird. shes a weirdo. why do u think she wears the same hat everyday. (she doesnt wear hats often) anyways. they probably dnt even like her? just think shes very strange?

im literally going to dissect you ;;  someone who. wants to figure out philly. pick at her brain. wear her shoes. kind of in the same category of above in this general like. ur fkn weird. bt they wna figure out why <3 they wna play therapist <3 jokes on u she hates therapists

liddle thief in the night ;; someone who has caught her stealing. or dining n dashing. either/or. perhaps both. she steals a lot :/

oh like. friends n stuff ;; of any closeness. ppl she talks 2 conspiracies with, ppl she goes on late night walks with, ppl she explores with, ppl she steals with, ppl she smokes with, etc. etc. ppl who bring her out to parties cos they like her funky little ways when she gets drunk n tries to climb atop everything <3 

thts nice. anyways ;; this is fr like. literally anything unrequited. philly doesnt like <3 a lot of ppl <3 In That Way. so its basically just. ur muse thinks shes very neat n she thinks ur muse is very neat bt platonically. she doesnt do hookups or anything n if she does i tend 2 like. run purely based off of chemistry even with. most of her connections in general.

uuhh. anything ;; HLKDGKSDLKGHLKSFDSHGKFD i nvr rly hv a lot of connections up fr philly bc shes like. a very unpredictable muse n i think its usually better to just. throw her in! n see wht happens! we cn still plot obv n come up w some fun things bt fr the most part shes very organic

#yatesintro #cancer tw #trauma tw #death tw #dissociation tw #maggots tw #murder mention

[darksidechick823]

Writer Asks! Pick 5 even numbers! :)

14. What’s your favorite fandom to write for?  

Frozen. Hansanna, if I want to get technical about it :P 

22. Do you listen to anything while you write?

Yup! I can’t bear to sit in total silence. Usually I binge-listen to an album or playlist on my iPod until my ears rebel out of desperation. Most of the time, it’s Broadway. My current music obsession is the original cast recording of Les Misérables, but the one before that was the Anastasia cast album. 

26. Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?

Smut. I’d like to at some point, but I don’t really know if it’ll ever truly happen. 

30. Tooth-rotting fluff or merciless angst?

34. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.

Arendelle is apparently still reeling from the disaster of Elsa's coronation. Magic certainly started all the problems, but unfortunately it couldn't fix them." She scratched at her cheek and turned to gaze off to the grounds below. "I guess no one has to worry about me setting off eternal winters or ruining the ecosystem. I'm just me. The ordinary, lackluster sister who doesn't have her own brand of magic to appeal to the masses."

"That's not true." Hans hopped off the ledge and gently took her hands to guide her off and towards him as well. "You have the greatest magic of all."

She didn't believe him. "Oh yeah? What's that? Because clumsiness and naiveté are not real magical traits."

"You have this extraordinary power to see the good in others; to believe they have the ability to be their best selves. You have been this way your entire life, even in moments of true darkness." He stressed and drew her close to him. "Think of your sister. She shut you out for so many years, and yet you never stopped loving her, never stopped believing that one day you'd be a proper family again. And when everything suddenly went to hell, what did you do? You didn't hesitate to go after her. To bring her back. You didn't do that out of obligation, or out of guilt. You did it because you loved her. When she was out on that fjord on the verge of being killed, you threw everything away for her. It wasn't about stopping me. You were willing to die just to save her."

"H-Hans, I—" She was immediately shushed by his index finger gently pressing over her lips.

"And I haven't even broken the other subject yet." When she glanced up at him with a puzzled look, he raised his brows sympathetically, "You grew up believing in fairytales and whirlwind romances. When we met, you believed with all of your heart that I was the man of your dreams, and that I was capable of making any and all of your deepest desires come true. You sought refuge in me and saw something in me that I clearly didn't see in myself. You wanted me. We barely knew each other, and yet you trusted me with your home. Your people. Your kingdom. No one has ever put that much faith in me before. Look at us now! I committed a terrible wrong against you, against your sister; something I truly and deeply regret and will most likely take to my grave, yet you continuously treated me with kindness and respect. You sought me out first when you needed comfort. You chose to spend most of your days with me instead of anyone else in my family. You actually want me to heal, to be better. You want me to be happy." When she averted her gaze away, he tilted her chin up gently. "Don't you see? It's love, Darling. Love is your special brand of magic."

"Love isn't magic—"

"It is…" Hans said. "True love, Anna. You have it. You share it with everyone, whether you realize it or not. Love for your parents. Your sister. Your friends. For…for a long-lost fiancé who clearly doesn't deserve it but willingly takes it. Clings to it. It's all he has left. Right now, it's all you have left, too. But that's what makes you strong. The love you bear, it is immense. It can hold up the whole world. That's what will make you a great queen. A beloved queen. That's what will keep you going from day to day. That is the light that will shine your path forward. And love shines brightly for you. It always has, and it always will."   -- “A Most Difficult Time of Year, Chapter 4: Until We Meet Again”

#author stuff #ask box #ask memes #ask games #thanks for the ask!!

[multific]

Not a Player Anymore

Chris Evans x Reader

Summary: You knew he was a player, yet you fell for him, that was the first mistake. The second was that you actually made yourself believe that if you stay by his side, he’d notice and learn to love you.

Warning: Swearing, Angst

 Chris was a player.

He loved the attention that women gave him. He had a different woman in his bed every night, sometimes even two.

And you, being his best friend had to be there for him. Even if it broke your heart.

You always wanted more than just friendship with him, when he wasn’t flirting with someone, he was the sweetest and most genuine person you have ever met. He always made you laugh and was kind to you.

You remember that in the beginning, before you knew about his lifestyle, you really tried to win him over and to become his girlfriend. You saw potential in him, he was an amazing uncle, he was good with animals and had the sweetest laugh. But that image of him crumbled when you went to the club with him Mackie and Sebastian. Sebastian told you everything about Chris and after a few shots, maybe a bit too much.

The once sweet, caring, handsome man became a player, unreliable mess. Although you never told him that.

And you don’t really know why you stayed after the fact. Maybe it was his blue eyes and his smile that convinced you to stay and be his friend.

And that you became one of his best as a matter of fact. He often came to you when he had problems or in need of advice. He often came to you when he was bored or needed to spend some time with someone.

He became that shameless friend who would make you come to his place, just so he can pretend that you are his wife so his one night stand would leave quicker.

It always broke your heart, both to see him with someone else and to know that it was normal to him. You remember one time he called you over because the girl he picked up the night before didn’t want to leave since she thought that it was more than a one night. When you got over there she yelled at him and in the end, she slapped you in the face. Of course, Chris apologized and tried to do everything to make it up to you.

And you don’t really know why you stayed after that.

Maybe it was the love that you began to feel for him. A hopeless one-sided love. You always wondered what will be the last straw. The last thing that he can do that will make you completely forget about him or that will make you confess everything for him.

You didn’t have to wait long though.

After three long years of friendship, three long years of you hoping for something that will never happen, he did it.

He managed to fuck up so badly, that it made you both yell your feelings at his face while leaving him behind forever.

You called him after a long day at work, you were desperate for some movie with him and a little alcohol and chocolate maybe, a nice relaxing day after a horrible and stressful week of work.

Of course he agreed and you headed to his place after work.

Since you knew were given a key to his place, you quickly walked in and you immediately heart the undeniable sounds of sex. Moaning, groaning and skin slapping against skin.

It wasn’t the first time you came over while he was with someone, but this time, you were pissed.

You talked to him about how tired you were. He promised a day where it was only you two and that bottle of wine you just brought. You heard the woman moan out his name and you thought you recognized it, but you were so full of anger, without even taking your shoes or jacket off, you stormed into the house and to his bedroom. They obviously heard you since you stormed down like a horde of buffalos would.

As you swung the door open you got another slap in the face but this was like a cold shower of reality. The man, the man you were in love with was not only in bed with any woman, but your best friend. The friend you told him about. The friend who knew about your feelings towards him. The friend who knew you for so long it felt like she was your sister. The same friend who comforted you when you cried over him was now on his bed naked. And there you stood, stunned watching them as they tried to dress up. You found your voice a second later.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt, please, continue.” you said and slapped the door behind yourself. You silently begged that he wouldn’t come after you. You knew that if he would start talking, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself and you’d end up telling him everything.

You were nearly out of the house when Chris came after you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Y/N?” you immediately stopped at his voice. All you saw was red. You were crying from both anger and the betrayal that you just felt.

“What? I told you I’d be over around six! And you not only fuck someone when you promised that we would have a relaxing night, but you are fucking my best friend! I came here to spend some nice time with you. You knew I was coming and yet you choose to do this instead, just how addicted are you?” in the middle of your yelling, Chris just stood there stunned, he never heard you raise your voice. Your friend arrived at the front door as well, trying to leave but you had none of it. “And you. Bitch of the year. You knew how I was feeling towards him! You knew I loved him and yet you just can’t keep your legs closed, what kind of friend are you?!”  you turned to leave but Chris grabbed your wrist.

“Hey! Don’t leave, what feelings are you talking about? Y/N!” you jerked your hand back, making him let go.

“Don’t ever call me or look for me, I don’t want to see either of you ever again!”

And you stormed out, not looking back.

Of course after the incident, both of them tried to contact you, but you never picked up the phone or opened the door for them. You didn’t want to see their faces. You thought about moving away and starting a new life.

After about a week they both stopped trying to reach you, Chris even went to your workplace trying to talk but you were lucky and that day was your day off and your boss didn’t give him any information thinking that he might be a stalker of yours, you will forever be thankful for that to her.

***

Weeks, months and even a year passed.

And now, you were over it.

Only your memories of Chris was left and that empty void in your heart that he left. You thought about way you can make yourself feel full again. Maybe a new job, a new pet, a new relationship or a new car, new clothes? Nothing was inviting enough.

Then you heard a knock on your door.

Must be the takeaway. You thought as you stood from the couch to grab your dinner.

But it wasn’t the delivery guy, it was Chris.

You let out a long disappointed sigh. You didn’t want to talk to him. It already has been a whole year you thought he forgot about you just like you did.

“If you brought me my Chinese, I’ll take it, but if not, please leave.” you waited for a second and just as he opened his mouth a guy came up from behind him.

“Delivery for Miss Y/L/N.”

“Thank you!” you gave a nice tip for the guy and grabbed your food, you wanted to close your door but Chris’ foot was in the way. From behind the door, Chris heard your voice call out.

“Take your foot away or I’ll break it. You are trespassing. Don’t make me call the cops.”

“Please, I just want to talk!” he begged. You opened the door just enough to look at him.

“And what makes you think that I want to?”

“You left so abruptly on that day! I had so many things to say.”

“Too bad you’re thinking with your dick instead with your head, right? I really thought you noticed my feelings and this was your way of making me fuck off. If that was the plan, it worked. Now, leave, go, get out, never come back, forget me, my address, my phone number, everything and LEAVE!” you really hoped that he’d understand and leave once and for all.

“I-I, please just let me in, give me ten minutes to explain myself.” you let out an irritated groan. But you knew, he’d be back if you hadn’t let me speak, so you let him in. You were sitting at the table across from him eating your dinner like it was the normal thing to do while drinking your ice tea. You looked at your watch and then at him.

“You have two minutes, go.” you grabbed your fork again and waited for his excuse and explanation so you can finally close that chapter of your life.

“Ok. I did not know about how you felt for me. When Anna left that day she told me. I felt horrible. You knew how dense I used to be. But I changed. And I have been trying to talk to you for a year now. Now that I think back, I can see that you tried to make your feelings obvious to me, but it didn’t work. I remember when we went to the club one time and Seb complimented you, you wore that nice dark green dress, you looked stunning. And to be honest, I had and still have feelings for you. I was just an idiot and pushed them aside. But now, I want you, even as a friend is fine. Just-“

“Thirty seconds left.”

“I know that it is my fault that your heart was broken, and I get why you are cold with me. But I’m asking, no, begging you to take me back as your friend and let me prove my love for you.”

“Time’s up.”

You set there in silence, he assumed that you were thinking about his suggestion, and when you finally spoke up, his heart got broken into millions of pieces.

“You’d honestly think that after what you have done, I’ll waltz back to you. You embarrassed me, I felt both betrayed and stupid. I had such deep and true feelings towards you. I saw myself with you, I told myself that I will help you stop being a player, a playboy and become a real man. But instead, you turned into a pig. And I don’t care about the strangers that I had to get out of your house for you. I’m not talking about the woman who hit me because you lied to her. I’m talking about that bitch, Anna. She knew about my feelings, yet she choose to do that. You, I wasn’t really surprised, but she… she disappointed me. And the fact that you’d think that after it all, after everything I’d come back to you and fall in love with you again? Fuck no. And now, as you promised. Leave and never come back.” you were done. Done with it all. He was crying in front of you but you didn’t even feel sympathy for him.

“I will die without you, Y/N. You are everything to me.”

“Sounds like a you problem. Maybe next time, be honest with your feelings and don’t fuck everything that has legs and boobs and you’ll notice the real thing in front of you.”

“Please, one chance is all I need.”

“Don’t make me say things that I will regret just to make you leave me the fuck alone.”

“You can’t.”

“Don’t give me a challenge.”

“You can’t say anything that Mackie or Sebastian hasn’t said already when I told them why you left.”

“Chris, please just go. Find yourself someone for the night and forget me.”

“I stopped having one night stands.”

“Wow. What happened? Someone left you a nice disease? Or you finally managed to knock someone up?”

“No, and no. I realized that I’m in love.”

“Disgusting.”

“What?”

“The fact that you’d think I’d touch you even with a stick after I saw you with her.”

Chris didn’t know what to say to that. He was stubborn, yes, but it was obvious that you just said those things to make him leave, and he won’t give up so easily.

“I love you.” was his reply.

“Don’t.”

***

For the next week, Chris has been coming over to your place but you never let him in. He stood in front of your door for hours and then he left. Every. Single. Day. Didn’t he have a life?

But you were also surprised how determined he was, he stood there no matter what. However, when a storm happened, you couldn’t keep your cold, defensive façade up any longer.

As the rain poured and the wind blew you opened your door and yelled at him.

“For Christ’s sake, get in!” he didn’t need to be told twice. Like a lost puppy, he got into your house. “Wait here, I’ll get you a towel.”

You went to get him the towel while he took his soaked jacket and shoes off.

You threw the towel at him.

“Go take a shower. You will catch a cold.”

Without saying a word, Chris left to take a hot shower while you prepared a cup a warm tea for him.

He sat down right in front of you at the table, just like a few weeks ago when he came over. He slowly drank his tea.

“Thank you for letting me in.”

“You should have left, it’s not fun to stand in the rain.” you’d know. On the day you found him in bed with Anna, you did the same thing. And you got yourself a nice cold that lasted for a long time.

“I need to prove to you that I’m serious, that I’m not a player anymore. I’ll keep repeating it until you believe me.”

“I do.”

“Y-You do?” he looked so surprised.

“I believe you stopped. But I can’t see anything other when I look at you but the time I saw you with her.”

“I know that it’s something you find disgusting that I was with her. But I changed. I was such an idiot back then. You were right, I didn’t see the good when it was right in front of me. I’m not here to give a big speech about why I did it, I’m only here to ask for your forgiveness and to get you back into my life.”

“I can’t. I don’t want to get hurt, not again.” all that confidence that you built up during the year left, all you had was nervousness and fear in your heart. Fear that he might repeat, fear that he might go back, fear of another heartbreak. Just like the old saying fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me. And you weren’t ready to be led by your nose and then thrown away.

“I can promise you that you won’t! I will do anything in my power and more. I want this to work, us. Give us a chance. Please, this is the first time in my entire life I have felt like this. It actually hurts. Love is both the worst and the best thing that ever happened to me. Thanks to love I can feel this amazing thing towards you, I can be happy, but I also lost you.”

“Chris, I don’t know.” you felt so conflicted. You wanted to give him a chance but at the same time, you didn’t.

“I’ll give you time. How about that? I won’t come here. You still have my phone number?” you shook your head. “Okay, then I’ll write it down and leave it for you. If you are willing to try even as friends, call me. Anytime, any day and I’ll immediately come for you. If you are not… then just threw the number out and forget me. I won’t come here ever again and even if I know that it will be hard, I’ll try and forget you.”

Surprisingly, he kept his word. He didn’t show up. Which was a hard thing for Chris to do since he was so used to going over to your place and wait for you like a lost dog. Chris found himself staring at his phone even at work, he didn1t even notice this habit only when a cast member called him out for it.

“Waiting for the lady to call?” the person hit the nail right on the head and he didn’t even knew it.

You on the other hand, contemplating your options, you even wrote a whole page full of cons and pros of the situation and what the future might hold.

It was true, even if your heart got broken and defeated, there was still love in it. Love for Chris. And that tiny part was aching and begging for you to call him already.

And you ended up not calling him.

You texted him.

Come over tonight at 6pm.

Chris’ heart fluttered and filled with hope. While yours just got more anxious and nervous.

He was there 6pm sharp. With a single white rose in hand.

“Here, this is yours.” he said and handed you the flower.”

“Thank you.”

He watched as you placed the delicate thing into a vase while he sat at the couch. His eyes shined as you smelled the flower and smiled at the sweet scent.

“Look, I won’t make you suffer any longer and just say it as it is.” you said and he was too afraid to breathe let alone speak. “I will give you a chance, but and this is a huge but, be yourself please. Be the funny, caring, kind Chris who a known and learnt to love. Be the one who makes me laugh until I can’t breathe. Don’t be the desperate Chris who wants me back. Please. It hurts me to see you like this.”

“I promise, yes. Thank you, oh Y/N thank you for trusting me again! I will take you on a date! A proper one!” he was so caught up with his thoughts he didn’t even realized when he hugged you and kissed your head. He was going on and on about the dates that he was planning and one thing he established right at the beginning.

“I will treat you well! Like a real princess, I promise!” he made a lot of promises on that day. You ended up smiling and laughing at his expressions so much that your face began to hurt.

You were happy to have his old side back, the one you knew and loved. And you were more than happy to finally be over with your grudge and happy in life, with him.

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[falling-feuilles]

Chapter 3

CW/TW: N/A

Early the next morning, Y/N woke; alone in the sitting room. The teaset sat undisturbed, save for the small, folded note addressed to her. Its familiar, slanting script informed her of the message’s author: Pierre. He was nowhere to be seen; all that remained of his presence was the empty teacup, placed neatly back on its saucer. 

She reached for the paper, noting the looseness of her bandages as she did so. The note was simple, and the ink wasn’t completely dried; it was written recently, and in somewhat of a hurry. On the paper, Pierre expressed his gratitude for her hospitality and companionship. She smiled, reading through the note a second time, noticing he had scratched out a word. Despite his best efforts to remove the letters, Y/N could still see their outline when held up to her window. They read “Your love friendship is, as always, a great comfort…” the note continued on after that, but her eyes kept going back to the word. Love. She loved Pierre deeply, he was her closest friend, so why did she keep focusing on that word? Why did Pierre cross it out? She shook her head, blinking back into reality. Those were thoughts for another, less busy, day.

Y/N, after carefully refolding the paper and, after slipping it into her pocket, examined her wrist. The fabric was fraying slightly, with a few ink stains on the piece between her thumb and forefinger. She gently unwound the binding, carefully maneuvering the remaining cotton between her fingers. The mark was dark indigo in the center, ringed with green. She rewrapped the sprain with a clean roll of cotton, not as neatly or as tightly as Alexandra would have, but enough for the bandage to function as it should.

Her carriage was to leave at eight in the morning, arriving at the Bolkonsky residence well before noon. The dull ticking of the grandfather clock to her left reminded her of this prior commitment. Its hands read as just before seven, giving her plenty of time to prepare for the day.

The morning passed in a blur, despite the dullness of the carriage ride. She spent the majority of it worrying for Pierre and the influence Prince Vassily might have on his future. This type of thinking, she decided, wasn’t of much use; and, although she tried to think about what these next few months had in store for her, Pierre was never far from her mind.

It had been a number of years since she’d last visited the Bolkonskys, the last time being for the purposes of seeing Marya, Andrei’s sister. Marya was one of the kindest, most gentle people she had met, and it pained Y/N to see her so meek and trodden on by her father. As the carriage pulled up to the steps, Y/N saw Tikhon, the butler, outside the house awaiting her arrival. He opened the carriage door, offering her a gloved hand.

“My lady,” he began as she placed a foot on the ground, “Your sister and the Princess are in the sitting room awaiting your arrival.”

“Tikhon, you’re looking well.”

“Thank you, my lady. You are as radiant as ever.” She smiled, moving inside the large manor. The familiar lilt of conversation aerated throughout the entrance hall, originating from the open doors to her left. As soon as she entered, she was greeted with a hug from her sister.

“N/N! Finally, you’re here!” Lise was clearly adjusting well to life with Marya and Mademoiselle Bourrienne.

“Yes, yes, I hope you haven’t missed me too terribly in our single day apart.” Y/N chuckled, kissing her sister’s forehead.

“Y/N…” Marya stood from the couch, moving to embrace Y/N.

“It’s been far too long, Marya. I hope you’ve been keeping well?”

“As well as I can,” she sounded sad, and Y/N couldn’t blame her. Marya quickly smiled, attempting to change the slightly somber mood back to the joyful one it had been mere moments before, “But, much better now that you and Lise are here.”

Y/N squeezed her shoulder gently before turning to sit next to her sister, who hadn’t seemed to notice Marya’s momentary distress. They talked for a while, catching up on all the recent developments in Lise and Marya’s lives. Y/N, however, found it hard to focus on anything the two said. Her hand, subconsciously, slipped into her pocket, occasionally running Pierre’s note through her fingers.

“Y/N, are you alright? You seem… distracted.” Marya noted, halting her conversation with Lise.

“Yes, I’m fine…” Marya and Lise clearly didn’t believe her, both knowing the woman too well.

“What is it?” Lise placed her hand on Y/N’s. The pain, while not nearly as intense as the day before, was still present and showed on her face. Lise looked confused for a moment, before noticing the unusual bulkiness of her sister’s wrist. The bandage peeked out from under her sleeve slightly, catching the eye of the two other women. Marya moved to sit on Y/N’s other side, carefully rolling up her friend’s sleeve. Y/N pulled away, but a sharp look from Lise stopped her.

“Are you hurt? What happened?” Lise was clearly concerned. Despite Lise’s usually gentle nature, she was easily upset when it came to anything hurting Y/N. She was equally as protective of Y/N as Y/N was of her.

“No, no, it’s nothing,” she dismissed the thought, biting her lip before continuing, “It’s… it’s Pierre…”

“What about Pierre?” Marya had met Pierre before; he had always treated her kindly.

“Did Pierre do this?” Lise gestured to the bandage, growing more furious by the second. As protective as Y/N was of Lise, Lise was equally as protective.

“What? No, no. His… father, the Count, passed away last night…”

“I’d heard he was getting worse, I just… never thought it would actually happen, poor Pierre,” Lise sighed, while she wasn’t nearly as close to Pierre as her sister or husband, she still considered him a friend.

Marya was very far removed from most of society and hadn’t heard that Pierre’s father was ill; still, she felt bad she didn’t know. She had lost her mother when she was young, so she could imagine how he was feeling.

“What about his will? I imagine the old Count left him something, he cared for Pierre greatly.”

“You could say that,” the confused looks on Lise and Marya’s faces urged her to continue, “The Count named Pierre as his successor.”

The two’s eyes went wide, mouths parting in shock. Lise struggled to speak for a moment, taking in the vastness of this information.

“You mean to tell me that... Pierre is Count Bezukhov?”

“Yes, but it’s not that that worries me. Prince Vassily tried to destroy the will, luckily Anna Drubetskaya and I put an end to that. But Pierre is spending the day with the Prince, and I shudder to think what he may convince Pierre to do.”

Lise, who’d had encounters with the Prince in the past, knew what she meant. Not only was he very manipulative, he also had a number of friends in high positions in the government.

“I understand your concern, N/N, but I think he’ll be fine. Pierre isn’t stupid, he’ll see through Vassily’s deceptions.” Y/N didn’t agree with her sister's assessment; yes, Pierre was smart, but he was too trusting, too naive to the way high society worked. He desperately wanted to believe that the world, and all the people in it, were good.

“I suppose you’re right…”

“Besides,” Lise continued, “What’s the worst he could do?”

~

The next few days were uneventful. However, she quickly remembered why her last visit had been so long ago. Prince Bolkonsky. He was so insurmountably irritating. Shortly after she arrived, he had called her into his office, much like a headmaster would call in a misbehaving student. He made a number of degrading remarks about Y/N and Marya, but nothing more than talk which, although infuriating, Y/N could easily dismiss.

While he would never take out his frustrations on her, she could tell that he would very much like to do so. During the first week of her stay, Y/N joined Marya and Bolkonsky for Marya’s geometry lessons. Y/N found that Marya did significantly better when positively encouraged, and told Bolkonsky her thoughts on the matter; he did not take it well. She wasn’t allowed to help with geometry anymore.

Luckily, Marya and Y/N’s bedrooms were directly across from each other, which allowed Y/N to teach Marya in secret during the evenings.

Lise remained healthy, much to the relief of the household. Despite her initial reservations about staying in the country, Y/N could tell it suited her better; for the time being at least.

Y/N also had her reservations, and, although they weren’t as far from her mind as Lise’s were, they had been somewhat soothed. Luckily, she had had the foresight to bring Emil along. The Bolkonsky estate was large, and had much room for riding. No one ever joined her, and she preferred it that way. Life was simple and happy. Until it wasn’t.

Pierre wrote her often, first telling her of his vague plans for the considerable fortune he’d acquired, then telling her of Prince Vassily’s plans for the money. She knew the Prince wouldn’t throw money away for no reason, so that served as some comfort. Then, he began telling her of his outings with Helene; ice skating, cards, anything and everything he could do with her, he would. Y/N didn’t tell him of her feelings about Helene, she knew he was blinded by her beauty and interest in him, or, as was most likely the case, his money. Helene wasn’t one for the “misunderstood intellectual” type of man. She spent many hours dwelling on thoughts like these. Although she knew that thoughts like these were a waste of time and energy, it was hard not to think of them. But, she kept them to herself, bottling them up like she did with so many other things.

~

Y/N wrote him often, keeping him updated on the health of her sister and the activities of the household. He had been very busy these past few weeks. Between the exploration of his new wealth and social status, he’d had very little time to do much else. However, he always made time to write to her.

Pierre sat in his office; an elaborate room filled with the many extravagances of Russian wealth. A large, mahogany desk sat in the center of the room, holding the haphazard papers and writings of the young man. Directly in front of Pierre, a thick, sealed letter sat, unopened, in his hands. He’d finally made it through the considerable stack of letters on his desk, most of them being invitations for gatherings of some such, the kind of gatherings a newly rich, eligible bachelor would attend. Although he enjoyed the opportunities his new status had given him, gatherings such as those took up much of his energy. Today, for example; It had been long, but enjoyable. He had spent the late afternoon and early evening playing écarté with Helene.

Helene. She was beautiful. Pale skin, dark hair, perfectly feminine features. But, best of all, she seemed to care for him. He became lost in these thoughts, until the soft, gold seal caught his eye. The stamp was shaped as a very ornate, calligraphic Z, denoting its sender as Y/N. He broke the seal, splitting the Z into two, uneven pieces.

Dearest Pierre,

I hope you are keeping well! Lise is in good health. She would never admit it, but the country air suits her. I’ve discovered that our dear Marya is quite the artist! I’ve included a few of her drawings, they are wonderful! The old Prince Bolkonsky still despises me. He says I am no longer allowed to assist in Marya’s lessons. He says it is because it distracts her, but it’s truly because I criticized his teaching style. Now, Marya and I  have secret geometry lessons in the evenings and the Prince is none the wiser. I’ve written to Andrei a small number of times, he hasn’t responded but that’s to be expected. I am certain, however, he is receiving the letters as none of them have been returned to my hands. Mary and I fear for his safety, as I’m sure you do as well, but we must appear unaffected for the sake of Lise’s sanity. Have you written Andrei at all? I feel as though he would be more inclined to write you than me, considering the last time we spoke I berated him. Alas, I can’t take back what I’ve said and, frankly, I don’t want to. I hope the lovely Helene is keeping you social while I’m away, I hear she’s made quite the companion for you. Keep well, Pierre.

Your Friend,

Y/N Zhudova

He smiled softly, running his fingers through the envelope to find the sketches. They were, as far as Pierre could tell, done with pencil and charcoal, and done very well. Two were of animals, Emil and an old, mangy barn cat. The other two were of people; one being of Lise and Y/N sitting on a sofa in the household, laughing and smiling. The brightness in the pair’s eyes was displayed perfectly, making the picture seem truly alive. The second image was less bright, but just as realistic. Y/N sat with her back to a tree, dress splaying out over the grass; hair loose, it cascaded over her shoulders like running water. She clearly had not been aware of the drawing as it was being made; there was no effort in her pose. It was too natural. Too her. The bandage on her arm had been abandoned, revealing the still-healing bruises on her wrist. Her hands, delicate, held the book in her hands loosely. Lips slightly parted, he could almost see them moving as she read the words on the pages below. She looked so at home, more peaceful than he had seen her in quite a while. Although Pierre had seen her in relaxed states before, it wasn't a common sight for him. He scanned over the image again, taking note of the intricate details captured in the image. The individual pages resting between her fingers, her mother's necklace she always wore, even the shading of her eyes. It was just so… her.

Pierre hadn't realized how much he missed her until he saw her face. Even though there was no color in the image, he could almost see it. E/C eyes studying the words below her, H/C hair tucked away save for the single stand over her right eye, it was all too real.

Pierre did have some form of company in Helene and the other members of the aristocracy, but there was no company like Y/N’s. His eyes lingered on the sketch a few moments longer before he placed the letter, and its contents, into a drawer, on top of a neat stack of other letters he had received from her. The door shut with a small click, drawing him out of his thoughts.

~

It was dark. Ornate halls lit solely by the moon, silvery beams glowing softly on the floors. Y/N moved through the hallway, bare feet gliding through puddles of moonlight. Soft light moved across her bare skin as she walked, robe cascading behind her. She slowly disrobed, leaving silken garments on the floor. Pierre followed behind her, unable to look away. His eyes caught hers, causing her to giggle and gently push open his bedroom door.

"Touch me…" she whispered, moving to the center of the room, where three beams of moonlight converged. Finally, the robe fell from her shoulders, exposing her bare flesh to his eyes. He moved forward, hand reaching out to touch her, shaking as he moved closer. The whispers became louder, reaching their climax as he ran a finger down her spine, feeling her shiver beneath the touch.

"Touch me…"

He woke, gasping for breath.

#pierre bezukhov #bbc war and peace #war and peace