#I wonder if she lost her picture book after she was taken back...

[waitimcomingtoo]

SLUT!

chapter eight: dying to see how this one ends

series masterlist

Following the fight, Peter saw the back of a squad car for the first time. He was taken straight to the local police station while few officers stayed behind to get stories from witnesses in the gym.

At the station, Peter was put in a holding cell and given an ice pack for his busted knuckles. After half an hour of sitting alone, the door to the cell opened and Brad Davis was pushed inside. He had two tissues stuffed up his nose and a black eye forming on his right eye. The boys made eye contact but felt too defeated to fear the other.

“What are you doing here?” Peter asked when Brad plopped beside him on the bench.

“What do you think? The police showed up and one of the soccer girls showed them the video of me saying I slipped something in Y/n’s drink. I can’t believe it. Did you know that’s a felony?”

“Uh, yeah.” Peter said flatly. “You’re really not supposed to do that.”

“How was I supposed to know? I’ve never done it before.” Brad mumbled. “And I wouldn’t again.”

“Would you really never do it again?” Peter asked skeptically. Brad was quiet for a minute and stared off at the wall. Peter silently handed over his ice pack and Brad accepted it with a sarcastic smile. He put it on his black eye and sighed.

“I don’t know. I don’t know why I’m so angry all the time. Or why I let it ruin my friendship with Y/n. Have you ever wanted a girl so badly that you start to hate her?”

“No.” Peter said without hesitation.

“Oh.” Brad said and turned away from Peter.

Another 30 minutes went by and Peter was starting to spiral. He paced back and forth in the cell while chewing his nails.

“What’s taking them so long?” He whined.

“They’ll get you when they’re done booking you. Don’t freak out. It’s annoying.” Brad mumbled.

“Of course I’m freaking out. If I get convicted, I’m going to jail.”

“Relax. You’ll be fine. Assault is a misdemeanor. And I’m sure your scrawny ass is a first offender so you’ll get a fine at best.” Brad rolled his eyes.

“Woah. How’d you know that?” Peter stopped pacing and looking at Brad in surprise.

“I’ve been arrested for misdemeanors before. My dad just bails me out.”

“Which I’m sure he’ll do this time.” Peter rolled his eyes and sat back down.

“No. I called him when they brought me in but my mom answered.” Brad said as he looked at the ground.

“What did she say?” Peter wondered when he saw how distant Brad sounded. Brad turned his face away from Peter and rubbed the back of his neck.

“She said her best friend in college killed herself after a boy told everyone she gave him an STD. She said she couldn’t handle the bullying.” Brad said quietly. Peter stared at him for a minute and debated making him feel worse. There was a lesson to be learned here and Peter needed to know Brad understood the gravity of his actions.

“You could’ve done the same to Y/n, you know.” Peter said in a soft voice. He wasn’t being accusatory, just honest.

“She never would’ve done that.” Brad scoffed but Peter could tell he didn’t believe himself.

“How do you know?” Peter asked. “You didn’t know her. And you didn’t let anyone know her either. You told everyone who she was and they believed you. You erased her. She very well could have hurt herself to take her name back.”

“I didn’t think it was that bad for her. It was just a joke.” Brad said after a long beat of silence.

“To you. To you, “slut” was just a word. To her, it was her entire identity. All because of you.” Peter told him, feeling angry again. He wasn’t worried about protecting Brads feelings anymore. Now, he wanted him to take some accountability. Brad was quiet for a minute as he thought about the way he treated you the past few years.

“The first time I called her a slut, I didn’t realize how easy it would be to do it a second time.” Brad admitted.

“Me either.” Peter realized and pictured your face the time he called you a slut. He blinked back tears as he replayed the night he lost you. Brad noticed Peter was tearing up and felt himself get emotional. He cleared his throat and tried to choke it down but he couldn’t stop the tears that threatened his eyes.

“I didn’t think I’d end up like this. I didn’t think I’d be this guy.” Brad said quietly.

“You don’t have to be this guy forever. You can change.” Peter told him.

“How?” Brad shrugged helplessly. “She’s never gonna forgive me.”

“She might not. But you can still apologize. And then be better to the next girl.”

“What if I can’t be better? What if this is all I am?”

“I don’t think is all you are. Y/n told me you used to be a good friend.”

“She said that?” Brad asked in surprise.

“Yeah. So I know you can be better. You just have to try.” Peter told him. While Brad thought about the conversation, Peter heard footsteps approaching the cell. He looked up and saw May walking up with an officer.

“Hey, jailbird.” May said while a tight, very sarcastic smile.

“May?” Peter got up and walked over to her.

“Come on. They said I can take you home. Isn’t that nice? I get to take my nephew home from jail.” She said sarcastically as a the officer unlocked the cell. Peter got out and immediately hugged May.

“May, I’m so sorry. I can explain everything.”

“You don’t have to. She already told me what happened.” May said and pointed through a window into the station lobby. Peter could see you sitting in one of the waiting room chairs and blinked in surprise.

“She’s here?” He asked May in disbelief.

“Yeah. She’s the one that called me. The cops told me she got here right after you did. That’s your girlfriend right?” May asked. Peter felt his heart sink when he realized he had yet to tell May that you had broken up.

“What did she tell you?” Peter asked to change the topic.

“She said you stood up for her when the boys were calling her a slut. But why do I feel like that’s now the whole story?” May asked skeptically. Peter looked her in the eyes and sighed knowing he was about to disappoint her.

“Because it’s not the whole story. I called her a slut too.” Peter admitted.

“My nephew called a woman a slut? Is that how I raised you?” May asked and folded her arms.

“No. It’s not.”

“Then why did you do that? I thought she was your girlfriend?”

“Because I was angry. And I wanted to hurt her the way she hurt me.”

“Hm. I see. And did you feel better after you called her that?” May asked him.

“No.” Peter sighed. “I felt worse.”

“I thought so. Go apologize. Now.” May turned him around and pushed him in your direction. Peter wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans before going out into the waiting room. When you saw him coming towards you, you stood up and nervously folded your arms.

“Hey.” He smiled weakly.

“Hi, Peter.” You nodded curtly.

“What are you doing here?” He asked you.

“I had to talk to the police to give my statement about Brads party.“ You explained and left out the party about wanting to make sure he was okay.

“My aunt said you told her what happened. Thank you for that. I don’t know how I would’ve explained to her what happened.”

“You’re welcome. And I should be thanking you too. You beat the shit out of Brad for me. I would’ve done it myself but I’m a little more of a kicker.�� You halfheartedly joked, making Peter relax a little.

“You don’t have to thank me. I should’ve done it the first time I heard him call you a slut.” Peter replied. You shrugged in agreement as Peter thought back to that night at the party.

“And you should’ve beat me up when I called you one.” He added as he stared at the floor.

“Yeah. Maybe I should’ve.” You laughed softly. An awkward silence settled between you and neither of you knew what to say. Luckily, it didn’t last long as May came out into the waiting room and stood beside Peter.

“Ready to go home?” She asked him.

“I guess I don’t have any other choice since I am definitely not allowed back on campus.” Peter sighed.

“Actually, they were going to expel you but since I saw Brad throw the first punch, they lowered it to just a suspicion.“ You told him. Peter looked at you curiously and you smiled timidly.

“But Brad didn’t-“ Peter began.

“A lot of people saw him start the fight.” You shrugged. “The school understood that you were just acting in self defense. So don’t worry. Your scholarship is okay.”

“You covered for me?” Peter whispered in disbelief.

“Yeah, well. You covered me first.” You shrugged and avoided eye contact. Peter broke into a smile and you finally looked into his eyes to smile as well. The moment was interrupted by Brad shouting from his holding cell.

“Y/n!” He called to you. You gave Peter a confused look before motioning for him to follow you to where Brad was.

“What do you want?” You asked him.

“I wanted to tell you that I’m so sorry. About all of it.” Brad told you. You looked at Peter skeptically before looking back at Brad.

“You’re sorry?” You doubted.

“I am. I never meant for it to go this far. I don’t expect you to ever forgive me but I just need you to know how sorry I am.” Brad apologized. You smiled at the unexpected apology and nodded your head.

“I appreciate the apology, Brad. That’s not something I ever thought I’d hear from you.” You told him. Peter smiled as he watched the interaction and hoped what he had said to Brad is what inspired him to try to be better.

“Now that we’re cool, do you think you could tell them I didn’t actually slip something in your drink?” Brad asked. “I’ll get kicked out of school if they convict me and my parents already said they’re not bailing me out.”

Your smile dropped when you realized the apology was just a way to gain your trust so he could ask for a favor. He didn’t actually care and he definitely hadn’t changed. Peter shut his eyes in disappointment and hung his head in shame. He thought his conversation with Brad would’ve had some effect on him but it clearly didn’t.

“Oh. You want me to tell the police that you didn’t do something that we both know you actually did do?”

“Yes. Please?” Brad pleaded as he rested his cheek against one of the bars.

“Oh. I get it. Kinda like how you told people that I did things we both know I didn’t do?” You asked and tilted your head to the side. Peter folded his lips to hold back his laughter when he realized what you were doing. Unfortunately for Brad, he hadn’t caught on yet.

“Yeah. Like that.” Brad nodded eagerly. You laughed warmly and nudged Peter, prompting him to laugh as well. Brad was a little confused but laughed as well and assumed you were going to take his side. Your laughter came to an abrupt halt as you faced Brad.

“No.” You stated.

“What? But you have to. I could go to jail.” Brad said and shook the bars angrily.

“And I hope you do.” You said simply.

“What? Come on. Don’t do this to me. Peter already got his revenge.”

“That’s right. He did. But I didn’t.” You reminded him. “And personally, I think there are enough pathetic, predatory losers in New York. Serving some time might knock those worrisome traits of yours loose.”

“You need to really think about this. If I go to jail, I could lose everything.” Brad whispered harshly.

“I lost everything.” You shrugged. “My friends, my dignity, my name. Now it’s your turn.”

“Don’t do this. I’ll get kicked out of school. And it’s impossible to get a job when you have a conviction. Especially for something like this. You have to help me. This will ruin my reputation.”

“At least your reputation will be accurate. Mine never was.” You replied as you looked him right in the eyes. Brads face crumbled and he found himself at a loss for words.

“Goodbye, Brad.” You smiled tightly and walked away. Peter followed after you and joined up with May back in the waiting room.

“Would you like me to drive you back to campus?” May offered as you all walked out of the station together.

“Thank you. But I think I’m gonna wander around the city for a bit. Campus is a little…hostile right now. I think I want to avoid all the attention for a little bit.”

“Well you are welcome to join us for dinner if you’d like.” She smiled kindly.

“I don’t think she wants to do that, May.” Peter mumbled. You made eye contact with him and exchanged polite smiles.

“Thank you again, but I think it’s for the best if I don’t. I would like to talk, though.” You said to Peter.

“Yeah. Of course.” Peter nodded. May got into the car to give the two of you some privacy. You and Peter stood facing each other but didn’t make eye contact. Peter didn’t know what to say, so he got straight to the point.

“Look, I can’t tell you how sorry I am that I called you a slut. And that I didn’t believe you at the party. There is no excuse for what I said and did. I was angry so I called you exactly what I knew would hurt you. I guess that I’m not as good of a guy as either of us thought. You deserve a gentleman. And I’m sorry I couldn’t be that for you.”

“It’s not okay that you called me that. But I forgive you.” You told him.

“You do?” Peter smiled in surprise.

“I do. If you hadn’t gotten Brad and his friends to admit what they had done, I never would’ve gotten my name back. I had people I’ve never even seen before apologizing to me. So if you can risk your scholarship to get my reputation back, I can forgive you.”

“I’d do anything for you.” He told you as he stared into your eyes. You could see how guilty he felt when you looked into his eyes but you couldn’t get him using that word out of his head.

“Where do we go from here?” He asked after a beat of silence. You put a smile on your face and patted Peters shoulders.

“From here, you’re gonna go eat dinner with your aunt. I’m gonna go get some food with my friends, since I actually have them now. And we’re gonna see each other on Thursday in class.”

“Oh. Right. Okay. I’ll see you in class then.” Peter smiled tightly and hoped it didn’t let his disappointment show. He started walking to his car when he heard your voice again.

“Hey Peter?” You called and he turned around.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for getting your knuckles bloody for me.” You smiled at him.

“Anytime.” He smiled back. He got into the passenger seat of Mays car and waited until he couldn’t see you in the side view mirror before breaking down. May rubbed his back and said nothing as Peter cried in his hands.

“I love her. And I ruined it. I fucked it all up.” He cried.

“You don’t know that.” May said kindly. “You might still get a chance to make things right.”

“I don’t think so. She just wants to be friends.“

“I’m sorry, honey.”

“It’s okay. She could’ve written me out of her life entirely. At least we get to be friends now.” Peter said as he wiped his face. May frowned and cupped his chin.

“Let’s go home, honey.” May said. “It’ll be better in the morning.

In the morning, Peter woke up to an email confirming his suspension. He was allowed to return to campus a week later and when he did, he had everyone’s eyes on him. He kept his head down and made his way to the chemistry class he had with you. You exchanged friendly smiles with each other but that was it. Your relationship stayed in a sorta friends but sorta strangers area until the end of the semester. With one week until finals, you finally talked again.

“Hey.” You said as you caught up to him after class. Peter looked around the hallway for who you might be talking to and found no one.

“Me?” He asked.

“Yeah, you. I wanted to show you something.” You smiled coyly and handed him the test you had just gotten back in class. Peter saw a big “96” written on the top in red ink, your highest score yet.

“Woah, 96? That’s really awesome. Great job. I knew you could do it.” Peter smiled proudly and handed it back to you.

“Thank you. I never thought I’d actually pass this class. Turns out I just needed a tutor.” You said with a small shrug. Peter smiled fondly at you and nodded his head. He didn’t know why you were suddenly talking to him, but he didn’t mind it.

“You were always smart.” He insisted. “You just needed someone to explain it in a new way. I’m proud of you. That should go up on the tiny fridge in your dorm.”

“If I had a magnet or even knew where to get one, I would.” You joked. Peter laughed before a comfortable silence settled between you. You looked at each other for a moment before you took a deep breath and looked down at the test.

“So, uh, we have our final coming up soon so I was wondering if you were free to study together sometime? Maybe in the library?” You asked him.

“Oh, sure. I can definitely help you.” He nodded enthusiastically.

“Great, thanks. And maybe we can get some food after.” You suggested.

“Yeah. Totally.” He agreed.

“Like a date.” You added. Peters eyes lit up as he processed what you had said.

“You want to go on a date? With me?”

“I’ve been thinking.” You began. “You were the first person at this school who took the time to get to know me. And in that time, I got to know you too. I know you’re not a mean person. I know you aren’t like the guys who used to make fun of me. And I know I’ve said plenty of things in moments of anger that I wished I could take back. So I have a proposition for you.”

“Which is?” Peter wondered.

“If you ever call me that word again, we’re done for good. No second chances. But since I believe you’re sorry and wouldn’t do it again, I would like to give us another shot. What do you think?”

“I would also like that very much please.” Peter said immediately. You laughed at his quick answer and held out your hand. Peter took it and you walked down the hallway together. He walked you to your next class, just like old times, and stopped outside the door. You were about to say goodbye when he pulled you into a hug. You melted into his arms and hugged him back, closing all the distance that had grown between you.

“Thank you for giving me a second chance.” He said for just you to hear.

“I had too. I missed you too much for that to have been our end.”

“I missed you too.” He said as he pulled out of the hug but kept his arms around you. You looked into his eyes for a minute and smiled softly.

“For the record, I loved you too.” You told him. Peter gasped a little before breaking into a cool and collected smile.

“For the record, I was all in from the moment you borrowed my pen. Not that it’s a competition or anything.” He shrugged, making you laugh a little.

“You know, I still have that pen. It’s really good, too. Is that your thing? You give helpless girls pens and hope they’ll fall in love with you?” You teased him.

“That’s exactly what I do. You’re just the first it’s ever worked on.” He humored you.

“Oh yeah? And just how many girls have you given pens too?a rough estimate would be nice. I’d like to know who my competition is.”

“Oh, jeez. That’s hard to say. It’s gotta be hundreds of girls. Maybe even thousands. I’ve given a pen to more girls than you could ever imagine.“

“Wow. Thats a lot of girls to give pens too. I didn’t realize you were such a busy boy. Are you some kind of slut or something?” You asked with a slight gasp to poke fun at the reputation that used to weigh you down.

“I think I might be actually, yeah.” He sighed and shrugged his shoulder.

“I see.” You chuckled. “That must be why we get along so well.

“Wait, why?” Peter wondered and no longer followed the joke.

“Because.” You playfully rolled your eyes. “Takes one to know one.”

THE END

Tag List 💋

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#peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x y/n #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n

[nicolesainz]

You are in love (CS 55)

Carlos Sainz x f!reader Summary: Carlos being the sweetest human alive, confessing how much he loves you, whilst having a chat with Lando and revealing past secrets Warnings: only damn fluff (inspired by ‘in between’ by gracie abrams and obviously ‘love story’)

"Man, I think you two have been stuck" Lando points to Carlos's arms with an eye roll following.

"What are you talking about?" Carlos was confused as he didn't understand Lando's supposedly joke.

"From all the honey dripping between ya" He lets out an annoyed tongue click and sips some of his coffee.

Carlos looked at me, wanting to hold back laugh and ready to respond to his friend with a snarky comment.

"I regret introducing the two of you. Well, it's all my mothers fault, so she's to blame" the Mclaren driver complains, scrolling through his phone, taking pictures of us.

"Remind me to thank her actually. I owe her for sending me to you. If it hadn't been for me moving to London, this may not had happen" I cup Carlos's cheeks, giving him a soft kiss.

"Well, it's Lando's mum and fate too! Maybe, well, not actually. I am sure our paths were aligned, that is why we found each other" Carlos holds me tighter and closer to his body, now on top of his lap.

"Since when did you become all cheesy and shit man?" Lando spits out, earning a giggle from me.

"You forget I grew up with three women in the house. Romantic stories, songs, books and movies were a Saturday traditions" Carlos explains as I envision a younger version of himself, sitting on the couch with his sisters and mother, watching movies which had happy endings between the main characters and my heart instantly fills up with sweetness.

"I think it's also because you are a lot in Italy. England hadn't gotten you this soft and sweet" Lando is true. Whenever Carlos isn't working but is still in Italy, we visit Tuscany and Verona. Carlos secretly wrote a letter to Juliet and stuck it in between the other letters, written by romantically helpless women. He still thinks I didn't see him, but I couldn't have a better vision of it.

Never in my life, had a man with such pure heart and feelings following it. Carlos is one of earths wonders and maybe fate did bring us together.

"Will it make you happy if I told you that he took me on a date to Bernabéu, so we could watch the semi finals between Real Madrid and Chelsea?" I say to the English man, with a smirk on my face.

"Did you? Cheeky man! Of course Real would be his first love. Sorry, Y/N, don't take this the wrong way" Lando burst out a loud laugh, holding his stomach.

"Please don't remind me of this day. I should have taken you somewhere else. I regret it" Carlos lowers his head and I still cant stop smiling. I raise his head, giving him a small pout and another kiss on the lips.

"You regret it because Real lost. Not because of anything else. Plus, I was an unlucky charm. My englishness erupted that day"

"And it's not true. I love you more than Real" he caresses my back and leans his head on my shoulder. I know he does. He has proven this more times than I can possibly count.

I can't think of a person I love more than Carlos. He brought me back to daylight after a really difficult period of my life and a heartbreaking departure of my ex boyfriend.

He had given me anything I could possibly ask for. He is an angel on earth.

"This is true. When I first introduced you too, not two months had gone by when he started asking me 'Is Y/N ever gonna visit again?', 'Will she attend another Grand Prix'. I was going insane. That's why I kept sending you tickets, hoping you accepted them. He wouldn't shut up"

Carlos may seem like tough and smooth on the outside, but on the inside he is the biggest sweetheart one can ever meet. So genuinely nice and humble. My heart stopped when I heard this part of the story I didn't know.

"You're not innocent either. You kept looking at his insta, asking me if he had a girlfriend or seeing anyone. Oh the nights I spent trying to convince you otherwise and praising him at your eyes"

My cheeks redden when Lando reveals this secret in front of Carlos. I don't really mind now that we are together. If we kept on hiding our feelings from each other, I would have felt embarrassed.

"Oh cariño! I only had eyes for you, since the moment we met. You took my break away and had to get to you somehow. All I knew was that I was determined to achieve this goal" Carlos exclaims, earning a childish giggle and grin from me.

Oh boy, I felt like a teenager all over again. Like the first time we met. My heart was fluttering as if I was jumping non stop on a trampoline. His words swooned me away!

“Being with you is the best choice I’ve ever made. Smartest, wisest and worthy of everything! I love you forever Carlos!”

My head is leaning on his chest, listening to the fast beating of his heart. I put my hand on my chest and the other on his, feeling the synchronicity of the two hearts.

It’s the most beautiful sensation in the entire world! Pure magic.

“Mi amor, I could never imagine a life without you. You are my life and hope you continue to be for years and years to come”

We share one final kiss before being interrupted by Lando once more

“I definitely ain’t third wheeling here, at all people! Please don’t let my presence interrupt ya”

Me and Carlos giggle, being removed from his lap but still holding hands.

Holding on to each other for as long as possible. Not wanting to lose one another.

#carlos sainz f1 #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz junior #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz fluff

[melanieathene]

Suptober 2023 Day 11 - Epic

The temperature dropped; their breath puffed little miniature clouds into the frigid air. An eerie silence embraced the room. One moment she wasn't there; in the next, she materialized with all the elemental force of a hurricane. A window imploded in a shower of deadly glass fragments. Loose items joined it in swirling around the centrifuge of her sudden presence. A lamp, a chair, an end table swept past as if they weighed nothing. Picture frames tore off the walls; books flew from shelves, their pages flapping like frightened birds. She floated in the centre of the maelstrom. Silent. Deadly.

“Poltergeist!” Sam shouted, ducking in the nick of time as a paperweight flew past his head.

Eyes that burned red, in a face whiter than the tattered dress she wore, turned towards him. Her features twisted into a hideous mask of fury, and a boney finger pointed Sam's way, sending a chill racing down his spine. Still, he stood firm, backed into a corner, but determined to protect the little girl who cowered behind him.

The apparition's mouth opened, an ugly gash of crimson in her pallid flesh, and she emitted a bloodcurdling shriek.

“Banshee,” Dean corrected, ushering a second child into the hallway where his frantic parents waited. The door slammed shut behind the boy, barring that route of escape.

The banshee's head turned towards Dean.

“And an ugly one at that,” he taunted, drawing her attention away from Sam, away from the remaining child.

The ruse worked. The banshee was upon him almost before the words had left his lips. He felt invisible, icy fingers grip his heart, and squeeze. As she shrieked again and again, her rancid breath filled his lungs, replacing oxygen with poisonous air. He couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe. His eyesight began to fail; colours dimmed to shades of grey, rapidly darkened to black...

He heard Sam shout, “No!”

Thought he head Castiel scream, “Dean!”

And then he knew no more.

Dean slowly regained consciousness: blinked up at the blue eyes peering intently down at him; discovered, as feeling crept back into his numbed body, that he was being held. Castiel knelt on the floor in a stance like the hero of a romance novel's cover, with Dean as the swooning maiden reclining in his strong embrace.

“Wha' happened?” he mumbled, too dazed and confused to protest the compromising position.

“Cas happened.” Sam's worried face peered over Castiel's shoulder. “You should have seen it, Dean. It was... it was...”

“Epic?” Dean suggested weakly.

“Yeah! Exactly! Epic! That banshee didn't stand a chance. Cas tore her to pieces like he was shredding paper. And then he healed you... though it was touch and go there for a moment.”

“I thought I'd lost you,” Castiel murmured.

Was it Dean's imagination, or was the angel's face closer than it had been before? Closer than it had ever been? Their noses were almost bumping...

Click. The unmistakable sound of Sam's cell phone snapping a picture sounded.

“Bitch,” Dean sputtered.

“Jerk.” Sam grinned.

“Beloved,” Castiel whispered. He closed the distance between them, his lips meeting Dean's with a tenderness that rapidly escalated into passion as Dean began to respond.

If any other pictures were taken, neither Castiel nor Dean paid the clicking noise any mind. They were far too lost in the wonder of each other. And, besides, Dean could deal with Sam and his phone later – but not, of course, until after he'd downloaded those pictures for himself.

#suptober #suptober23 #suptober23 day 11 #destiel #spn #supernatural #dean winchester #castiel #sam winchester

[jerzwriter]

As Planned

Back in December, I posted This Christmas, when Ethan spontaneously (and ringlessly) proposed to Kaycee while shopping for a Christmas tree. Now, I HC that the ring isn't terribly important to either of them... and with their busy lives, it's not at the top of their to-do list. But after an engagement photo shoot without the "real" ring (Picture This), and Kaycee's mom expressing her concern (Patience), it begins to bother Ethan.

This fic begins as Ethan and Kaycee are in NY, preparing to attend his med school buddy Reynaldo's wedding. As they're getting ready, they learn Kaycee's first boyfriend, Tomas, and his girlfriend, Alessandra, have gotten married. Then Ethan's plan goes into motion. I hope you enjoy this!

Book:               Open Heart (Post Series)

Pairing:           Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Kaycee MacClennan)

Rating:            Teen

Words: 2,170

Summary: Above

A/N: Participating in @choicesjunechallenge Proposal

Kaycee put her phone down, a silly, delightful grin spreading on her cheeks. A glance at the clock confirmed she was running ahead of schedule, so she could allow herself time to appreciate this moment. Moving to the hotel suite’s window, she drew back the ornate drapes and peered down at the busy city below. The irony was just delicious.

Tomas, her dear friend and first true love, was married, and she found herself in the city where their love story had taken place. No more than ten blocks from the campus, where they met, fell in love, and spent three years dreaming of the beautiful future they hoped to create until the day they painfully accepted that it wasn’t going to be. She was within walking distance of his old apartment, where they shared their last goodbye as lovers, not knowing what the future would hold. If she thought about it long enough, she was sure she could still recall the pain. The hollow ache in her chest that never seemed to heal. How it crept up each time she tried to fall in love again, a reminder of the pain that was just waiting on the other side of this new, beautiful thing. It sabotaged her more than once, of that she was sure… until, one day, it didn’t.

Ethan was different from the start, and for the longest time, she didn’t understand why. With all the obstacles they faced and all the mountains they had to climb, she never hesitated. Even knowing the hole in her heart could widen enough to engulf her if she lost him, she persevered. And now, as her fiance dressed in the next room, she knew why. In Ethan, she found her home, the place she was always meant to be. As dusk began to fall, the city Kaycee loved so well became illuminated by a million glistening lights, and she smiled. Tomas had found his forever love, Kaycee found hers, and their friendship was as strong as ever. Perhaps this is what it feels like when the puzzle pieces fall in place, and everything works according to plan.

She was making her way back to the vanity; after all, she had a wedding to get to when Ethan entered the room, looking more serious than she would have expected, given the occasion.

“I’m almost done,” she smiled, running a brush through her long, blonde hair. “I promised you I won’t make us late this time.”  

“It’s fine,” Ethan smiled softly. “To be honest, I thought you were already done. You look… you’re breathtaking.”

Kaycee blushed and tilted her head in his direction. “So you approve of the retro hair?” she grinned. “I wanted to try something different, and since I’m wearing a vintage dress….”

“It’s beautiful. Timeless… just like you.”

Her skin all but tingled when he leaned over and placed a tender kiss on the crook of her neck.

“Now, Ethan, I’m not done with my makeup, and if you keep that up….”

“No,” he said, walking to a nearby settee. “Come, sit with me.”

Her brow furrowed, concern growing. “Is everything OK?”

“Yes,” he assured as she sat on his lap. “Have you seen Instagram?”

“You mean Tomas? I have! Isn’t that wonderful news? I’m so happy for them!”

“Are you?” Ethan asked. “I know you’re good friends, but he carried a torch for you for a long time.”

She brushed off the notion with a shake of her head.

“Held. Past tense. From the day he met Alessandra, I knew she was the one for him, and so did he! Eloping in Greece? That is the most Tomas thing I have ever heard! I’m delighted for them. And now, we get to attend your friend Reynaldo’s wedding! This is such a romantic day!”

“Yes, that it is,” Ethan smiled, but Kaycee knew him well, and she saw that smile never reached his eyes.

“I know you’re not exactly a Hallmark movie kind of guy, but you’ve acknowledged it’s a romantic day… so why do you look so… glum?”

Ethan visibly swallowed before taking her face in his hands. “You’re not disappointed… are you? I know I didn’t always make things easy for us. I mean… Tomas met and married Alessandra in half the time we’ve been together. I just hope you’re not disappointed.”

“Ethan Ramsey! Stop it!” She playfully smacked his chest. “Every couple is different. We all have our own rhythm and face unique obstacles. Alessandra and Tomas didn’t have some of the complexities we faced in our relationship… and… well, we all bring our own histories. This is how it worked for them… and this is how it works for us. All I know is that I couldn’t be happier with my fiance.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled sadly. “Your fiance. Your fiance who asked you to marry him seven months ago, yet we haven’t even set a date. You still don’t have a ring on your finger.”

Kaycee reached over and pulled Ethan’s gold signet ring off of her end table. “Oh, really? I beg to differ!”

“That was supposed to be temporary,” he sighed. “It isn’t your engagement ring.”  

Kaycee held the ring close to her heart, appearing almost hurt by his words.

“Ethan Ramsey, I don’t think you’ll ever understand just how precious this ring is to me. No other ring… no ridiculously overpriced bauble you could ever purchase will mean as much to me as this ring does.”

“I know that,” he smiled tenderly, and something about him changed.

“I’ve been trying to decide on a ring for you…,” he started. “In fairness, your lack of input on what you’d like hasn’t made it particularly easy.”

“I’m not here to make your life easy,” she teased. “But seriously, the ring just isn’t that important to me….”

“I’ve talked to Sienna about it at length.”

A broad smile came to Kaycee’s face. He was smart; Sienna was the way to go! She probably knew what Kaycee would want in a ring more than Kaycee knew herself.

“And?”

“And all we’ve ascertained so far is that if I purchase anything ostentatious, you’re likely to kill me.”

Kaycee burst into laughter, see, Sienna was the right move!

“That’s my bestie! She’s not wrong. Not only would it be an obscene waste of money, but it would also be impractical. I’m a doctor. And I’dwant to wear my ring every day. I can’t exactly do that if you buy me some boulder.”

“I understand all of that. But can you understand why that’s difficult for me? When you attain a certain amount of… success… there are expectations. If I don’t go all out,” he said, pouring a glass of bourbon for himself and offering one to Kaycee. “… I feel like if I do less than, I’ll be judged. We’ll be judged.”

“By whom?” she shot back, taking the seat at his side. “And do we suddenly care about what anyone else thinks? Ethan, eloping to Greece was the right thing for Tomas and Alessa. That makes me happy. I want us to do what’s right for Ethan and Kaycee. I don’t care what others think.”  

“I know,” he said, taking her hand. “But it got me thinking….”

“Always dangerous,” Kaycee smirked.

“May I continue?”

“Of course,” she smiled, then coquettishly sipped her drink.

“I started to think about the couples I’ve known throughout my lifetime. Now, you know I’ve always been a pessimist about love, and I’ve blamed my family history. Terrible examples and all… but I realized… the pessimism was my own doing. Sure, my parent’s marriage wasn’t happy or healthy. But they weren’t the only example I had. My father’s parents, my Nana Emma and Pop-Pop John, they had a beautiful marriage. They always loved each other above all else. They came from simple means but built a beautiful life together; they had two beautiful children and adored each other until their final days. So, I always had an example of what a marriage should be. I just… I just chose to focus on the bad. It was just my own fear blinding me.”

Kaycee put her drink to the side and pulled Ethan close in her arms. Kissing the side of his head as she held him closer. 

“Well, you’re not there anymore… and I’m so proud of you. You finally see that you deserve that love, that happiness, too. I’m so honored that I’m the one you’ve decided to share it with. I wish I could have known your grandparents. I would love it if you and Alan could tell me more about their story.”

“I’d like that too,” he smiled, tears in his eyes. “And if it’s all right with you, I’d like it to begin right now…

Kaycee’s eyes widened as Ethan slipped off the settee and rested on one knee on the floor.

“Ethan, what are you….”

He removed a pink velvet ring box from his pocket, opening it to expose a simple, beautiful art deco ring inside.

“Ethan?” Kaycee gasped.

“Like I said, they didn’t have much money, and according to my father, Pop-Pop began saving for this ring on their second date. He knew she was the one, so he put away everything he could for two years to purchase this. They never had much money, but they were the richest people I’ve ever known, rich in all the ways that mattered. Before you came into my life, I was the epitome of success, but at the same time, I was impoverished. I was walking through this life alone, and outside of work, it was devoid of meaning. I had more wealth than my grandparents could have ever dreamed of, but they were far, far richer than I ever thought I could be. You helped me change that, Kaycee, and if I lost every penny I had tomorrow, I’d still be the richest man alive as long as you are by my side. So, I realized there was no ring I could buy you. The only ring worthy of sitting on your finger was at my father’s house, and when I asked him if I could have it… for you… he honestly cried. So, Kaycee MacClennan, I’m asking you once again, with my grandmother’s ring… will you be my wife? Am I lucky enough to have you say yes… twice?”  

Kaycee bit her trembling lip as she fought to stay in the moment, for she knew it was one she’d treasure all her life. But as she looked down at Ethan, gazing at her with all the love in the world, the precious, precious ring in hand, it was hard for her to believe this wasn’t a dream.

“You know!” She finally sobbed, wiping away the tears on her face. “My makeup was almost done… and now… now… I’m breaking my promise, and I am going to make us late.”

“I think I’ll give you a pass,” Ethan winked. “As long as you answer the question right. What do you say?”

“Of course!” She beamed. “Yes! Of course, I’ll marry you. Just try to stop me!”

Ethan’s chest was filled with pride as he slipped the beautiful ring onto his bride-to-be’s finger, then the two collapsed into each other’s arms. After a moment, Kaycee lifted her hand to admire her new treasure and kissed Ethan’s cheek.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I lied to you before.”

“About?” He asked, a hint of astonishment in his voice.

“I said there wasn’t another ring that could mean more to me than the one you gave me, but… this… look at you proving me wrong.”

Ethan pulled back, keeping Kaycee firmly under one arm; he lifted her hand.

“It looks perfect on you… just like it did on Nana. It was meant to be.”

“Just like you and me,” she sighed. “I love you, Ethan Ramsey.”

“And I love you. I love you so, so much.”

“We have Nana and Pop-Pop love,” she giggled.

“Yes, we do!”

Their lips met in a passionate kiss, any remainders of Kaycee’s makeup now firmly a thing of the past.

“So we’re engaged!” He grinned.

“We’ve been engaged!”

“Yes, but now your mother will accept that it’s official.”

“I can’t wait to show her!” Kaycee squealed. “I can’t wait to show everyone!!”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Ethan grabbed his phone and snapped a picture of Kaycee’s hand.

“What are you doing?” she laughed.

“What? Do you think Tomas is the only one allowed to post today? I’m letting the world know you said yes… a second time.”

“You do that,” she grinned. “I’m calling room service, this bourbon is lovely, but this calls for champagne!”

As Kaycee turned to look at Ethan, glowing as he typed away on his phone, she no longer questioned it. This was precisely how it felt when the puzzle pieces fell into place, and everything had worked out better than she… better than anyone…  could have predicted.

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tags in reblog.

#open heart choices #choices open heart #open heart #choices fanfic #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x f!mc #ethan x kaycee #choices fic writers creations #choices monthly challenge #open heart fanfic #ethan ramsey fanfic

[ailendolin]

Happy 800!

Ho-Tan, Vex/Ho-Tan; Touch, Candle

Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy your prompt fic (and that you don't mind that I included the Youngers so prominently)! I had a lot of fun writing it and finding ways for our beloved Yonderland residents to confuse some Christmas traditions from Debbie's world ;)

Explanations for the Youngers' names can be found in this post.

List of prompts is here. Filled prompts are here, here, here, here and here on AO3.

Prompts are closed.

————

The Surprise [AO3]

Ho-Tan knew it was no secret that Debbie’s world fascinated her. She had, after all, written the best-selling tome Birmingham and Beyond – Customs and Traditions from the Chosen One’s World. Debbie had been kind enough to allow her to visit several times so she could conduct her research there which, Ho-Tan was proud to say, had actually included a trip to the local library. She could have spent hours there, lost among the books – and gladly would have if Debbie hadn’t reminded her that time flowed differently in Yonderland and she’d be gone for days if they didn’t leave as planned. The thought of her Youngers and Vex worrying themselves sick about her had ultimately been enough to convince Ho-Tan to pack up her notes and hurry on home.

Vex had laughed when she told him all about it, and with a very sweet kiss to the tip of her nose said, “You can stay in Deb-beh’s world as long as you like, love. We know how much your research means to you.”

“But not as much as you and the children,” she’d whispered before she’d pulled him and the Youngers close.

It had taken her months to turn her endless pages of notes into anything even remotely resembling organised chapters, and even longer to edit it all properly. But after almost a year of hard work, her book had finally been ready for publishing, and to her complete and utter surprise, it became an instant hit. Even though Debbie was no longer going on quests as the Chosen One, the people of Yonderland still considered her their saviour and seemed to be rather curious about her life and the world Nestor of Maddox had entrusted her to when she was but a baby, causing her book’s first edition to sell out within a week.

The Elders weren’t quite so enthusiastic when she gave them their own copy.

“Why are there no pictures in it?” Pressley wondered aloud as he leafed through the 300 pages with a frown on his face.

“There’s a map of Debbie’s world right at the back?” Ho-Tan offered helpfully.

The smile Pressley gave her looked a little forced.

Vex didn’t even pretend he would read it. “Sorry, love, but you know the words become confusing after a while and make my head ache.”

“I still want you to have it,” Ho-Tan smiled, not surprised and certainly not angry. How could she be when Vex put it so carefully on his shelf and she knew he would treasure it for the simple reason that she had given it to him?

She hadn’t planned on giving the Youngers a copy, figuring they would be even less interested in what was, essentially, academic research than their parents were. But then she saw young Sepal reading his father’s copy one day and realised how foolish that thought had been. The Youngers had always embraced things from Debbie’s world, be it her Krismas carols or the annual Easter Egg Hunt. She should have known they would embrace this too and be eager to learn more.

So that evening, instead of a bedtime story, Ho-Tan read to them a chapter from her book. They listened with wide eyes as she talked about the geography of Debbie’s world – “Great Britain is the centre, see?” – and wasn’t surprised when the other Elders joined them the next evening for the second chapter. Just like that it became a family thing, and Ho-Tan wished she could put into words how happy it made her to have everyone she loved together for an hour every night. Their lives were so busy these days what with having to restore order to the other realms – a process that would take years, she feared – that moments like this had become incredibly rare in the last few months. It didn’t help that the Youngers were slowly but surely growing up as well. She knew it was only a matter of time until one of them would declare himself too old for bedtime stories, and Ho-Tan dreaded the moment that day came with all her heart.

“You worry too much,” Vex told her one night, two weeks into their new routine. As gentle as the flutter of butterfly wings, he took the brush out of her hands and began to untangle her hair for her. “It doesn’t matter how old they get. They will never stop needing you, love.”

Ho-Tan met his eyes in the mirror. “I stopped needing my parents. So did you.”

Vex paused his gentle touches to give her hand a squeeze. “That was different.”

“I know but–“

“No, Alfie,” he said. “Our children are growing up more loved than we ever were. They will always be glad to come home to us. I promise.”

He kissed her then, softly, and it was only when he saw a smile pulling at her lips once more that he went back to brushing her hair.

Ho-Tan knew he was right but a part of her still couldn’t help feeling just a little sad at the thought of her sons growing up and possibly going their own ways soon. Neither of them had yet expressed the wish to take on the role of an Elder one day, and just the idea of Alvin travelling the Seven-and-a-half Seas on his own and Irk collecting plants in some jungle far beyond her reach made her want to hoard every laugh and hug like a dragon hoarded its gold. She had always known they would not stay little forever; she’d just thought she’d have a little more time before they grew up she’d have to let them go.

Over the next few weeks, Ho-Tan tried her best not to show how melancholic that thought made her. If the Youngers noticed that she hugged them a little tighter than usual or lingered at their door after she’d kissed them goodnight, they didn’t show it. She was pretty sure Vex had noticed but he didn’t say anything either. He simply held her a little closer at night, his way of silently reassuring her that he was there and that everything would be okay.

It didn’t even cross her mind that he and the Youngers could be planning something to cheer her up until she woke up to soft kisses behind her ear on a Sunday morning four weeks before Thanktival. A glance towards the window told her it was still early – so early the sun was not even up yet and Vex would normally still be fast asleep. Amused and just a little curious, Ho-Tan turned around in his arms and greeted him with a proper good morning kiss. “You’re up early.”

Vex made one of those noises she found incredibly endearing before he said, rather mysteriously, “Well, today is a special day.”

Ho-Tan frowned, trying to figure out what he meant. She was quite sure it wasn’t one of their important days – she’d never forgotten one of those. But what else could it be?

Seeing her confusion, Vex laughed and pressed another kiss to her lips. “Come on, let’s get you up and out of bed, old girl.”

Ho-Tan let him pull her to her feet, still wondering what he was up to. After they got dressed, Vex helped her with her hair – an intimate way of spending time together she’d always loved but rarely allowed herself to indulge in these days. His touch was gentle, ever loving, and she closed her eyes in contentment as his deft fingers skilfully created the braids she had worn all her adult life.

“There, all done,” Vex whispered softly into her ear.

Ho-Tan opened her eyes and, seeing the butterfly hair clip in her hair, smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

Smiling back at her, he took her hand and led her out of the room towards the kitchen. Usually, the kitchen was still dark and empty when Ho-Tan got up in the morning to get breakfast ready. Today, candlelight was spilling out into the hallway in flickering, golden hues when they rounded the corner. Confused and just a little suspicious, she turned to Vex. “What’s going on?”

He merely continued smiling and squeezed her hand. “You’ll see in a moment.”

When the sounds of excited whispers – the Youngers, if Ho-Tan wasn’t mistaken – echoed through the hallway, Vex not so subtly stomped his foot to alert them of their presence. The whispers stopped at once and Ho-Tan bit her lip so she wouldn’t laugh. It was clear Vex and the Youngers had planned something for her – a surprise breakfast, perhaps? – and the last thing she wanted was to ruin the fun.

“Ready?” Vex asked when they were almost at the door. Ho-Tan nodded and let him guide her into the kitchen.

“Happy Advent!” the Elders and Youngers cheered in unison when she walked through the door. They were all there, waving at her with bright grins on their faces or pointing excitedly at what could only be an advent wreath sitting on the middle of the table. Ho-Tan’s vision blurred as she took it all in. It was only a few weeks ago that she’d read them the Krismas chapter from her book. At the time, she hadn’t thought anything about the curious questions the Youngers had asked her about it the next day but now, looking at the beautifully decorated wreath, it all suddenly made sense.

“Did you make this yourselves?” she breathed in awe.

The Youngers nodded.

“Everyone made their own candle. Look Mum, this one’s mine!” Irk said and pointed excitedly at a green candle that had different kinds of leaves all over it. Leaning forward to get a closer look, Ho-Tan felt her heart warm with more love than it could possibly contain when she saw the personalities of her friends and children reflected in all the candles on the wreath, be it in the quill and inkpot on Sepal’s or the pub sign on Pressley’s.

“They look beautiful,” she whispered.

Irk grinned and wrapped his arms around her waist in a hug. “We have one candle for you too!”

Alvin stepped forward and held a plain, dark blue candle out to her. Ho-Tan turned it over in her hands, wondering how she could personalise it, when Vex gently tapped her on the shoulder and held up a golden scroll and apple blossom made of wax. “I hope you don’t mind but I made these for you.”

It was only then that she noticed his own candle, burning brightly in the back of the wreath with a blue butterfly attached to its side next to a glass of sherry. The butterfly looked just like the one he had put in her hair only moments ago.

With shaking hands, Ho-Tan took the scroll and blossom from him. When she struggled to attach them to her candle, overwhelmed as she was, Alvin and Irk stepped in to help. “You’ve got it, Mum.”

She smiled at them through her tears and, together with them, finished the candle and placed it in the empty spot next to Vex’s.

“Light it, Uncle Choop!” Alvin said. Choop grumbled about being ordered around by a child but pulled out a box of matches anyway. A moment later, Ho-Tan’s candle flared to life and added its own glow to the warm light illuminating the kitchen.

“Perfect,” Irk breathed.

It really is, Ho-Tan thought as she looked at the twelve candles burning merrily on the wreath, symbolising not only every one of them but also the twelve realms and, of course, the Twelve Days of Krismas. Ho-Tan wasn’t quite sure if Debbie’s tradition demanded they be lit all at one – Debbie wasn’t quite clear on that – but it really didn’t matter. What did was that her family had made this for her, just because they knew she needed some cheering up and loved the traditions from Debbie’s world. It wasn’t even Thanktival yet, and yet she couldn’t imagine getting a better present this year.

As the others began to pull out plates and mugs from the cupboards to set the table for breakfast, she quietly turned to Vex. “Did you organise all this?”

“Maybe.” He winked at her before he reached out to cup her face. “You know I can’t bear seeing you sad, Alfie.”

Ho-Tan leaned into his touch and smiled when his thumb brushed a stray tear away. “Thank you.”

Vex looked like he wanted to say more but then Irk and Alvin began tugging at her hands, wanting her to move. Laughing through her tears, Ho-Tan let them pull her to her chair.

“We have another surprise for you, Mum,” Alvin said, his eyes gleaming with excitement. “Mr Bojangles helped with this one.”

That was all the explanation she got before he and the other Youngers started singing The Twelve Days of Krismas for her. Delighted, Ho-Tan looked at Vex and found him already smiling back at her, a serene look on his face. He reached for her hand and briefly brought it to his lips to place a kiss upon her knuckles before he gave the Youngers his full attention. Smiling softly to herself, Ho-Tan turned to look at the Youngers too, and as she sat there in the warm glow of the candles, surrounded by the people she loved most in all the realms, she knew she didn’t need to worry about the future. Whatever changes it would bring, her family would always be with her and find a way to make her smile.

#wise elder vex #scribe elder ho-tan #vextan #the elders youngers #yonderland #the elders #yonderland fic #my fic #ask game prompt ficlet #winter prompt fic

[antihibikase2]

Pokemon Blur - Prologue : The Fool

In the lively city of Aspertia, there was a boy that dreamt of being a hero.

Divine dragons of Truth and Ideals, heed the prayers of a foolish heart.

Before we embark on this dangerous quest, shower us with your grace so that we may have a safe journey.

...

The coming of spring is where many dreams would blossom alongside the flowers- following a harsh winter, the people of Flocessy wasted no time in tending to their lands and ranches, eager to see what the rest of the year will bring.

"February was colder than other years," Muses the town mayor. "I hear it was as cold as Sinnoh on a hot day."

From behind her teacup, a blonde laughs.

"Yes! That's what I've been telling Professor Juniper! We're experiencing temperatures never before seen in Unova- I wonder why that is?"

"It's easy to chalk it up to the times, little lass-"

He leans over to refill her teacup.

"-but the youth of today isn't gonna take that for an answer."

"And why would we? If something's up, we ought to be the ones to figure out why; not when you old folks are sitting about."

The blonde's companion, a girl with a massive ponytail, speaks from the window- she does not join the other two in their warm conversation, content with merely listening and occasionally quipping in every now and then.

"You have a point there,"

The mayor laughs.

"Ah, it's good to see you haven't lost your spark, Hilda. Still as abrasive as ever- it's a shame you've taken a break from the subway, Emmet thinks you're a wildcard."

Hilda rolls her eyes- but her companion smiles even brighter.

"Oh, she's been a delight to have around! I make sure she gets plenty of training done even while she's acting as my bodyguard in the field,"

"Bianca,"

"Sorry, sorry- that's for another time!"

Bianca giggles, setting down her teacup and tapping her fingers against the book on her lap.

"It's really nice to catch up with you, Mr. Alder. It's been, um, two years?"

"Two years."

Though the hue of the leaves remain the same, the winds have changed- his guests remain as they have, but the light in their eyes are different.

And speaking of guests.

"Where's your other friend? He was here a few minutes ago, wasn't he?"

"He went out for some fresh air," Hilda replies. "He's taking his Pokemon for a walk."

"The ranch outside of town is lovely- he told me he spent a good quarter of last year's spring season over there."

Alder's mouth makes an "o" shape as he recalls.

"He did, he did- how has he been, by the way?"

For all that she's chatted about today, Bianca finds herself unsure of what to say.

Finally, she picks a word.

"Different-"

And as predicted, Hilda immediately adds "-but better than before."

That's all Alder could ask for- and it was far better news than what he was expecting.

"Okay, that's good. I admit, I wasn't sure what they were thinking when they told me they wanted him in this position, but-"

He glances at the framed picture on the wall- one of him with a group of four youths, wide-eyed and brimming with potential.

"Perhaps you kids can dream of things us grown-ups can't."

He himself hadn't lost the will to dream- but with the reality before him, he had to set aside certain expectations.

That's what it meant to be the Pokemon Champion after all.

An air of melancholy hovers over them as the conversation takes a more somber route- Bianca looks down at her teacup, smile still present, but stiffer than what it usually was.

And Hilda, looking outside the window, speaks up again.

"Guess we're gonna lose that ability soon in a couple of years, huh, Beebs?"

"Oh, hopefully not, Hilly- not with the research I've been doing."

Alder spots an opportunity to talk about something else- this quiet, tense atmosphere was something he didn't want in his house after all.

"Oh? Working hard with Fennel too?"

"You bet! Say, do you wanna know about the effects of Dream Mist- beyond what we know now?"

As the conversation picks up again, Hilda sighs, back leaned against the wall as she gazes out into the blue sky.

They had a few more hours to kill before they were expected to head to Aspertia- and it wasn't like she hated hearing Bianca's voice anyway.

...

"I'm all set, mom!"

She hears the excited footsteps clamoring downstairs, the clicking of plastic and jingling of bells- a collection of keychains.

She exits from her chores in the bathroom, removing her rubber gloves- and is horrified to see the atrocity standing before her.

"Bye bye! I'll make sure to give you a call!"

"Now, wait just a minute!"

She grabs him by the scruff of his jacket, just as he's about to pass by her- and stares incredulously.

In the home of Marianne Blake, things were in an uproar- the day had finally arrived, when her only son would receive a Pokemon of his own from an esteemed professor.

Or at least, the professor's assistant- she was quite a busy woman, she could not be blamed.

Such should be a cause for celebration- but here she was, arguing with her child before he even stepped foot outside.

"Anak, you can't be serious," Marianne takes a good look at him, head to toe.

"Why? What's wrong with it?"

"What- anak,"

She rubs her temples, sighing deeply.

"What even are you wearing? There's a spare backpack for you to use, a much more protective cap- and is that a rash guard you're wearing under your clothes?!"

"I might want to take a dip! You never know!"

"Nathaniel, you better not be leaving the house like that!"

Through the argument, the small boy grinned mischievously at his mother's exasperation, his little cat-smile never leaving his face.

"Crazy, because that's exactly what I'm going to do!"

"Nathaniel!"

"Mamaaaa, who cares what I wear out there? This classifies as acceptable travel gear, you know!"

"Just because it's acceptable- go change into something else before you're late!"

Now came his whine- and his Lillipup eyes.

"You're making me run late here! What will Ms. Alabaster say? That I kept my future partner waiting because I was busy coordinating my outfit?"

She opens her mouth to argue- but groans.

"Ugh, fine, fine. Do whatever you like. I suppose if you think that's fit for travel-"

She looks down at the worn pair of crocs.

"-but at the very least, take these."

Her son tilts his head like a confused dog, wondering what else she has to give besides an additional scolding- but to his surprise, she digs out a box from underneath the staircase.

"I was saving this for your birthday, but since your journey is starting today, you might as well make use of it now."

Opening the box, she reveals a pair of red running shoes, ankle-length- the same ones she knew her son had been eyeing.

"Happy early birthday, Nathaniel- now put these on and go look for Ms. Alabaster."

"Mamaaaaa, thank you!"

He wasted no time settling into his shoes, tapping them against the floor as he felt himself almost standing in the air.

They were a perfect fit.

"Now, remember what I taught you-"

"Yeah, yeah! I get it!"

He opens the screen door with a bang- and promptly terrifies his family's pet Delcatty and her Skitty, awakening them from their slumber.

"Be wise with money, avoid shady characters- and have fun!"

"And come home when you're lost," She reminds him. "If you can't find your way forward-"

"Then I'll retrace my steps back from square one!"

Looking up at the big blue sky, he felt the first page of his journey being written for historians to see.

"Just my style!"

Sprinting out of his house with a loud cheer, Marianne leans against the doorframe with a look of worry- one that quickly melts once she realizes who exactly she is being fussy over.

Still.

From the distance, she hears him yelling.

"Look out, world! Nate's gonna take you by surprise!"

"Dragons,"

She shakes her head.

"Please make sure he doesn't get himself in trouble."

...

The bell of Floccesy Town tolls, it's chimes echoing throughout the area.

The Mareep bleat at the sound, and nearby Riolu peer front underneath the tall grass.

From within a hidden grotto, a figure wrapped in a gray cardigan prays in the shade of the trees-

And a gust of wind overtakes them, as the nests of Pidove and Tranquil resting on the branches soar to the skies.

They cover their face, steadying their ground,

And the ribbon wrapped around their collar unravels, carried by the wind.

#bw/bw2 rewrite #bw2 arc

[like-rain-or-confetti]

5 ⭐️ Recommendations!

Okay, so PLEASE do your research for these because im not taking responsibility. In the same way, i have a look at what i get before i read, i ask you to do the same. I am guilty of not doing enough research, but I have seen people in the past get hate because of the 'why didn't you tell me ___' factor. So... Warning! Some of these books may have smut or generally 18+ content. PLEASE do you research before you read!💙

Self-Help

The Happiness Trap pocketbook by Russ Harris. - this is the condensed illustrative version of the Happiness Trap textbook. There are another two. If you want a smaller easy to read version of these, go for the pocketbook. I was recommended this by my therapist.

101 Essays That Will Change the Way You Think by Brianna West. I bought a physical copy of this book, I loved it so much. Let me paint you a picture. Like I've said before, my mental health tanked after 2020 covid. My life went on hold completely, and there was nothing left. I needed a change of perspective desperately because I'm now 26 years old and I was using an old mental system that protected me when I was a teenager. That doesn't work when you're in your 20s. This book blew my mind and I bought a physical copy that I practically use as a bible. So if you're feeling lost, like life is too hard or simply don't know what you want to do with your life- this book is what you want. It helped me a bunch through therapy and I recommended it to all my friends. It's written by various people, some of which was heartfelt "I wish someone told me this before so I'm telling you now." It's very comforting to me. Like a honest friend giving some honesty as well as not leaving you feeling helpess. Absolutely brilliant. I have mine annotated and still am annotating it to continue creating that new mental system I want to have.

Romance

Flowers for the Devil by Vlad Kahany. - A 18+ historical romance for my peeps! We follow a countess and her forbidden love with the villain of society itself. Set in 1851, making it victorian era romanceeeee! This is one of the most spiciest books I've ever read. Like I was taken aback. I'm not sure if it really counts as 'dark romance' as the sub-genre because it's not the same as other books I've heard of but it's a dark book in itself...and there's romance and an ungodly amount of spice but a very good take on the 'falling for the villain' but I would say do the research first because I did not and I was taken aback by the very veeeery descriptive smut with the borderline stalkery villain.

Beach Read by Emily Henry. Contradictory to my story graph, I am not a big romance girlie... but I want to be. Sometimes, I need a break from the doom and gloom and need an easy, simple book about the wonderous world of love and this one was a hit. Two writers, two different genres, switch genres to get out of their slumps. I give thee grumpyxsunshine trope. Which I have a major soft spot for. A very easy book to read!

Romantasy

Heartless by Marissa Meyer. - Any Alice in Wonderland fans? I love it, and I have so much love for this book that in my brain, it's practically canon. This book follows the journey of the Red Queen before she became Queen of Hearts and how expectations and love can descend someone into madness. It's heartbreaking in the sweetest way and a love story that I still think about on a regular basis. What a prequel take to Alice's Adventures in Wonderland.

A Dowry of Blood by S.T. Gibson. -Oh dracula fans in the house! Well, it never explicitly states its Dracula but...it's Dracula. This book follows the first wife of an unnamed vampire and his downfall. This is definitely 18+ as far as I remember. There are LGBTQ+ themes and polygamy and themes of having multiple sexual partners. Definitely something you'd enjoy if you enjoy a take of a woman taking back her power. As a vampire lover myself, I ate this book upppp! Old school vampires. ABSOLUTELY CHECK TRIGGER WARNINGS. There are some heavy themes that will likely trigger some people so definitely do your research!

Carmilla by J. Sheridan Le Fanu. I'VE FOUND A CLASSIC THAT I BELIEVE DESERVES THE TITLE OF A CLASSIC. This is a sapphic love affair between a vampire and a human. It's classic vampire description written in the 1800s and its brilliant. I will die on this hill that its a love story. I can't express why without giving it away but this is the OG forbidden love story. It's super short and absolutely amazing.

That Time I Got Drunk and Yeeted a Love Potion At a Werewolf by Kimberly Lemming. So I did an oops and read book 2 before book 1 one the series which I won't lie, didn't do too much damage so no harm really done but this series is HILARIOUS. Book 1 and 2 follow two POC females who just so happen to be besties. (If anyone is looking for more poc books) Each one got drunk and ended up finding their mate. This writers humour is excellent, very modern day and not forced. These books are SPICY just as much as they are funny. So definitely 18+.

Horror

Hide by Kiersten White. Would you like to play a game? So it isn't Saw by any means, Amanda or Jigsaw aren't here and neither is the spooky doll on a trike...but there is a game. This is a deadly game of hide and seek in an abandoned theme park. One week, don't get caught and you'll get life changing money...but they didn't exactly mention what would happen if you did get caught. Mack is one of fourteen competitors, our main girl with a dark past and there's a whole new level of horror to discover the reasons people would ever create such a game. There is some LGBTQ+ themes and I can't say anything more without spoiling. Just know I'm very pleased. There are some triggering themes like death and murder so as usual check this is okay for you to read.

The Last Days of Jack Sparks by Jason Arnopp. -What does the dumb dumb skeptic do? Provoke a demon of course and demons never back down. Jack Sparks is a writer and paranormal skeptic. Working on his new book, he is invited to witness an exorcism (which hell to the no) and his life is never the same as an unknown entity ruins his life one piece at a time using those around him. This is the book for you if you want a read where the main character is not loveable at all. He makes bad decisions and a terrible person to everyone he loves. I'd say there are also found footage vibes as this book is pieced together by Jack's estranged brother who is trying to understand just what happened to his brother. I personally found the story so good that it didn't take away from the plot. I didn't rage read this and hate the story because I didn't like the main character. It was oddly fitting and I definitely intend to read more of Arnopp's work.

Penpal by Dathan Auerbach. -I'll start with this, it's definitely horror/thriller. There's a dash, a pinch, a smidge of mystery in the background but this is no doubt horror. Now, this book made me uncomfortable. This book is my answer to 'can you really get scared of books like you can movies?' Yes, the fuck, you CAN. Our adult main character looks back on the strange happenings in his childhood. It all started with the class of 5 year olds writing letters to strangers and it all just went wrong. So I can remember some trigger warnings that I know will upset people as some of them were a shock. There are mentions of animal cruelty and death, death, stalking and implied pedophilia. Also major spoiler (SPOILER) death of a child. SPOILER #2: Grown man is obsessed with child for years whilst the child has no idea. There's also a mystery to solve. Now you may ask why would I spoil this one and not others...because whilst I could stomach it (much to my surprise) it's a shock and I don't feel right recommending this book, as crazy good as it is, without you being aware that I'm not just hyping it up. These are sensitive topics and whether you know it or not, it'll still be a shocking read.

The Vessel by Adam L.G. Nevill. Another short read and listen I thought this was spooky. It won me over for being spooky. THEN THE TWIST HAPPENED and GUYS...this is a masterpiece. We follow a single mother who has taken up a job as a carer as she tries to support herself and her child after escaping an abusive relationship. The old woman she looks after is brutally mean, like you're-lucky-you-dont-have-family-because-your-ass-would-go-to-a-care-home-otherwise. Her house is old and weird with strange happenings. She's a crabbit, violent old bitch and she...happens to get attached to the main characters daughter. Terrific. This book isn't a regular old haunting. Infact, the living are more terrifying than the dead in this book and the mystery is amazing. I ended up not hating the old lady in the end as you get her back story. And I can't express enough just WTF?

What Moves the Dead by T. Kingfisher. - A historical horror! So I finished watching the Fall of the House of Usher just before starting this, completely unaware that I once again would be returned to The Madeline and Roderick Usher. This book is inspired by Edgar Allen Poe's stories on the Usher family with a unique twist. A family friend (our main character) has received word Madeline Usher is sick and has come to visit to find things aren't great with the isolated Usher's and their home. Something has taken up residence. What was originally considered a haunting or the results of age is discovered to be a fungus taking over. No, that isn't a spoiler. The description tells you, hehe. It's a short read that's definitely creepy and a lovely mix of seemingly paranormal and zombie vibes.

Found: An anthology of found footage horror stories by Andrew Cull and Gabino Iglesias. - Calling all found footage fans! Same here! So I wasn't sure how this would work as a book. It works. Just as brilliantly. I read this for the Halloween spirit and this is an easy would reread any time of the year. Its a bunch of short stories from various writers and some of the stories are still stuck with me now.

Mystery

If We Were Villains by M.L Rio. Trust the theatre kids to take things too far, eh? This is dark academia aesthetic at full blast. A group of friends, one ends up dead and only the friends know the truth about what happened. They love their Shakespeare as far as I remember. I got recommended this and when I tell you this book takes you on a JOURNEY. It's very poetic and reminds me a lot of 'The Secret History' which is very much in the same genre. If this doesn't convince you- I grew up watching pretty little liars and this was so refreshing. It draws you in the same way but doesn't over do it. Plus you're in on the secrets this time! The twist was exceptional and I remember needing to take a breather before I went to even consider another book. It was perfect.

Thriller

The Sundown Motel by Simone St. James.- I think this was the first book that I read that got me back into reading. It could go in thriller or mystery if I'm honest, but I'm putting it here. You follow two characters. A girl who's Aunt disappeared decades prior, takes the same job in the same Motel her aunt disappeared in hoping to find out just what happened to her aunt. The second being the Aunt and what happened before she went missing. So there are some time jumps but it's rather easy to follow along. I wasn't so intimidated by that format as I usually am. There is an element of paranormal in this book! And I love itttt! A very easy read but did suspect one of the twists...definitely didn't suspect the main twist though.

Fiction

Before the Coffee Gets Cold by Toshikazu Kawaguchi. This book is now one of a series. This book stabbed me in the heart and twisted in my chest...and I ended up thanking it. It's multiple stories. There is a simple, quiet coffee shop with a rumour attached to it. One of the chairs has the ability to make a person travel in time. The book follows a woman who wants to timetravel for reasons you'll find out in her turn and the coffee shops regulars. A definite tear jerker for me that helps you see the beauty of life even in the most painful of times. If you have the ability to go back in time but can't change the past, what exactly is the point? Well, the book will tell you why. So beautiful and an easy read. Again, check for any trigger warnings. There are sensitive themes in this book.

This Is How You Lose the Time War by Max Gladstone and Amal El-Mohtar. So I gave this a five star because the ending was magnificent and I can see why it was hyped up BUT I wouldn't classify this as an easy read. I got confused a lot with the Science fiction elements but I might just be dumb af. So if you're interested, you have to really focus on the book. If you skim read or anything like that. You'll have no idea what's going on. Red and Blue. That's their names. They're spies -I think female if I remember?- and their fighting in the war between the more natural world and the industrial world. Or atleast that's how I perceived it. The book is following Red and Blue's taunting notes they leave to one another in various eras and places but gradually turn into something else. Forbidden love. What I'm pretty sure is LGBTQ+. The ending decked me and so even though I found it complicated to wrap my head around some times, I loved it.

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by V.E. Schwab. Where... do I even start? So I think if I were ever to get a tattoo. It'd be something from this book. It is an historical fiction/romance about a woman who has been cursed by an entity. No one can remember her. She can't even utter her own name. Yet a few hundred years down the line, someone remembers her. This book is just beautiful. There's nothing else to say. AND THATS ALL IM SAYING BECAUSE THIS BOOK IS SO DEEP TO ME.

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid. A historical fiction following a celebrities lifestory. Evelyn Hugo gives me Marilyn Monroe vibes and how Hollywood was back in the 1950's. A young woman is given an unexpected opportunity to write this timeless actress biography...the truth. Something the public never heard before.

Non-Fiction

Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom. A book Mitch wrote about his old mentor and the advice he had to give on how to live life. It's a short read and incredibly emotional to have the perspectives of life by someone half way or younger through their life and someone who's life is coming to an end.

#vanitytalksbookish #book recommendations

[unohanabbygirl]

What are you thoughts on a FMN scenario where Luke does remember before he meets the family, but while he is still coming to terms with his death and the way his family suffered at the green’s hands, he sees the entire group hanging out and being civil, and even happy. He feels a combination of anger, betrayal, and a sort of sickening understanding that he was the problem that tore the two factions apart. His family wouldn’t have died if he hadn’t been so weak. Paradoxically, it would also be sort of interesting for Luke to imprint a sort of blame directly on Aemond for his current situation and the assaults he’s been through. If Aemond hadn’t killed him then everything would have been different. If his past life had been different maybe he could have remembered earlier and been strong enough to free himself of all the abuse he’s suffered. But he also believes that the abuse is a punishment for his actions killing his entire family. Is this rational? Of course not! But it doesn’t have to be. I just was wondering your thoughts on a FMN Luke who comes face to face with Aemond and just wants to take a knife to his throat, while at the same time feeling a bitter betrayal that his family forgave the greens. Expand??

A scenario like this is interesting to delve into considering that Luke’s past self esteem issues due to viewing himself as an unworthy royal and his current self esteem issues with viewing himself as someone unworthy of bodily autonomy clash together to create this horrible mess.

While Luke would absolutely jump to conclusions that the issues among their family had been his fault all along, shifting that blame towards Aemond is more likely in this particular AU. After all, Aemond chasing him down on a hundreds year old war hardened dragon is what led to his death anyway. Aemond sneaking off in the middle of the night to claim Vhagar without even giving Rhaena a chance to try and bond with her deceased mother’s dragon led to their big fight in the first place. Every painful moment leads back to Aemond and it creates a hate in Luke’s heart that slowly begins to break him.

As Luke allows his mind to race he can’t help but see every issue both past and present as Aemond’s fault. Not only had Aemond taken his life, but his actions are the reason Luke was born into a life of abuse. I even Imagine him going as far as to stalk the others social media. Scrolling through every loving moment that he wasn’t apart of. The trips to Disney world, birthday dinners and extravagant parties. Graduations and first days of school. Moments that truly helped bring them all together were so clearly happy and free of worries. Free of him.

But what really kills Luke is seeing that his true father seems to have become a father like figure to his murderer. All the while Luke wasn’t even allowed to speak the man’s man. Let alone open his mouth to ask anything about him.

I think Luke would develop a hard grudge towards Rhaenyra for the this. Angry that she so easily lied to his face, speaking of Baratheon blood she knew he didn’t have. The fact that there’s pictures of her, Harwin, and Aemond huddled together as though they’re one big happy family destroys Luke. Seeing that she allows Harwin to be a father to Aemond when she didn’t even think he was worthy of knowing Harwin was his real father all those years ago.

of course these moments were always dulled and pain filled without Luke there with them. But he’s too blinded by his anger and feelings of betrayal to even think of what everyone may have been feeling internally despite their smiles for the camera.

Lucemond’s first meeting would be one for the books. Aemond’s blinded by finally being reunited with his long lost love right before catching a right hook to the side of his jaw.

#asks

[saintheartwing]

Welcome to the Bottom: Miracle

Blue Diamond couldn't help but feel something wasn't quite right. She hadn't seen Yellow or White Diamond around, and that was unusual. Especially when an enormous, week-long party was happening! Spinel had been inspired by that charming young Steven to throw a wonderful bash for an entire week, and it felt good to unwind and relax for a week, especially after decades upon decades of sorrow swelling up in Blue.

Blue Diamond had found out that she could generate pure joy in others through her mighty empathic powers. No longer would she cry and cry and have her sorrow infecting ever gem around her. No, from now she'd bring happiness to others, letting any gem that wanted it come inside her room for a pick-me-up.

Blue scratched her head, glancing around, hearing the faint hustle and bustle of partygoing off in the distance as a topaz in a fancy blue outfit approached and saluted, her hair nice and pointy. "My Diamond!" She said with her crossed-arm salute. "We've got some VERY troubling data coming out from a sector, it's in open revolt! We've lost almost all contact with our scouts there!" She said as Blue looked down, concerned.

"Where's the sector?"

"It's…THAT one, my lady. The one home to those…insectoid aliens. The ones that actually managed to fight us off."

Blue's eyes went wide. "Oh. OH!" Her hands flew to her mouth as the topaz led her down the hall. "I've not thought of that world in ages, I thought they were all long gone…you said our scouts have stopped reporting in? Did they get anything back to us in time?" She wanted to know, her voice filled with concern. "They're not shattered, are they?"

The topaz led her into the room and Blue knelt down to examine the computer screens. Blue reached down to flick through the data, when suddenly big, fat letters popped up on the screen that read one word.

"GOTCHA"

And then, a brief, agonizing moment of pain before-

All…was darkness.

…

…

…

…Steven felt a brief tinge of pure, raw terror rise in him. He'd never really seen another alien race before, and this person, whoever or whatever it was, he knew. It had gotten into his head and tossed him around like a leaf in a storm. He was very vulnerable, and more importantly…so were his family, who even now were fast asleep in other rooms.

"Your daneem, if you're concerned about him, is fine."

"…what?" Steven stared at this blind being, clear confusion on his face as the white-eyed alien being sighed.

"Ah, my apologies. The term is "father". "Dad", right?" The being asked. "He's not hurt. Before I walked into your house, I did a little basic sweep of the inhabitant's minds…well, tried to." The white-eyed being sighed. "It was VERY difficult for those gems. I almost couldn't reach them, their little imitation of organic shells was hard to pierce until I looked at it much like my own race. You need to approach things more…cautiously…when your true self isn't what others see. Your dad was very easy, though. His mind's an open book. Not having a good time, either. Tomorrow's the anniversary of the day you were born and his wife died…the day Rose Quartz, or rather, Pink Diamond…left this world."

Indeed, it was difficult at first to get through the house. Darth had bumped into walls a few times, cringing, rubbing his knees under the white robes he wore, but thankfully, Steven had carried the doll around in enough places inside the house that he could get a clear enough mental picture of where everything important was. His father had been sleeping downstairs, having fallen asleep in front of the television, watching old home movies of Rose Quartz and his dreams had been filled with her.

Gently, Darth had kneeled by Greg Universe and taken in his mind as gently as possible, cupping it in his mental hands as if it was a baby bird you had to be careful not to drop. Greg was sitting on a bench with Rose, brown hair flowing down his back, an earring piercing his left ear and wearing a thick jacket as the wind blew through his and his wife's thick, long locks. Her pink hair bounced a bit as she gently rubbed up against him, resting her head on his, a giant specimen of woman in a beautifully frilly, pinkish/white dress, her lovely gem resting at the center as she and he watched the sun setting over the park.

Darth took in the scene quietly, seeing it clearly in Greg's mindscape. One of the benefits to being a telepath was that sight could come easily if you saw through other's eyes, and this scene was clear as day. The two were just drinking in one another's presence, but Darth could feel the sadness welling up in Greg, for he knew that this was the last day they'd had together before…before she decided it was time to change. She would turn into baby Steven, transforming forever, and never coming back. And it'd been an unusual day in December indeed, not an ounce of snow save for a few tiny little flakes that softly fluttered down almost like cherry blossom petals in an otherwise clear sky.

The other gems had also been dreaming of her, but Darth hadn't felt an ounce of guilt over barging his way into THEIR minds. After all, they were gems. Their race…what they'd done to his, he couldn't just ignore, so he hadn't cared that it had hurt them to find a presence in their mindscape. He hadn't hid himself at all before breaking down their mental barriers as easily as tissue paper once he finally WAS inside their minds, but…

Greg was different. He hadn't done anything wrong. He was just a man mourning the woman he loved, torn between his devotion to her, and the joy of new fatherhood.

Gently, Darth patted Greg on the shoulder, and let his gift wash over him. Greg's dream would be peaceful and happy for the night as he gently stripped him of the sadness that threatened to swell up. A brief respite…if only for one night. Let the man have a happy dream, as Greg found himself not just with Rose Quartz, but baby Steven as well, in his arms, as Rose gently tickled the babe's tummy.

"Look, he got your eyes." She insisted sweetly as she then kissed Greg on the cheek. He felt tears of joy swell up in his eyes as he gently rocked the laughing little baby Steven back and forth, Darth smiling and wiping away his own tear before he vanished.

Now, though, he stood before Steven, and his face wasn't quite as kindly as it'd been in Greg's dream.

"My kind would have…words with you for what your Diamonds did."

"Look, I…I'm not my mom." Steven began to say. "Your name's, uh…"

"Darth."

"Darth?" Steven scratched his head. "Look, please, like I said, I'm not her. She turned into me, sure, but…all I have are her memories. SHE's…gone." He trailed off, glancing to the side as a pang of sadness stabbed briefly into his heart.

"Oh, perhaps, yes. That does seem to be the case. And we wouldn't want an innocent paying for what your scummy, disgusting Diamonds did. But you have to understand we want to be sure. After all, we have a different, darker hatred for Pink Diamond." Darth intoned. "For she was there, as my world burned…and simply turned aside. She saw it was wrong…and did nothing. That…for me, and for my beloved friend, was worse. Having somebody hurt you, not knowing it's wrong…it's much worse seeing someone who knows you're in pain, and instead of helping, seeing them turn away, ignoring your suffering. So…to that end…I'd like to ask you to come with me. You and your Crystal Gem friends. Because if you don't…I am going to do so much worse than give them nasty nightmares, Steven Universe. I went EASY on them."

"Wh…what's going on?!" Pearl whispered as she sat in the middle of a red room, a room the color of blood as big, fat, gigantic black beetles with ugly, pulsating compound eyes crawled on over to her, one of them holding up a small tea tray, and setting it down as they began to pour out a thick, black ooze into the cup.

"Hello, Pearl. Welcome to the black bug room. Everyone has a black bug room, and this is yours. Sugar?" It asked, holding up a big sugar cube…perfectly cut in the shape of her head before it dropped it into the ooze, and Pearl watched it dissolving…changing into a "flesh and blood" head that began to scream and SCREAM AND SCREAM-

"AGH! Get them off me, get them off me!" Ruby was shrieking, clawing at the tiny little other black Rubies who were crawling all over her. The square, dark-reddish-haired, slightly muscular and short gem that made up half of Garnet howled as the little Rubies punched and bit and clawed at her skin, all of them speaking in her voice.

"You're a fraud!"

"You're stupid and ignorant!"

"Stop pretending you're not just like us!"

"You're dragging Sapphire down and holding her back!"

"What do you even BRING to the marriage?"

"R-Ruby, Ruby we need to talk about our relationship." Sapphire said, her thick, light blue locks cascading around her in a messy splotch as her singular eye gazed out at Ruby as she laid on her butt nearby. A gigantic spider was forcibly holding her eye open with webbing, stuck on her forehead as several other spiders were pinning her arms to her sides. Another, much LARGER one, had cast silken threads over her head and were moving her head around and making her "speak" like she was a puppet. "Ruby, Ruby, listen, the bugs say we should talk…"

"I'm not I'm not I'm NOT!" Amethyst was sobbing as she curled up in a ball, stuck in a deep, dark hole, surrounded on all sides by other quartz soldiers just like her, their eyes sunken in and hollowed out, as they frowned down at her. Instead of proper eyes, centipedes rose out from the sockets, and click-clack-clicked at her, speaking in an unintelligible cacophony of voices…but the meaning was obvious. "Don't call me weak! I'm fine! I'm fine with what I am! I know they love me! I'm not a mistake! I'm not I'm NOT I'M NOT!"

Steven had raced down the steps and found all of the Crystal Gems were flopped together in a pile, tossing and turning on the floor. He gasped in horror, his eyes wide before he wheeled around. "Please, stop this!" He begged of Darth as Darth sighed and then snapped his clawed digits.

In an instant, each of the Crystal Gems conked out completely and drifted into utterly dreamless, peaceful slumber without an ounce of cohesive thought. Nothing but an almost oppressive quilt of sleep now permeated their minds as Darth shrugged. "Would you now be so kind as to follow me outside?" He asked politely. "I can tell you're thinking about knocking me out. I wouldn't try that, it would take less than a second for me to break their minds, now that my hooks are deep into them."

Steven unclenched the fist he'd had curled up, and took in a deep breath. He didn't want to risk his friends enduring lasting damage. "…I'll come with you." he said, following the blind alien outside of his home, as Darth nodded and then glanced up. Steven did the same, just in time to find himself enveloped in light, and then…

Then he was there, in the middle of an enormous ship, the walls purplish in tone, and surrounded by the same insectoid alien race Darth belonged to. On the walls to the west were VERY tall-looking aliens, in quite fancy armor, the last one being a rather beautiful blue specimen, a woman with elegance and grace in her eyes that Steven stared at, his eyes lingering upon it.

The aliens couldn't help but see he was transfixed and looked at him as Darth spoke up. "I can see through your eyes you've noticed our Tall Wall." He chuckled. "We have portraits of ALL the Tallest we've had. Miyuki was our last official one."

"She's pretty." Steven said, looking impressed. "Especially her eyes…" He added as he then looked back at Darth, and realized with a shock that wait! He had, aside from the color…the same type of eyes. "Wait, are…are you and her…?"

"She was my maneem. She created me. My mother, as it were, just as Rose is yours." Darth said. "I was actually supposed to be born a girl. Didn't quite work out that way. I was also supposed to be born with sight. Didn't work out that way either, but Miyuki loved me all the same." He wistfully sighed, closing his eyes. "Mothers, eh?" He chuckled a bit as a green-eyed alien with a black set of armor who had the red symbol for care across his chest plate raced over to Steven, inspecting him, holding up a little flashlight and looking into his eyes.

"Pupils dilating alright…breath is normal…say "ahhh", please?" He asked Steven.

"Um…aaaahhh?" Steven opened up his mouth as the green-eyed, black-armored medic examined him, holding his chin slightly with a gauntleted hand. Steven couldn't help but notice that strange tubes were attached from the gauntlets he wore to the metallic backpack-like thing he wore, little…THINGS…jostling about inside the tubes.

"Well, you need to brush your teeth more." The medic poked at a spot on his canines. "And how often do you floss?"

"Uh…once a week?"

"Oh, you've GOT to do it more than that, believe me, I know, we Irkens have a high-sugar diet, we know what it's like to not want to floss but it is VERY necessary. Especially for a young human lad like you!" The medic chuckled. "Other than that, you look like you're in fine condition. Good, good! You should do well in the arena!"

"Arena?" Steven asked nervously as the other Irkens all grinned at one another, then at Steven.

"Oh, Jayd, you gave the game away." Darth chuckled. "We're going to deliver fresh, public justice to the Diamonds authority." He remarked. "They'll be broken for everyone to see, their humiliation and defeat…and deaths…broadcasted for the whole galaxy to behold!"

"But our NEW Tallest couldn't ignore his sense of fair play. We're happy to give you a chance to fight for their lives." Jayd added with a nod. "You beat our most skilled fighters, himself included, and we'll be glad to let them go and let you get on with your lives. We'll even let you bring your Crystal Gem friends along with you for help if you'd like."

"You guys managed to…" Steven hesitated but then spoke up. "HOW did you get hold of the Diamonds? Like…they're the Diamonds! They're really, really strong, and they all live in the palace and have guards up the wazoo!" He asked, confused.

"Oh, we just dressed up as guards, had them come into a room, bend over to look at a star chart on a computer and then conked them out over the head." Said a cheerily-grinning, orange-eyed guard who was looking over some overly-large jewelry that very clearly didn't belong to her, given how she was wearing the ring that had been a little trinket of White Diamond's on her neck as a would-be DRESS.

"…you're kidding." Steven was astounded.

But, truth be told, that actually wasn't too far off from what had actually happened. It had taken every single psychic in the Empire to pull the plan off, as they'd snuck into the palace, copying the clothing and the style of the palace guards, and then setting up an immensely elaborate mental glimmer around them to make them look just LIKE one of the guards. One by one they'd imitated officers, sneaking up the ladder to the highest Topazes at the top, before asking the Diamonds if they could, oh pretty please, inspect this very troubling new transmissions on this computer!

Right…over…here.

And specifically, right underneath what, unbeknownst to the Diamonds, was the second part of the plan. Gem destabilizers, hidden as decorations that hung from the ceiling! The minute the Diamonds had knelt down to inspect the screens on the computers, the consulars had activated the gem destabilizers, turning them all on at once, and sure enough, not even the DIAMONDS could stand up to a full barrage of that, especially when caught off guard.

"It took us weeks to make the trap with the destabilizers." The blue-eyed, labcoat-wearing Irken said as he held up a familiar sight to Steven. He swished the handheld gem destabilizer about with a big grin. "Ones large enough to take on your Diamonds were so hard to carry in under the cover of night, but with enough of a mental glimmer set up to disguise ourselves, and better still, that "Spinel" gem distracting everyone with a week-long celebration of the anniversary of the "freedom of Gem Homeworld", we were able to get it done. We understand it was you who suggested an entire week of partying? Thanks for that!" Trik remarked cheerily.

"We had to keep mind-wiping this one Aquamarine who kept popping into the room though…it got really annoying." A pink-eyed, white-robed Irken sighed. "Eventually we figured out a way to distract her when I brought up your name, she got SUPER angry about you for some reason, and I walked alongside her for a good two hours, through the halls of the palace as she complained about how you'd ruined everything. I lost out on getting to enjoy the punch at the party!" He pouted as he put his hands on his hips.

"Which was a shame, because that punch WAS delicious." Darth added with a chuckle. "So were the cupcakes. I had no idea Ms. Spinel was such a fine culinary artist."

"Maybe if I could just…talk to your boss?" Steven asked gently. "Can't we all just…get along?"

The Irkens in the room immediately, angrily, all yelled out, as one…

"NO!"

"Hey now, let's not be too hasty." A voice rang out as Steven turned, and saw a green-clothed, spiky-antannae-having Irken with almost bellbottom-esque pants walking towards him. He cheerily slid down the green "mask" covering he had over the bottom half of his face as he bowed, Steven Universe bowing slightly back. He was taller than the other Irkens, maybe by about a foot, though clearly not as tall as the Irken leaders in their portraits on the western wall. "Steven, right? I'm Senior. I'm the new head of the Irken Empire. Why don't we…talk privately?"

Steven gulped a bit as he was led down a long, dark purple hallway, Senior's hands behind his back as his antennae curled slightly down, over his head. The Irken took in a deep breath before he spoke, and Steven could hear him trying to hold back anger. "Steven…I'm not in a good mood. And I should be. We have the Diamonds right where we want the and could just eject them into deep space and let them float forever in agony. But for all we know, they could fly. And most of my people want them dead. Shattered into chunks to be put on display in the memorial museum on Irk that USED…to be a smeetery. Where our young were created." Senior's gloved hands clenched into fists. "But then we have you. YOU'RE technically an innocent. And when we heard you'd been trying to have the Diamonds undo the damage they'd done to their own kind, well…my people got a bit more…uncertain. I, especially. After all, if you're actively trying to undo the damage you did, that should count for something. And in my book, it does, but…well…the damage your Diamonds did to us, that…THAT can't be undone."

He stopped in front of what was clearly a private bedroom, a big, fat "Do NOT Disturb" sign emblazoned on the front. "We had a chat with your people when we were disguised as Topazes in your palace. The Diamonds were combining their power to bring back gems who'd been corrupted, to return them to normal…correct?"

"Yes, and we've even been able to bring back shattered gems with my help. I, uh…" Steven hesitated. "I can um…I can, like, lick things and heal them through my saliva. And sometimes my tears, too. It was something my mom could do, she would cry on stuff and it'd bring them back to life."

"Even if, say…a gem was shattered?" Senior asked. "Or, perhaps, if an organic life was dead?"

Steven suddenly realized what Senior was getting at. He remembered the visions he'd seen. "Y-Yeah! Look, if you've got someone you want healed, I can do it!" He offered as he smiled at Senior. "Just bring me to them."

"Alright…" Senior opened up the door, and there, lying on a bed, was Tallest Miyuki. She seemed almost…tiny in death. Her form was frail now, one arm hanging limp, her head turned to the side. A distinct, horrible scent filled the air as Senior covered his face in one hand, and took in deep, rasping breaths. "She…she died on the way here. We couldn't do anything for her. But…if YOU can, then…then maybe this can still be set right." He whispered. "Please. Please, help her." He begged as he pulled his hand away, and Steven saw the tears in his eyes, tracing burning lines down his cheeks.

Steven raced over to Miyuki's bed, and gently lifted her up. He took in a deep breath, licking over his lips, and then kissed her forehead. SMMMMMMK. A long, deep kiss, and a soft, tender aura of pink rose over him. Miyuki's body shook and shuddered, and then…something began to happen. Steven beamed in delight, Senior's eyes wide and his mouth agape as her frame began to breathe, her skin turning a distinct pink color, shifting from green to a delightful cotton-candy shade! Steven stepped back, Senior racing over to her as the wounds she'd endured began to dissolve away, her frame getting more full, more healthy as she rose up, clutching her chest.

"What in the…where…where am I?" She looked around, staring about before she saw Senior. "Senior! Senior, is that you? I…I feel so strange." She murmured. She clutched her head as Senior's tears flowed freely down his cheek, and he embraced her whole-heartedly. The door to the room slowly opened, and one by one, the Irkens who'd spoken to Steven before peered in. From Jayd to Darth to Trik, they all gasped in awe, looking on, stunned and delighted.

"You're alright! Oh Thank goodness, thank you, thank you, thank you!" Senior sobbed. "It's alright, Miyuki! You're back! You're back!"

"I…I was…dead. I WAS dead, wasn't I?" Miyuki asked, patting Senior on the back as Steven nervously blushed and stepped down from the bed to give Senior some space with Miyuki, the other Irkens all now warmly smiling at him.

"Yeah, yeah you were. But it's okay! You're fine now. Steven here's a human, Miyuki. He had Pink Diamond's gem in him, and he brought you back. If he can bring YOU back, we can bring them ALL back!" Senior proclaimed joyously, but then Miyuki gently pushed him back, and Senior saw something was wrong. They ALL saw something was wrong, because…Miyuki had a deeply sad smile on her face.

"I can't. I'm…not here for long. I can feel it." She said, as Steven gasped in horror. Her pink shade was fading. She was reverting back to her green skin! "Let me guess." She turned to Steven. "Your healing is excellent for organic life, right? Well, the problem is we Irkens, well…our true selves are in our PAKS." She pointed at the metallic "backpack" on her back, and sighed sadly, giving Steven a sorrowful smile. "It was very sweet of you to try and help but…I don't think it'll be enough."

"Oh no. No no-stop it! Steven, PLEASE! Help her!" Senior screamed, tearing at his face, Steven seeing the new tears of shock and sorrow and horror forming as Steven raced back to Miyuki, licking his lips again and giving her PAK a big, sloppy kiss. But…

Nothing. Not so much as a single twinkle. "M-Maybe if I had the three aura bottles from the cabinet…and if I combined them…" Steven stammered out. "They're medical bottles and they're all in my medicine cabinet at home…"

"Just hold on!" Senior said, clinging tightly to Miyuki's hand, fearing that if he let go even for a moment, she'd be gone as Jayd vanished from sight with Darth, as they raced off to teleport into the Universe house, to get those bottles. Miyuki smiled warmly at him, her eyelids fluttering as she struggled to stay conscious, Steven holding her other hand, and kissing it again and again.

"Please, miss! Please don't die!" Steven begged. "I want to make this right! I HAVE to! I know the Diamonds were horrible to all of you, I want to help! I do!"

"You're very kind, Steven." Miyuki said. "I'll remember that." She added as she took in deep, rasping breaths. "I want all of you to remember that. Don't hurt him, please. He's a good child." She insisted, her breathing becoming harder. It was getting more difficult to stay awake, her eyes closing as she flopped back into the bed, Senior's body shaking as if he was hit by an Earthquake. A minute later, Darth and Jayd popped into the room, holding up three bottles, one blue, one yellow, one white as Jayd poured them into the top of a fourth bottle, then handed it to Steven.

"Hold on, hold on…" Steven got hold of the bottle, and squeezed out tears into it. He shook the bottle around, holding his breath, mixing it up, and then poured it right onto Miyuki's PAK, as the others looked on, their hearts in their throats. Steven took in a deep breath, biting his lip, Senior's mouth slightly open as he clung to his beloved Miyuki's hand…

But…

Nothing.

"It's…not working." Senior whispered as Steven nervously looked from Miyuki's now-still frame to his crestfallen, sunken face.

"It…doesn't always work." He mumbled.

"No. No no no no NO! IT HAS TO WORK!" Senior sobbed, covering his face, his body wracked with new sobs as Steven gently reached out and touched his back.

"I'm…I'm really sorry." Steven offered as Senior took in deep, long, rasping breaths, as if he was fresh from near-drowning, and trying to put air back into his lungs anew as everyone else stayed deathly quiet. Some of the Irkens were quietly weeping, others had faces lined with fury, and others covered their faces, not wanting for anyone to see how they felt. After what seemed to be hours of weeping, Senior took in a final breath, and then turned to look at Senior.

"…you tried to help. I'm…I AM grateful to that." He told him. "You gave us a little more time with her, however borrowed it was." He muttered softly, as he closed his eyes. "…Steven Universe…Pink Diamond…the Irken race thanks you. We're…we're cool."

"…I'm sorry I couldn't do more." Steven offered.

"There's one thing you CAN do." Senior said quietly. "…say you'll let us pound the Diamonds into a fine dust we'll make into mirrors in our memorial museum, which we'll shatter all over again." He added as a dark, furious glint came to his eyes and the other Irkens all nodded, advancing into the room, surrounding Steven.

"…I can't. I'm sorry, but I can't. I get why you're mad. You've got every right to hate them. But I won't let you just kill them. No matter what they did. It's just not right." Steven insisted. "Even if they did horrible things, you can't just murder them."

"…I'll let you return home." Senior intoned. "You can return Mr. Universe to his house, Darth. But if you show up to try and save the Diamonds, we're not going to go easy on you, Steven." He insisted to Steven as he rose up, and then slammed his fist into the wall, panting heavily, gritting his teeth. "If we can't bring back the ones we love…we'll take our pound of flesh out of the Diamonds, cut by cut." He growled.

With that, Darth tapped Steven on the shoulder, and in an instant, all was darkness, as he faded into slumber.

…

…

…

… "WAIT, NO!"

Steven awoke, surrounded on all sides by the Crystal Gems, as he glanced about, eyes bulging. "Where are they?" He asked, his voice filled with panic. "Where's the Irkens?!"

"Who're the Irkens?" Amethyst asked as Steven felt something in his pocket, and rummaged through his pajama pants. Sure enough, there was a little note written down, with space coordinates.

"Look familiar?"

Indeed, the coordinates WERE familiar. They were the coordinates to the Gem Homeworld. So…that's where the Diamonds were. Steven took in a deep breath and then looked up at the Gems just as his dad came into the room, scratching his head.

"Oooogh. What's all the yelling? I was having the most wonderful dream." He remarked softly, before seeing his son's face. Clear concern came over Greg's face as he raced to Steven and knelt down, holding Steven's hands. "Steven, buddy, what happened?" He looked Steven up and down, biting his lip. "Something's wrong. It wasn't a nightmare, was it? Is it gem stuff?"

"It isn't "gem stuff"…" Garnet spoke up as she hesitated. "I couldn't find anything with my Future Vision, but I did wake up first, and I saw that ship that was hovering over town. A ship we gems have NEVER made." She insisted. "It's another alien race, isn't it?" She wanted to know.

"Yeah. They've got the Diamonds. And they're gonna kill them." Steven admitted. "They're gonna kill them on Homeworld because of what they and the Gem race did to their planet. I…I tried to get them to stop, I thought, maybe, if I could talk to them…and then, I thought maybe if I healed their leader, brought her back from Death, maybe we could avoid fighting, but…but it didn't work. Something about Irken bodies keeps me from healing them right." He muttered. "We have to go stop them! Or they'll kill the Diamonds!"

The Crystal Gems looked at each other. For a brief moment, they were hesitant. After all, the Diamonds had done awful, terrible things to THEM as well. Blue Diamond had almost had Garnet shattered when she had first fused as Ruby and Sapphire. The Diamonds had abused Pink Diamond, whom Pearl had so dearly loved. And they'd hurt them over and over, something Amethyst hadn't forgotten. But…

But they were family. And they WERE trying to be better. To fix what they'd broken. And Steven had taught them to try and give people a chance. After all, they'd done it for Peridot, and Lapis, and now they were full on Crystal Gems, and those two had tried to destroy the Earth at one point, and the Gems as well.

"…he's right. We should stop them." Amethyst sighed. "They've been jerks but…they've improved a bunch. We should TRY and help…"

"How soon can we leave?" Pearl asked.

"We'll get Peridot and the others and we'll leave first thing in the morning." Garnet offered as Steven found a smile spreading over his face. "And we'll try and contact Bismuth on Homeworld, see if she can maybe get other gems to try and stall or perhaps even break the Diamonds free if its possible." She added.

"We gotta be careful." Steven admitted. "They figured out how to make gem destabilizers." He confessed. "It won't be easy for us. Especially when they know we're coming. But…they're family. So…"

He smacked his fist into his palm, and nodded.

"So we fight."

#steven universe #invader zim #steven #drama #family #almighty tallest #Tallest Miyuki #Pink Diamond #Rose Quartz #tragedy #fanfiction #fanfic #Blue Diamond #Crystal Gems #Amethyst #Garnet #Pearl #Greg Universe

[boogerboii]

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Black fem reader

✩ Alreck is one of the oldest vampires of his kind and one of the strongest.

✩ There is only one more vampire of his kind and that is his sister Amarande.

✩ Alreck and his sister were turned by a crazed king and queen who took a bunch of children from a small village and performed witchcraft on them to make a strong army only 10 children survived including him and his sister.

✩ Later on after learning how to use their new found power they killed the king and queen and ruled in chaos.

✩ The vampires nowadays have gone through vestigiality. They have lost their strength and speed. They are not as strong as the vampires before in any way.

✩ Alreck has now calmed down since his reign of terror on the world long ago.

✩ He finds human life precious now because his sister always reminds him how they used to be human before it was taken away from them.

✩ He is now quiet and observant. When he talks it’s calculated.

✩ When he first saw you he was calculated on what to say. He had watched you for a week wondering what to say to you but he saw that you noticed him so he said nothing.

✩ You were an observant person too so you saw him at the coffee shop a couple times staring at you.

✩ You were the one to talk to him. He was not surprised just as he was admiring you he heard you turn to your coworker and say that he was a creep.

✩ You walked up to him and asked what his problem was. He replied “I’ve never seen a woman so perfect in all my years. Sorry if I came off as strange.” He tilted his head at you. He seemed genuine.

✩ He then asked you for your time. Which you accepted but at the end of your shift.

✩ Then that was the start of your relationship with Alreck.

✩ Being in a relationship with Alreck is a lot

✩ He thinks a lot but doesn’t say much unless you ask and pick his mind. He’s not used to sharing his feelings to other people besides his sister.

✩ He’s used to being in charge and doing things his own way. So when you're added to the picture he can easily add you to his schedule but he takes control. For example after you two called it official he gave you the option to stop working. You can just say he’s old school.

✩ He loves your hair especially your natural hair. He honestly loves any hairstyle on you and he will buy you all the hair supplies and lace fronts in all colors if you like. He just wants you to be happy.

✩ He loves to buy you little presents for the smallest achievements. Like if you had a knack for crystals he would buy you some to add to your collection.

✩ He is a very clean man. In his early years of being a vampire he didn’t care for many things and thinking back on it, it's embarrassing for him. Not that he was dirty but it didn’t concern him at the time. Now he’s a very groomed man. He smells good and always looks good. There is never really a time you see him in casual clothing but when you do he looks hot in it.

✩ He loves to read when he was a kid his mother would read books to him. Reading is one of the things that brings him comfort when being a vampire. So if you love to read he would ask you to come read to him as he lays his head on your lap.

✩ He loves to spoil his significant other whatever you want it’s yours no matter what it is.

✩Amarande his sister comes around frequently. She scared you at first but now she is the funniest person ever. Her relationship with her brother is so sweet.

✩Alreck is the calm quiet sibling and Amarande is the intimidating sibling but together they look scary.

✩Alreck owns many companies and land. He’s very rich like Jeff Bezos.

✩ He loves to collect cars and before cars became a thing he owned a bunch of horses and owned a ranch.

✩He loves to do things for you even if it’s the most simplest things around the house. He will do anything for you.

✩This man had the body of a god. He has what people call a sleeper build. He’s very tall and brooding. He doesn’t really workout like his sister.

✩The first few year of being a vampire you continue to grow regularly then after that you’re body will stay the same. So his body is the same as it was in early years.

✩He has a black Victorian style house. The interior is a very cozy dark look with a bunch of dim lights. It smells like a very clean cologne.

*This is my first oc if you guys have any recommendations or smut request lmk. Ask me questions about Alreck and help me bring his character more to life. I’ll be doing Amarande next.*

#vampire oc #x black fem reader #black reader #black!reader #fantasy #x oc #my ocs do not steal #x reader #vampire headcanons

[drarrypotterrenaissance]

The Picture of Love

The second I saw this delightful art from @anzukero , a fic popped into my head and demanded to be written. This is fluffy and silly and I hope it's at least half as sweet as the art that inspired it 💜

“Harry’s been a bit cagey, lately, don’t you think?”

Hermione tapped another photo strip with her wand, and slid the conjured duplicates into their respective envelopes.

“Er, maybe a bit,” Ron agreed. “Although,” he added, “we haven’t really seen him much lately. I mean, he was at the rehearsal dinner and at the wedding, but we were all pretty busy then, and we only saw him the week before that when he dropped things off for us. And we’ve just been gone for another week, so maybe we haven’t seen him enough to judge it properly.”

Hermione pursed her lips as she looked at another photo strip. “We had dinner with him last night though, didn’t you think he was acting sort of odd then?”

The muggle photo booth at the wedding had been a great idea, Ron could admit, but as he searched for the envelope with Neville Longbottom written on it he was starting to regret agreeing to duplicate and send out all the pictures with everyone’s thank you notes.

“Odd how?”

“Well, you know,” Hermione glanced up, and handed Ron the correct envelope. “He didn’t say much about what he’s been doing recently.”

“Because he kept asking us about the trip! I reckon Italy was more exciting than London was for him this past week; he wanted to hear about it.”

“Yes, but he kept evading our questions about what he had been doing, too,” Hermione persisted.

“Because he wanted to hear more about our trip! I’m sure he’s fine, ‘Mione, don’t worry.”

Hermione looked put out for a second, and then relented. “Oh, alright. We’ll see him in a bit for lunch anyway, we can see if he’s back to normal then.”

Read more on ao3

Harry was not, it transpired, acting normal. When Ron and Hermione Apparated to the steps of 12 Grimmauld Place, they had to knock twice before Harry answered. After hanging up their cloaks and exchanging hugs and slaps on the back, Hermione fixed Harry with an appraising eye.

“Are you alright, Harry?”

Harry’s eyes grew wide behind his glasses, and he pushed a hand through his unruly hair, doing little to flatten it.

“I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just seem a bit distracted, is all,” Hermione said. “Did you forget that we were coming by today?”

“What? No! I’m fine, I didn’t forget,” Harry protested, leading them into the living room and glancing all around. “I just lost track of time, sorry. Er, shall we eat?”

But before they could head down into the kitchen, a sharp crack rent the air. Ron reacted first, his Auror’s instincts taking over.

“Did someone just Apparate into your house?” he asked, pulling out his wand and pushing in front of Harry and Hermione. “That sounded like it came from upstairs.”

“No, it must be someone at the front door,” Harry said quickly, while Hermione narrowed her eyes.

A moment later, the doorbell rang, and Harry practically sprinted from the room.

“See! Just someone at the door!” he called back as he reached the entry hall. Ron and Hermione exchanged a look before following him, arriving in time to see Harry opening the door for Draco Malfoy.

“Draco!” Hermione cried, coming over to join the boys in the hall, “It’s so good to see you!”

“It’s good to see you as well,” Draco said, accepting her hug. “I trust the honeymoon was enjoyable? Potter said you took a day trip to Pompeii, I would love to hear about it.”

Hermione lit up at once. “Oh, it was wonderful! We were able to book a magical tour guide, and he told us the most fascinating things about how the preservation charms on the magical houses reacted to the ash fall, and how they’ve been modifying those charms today to continue the magical maintenance of the site!”

Ron grinned down at his wife, sliding an arm around her waist. “He hasn’t even taken his cloak off yet Hermione, give him a chance to breathe.” Then, turning to Draco he said, “Why don’t you join us for lunch - Harry always cooks enough to feed a small army anyway, and we can tell you all about the trip.”

“What do you say, Potter?” Draco smirked. “Can I join you all for lunch?”

Harry just flushed pink and nodded, before heading back down to the kitchen once more.

The rest of lunch was even stranger. Harry kept dropping things, and his cheeks grew steadily redder until Hermione checked to see if he was running a fever. Draco seemed to be silently laughing at him the entire time, although neither Ron nor Hermione could figure out what the joke was. Harry seemed anxious and on edge, and continued evading all questions about his own life. Finally, in what seemed to be an attempt at salvaging the afternoon, Draco brought the conversation back around to the wedding.

“I meant to tell you on the day, but I never got the chance to - the venue you chose was lovely.”

“Thank you!” Hermione turned to smile at Ron. “Ron was actually the one who found it, he spent an entire day visiting all the venues I had researched, and then heard someone mention one other place he might like, and he knew at once it would be perfect for us.”

“I wouldn’t have credited you with such good taste, Weasley,” Draco said, grinning good-naturedly. “Did you choose the caterers too?”

“Of course! But the photo booth was all Hermione’s idea; did you get a chance to test it out?”

“We’ve spent all morning sorting through the pictures to send them out to everyone, but we haven’t made it through the pile yet,” Hermione added.

Draco went very still, and Harry, who had just taken a sip of his water, inhaled sharply and began to choke and splutter. As if moving through a trance, Draco turned absently and hit him on the back.

“You’re looking through everyone’s pictures?” Harry asked, wheezing slightly.

“Of course! We’re duplicating each photo strip to send out with thank you notes for everyone, and we’re keeping a copy for ourselves as well.”

Harry and Draco exchanged a look that Hermione couldn’t parse.

“Do you, er, do you need any help with that?” Harry asked.

“We would be more than happy to lend a hand!” Draco added, a little too brightly.

Hermione looked at Ron, and then back at the boys. “No thanks, we’re alright. It’s been a lot of fun, actually, seeing everyone all dressed up again.”

“And we’re getting all the good gossip too!” Ron interjected, leaning in. “You’ll never guess who Anthony was kissing in his pictures!”

“I don’t think that’s appropriate,” Draco said in cold, clipped tones, at the same time as Harry said, “I don’t think anyone realized you would be looking through their pictures, don’t spread things like that around!”

“What?” Ron laughed, as though someone in the room had missed a joke. “It’s their own fault for snogging in a photo booth at our wedding!”

“Maybe,” Draco said, in a voice so prim it seemed almost painful, “they hadn’t realized it wasn’t a private space, and they wouldn’t want to be embarrassed by you.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows at Ron, but Harry interrupted their silent conversation with a worried question of his own.

“Would, um, Anthony be embarrassed?”

Draco turned to him so quickly Ron thought he could hear his neck crack.

“No! There’s nothing wrong with kissing,” he paused, “someone, but he may not want people to know.”

“Why wouldn’t he want people to know, if there’s ‘nothing wrong with kissing someone’?” Harry spat back.

“Maybe he’s just not ready to tell people!” Draco yelled.

“Why wouldn’t he be?”

“Maybe he’s scared that people won’t like him dating… the person who he's dating!”

“That’s stupid! He's obviously head over heels for him!"

Harry’s face was flushed, and Draco had angry pink slashes of color appearing on his cheekbones. Ron looked at Hermione in panic, and she stared right back with wide eyes.

“'He's obviously head over heels for him? How on earth is he supposed to know that?" Draco huffed, and stormed over to the sink where he began washing the dishes with more force than was strictly necessary. Harry stared after him for a moment, his entire body seeming to deflate, and then he muttered, “Maybe he's been doing his best to show him, but doesn't know how to prove that he doesn't care what other people think,” and turned back around to Ron and Hermione.

There was a beat of silence where Draco went completely still while the water splashed into the sink before Hermione spoke.

“Thanks for lunch, Harry. It was really nice seeing you, and you too, Draco.” She and Ron began heading for the door.

“We’ll, uh, see you around, yeah mate?” Ron tried, but Harry only nodded and waved half-heartedly before closing the front door.

“See?” Hermione said, the second they landed in their living room. “Harry’s acting odd!”

“Yeah,” Ron agreed, shaking his head. “I had no idea he would get so upset about Anthony. And Draco too, for that matter, they hardly know each other!”

“Do you think we should ask Anthony about it? I mean, maybe he knows why Harry’s been so cagey lately. Do you think they saw much of each other while we were gone?”

Hermione sat down next to Ron as she spoke, picking up her half of the photo pile to begin sorting again. When Ron didn’t respond, she looked over at him. He had gone deathly pale.

“Ron? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think it’s Anthony that Harry’s been spending his free time with,” he croaked.

“What? Why do you say that?” Hermione asked.

In response, Ron slid her the photo strip he had been holding.

There, in three pastel-toned pictures, Hermione watched as Harry grinned at the camera with his arm slung around a smiling Draco, then turned to look at him, both of their expressions going soft and gentle, before the Harry in the third picture leaned in to kiss the clearly besotted Draco beside him.

“Ohhh,” Hermione said, “It all makes so much sense!”

#my fic #drarry #drarry fic #the picture of love

[urimaginespimp]

Winter’s Time - Prologue

Author’s Note: Hi! It's been almost a year since I posted a new fic. A lot has happened in my life and I honestly lost inspiration to write for months until recently. Lately I have been watching HBO’s The Time Traveler’s Wife, and despite the mix reviews about, I genuinely like it and am hooked. This fic will be inspired by it (not entirely a copycat, just that it involves time travel and meeting your soulmate), and will be multi-chaptered.

Blurb: After 60 blissful years of marriage with the love of his life, time hit Bucky with a hard slap. His wife took her last breath peacefully on their shared bed, while he’s stuck still slowly aging. That is, until an old friend from Wakanda offers him an opportunity to visit her from different timelines of their relationship.

--------

Prologue:

It’s been six months since he had to wake up every morning to an empty bed. Six months since he could only hear your voice in his head and through recordings, and feel like your presence is real in his dreams. Willing himself to get up, he begrudgingly went to the bathroom for a shower.

James Buchanan Barnes did not have an easy life. Ever since he fell from that train, he hasn’t stopped fighting. Fighting under the command of others, fighting to be free, and fighting for what’s moral in his books. But perhaps the most worthwhile one he’s been in was when he was fighting for you.

He got a taste of the closest thing to normal the world could offer someone like him when he met you. And while those sixty years were when he was the happiest, what now? Where does a man in his 160s but looks to be in his 40s go from here?

You’ve always joked about how you starting to look much older than him would cause him to just leave you in a retirement home, but he’d chuckle and place a kiss on your temple, whispering assurances in your ears. Because aside from him being a proper gentleman and a wonderful husband, he swore his soul is forever tied to yours.

The first two months since your funeral, he’s shut himself alone in your shared home. Friends tried to reach out but respected his time to grieve properly. He’s spent it around the house, reading your favorite books and wondering how certain chapters would’ve made you feel, looking through pictures and knickknacks you had around the house that were taken home from every travel, and just letting himself cry when it got too much.

Stepping out of the shower, even the simple task of choosing an outfit to wear reminds him of how you loved mixing and matching his clothes for him. With a heavy sigh, he chose a simple dark shirt and jacket, along with dark pants. Today he was going to see Shuri at Wakanda per her request. She’s paid her respects to you during the funeral, and he’s taking her invitation for a visit to Wakanda as her way to check up on him.

Greeting familiar faces on his way to the princess’ lab, when the doors finally opened, he was taken back by the strange platform in the middle of the room. Shuri, sensing his presence, turns around and greets him. The

“Ah! It’s so good to see you, White Wolf.” She takes a long look at him which reminds him of how his own mother then would check up on him. “Though I’d be lying if I say that you look good. But I understand. Come look.” She gestures for him to come closer to show him what she’s working on.

Approaching her and the tablet she’s holding, he sees that the screen shows a bunch of numbers and some other new features he couldn’t wrap his head around.

“What are you working on?” He finally asked.

“Has anyone told you about the Pym Particles?” she asked, taking slow steps around the platform device in front of him.

“Yeah. I heard they were used by the avengers who didn’t get snapped to time travel and collect the stones. Why?” at this point, he was skeptical of what could come out next of his friend's mouth.

“That’s correct.” she nods. “The Pym particles allowed them to shrink to subatomic size and enter the Quantum Realm. I’m so glad you're saving me the time from explaining a lot.” she grins at him.

She pauses from walking in circles and finally faces him again. “This machine right here is similar to the one they used to travel through time. Only that its smaller, and well... looks a lot better.” She beams smugly and walks over to the nearest table. “And I’ll save you the science talk about how this works, but essentially, Pym Particles are no need for this baby. All you need...” she walks over to a safe and opens it, revealing a small syringe.

Bucky steps back. “Woah, woah, woah. What is that for?”

Shuri smiles at him apologetically. "I'm sorry, I should’ve explained more. How do I simplify this...” She pauses for a second. “Have you seen the movie ‘In Time?’”

“Yeah.” He answers quietly, recalling how you made him watch it once during a date night at home.

“Well, it's quite similar but also a whole lot different from that. You see, once I inject this to a host, you would be able to control which timeline you’d like to visit, right on your forearm” she explains.

“Okay, so what does anything of this have to do with me?” He had a hunch, knowing her all these years have made him predict her better.

She looks at him sheepishly before continuing. “It’s not quite perfect yet. And I wanted to ask if you’d like to do tests?’

“No.” he scowls and turns around ready to leave the lab, and Wakanda itself when she called out to him again.

“You can visit your wife, White Wolf!” He stops in his tracks. Still not turning to face her again, she continues. “Any timeline from her past, even the ones where you haven’t met yet.”

“I wish I met you earlier.” you’d tell him occasionally, the admiration and love heavy in your eyes. All for him.

Finally facing Shuri again, he takes a long look at the machine, and the syringe she’s still holding. The last six months without you have been awful. And it’s like the universe heard his cries and decided he’s suffered for too long in his life.

“What are the risks?”

-----

I’m a little rusty on writing here lol. Let me know what you think!

                                                                                                                  PART 1

#bucky #Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #MCU fanfiction #the winter soldier #the winter solider imagine #the white wolf #Wakanda #Shuri #mcu au #Steve Rogers

[dujour13]

Yep. I’m back! A4 for Siavash and Woljif.

A4 "Please, don't leave me now. Not when I need you the most."

Prompts here!

I can’t believe I was stumped on this one for two days. It was so in my face I couldn’t see it?

“What?” Siavash stared at Anevia, in equal parts relieved and stricken. It was impossible not to take it personally. After helping him with the Thieflings, after all their conversations in the command tent, the adorable schemes, the small kindnesses…?

Though he couldn’t say he hadn’t been warned. Five different gangs, and each time one went belly-up, guess who came out smelling of roses. At the sound of a distant scream, he glanced up wide-eyed. Some of the tents were on fire. How—gargoyle arsonists? Gods, what next? A few weeks in, the Fifth Crusade was going belly-up already. History books spoke scathingly of the last three, but this would go down in infamy. He should have hightailed it himself.

“He was headed toward the river.”

“Send a couple of scouts.”

“Respectfully, Commander, no.”

The Respectfully, Commander stung like a slap in the face.

He was in so far over his head he pictured strange sea creatures staring at him accusingly. This was a bit beyond letting his dad down. The shame and guilt made his ears ring. But surely the Queen shared some of the blame for putting someone so lamentably unprepared in this position. He recalled with physical pain his sure, sounds like fun attitude when the Queen raised the idea, not to mention his shock at the realization that she was serious.

So many lives lost. Or worse—carried away to Nulkineth’s nefarious purpose. Dear, steadfast Irabeth. That fresh-faced young priest from Carpenden, Sosiel. Ember, the beggar from Kenabres he had taken under his wing (or was it she who had taken him under her wing, he wondered), that insufferable Arendae. Even the Hellknight Paralictor. Well, that was one gargoyle he didn’t envy.

With everything crashing down around his ears, why was he so worried about one shady tiefling?

Anevia was watching him with narrowed eyes. He had the impression she could read every emotion as it passed through him: guilt, despair, panic… What was next?

The last resort. The only thing he knew how to do.

The radiant smile. “It’ll be fine,” he said, grasping her shoulder.

He turned to Seelah and Lann. “Help gather the survivors. We abandon the camp and march on the Lost Chapel tonight.”

When he looked back—though she was still livid with grief—some light had come back into Anevia’s eyes.

Desna, thank you, at least I can pretend well enough.

At the routed mob of Crusaders gathered around the command tent he raised his most inspirational stage voice: “Hold your positions! Steel yourselves! Are you Crusaders or cowards?”

That would have been the moment to share a sly glance with someone in on the joke, but nothing but grim faces surrounded him. Was one friend too much to ask?

Almost as if she sensed it, Seelah clapped him on the back. “That’s the attitude. They’ll be sorry they ever came here.”

#thanks for the ask!! #pathfinder: wrath of the righteous #commander siavash #my writing #this one ended up being SO fun

[cavalierious-whim]

She Hit Me With Words, Not Punches, But I Punched Back

CW: Content Warning: Mentions of alcoholism, health, and death

This can also be found posted on my blog, here.

I was born to a brilliant woman who found the end of her life in a bottle, and a family who did nothing to stop it.

She was an artist from the womb, I’m pretty sure. My grandmother would tell stories about her drawing pictures in her food which I know are nonsense, but enjoyed nonetheless. My mother was a creator, an artist with both her hands and mind, be it fingers curled around paint-stained brushes, or on the keyboard of a personal computer, laptop, phone—the devices changed over the decades, but the words always flowed.

My mother never became the artist that she wanted, she had children instead, conditioned by purity culture that this is what Good Wives(™) are to do. And it wasn’t that she didn’t want kids—she did—but she didn’t expect a child the first year of her marriage, or to find herself having to pick between Homemaker and Artmaker quite so immediately. 

The choice in the end is obvious. Instead of painting canvases and word documents with her thoughts, she collected them for others in a frame shop instead, working until her fingers were cracked and bleeding, living vicariously through those who did find the will to pen their dreams.

I was born seven years after my brother, and she was tired of many things. I didn’t know this, of course, not until she passed when I found an old half-empty journal that she started and lost the will to keep. It was a neat glimpse into her head and only confirmed the many things that I already knew about her.

(One of my Mother's paintings, circa earliy 1980's.)

By this time, the arthritis set in and she no longer painted pictures, but stories instead. She wrote—she always did, one of those pioneer women in the gilded Star Trek age that paved the way for fandom as we know it. But she had The Book, a testament to this grand story that she wanted to share which tackled God, the secrets of the universe, woven together in an epic fantasy.

She never finished The Book. 

I’ve only seen bits and pieces over the years, short blurbs and hastily scribbled notes. I couldn’t tell you the plot, only very specific things that she used to share with me. It was a fantasy, an allegory for the complexity of God, and how he mingles (or doesn’t) with those whom he created. 

There is an irony to her religiosity; she did not fear God, but rather met him face-to-face, demanding answers to the universe. Science-led and read, she’d often wonder why God made ‘such terrible decisions’ but still maintained that faith until she died. 

My sister came three years after me, and then one more, unexpected, when my mother was forty-two, and now we were a brood of four that constantly reminded her of her failures.

My mother used to tell me that she both wanted and did not want children. She wanted to have her tubes tied after me but in Standard American Faire she was immediately denied because as women we are expected to be broodmares. It’s a strange thought. I love my sisters but I wonder what would be different if my mother hadn’t been denied because having four children in total is what caused that deep, deep spiral toward the bottom, not the top.

It is strangely easy to overlook a problem if you are not looking for it. It is stranger yet, to know there is a problem, yet feel normal about doing nothing to mitigate it. 

When I was young, I never questioned the slurred words, or the bad driving and car accidents, or the agitated behavior slung in our direction. It was normal to be two hours late to things, or for my mother to forget to pick us up from school functions. 

I was sixteen when reality slapped me. It was before school. I was sitting in our Ford Excursion and my mother placed her coffee in the holder and said, “Wait I forgot something”. Not unusual. What was unusual was that her coffee wasn’t coffee, but whiskey. I’d taken a sip only to be rudely awakened by fire burning down my throat. 

And yet, I didn’t ask. I didn’t push. I said nothing even though it was not yet eight in the morning, and my mother already had a sideways gait about her.

My father tried. He worked hard and traveled a lot, and suddenly, that hallowed-out and sad expression he’d have at home made a lot more sense. Our family knew and no one spoke. I didn’t either, even though it got worse. 

She would hit me with words, not fists, but I always punched back, conditioned to defend myself even though I was often a problem. I was a good kid, but not great. I had many faults, and both my best and worst qualities come straight from my mother. 

Creativity and passionate drive; an argumentative nature. A desire to explore and study; the need to prove myself right. 

I was a senior in highschool when my oldest younger sister was a freshman. We called our mother to pick us up after an event and she said she’d be there, only to pass out in her armchair in a booze-induced haze instead. Our teacher stood there with us and waited. She knew us and knew our mother well, and was not surprised. She waited for two hours before she filed us into her car and drove us to our house. 

That night, I was given this teacher’s self phone number, and yet—

Nothing was said. 

Now, I love my mother. Deeply. I have never hated her, but anger and bitterness still bleed through my veins, and likely always will. My mother was good and bad to us, but the good days are the ones that I cling to because they are just that bright. Years of anime conventions and cosplay, of paying for my weird hobbies, of talking shop about writing and books, of binging tv shows and laughing hard enough that my father would come out of the bedroom to give us The Look.

Friends would think the stories exaggerated—even my best friend, until she saw my mother one night scream that I was ‘selfish and inhuman’. After that, sleepovers were at her house, and she had no trouble finding excuses to have daytrips hours away, at her expense of gas.  

Even my husband—when we were still fresh-faced and dating, and we visited my family for the first Christmas after I moved out, I warned him. “My mother and I fight,” I had said, “and I don’t mean silly arguments, I mean with teeth bared.” He laughed it off until my mother and I duked it out over a breakfast casserole in the kitchen on Christmas morning, as the rest of the family sat near the fire in the next room.

My crime? Doing what she’d asked me to do but her drunk-addled brain didn’t remember the request, which made it my fault. And my husband sat there on the couch, wide-eyed and reconsidering a future with me as the rest of the family just ignored it, going on about their chatter with everyone else. 

The thing that we all had learned was there is no fixing an alcoholic. You can ask them to stop but you cannot make them, nor expect them to start that change, especially when addiction is a disease that rewires your entire being. And so, we all said nothing, we just went with the flow, and we all took those punches because we thought we couldn’t do anything else.

Those punches were blaming us kids for ruining her career, her life, whatever semblance of happiness she could have possibly had. These were the things she’d say to us. I’d roll my eyes and yell back because I knew that it was only one-part true, most-parts the booze, and I’d rather love my mother than hate her, even if I was constantly getting stuck on her thorns. And, of course, the good bits were good, you know?

My mother quit drinking after an emergent trip to the hospital when they drained two liters of fluid from her body and diagnosed her with acute liver failure. I didn’t live back home at the time, I was off with my husband and making a name for myself (I wish). 

She, astoundingly, quit cold turkey, and I’m fairly certain that she never had a drink again. For all the things she did wrong, she did right by doing her biweekly bloodwork at the labs, and she never clocked in with alcohol in her veins that I’m aware of. 

My mother did not go to AA—she found it depressing. She did go to her liver clinic meetings, and her blood work, and she learned to cope with a shopping addiction, candy, and of course— The Book. The years of her recovery were still embittered, a battle of wills, both her and the family as everyone tried to adjust to a cantankerous, sober woman.

We learned that her personality was just that—her personality. As it turns out, she was always the way she was, combative and snarky, prone to argumentation. This is both warm in remembrance, but hot with annoyance. It’s harder to excuse this sort of behavior when there is nothing to blame.

She was sick, fevers and chills, other bodily issues that aren’t worth mentioning. “It’s just part of it,” she’d say, and it’d make sense because she was down a liver, and staring at the end of a transplant list because her rare blood type was fucking her in the end. 

My mother did not die of COVID, she went into septic shock after a preventable infection spread. My sister found her on the floor of their home, unresponsive. My father told me I didn’t need to come down because he is, in the best and worst way, an eternal optimist. My mother was moved to hospice that night and died while I was in the air, flying down at the last minute. 

He will always blame himself for not getting me there sooner. My brother was the one who called me on my layover in Colorado, and I remember sitting in the Denver airport crying the ugliest tears I’ve ever had while I listened to him say, “I’m glad you weren’t here. Of all the people in this family, you were the one who shouldn’t have been.”

And he’s right; my mother beat on everyone, but I was the largest target because looking at me was like looking into the mirror. I was good at my craft, I was a successful cosplayer, I had no children and a loving partner; I had the sort of happiness my mother strove for and never quite got. Even before all that, when I was a teenager, her bitterness was shaped by the fact that we were just too damn alike, and that’s where my anger came from too. Arguing with my mother was always like arguing with myself, and even now, I fear every day that I will become her.

If I’d been there in that room I’d have only yelled at her, terrible, nasty things that I never got to get off my chest, and she wouldn’t have been able to even speak for them. So yes, it’s a good thing I wasn’t there. My father doesn’t know this, but making me wait was a blessing. 

There was a nice lady at that airport who hugged me and bought me dinner, and we didn’t even exchange names which she didn’t question. She sat in that airport and held my hand, and on my flight too, because we were on the same leg, it seemed. 

It took a month to get things sorted out—just the basic things like cremation and stuff. With COVID in full swing, dealing with death was an absolute nightmare. 

My mother was a hoarder—the clean type, everything in plastic boxes, tucked away into spare bedrooms. I looked at grief in the face with anger, becoming very agitated. My brother was quiet; my sisters just cried. My father decided to go through all of my mother’s shit and toss most of it because he’s always been an out-of-sight, out-of-mind kind of man. 

This was the worst thing, going through it all. Forty years of random crap piled together. Boxes of papers, bills, old presents, things we’d thought gone missing. One box where the ashes of our family dogs had been tossed into and forgotten about. Another box full of dirty dishes because my mother was too tired to do them and told herself she would later. 

Hospital notices and letters from the liver clinic begging for her to come in—which we didn’t know. You see, my mother told us that they weren’t taking appointments, that they’d paused everything during the Pandemic. Instead, she’d willfully ignored them. She did her blood work but nothing else. 

Discharge notices saying to immediately go in if she spiked a fever. I sat there with these papers and thought back to the last few years, every utterance from her mouth that Fevers were just part of it. Prescription bottles filled but never taken, other medications she’d chosen to forgo.

I do not know what my mother wanted in the last few years of her life but it became clear as day that she was exhausted. It wasn’t forgetfulness, she just began to approach life with the mindset that she’d be gone anyway, so why bother? This is why I was angry—why I’m still angry, while I will always be angry because I was robbed of the satisfaction of patching our holes because she chose to not live.

I have since calmed down. I think of my mother with mostly fond memories and when I think of the worse ones, I hold them close to my breast because they remind me of that which I do not want to be like.

It was never a question of whether or not she was proud of us, of me; she was too proud of us, hopelessly supportive in our endeavors. I think she saw her own missed opportunities in us and even though jealous, instilled the importance of doing what you’re passionate about.

She used to buy the fanzines that I was in. She loved that I wrote fanfiction, and it didn’t matter the media, or the ship, smut or not, monsterfucking—she read it all with glee. After she died, I drowned myself in writing because it was a reprieve that both connected me to her, but also distracted me from that pain.

Now, I find comfort as my fingers fly over the keyboard. There is peace when I finish a story, and fondness when I read through something to edit.

There is a box that we found when going through her things. At first, it was just piles of papers and binders, but as I dug through and sifted, it turned out to be The Book. Every note, ever half-written chapter, every good and bad idea that she never quite penned down. It was piled into this box and shoved into the computer room closet. 

She never finished The Book, but writing brought her a joy that she didn’t find anywhere else. It was just her and her thoughts, her words, sharing her dreams and passions in fancy words and phrases. She might have lacked joy in other places, but at least when writing, she found happiness that kept her moving forward. 

When I quit writing in my early twenties it was because I was burned out and unhappy with my work, pressured by an illusion that maybe this can be a job. It brought me no joy, I would just stare at the computer screen and feel empty inside, and I would try to argue with my mother about it. She’d just shake her head and said I’d get it one day, and it was a rare fight we would have that she would never give into. 

I couldn’t bring the box with me, but I did bring The Book home, a massive D-Ring Binder full of barely legible nonsense, a parody of a book that I still haven’t been able to make sense of. But, reading through her words, you can feel the solace she found when weaving together this story. 

I am now in my thirties and I’m angry that she was right, that one day I would understand. I am not unhappy; I love my life, my friends, my husband, but I have found a joy in spinning tales that I cannot find anywhere else. There is something to be said about writing romance, or old people in love, or the gratuitous smut that might make others blush; these are the things that I write for myself to make myself feel better. 

Because I get both my best and worst qualities from her, I am conditioned to be admittedly argumentative and annoying in my need to be correct. But, in the same vein, I’ve also learned to hit people with words, not fists as I’ve grown older, an invaluable lesson forged in the flames of an alcoholic mother and a love for writing. 

People are complex. Diseases are complex. Alcoholism is this sort of beast that you cannot fight back against. You can beat at it but you will not win, and even when you think you have, it still looms over your back with lurking presence. Even when sober, my mother struggled. When going through her things, we found bottle after bottle tucked away—never opened, still sealed, but there nonetheless.

I will always love my mother and be forever angry with her, and I still maintain that punching back through the years was the right thing to do. It instilled a stubbornness within me that fuels my every fiber. I burn with that same passion for the hobby that I love.

My mother did not love herself, and it was born from this societal pressure of being a good, godly wife, making babies, and submitting to your husband. We miffed because I subverted all of those tropes, and as I got older, the bitterness eased into supportive respect because if she couldn’t be happy, at least her kids could.

I often stare at The Book. It sits in a cardboard box underneath my desk, and when I look at it, I remind myself to do better. I feel the joy of her work and the effort put into it, despite likely knowing that none others would ever see. It is not easy to love myself but if there’s one thing her death has taught me, it’s that I should, unapologetically do so, whilst being self-indulgent in my wants and needs.T

Nowadays, the punches that I now pull are put into words, and I like to think that if my Mom were still here, she’d hold The Book and find pride in the fact I have the happiness that she never got.

#Grief #Mothers #Learning to Cope #Self-Love

[saltyxtides]

BAYDEN WARDEYN.  

Bayden rolled his eyes. He was clearly a movie watcher. He didn’t read all the damn comics. That was a big not. Movies were free on the tv. Comics cost money he did not have to spend on the inside of the asylum. Such was his life. He was at a disadvantage there.

He laughed when she said he said more than her liking. “Yeah well, I never promised to stay in your comfort zone, did I? No I did not.”

And no, no Bayden did not try to annoy the nurse too much despite his own annoyance with the situation. He literally just got his privileges back. He wasn’t in the business right then for getting them taken again, not over shoe strings.

“String you down? Double A. You forget yourself and how dirty minded I am. You are not doing anything good for my visuals. You should stop whole you’re ahead.”

Her usual.

“Like I ever see you eat. I wouldn’t know what that is. OH! I may not be able to leave yet, but you know what we could do? I think can find my way back to my own house thanks. I got this. I don’t think either of us need a guide after all these years for fucks sake. These people dude.” He shook his head about the whole thing. He understood if they were new patients but come the fuck on. They’d been there for years. He guessed that’s why the nurse eventually came to her senses and just let them go.

This chick. All she ever annoyed him about the last time they argued was going out for the coffee he owed her but he lost his off property privileges. He was like hello community room free, gross, lukewarm, pot. In the middle of everything she just kept bringing it up. He couldn’t believe it kept popping out of her mouth. So, he was going to try and make some peace by fulfilling his promise somehow unless she was still going to hold out for privileges he may never get back again. He was a murderer who also had an escape on his record now. The likelihood of that was pretty damn nil. But, his mother had pulled off a lot in past. Pigs could fly and wouldn’t shock Bayden if someone said his mother made happen.

“You know I can’t take you out for that coffee but I am pretty sure there are places that deliver. Can’t promise it will get here hot but we do have microwaves. I know how to push the buttons and everything.”

The walk back to Asylum Acres behind Briarcliff Manor was actually a liberating feeling even if his heels kept slipping in the backs of his boots from lack of laces and even if they got a few stares on the way out due to Rowan’s lack of pants.

He looked over at her and grinned as they passed through the gates. He couldn’t help himself after all this time. Celestis of people had to know how much it sucked being in the hospital.

Then there they were, all the little pastel cottages, flowers, and picture perfect happiness, like a postcard. It used to be enough to make him want to puke. After having it stripped away and reminded life could be worse that puke-worthy cookie cutter image of perfect full of mental cases like him really was perfect to him. He looked at his house and then he looked at his neighbor’s house still there across the way. Rowan’s house. Now Celestis’s house. Inviting her in was a never done before, at least not really on purpose. But, now he already had.

So, up to his door he went, unlocked it, and there was his place completely empty like he never lived there. They’d cleaned it out. He saw his pile of sketch books were gone. His heart sunk. He never put a lot personality on the walls of the home to begin with. His sketch books were the only things around that made it looked like anyone lived there at all.

“Guess they really were just waiting to give this place to somebody else. Nobody thought I was coming back.”

He wondered which asshole staff did it because his mother built this place just for him. He knew it now. It twisted a knot in his stomach to consider her being the one to order the clean up. No. Some asshole did it. Right?

“More like hoping I wasn’t. Well, fuck ‘em, right?”

Guess he was starting over from scratch. He could do that. What more could they do to him? Fuck ‘em all. He was back. Bayden Warden was back.

       TO be fair she didn’t read them either, as she was way to poor for that as well, but g o o g l e && fandom nerd pages have just enough info to build from to keep herself in the loop.  However, that was the difference between the two of them.  She was a lot more curious about things, && where they lead.

       She looked almost annoyed at him.  The usual way her lips pressed together tight, her facial features nearly void of most expression.  “Apparently so.”  Dropping it for now.  Noticing a couple times the way Bayden looked or talked to her changed a little.  Either that was a sign of growth between the two, or something she wasn’t quite sure.

       Parts of her did feel it was her fault Bayden was there where he was in the first place.  It would have been different if she took that night a lot more series.  So she understood why, but still, it was so worth the bad-puns.  Huffing a bit drastically “if I have to work on my p u n s, YOU have to work on that d i r t y m i n d of yours!”  

       Nearly humored by Bayden she couldn’t help but agree.  “I wouldn’t even know what that is either if I’m being honest.”  Not really sure herself anymore.  It was by all means her fault putting Rowan’s body what she did, but what Celestis has learned was recovering from turning herself into an anorexic was hard.  Hopefully, by the time she finds her body, she’ll return Rowan’s fully recovered but that’s only if she ever succeeds.  As she didn’t want to get stuck in her own head about never returning to her own body.

       She almost wanted to tease Bayden, if he ever got lost he could just use google maps.  But sensing the heat from where she stood, she didn’t say it.  “It’s just protocol Bayden.  It’s just like she said before..”  Understanding the issue both ways, but in the end there’s not much they could do about it.  Shrugging it off as they got to walk without an escort back.  Perhaps in some way, if Celestis wasn’t in the room lil-Miss Nutrix might have not even bothered with shoe-strings, && guides.  It might have only been because she was with Bayden that she took it to that level.  

       The only other option was that his mother actually ordered it, or Janet did.  If Janet wanted the upper hand in Bayden’s favoritism, all she would have to do is target the weaker Nurses.  It get’s a bit muddy when someone had the upper hand on someone else.  In theory anyway.  Celestis didn’t really think Janet was actually going about finding faults && dirt on other Nurses just to target them when they happen to be assigned to Bayden making them push his buttons on purpose.  Making her the crowned numero-uno.  That would be CRAZY.

       Forgetting how comfortable && cool it felt being bare-less along her legs as she walked side by side.  It was always her being so cautious && careful that she forgot what it felt like.  Giving those who stared at her the middle-finger along the way.  That was really out of the blue.  Wondering where all that came from all of a sudden.  Looking up as the clouds looked even more greyer then they were the last time she was outside as she wondered if that triggered the coffee conversation.

       “Eh.  Don't FRET o v e r it anymore Bayden.”  She seemed to vocally && express herself nonchalantly.  “The truth’s already out between us anyway right?”  It’s not like she could go back && change what had happened back then.  She exhaled rather loudly  “It was just me wanting to hang out with you && tell you the truth outside the Asylum properly.”  It really never was about the COFFEE.  She just became f l u s t e r e d for a while, more at herself then at Bayden.  It was her fault for lowering her guard that night anyway && not preparing better incase of the truth came out accidently.  It all happened to fast.  “You deserved better.”  

       Shrugging a bit, it’s all done for as she wouldn’t have brought it up again.  Not sure why he had.  She had the time to think about it for a while, since they stopped talking briefly.  Celestis honestly didn’t know any other way to explain it rather then that.  It was all to messy, && she held onto her own anger && frustration.  Projecting it.  && she knew it, sort of, after really thinking about it.

       Celestis felt a small tug of a smile, as Bayden looked over her && grinned.  She can’t deny the sense of relief not having to live behind locked doors again.  Depending on the program level if there were camera’s or no camera’s.  Constantly using an intercom.  Marched to a beat of there insane schedules, && there impossible many rules, along with neglect time to time.  Being in a cookie cutter puke-worthy cottage meant she never had to live with her doors locked, && yea that’s dangerous, but she rather take that risk, then live constantly LOCKED i n like she had been since she’s been in Rowan’s body.

       It was strange.  They always invaded one or the other’s space, as she’s undone his lock, broken into his cottage multiple times, to do something she shouldn’t do, like vandalize his space with artwork since he didn’t really do it himself, while her door was just always unlocked making it easy to invade her space at anytime.  However being invited?  That was new.

       Hopefully it doesn’t become a thing.  It would just be down right awkward.  Closing the door behind her softly, as she’d lean into the door.  She found herself gazing into the newly covered painted walls, the echo of emptiness surrounding them.  The same structure, as it’s old scars where covered.as she took it all in.  Same old same old build just like the one she lived in as she ran her hand up the doorframe slowly.  The little framework of art dedicated to Janus was gone around it’s frame.

        “Maybe.  RUMOR has it the neighbor's quite a m e g a - b i t c h.  Who breaks into locked cottages, especially the one to the left.  It would be hard to find someone who can tolerate that.”  Celestis knew for a while that his place was cleaned out && gutted.  She had witnessed it after coming back from a run.  With them not talking. . .well she kept that info to herself it wouldn’t have helped either of them.  

       Unfortunately his MEGA-b i t c h of a neighbor couldn’t save everything of his either.  Having help.  Being lucky that Princeton was in a good mood, as Garrison only would budge if she owed him a favor.  Between the three of them, she was able to at least recover what she could without it being too big of a deal.  Inconspicuous as possible when they weren’t paying attention when they were cleaning && re-painting inside the house..

       “Well isn’t that the usual Princess Trope, you’re highness?”  His princess struggle was so very real as of right now.  With the Evil Queen just up && sent her minions to do the dirty clean up, as it was up to a very MEGA-g r u m p y Huntsman?  To gather up a band of idiots to help aid the distressed && upset Princess in question?  

       “Princess jokes aside, don’t be to upset, not everything was lost in the minion sweep up.  That MEGA-b i t c h of a neighbor of yours is peculiar && even useful sometimes!”  Hopefully lightening the mood just a little to ease the pain he must be going through.  She knows it can’t fix or change how he was feeling right now.  It was a lot to take in, but she hoped the hinting that there was something good to look forward to even if this all felt like a set back was still there.  His stuff that she did save would all be on his porch by early morning tomorrow, since she won’t be making that morning run since she didn’t have any shoes.

#bayden wardeyn #━━ ✧ spilled ink. | interactions #montywonmom #━━ 🌊 saltyxtides. | ahv

[ladycat1]

well i decided to continue this fic with the @writersmonth prompts 😆

prompt 2: chance

read on ahead!

---

Marinette let out an impatient sigh as she sat down in her chair, glaring at the bright computer screen in front of her. She tapped on the keyboard, she made an uncommittable noise when nothing happened. God. She hated it when her computer froze on her. It made sense though–she’d had it since she was 14. Totally not cool. Leaning back in her chair, Marinette decided to let the software return to its normal fast activity on its own, and checked her watch. Looking up, her eyes drifted around her work area, and landed on a picture frame of her and Luka.

Wow .

It had been five years since the fire.

Five long years of Hawkmoth chases and akuma attacks and missing Luka and crying that things weren’t the way they were.

Because Luka was okay. He’d…gotten better. 

Slowly.

His chest had healed, and they were so close to their happy ending. 

So close. 

Once Ladybug would defeat Hawkmoth, she and Luka would build a life together. Attending université and late night sleepovers and being in love.

But Hawkmoth had only stepped up his game—the last five years had been nothing, if not hell. How could Marinette continue to date Luka–only to put his life in danger? She’d almost lost him once, and she wasn’t taking chances again. 

So she’d broken them off.

Told Luka she didn’t love him. Because he wouldn’t leave otherwise. Taken away his Miraculous. Said that he wasn’t good enough.

It was harsh, but it was the only thing that she could do. If Marinette had told Luka the truth, he would have been persistent to stay. She knew him. 

And it killed her on the inside.

For a few months after the breakup, she and Luka would indulge in small talk. Shy glances. Sometimes, Luka would stop by the bakery, and chat with Marinette. But it wasn’t the same. And Luka had noticed, as well. After a while, he went touring with Jagged, and they stopped talking. Even after he’d returned to Paris…they had become strangers once again. 

Tracing the frame slowly, Marinette wondered if there was any possible way to salvage their relationship. She let out a small breath of air, then chuckled at herself. Of course not.

Luka was a rational man, but if there was anything he disliked, it was being lied to. Her mind wandered and she spun around in her chair slowly, then grabbed her phone. There was a party that Alya had set up that night; a congratulatory party. Juleka had booked her first modeling gig, and the girls wanted to celebrate their friend’s rising success. Swiping in the password to her phone, Marinette called Alya. 

The line rang once. Twice. Thrice.

“Hey girl! What’s up!” Alya asked, brightly from the other side. Marinette smiled at her friend’s enthusiasm. 

“What time’s the party?” she asked, twirling a lock of hair in her finger. She heard the rustling of papers on the other end. “We’re starting at seven, but you can definitely pop in earlier. I might need some help with the decor,” Alya said. “I thought you were going to be busy today! I’m glad you can come,” she smiled. Marinette nodded in thought.

“I’ll come around 6:30. I had work, but my computer froze. Might as well continue it tomorrow” she shrugged. She heard Alya’s hum from the other side. “Who else is coming?” Marinette asked, knowing well already the guest list. It had been weeks since she and Alya had a proper conversation…as friends. And Marinette missed it. She just wanted to talk about something. As Alya rattled on about the guests, Marinette’s heart froze when she mentioned Luka.

“Luka? Seriously?” she asked, a flutter of annoyance in her chest. Alya sighed unapologetically.  “He’s Juleka’s brother, Marinette. I couldn’t just not invite him. He’ll be there for about half an hour, then he’ll leave. Something about…Jagged needing him later. Besides, I think you two should talk a bit. It’ll be good fo—”

“Fine, whatever” Marinette huffed, cutting her friend off. Alya frowned. 

“Seriously, Marinette?” she sighed. “You can’t keep living with this attitude forever. It’s been like this for months” 

Ouch. 

She struck a nerve there. 

Marinette inhaled, then exhaled slowly, her eyes narrowing.

“ You’re not the to be telling me this” she bit back. Marinette heard silence on the other end, and felt a fleeting moment of satisfaction. Alya mumbled an exasperated goodbye, and hung up the phone. A moment later, Marinette covered her face in her hands, upset. Why was she like this?

Couldn’t she carry on a normal conversation like before? 

How screwed up was her life, that she had become such a bitter person?

Marinette bit her lip, and fell to the ground, toying with her lucky charm bracelet tied around her wrist. She glanced at Tikki, who was sleeping softly on her desk.

Alya had a point—how long would be hidden away in her room, with this awful attitude.

Marinette was going to go to the party.

She was going to meet Luka.

And she was going to act perfectly fine.

After all, she had to take a chance, right?

#endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #marinette dupain cheng #lukanette #second chances