#just wish i had a better close up of lydia

[milfsloverblog]

Stood Up (Part 3) (NSFW)

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

Part 1 Part 2

A/N: This took me so long to write, I reaaaally wanted to write the angst (beware) but then got stuck at the smutty part (which is why it isn’t as detailed). I hope you’ll enjoy reading this chapter as much as the previous ones! Lil reminder that my requests are open and I’ll happily write for any of Gwen’s characters <3

~1,8k

Saying you had fallen for Larissa would be an understatement. In a couple of weeks the tall woman had insidiously made her way inside your brain and inside your heart. She was usually your first thought in the morning when your eyes fluttered open, and your very last at night when you went to bed and moaned her name, your hand buried between your thighs under the bedsheets.

You hadn’t dared use her phone number yet. She’d said to use it wisely and you weren’t sure that calling or texting her every time you wanted to would make her very happy. You knew she was a busy woman, probably working until late at night only to wake up early in the mornings, and the last thing you wanted was to bother her.

A couple of times you had thought about sending her flowers, you even had the perfect bouquet in mind. Some black pearl amaryllis paired with baby’s breath and eucalyptus. Love and passion, new beginnings, protection. The perfect bouquet. But you had no idea which school to send it to and even if you had, you still weren’t sure that sending flowers to a woman you were having casual sex with was a good idea.

————

You sighed as you flipped the sign on your shop window, staring at the word “closed” written in bold letters while you locked the door. Thursdays were always slow and you had only made a few sales that day. You hated Thursdays more than Mondays, but at least you had Fridays to look forward to. Even more now that you knew Larissa.

“Lydia!” You called as you walked past Ellen’s and noticed your friend taking her cigarette break outside the restaurant.

The girl stubbed out her cigarette and waved as you approached her, pushing an awkward smile.

“Are you alright ?” You asked with a soft chuckle, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

“No, no I’m fine! It’s just…It’s so rare to see you on Thursdays!” Lydia laughed uncomfortably and rubbed the back of her neck.

You were about to answer when you noticed it, the silver hair through the restaurant window. You couldn’t believe your luck.

“Larissa!” You whispered, watching the woman for a few seconds before moving to walk inside the restaurant.

“No, no wait-“ Lydia tried to hold you back but it was too late, you had already pushed the door open and taken a few steps towards Larissa’s table.

That’s when you finally realised that another woman was sitting across from Larissa. A redhead with big glasses who looked around Larissa’s age.

The tall woman leaned in a little, telling her companion something that made her laugh loudly. Larissa smiled, looking proud of herself and you watched as the redhead put her hand on the blonde’s one on the table.

Oh. Oh. It suddenly dawned on you that you were witnessing a date.

You took a step back and accidentally bumped into Lydia who dropped the empty plates that she had been carrying. Immediately the whole restaurant turned to look at the two of you, including Larissa and her companion.

You kneeled at the same time as Lydia did to pick up the broken pieces of glass, your back turned to Larissa.

“I’m sorry, babe,” Lydia whispered, glancing at the tall woman still sitting down in her booth. “I tried to tell you, I…I’ll spit in their food if that makes you feel better.”

You looked at your friend, eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill, and shook your head.

“That won’t be necessary.” You managed to say, “We’re not together. She’s free to see whoever she wishes to see.”

With that you got back on your feet and took a deep breath, turning around to look at Larissa who immediately pulled her hand away from the redhead’s. She opened her mouth to speak but you didn’t care enough to listen, instead choosing to get out of the restaurant as quickly as you could.

As soon as the building was out of sight you burst into loud sobs, letting the tears run freely down your cheeks. And it was silly, you knew that. Larissa didn’t owe you anything, she wasn’t yours and you weren’t hers. You weren’t even mad at her, you were mad at yourself for allowing this to happen.

Of course, she would want to date someone more like her. Someone her age, someone who did more in life than owning a flower shop. You knew that you were different from Larissa in almost every aspect but somehow you had hoped that maybe…

Fuck, it hurt. Your heart squeezed painfully in your chest as you realised that you had fallen in love with a woman who probably saw you as a mere distraction. And you could never be mad at her, because it was all your fault.

——————

The next few days were hell. Every time you closed your eyes you’d see images of Larissa and that redhead woman and it made you sick to your stomach. So much so that you skipped dining at Ellen’s that Friday.

You resented every single person that came into your shop to buy flowers for their partner, your teeth grinding each time someone mentioned their loved one.

“Your partner is lucky, I bet they get showered in flowers a lot.” The tall man standing on the other side of your counter said.

You looked up at him and his beige coat, and then back down at the bouquet of stargazer lilies he had bought. He had been here twice this week already. Yesterday he had gotten a dozen of white tulips and you couldn’t help but wonder if the man knew what these flowers meant.

I’m sorry, the tulips said. I miss you, the lilies added.

“I don’t have a partner.” You simply answered as politely as you could. “I’ll be back in a second, I need to get some organza.”

You walked to the back of your shop, shuffling through your organza rolls to find one that would match the bouquet.

“Ha!” You smiled victoriously and made your way back to the front of the shop, stopping dead in your tracks when you saw Larissa standing where the man had been just a couple of minutes earlier.

Your eyes quickly scanned around the shop, the man was gone. It made no sense, because if he had left and Larissa had walked in, the bell over the door would have rung twice, and it didn’t ring at all.

“I waited for you on Friday night,” Larissa’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, “But you never came.”

You bit back a snarky remark and walked to the counter where the lilies were still waiting to be wrapped.

“I didn’t feel like going to Ellen’s.” You answered, keeping your eyes down as you cut the organza.

“You haven’t called, or texted.” She said, making you shake your head a little.

“Yes, well, I know you’re a busy woman. Didn’t want to bother you.” You shrugged, still not looking at her.

“You’re right, I am a busy woman. But I would have made time for you.” Larissa took a step closer and you put the scissors down, taking a deep breath before looking up at her face.

“I don’t think we should see each other again.” You said as straightforwardly as you could, watching how Larissa’s mouth dropped slightly open as she processed your words.

“Why?” It came out of the older woman’s mouth as a whisper.

Because I’m in love with you but you aren’t in love with me, you wanted to say.

“Because it wouldn’t be right to that redhead woman I saw you with last week.” You shrugged and went back to wrapping the bouquet.

There was a moment of silence before Larissa suddenly started laughing, and it made the anger bubble in your body.

“Yeah, it’s so funny, isn’t it? So, so funny.” You said through gritted teeth. “I really hope it made you feel good about yourself, me fucking you and you fucking me. I know I’m not good enough to be with someone like you, hell you probably wouldn’t even look at me if I walked past you down the street. But, fuck, it hurts. It hurts to know that if I had been a little more like that redhead, maybe you would have wanted me. Really wanted me, like I want you.”

Larissa had stopped laughing then, her blue eyes wide as she listened to your rant. She frowned because she thought she’d understood what you were implying but it couldn’t be. You couldn’t possibly be in love with her.

“Marilyn, the redhead, is my employee.” She eventually said after a few seconds. “And she is the closest thing I have to a friend. I don’t know what you think you saw that night at Ellen’s, but it wasn’t a date. We do like and respect each other, but it’s nothing like that.”

You just stood there quietly, realising you had been even more stupid than you’d thought. You wanted nothing more than to disappear.

“You fell in love with me…” Larissa said barely audibly and you shrugged, fidgeting with the lilies in your hands.

The cat was out of the bag now, it would be useless to deny your feelings after your clear display of jealousy.

“Yes, I did. Can you really blame me though? You’re everything anyone could wish for.” You eventually said, daring to look up at the tall woman.

Larissa leaned on the counter, her face stopping only a few inches from yours.

“Tell me again how we shouldn’t be seeing each other.” She whispered, her eyes dropping to your lips.

What happened next happened so quickly, you barely had time to register it. You closed the gap between Larissa’s lips and yours, her hand immediately grabbing the back of your neck to pull you closer.

She walked around the counter and lifted you as if you weighed no more than a feather, only to take you to the back of the shop and lay you down on the workbench where you prepped the flowers each morning.

You could smell the roses and carnations that surrounded you when Larissa kneeled between your now naked legs, a couple of thorns dug into your back but you could not have cared less.

“Have me, please!” You begged, aching to feel the woman’s touch on your skin again.

How special it was, you thought as you looked down into Larissa’s eyes and she looked up into yours, to have a goddess kneeled between her worshiper’s thighs, her mouth and chin slicked with their arousal.

You knew you wouldn’t last long when the coil in your tummy tightened dangerously, threatening to snap at any second.

When you came moaning Larissa’s name, the woman’s heart swelled in her chest. You loved her. Someone loved her. She was loved, finally.

“I love you too.” Larissa whispered in your ear as you came down from your high, placing a soft kiss on your panting lips.

She loved you.

Thank god. Thank god for the imbecile who had stood her up.

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x y/n #larissa x reader #no beta we die like larissa #principal weems

[lfzyxf]

Could you please write some isaac lahey fluff, maybe about reader wearing his sweater?

I'm so excited to write for Teen Wolf again. Thank you so much for requesting this, I hope its to your liking! Masterlist Word count: 1480

It’s easy to forget that even in Beacon Hills, California the weather gets colder during the winter. So easy that you’re now sitting in class shivering and struggling to focus on whatever Coach is saying. You pull the sleeves of your sweater down to cover your hands before rubbing them over your hands, trying to warm yourself up. 

After a few more seconds of trying to warm yourself something in the corner of your eye grabs your attention. You turn slightly to see it’s a cardigan being handed to you by Isaac. You’re not that close to him even if you wish you were, you mostly got to know him when he became friends with Scott. But even then, you were too shy to actually try and get to know him better. 

You hesitantly move to take the cardigan before smiling softly at him. All he does in response is wink at you before turning back towards the front of class. Holding the sweater in your hands you feel how soft it is, you recognize it as well. It’s a long grey and black striped cardigan. You recall it being his favourite with how often he wears it. 

Finally, you put it on, instantly feeling a lot warmer. The sleeves fall past your hands which makes you roll them up. When you look back up you see Isaac staring at you, a soft smile resting on his lips and his cheeks tinted a soft pink. You smile back at him before finally focussing on whatever Coach is going on about this time. 

After an incredibly boring 40 minutes class is finally over. You quickly rush to grab your stuff so you can make it on time for your next class on the other side of the building. You barely make it on time, plopping down in your seat next to Lydia. “Did you run here?” she asks looking at you with a raised eyebrow. “Basically, I don’t know who made my schedule but when I found them-” she interrupts you, pointing at what you’re wearing “is that Isaac’s cardigan?”.  

Shocked you look down; you completely forgot you were wearing his cardigan. “I-uh, yeah. I was cold during class, so he lent it to me. I completely forgot to give it back.” You explain while Lydia just stares at you with a smug look on her face. “He just happened to notice you were cold and offered you his favourite cardigan?” 

Your cheeks start to feel warm; you shake your head while playing with edge of the cardigan. “I’m sure it didn’t mean anything to him, he was just being friendly I’m sure” you reason. She clearly doesn’t agree as she just shakes her head right as the teacher walks in. 

Classes are finally over for today causing you and Lydia to walk back to your lockers with excitement. The group is going over to Scott’s place to hang out for the rest of the day. When you arrive at your lockers the others are already waiting on you. Stiles is leaning against the locker next to yours with Scott next to him, they’re talking to Allison about something. You quickly open your locker, stuffing your books into it. “Is that a new cardigan?” Allison asks confused, pointing at it. You dont get a chance to respond before a different voice responds, “It’s mine actually.”  

You quickly turn around, behind you is Isaac, leaning against the locker next to you, similarly to Stiles. He smiles at you before asking, “I hope it kept you warm?” Your brain takes a moment to catch up before you respond, nodding “yes, yes it did thank you! I’m sorry for running off with it, i had to run to make it to my next class and I just completely forgot about it.” Your cheeks are heating up again as he looks down at you, eating up your every word. 

He shakes his head softly “nah don't worry about it, you look better in it anyway. Wouldn’t want you to freeze either” he says before standing up normally “are we leaving?” He asks nodding towards the exit. There’s a moment of silence before Scott speaks up and we leave to go to his place for the scheduled hang out. 

While making your way to Scott’s place Allison and Lydia hang in the back with you. “So, what was that about?” Allison asks smiling. You shrug “I have no idea-” “he clearly likes you” Lydia interrupts. You push her softly before shushing her. “Maybe don’t talk about it so loudly?” you say with wide eyes, glancing at Isaac hoping he didn’t hear anything with his heightened senses. 

Lydia simply rolls her eyes while Allison puts her arm around your shoulders. “Why don’t you just ask?” You stare at Allison for a moment before replying, “are you actually insane? Do you need medical help?” She laughs before shaking her head “you won’t know until you ask.” You sigh softly, looking at the ground “what if he doesn’t like me like that? It would just get awkward between us.” “But what if he does” Lydia responds, she’s smiling softly at you, a comforting look in her eyes. “You can’t let this opportunity go to waste just because you’re scared.” 

You take a breath before nodding “I’ll talk to him about it later.” The two girls smile at you until Stiles interrupts the sweet moment “can you guys walk any slower?” 

Stiles is terrible at Mario Kart, that much is clear by the fact that he’s lost 3 times in a row. He still refuses to give up, convinced that he’ll one the next round against Scott. You stopped playing after the 2nd round, your head started to hurt from how loud Stiles screams when playing. Lydia and Allison are sitting on the sofa watching Scott and Isaac absolutely kick Stiles’ ass in the game. Even after another round of losing Stiles is convinced he can win so he goes up against Scott once more. This time Isaac doesn’t play, similarly he complains his head is starting to hurt. “I’m not even that loud!” Stiles retorts, or more so yells. “Yes, you are” all of us reply in turn. 

You’re still laughing when Isaac walks up to you, crouching so only you can hear him. “Could we talk for a moment?” He asks looking up at you. You nod briefly, wondering what on earth he would have to say to you in private. “Of course,” you stand up before following him to the kitchen, moving to sit on the countertop with him leaning against the kitchen table. 

The both of you stay silent for a moment, tension high in the air. “So, what did you want to talk about?” You ask softly, playing with the hem of his cardigan that you’re still wearing. It takes another moment for him to respond, “you know, when I first met you, I was wondering why on earth you were even talking to me. I was an absolute nobody, I barely had any friends, I wasn’t doing great in lacrosse.” He sighed before continuing “after Derek bit me I was convinced I could finally ask you out. That you would finally want me like I have wanted you. But even then, I was too scared, I couldn’t get myself to tell you how I felt.” 

He moved closer to you, his hand moving to cover your cheek before softly caressing it. “But today I finally had the guts to make a move, and when I saw how adorable you looked with my cardigan on, I knew I had to tell you. But then you ran out of class, and I missed my chance. So, I’m telling you now because I’m not missing another chance.”  

He moves even closer, your knees pressing against his legs. He tilts his head down to look into your eyes before he speaks once more “I really like you-” he laughs softly “honestly, I think I might be in love with you.” You can’t hold back your smile; your hands move to rest on his chest when you ask if he’s being serious. He nods, his head dropping down to rest against yours. “I feel the same way” you laugh, “I was too scared to say anything.” The two of you laugh for a moment. Finding the fact that the both of you felt the same way but were just too scared to say anything incredibly stupid. 

“Then, could I ask for the honour of being yours?” He asks, smiling at you, his cheeks painted an adorable red. You quickly nod in response, smiling before finally kissing him. His hands move to hold your face, the two of you enjoying the moment until you are once again interrupted by Stiles screaming in victory as he finally won a game. 

#teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #Isaac lahey #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey fluff #teen wolf fluff #daniel sharman #request #isaac lahey imagine

[chloe-skywalker]

Not My Decision - Stiles Stilinski

Stiles x reader sister

Derek x reader-ish

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,085

Requested: TW imagine the reader is Stiles sister and u get into an accident and Derek turns u into a wolf and Stiles goes against ur wishes and u get pissed at him for doing so and Peter actually takes care of u - @cokecola4211

Authors Note: I enjoyed the concept behind this request, it was ajoy to write. Maybe a Part 2?

Masterlist

Teen Wolf Masterlist

******************************************************************

“Help!” Stiles yelled out carrying Y/n into the hospital. She was covered in blood and therefore so was Stiles.

“Stiles what happened?” Melissa asked as she called a team over with a gurney.

“Just please help her.” Stiles pleaded as he placed her on the rolling hospital bed. He had to watch as they rushed into emergency surgery. Scott had come running in after he had parked the Jeep for his friend. They Both sat down in the waiting room. It didn’t take long for the others to hear about what happened and soon pretty much the entire pack were in the waiting room.

Melissa came out a few hours later with a sad expression. “She’s stable for now.”

“For now?” Stiles asked with extremely worried eyes.

“I don’t know how long she’ll stay stable for.” She hated having to tell Stiles that his sister was basically dieing. Two kids she’s known their whole lives and practically considered her own at times.

“Mom?” Scott stood up with eyes that begged his mom to not say what he thought she was going to say.

“Its not looking good, hunny. I’m sorry. We should probably call your dad, Stiles.” Melissa bit her lip in solace that they’d probably all have to say goodbye.

“What if I could help? The bite.” Derek spoke up, he was very close to the female Stilinski. They were really good friends and if he was being honest he had a bit of a crush on her. Maybe he could save her.

“No. That could still kill her.” Scottt shook his head protesting, not liking the idea at all.

Derek shrugged his shoulders, trying not to show how much the possibility of Y/n dying affected him. “I’m just suggesting. It would be better to try then do nothing and lose her anyway.”

“That’s not what she would want.” Scott argued back. Truthfully he didn’t know if Y/n would want it or not but she would make comments about how it'd be hard being one would make life. Wasn’t that enough? “Stiles, you know that.”

“Do it.” Stiles didn’t care at the moment what anyone thought. He just couldn’t lose his sister.

“Stiles-”

“No Scott.” Stiles turned his head to look at his best friend. Stiles glanced down for a second before he continued. “I know it’s not what she’d want but I don’t have a choice. We don’t have a choice. Plus she trust’s Derek…”

Stiles knew Y/n probably wouldn’t want the bite, not without real thought put into it. But there was more of a chance for her to live. If they don’t do it, she dies. If Derek at least tries she might live.

“We have to try. I can’t lose my sister, Scott.” Stiles pleaded with his eyes.

“If the bite doesn’t take, then we still lose Y/n, Stiles.” Scott tried one last time, but truth be told Scott did think it was worth a shot. Y/n was like a little sister to him, he didn’t want to see her die either.

“At least we tried, because Scott we’re gonna lose her anyway if we don’t.” Stiles stated before turning his attention back to Derek. With a nod he stated. “Do it.”

“Follow me.” Melissa nodded at Derek and he followed her.

It was around 45 minutes before they came back out of the room. This time their faces looked more relieved.

“She's stable and improving.” Melissa smiled, happy to be sharing good news.

“The bite worked?” Lydia questioned the older wolf. Hoping she didn’t have to bury another friend.

Derek nodded with relieved eyes. “It worked. I can sense it. Feel it.”

After all, she was his beta now.

“Good. Good.” Stiles nodded, running his hands through his hair.

“You know she might be pissed.” Lydia looked to Stiles with a knowing look.

“Oh she’s going to be pissed.” Peter stated tauntingly, although he too was glad the girl was going to live. She didn’t treat him like the others.

“Then at least I made the decision that saved her life.” Stiles knew he made the right decision. But he really just hoped she would eventually forgive him.

Eventually everyone went home to get some sleep. Derek stayed and eventually Mr.Stilinski showed up. He showed up just in time when Y/n woke up. He was in there for a while before he asked Derek to come into the room. Which really made Stiles nervous.

Derek left the room not long before their dad did. The two shook hands and Derek left the hospital. Stiles was finally told by his dad that he could go see his sister. For a while the two siblings just sat in silence. Till Y/n spoke up.

“I’m different now. You made that choice for me.” Y/n stated looking down at her hands placed on her lap.

“I didn’t have any other choice.” Stiles stated back. Y/n nodded in understanding and Stiles was grateful that she did. But he still had a bad feeling.

“I need a break Stiles.” Y/n said looking at him with eyes Stiles couldn’t dechirer.

“What do you mean?” Stiles asked, confused, now sitting up in his uncomfortable hospital chair.

“I’m going to stay with Peter and Derek for a while. I already talked to dad about it.” Y/n explained biting her lip. It wasn’t an easy decision for her to have made but she needed space right now, and she needed Derek to help her learn to control her new abilities. Peter too, oddly.

“Y/n-” Stiles tried to interject but Y/n shook her head.

“I need time to adjust Stiles. To get used to my new life, the changes to my body and mind.” Y/n told him hoping he’d get why she was doing this. Why she had to do this. Y/n loved her brother but this? She needed time. “I also need time to understand your choice for my future. To calm down and be able to control myself. I don’t want to get angry at you and hurt you. You're my brother, we’re closer than close Stiles. We alway have been. But right now, I’m afraid I’m gonna hurt you.”

“Ok” Stiles couldn’t say anything else. She was angry at him and was afraid she’d hurt him because of her anger. Anger at him for the choice he made for her. Even though she was pissed, she was still protecting him.

Taglist: @padawancat97

#x reader #y/n #imagine #imagines #teenwolf #teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf imagine #derek hale #derek hale imagine #scott mccall #melissa mccall #peter hale #lydia martin #stiles stilinski #stiles x y/n #stiles x reader #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinski x sister reader #stiles stilinski x sister!reader

[andreafmn]

12 Days of Ficmas ❅ Day 1

Word Count: 4.8K Paring:  Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader Prompt @alloftheprompts: Character A and Character B broke up but now they meet at a Christmas party.

Summary: In unpredictable Beacon Hills, Stiles and (Y/N) being together was one of the only things that made sense. But sometimes the smallest of changes can create the biggest of chaos. And a simple college admission letter can do just that. Maybe all it takes is the right Christmas gift to make things better.

A/N: yup, that's right, I'm doing 12 Days of Ficmas again (even if I haven't finished Kinktober 🫣🫣 but I am nothing if not a masochist (and a slight procrastinator) But enjoy!! This story actually made me tear up, honestly. But it wouldn't be one of my stories if there wasn't an insane amount of angst 😅 Also, disclaimer, I have not seen the last two seasons of Teen Wolf or the movie so, sorry for any inconsistencies.

Next ->

“Let’s just get this over with,” (Y/N) sighed as she fixed the Santa hat on top of her head. “They don’t have to know yet.”

“Yeah,” Stiles grimaced. “It’s better to wait until after the holidays, I guess.”

It was the first time Stiles and (Y/N) had ever been terrified to enter Scott’s house and face all of their friends. Even worse, they had to pretend everything was fine between them. 

Since they were little, the pair had been inseparable. Being next-door neighbors allowed them to grow close at a rapid pace. It was in her that he found solace on the nights his mother’s illness would take the best of her mind. He would run over to her house and climb the lattice that ran all the way up to her room. 

And she wouldn’t ask questions. (Y/N) would simply let him in through her window and distract him until he eventually drifted off to sleep. She did not need any explanations or reasons to comfort Stiles. She simply knew he needed her, and so she was there for him. Because if there was anything she knew of, it was the pain of slowly losing a parent.

They shared a bond that no one could break. Even as Scott entered their duo and they became the perfect trio, Stiles and (Y/N) shared a connection like no other. So, it came as no surprise to anyone when they got together. Even after Stiles had continuously professed his love for Lydia. Even after (Y/N) and Boyd had a quick fling. Everyone knew that it would be the two of them at the end of the day. 

What no one expected was that one day, they wouldn’t be Stiles and (Y/N) anymore. Hell, not even they had seen it coming. 

Their downfall had begun the second week of December. For some reason, the couple had not spoken about what happened after high school. In their senior year, they were focusing on the present, leaving the future where it was. Because what they didn’t know couldn’t hurt them. 

(Y/N) had applied under early action to various colleges, thinking nothing of it. But there was one college that had been her dream since her father had passed, and that was her only early decision application. She had worked every day since to make sure she was at least close to being accepted. But it was never a sure thing. 

She had promised herself to put it in the back of her mind. Stressing over that envelope would only drive her into madness. As much as she wanted it to be true, she knew the reality of the situation. The chances she could ever get in, much less with a full ride, were slim to none. And hoping only made things worse.

Still, that hadn’t stopped her from applying; it hadn’t stopped her from wishing. 

“Honey,” her mother had said one afternoon after she got home from school. “Look what came in the mail.” 

In her hands, there was a white manila envelope with blue lettering that clearly read: University of Oxford. 

(Y/N) could have sworn she could feel her heart in her throat, beating at an unnatural pace and threatening to leap out of her body. She crossed the distance between her front door to the kitchen faster than she had ever done before, needing to feel the paper in her hands. Only seeing it was not proof enough that it was real. 

“I don’t think I can open it,” the girl worried. “What if it’s bad, mom?”

“You won’t know unless you see, my darling,” she smiled softly. “But no matter what, you will still be the most impressive young lady I have known. And any college would be lucky to have you.”

With trembling hands, she broke open the envelope and pulled out a beautiful and crisp piece of white paper. “Dear (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” she read before taking a steadying breath. “It is with greatest pleasure that we inform you that the Admissions Comittee has decided to offer you admission to Oxford University through our binding Early Decision (ED) option on a full scholarship.”

As (Y/N) read those words, tears spilled from her eyes, and the papers fell from her hands. Her mother wrapped her arms tightly around her, showering her with words of love and encouragement. It had been everything she had worked for. Something not even the supernaturals of the world could take from her. 

“You’re going to Oxford, baby girl,” her mother cooed. “I knew you could. Your dad would have been just as proud as I am.” 

That moment should have been the happiest in her life so far. But there was a dark cloud that lingered over her as she celebrated. She had not told anyone she was applying to a college so far away, much less the reason she would be doing so. Mostly because she was terrified she wouldn’t get in. But part of her knew it was because she was leaving all her friends behind, leaving Stiles behind. And that was the hardest part. 

For the rest of the week, as she celebrated internally, she hid the biggest news of her life from all of her friends and the boy she had deemed the love of her life. Anyone would have thought she was the one harboring a secret supernatural life with the way she was guarding her secret. And, maybe it shouldn’t have been something she kept to herself. Maybe they would have all been excited for her and understood the reason for the distance. But something deep in her stopped her every single time. 

If her friends had noticed there was anything different from her demeanor, they didn’t say a thing. In the midst of final exams and the Christmas holidays soon approaching, everyone seemed to be stuck in their own heads. So, if they were in their heads, they couldn’t know there was something happening in hers.  

But that Friday night, at the same hour Stiles would always sneak in, (Y/N) knew there was no way she could continue to hide her secret any longer. 

“Come on,” he chuckled as he jumped onto her bed, holding his arms open. “Tell me what’s going on with you.” 

“What do you mean?” she said, forcing a smile. “Why do you say that?”

“You know you can’t lie to me. I may not have super hearing, but I can tell, (Y/N).” 

“Yeah,” she chuckled softly. “You know me too well.” 

“Of course I do,” he smiled as he crossed the distance between them and caressed the softness of her cheek. “Now, please, tell me what’s wrong?” 

That was it. That was the moment that had changed them, the moment that had broken them. 

(Y/N) took a steadying breath and took his hands in hers, focusing on the veins on his hands rather than his worried eyes. “I got a letter last week,” she started with a sigh. “I told you about all the colleges I had applied to as early action.” 

“Of course, you bright mind, you,” he said. “Did you already start getting the acceptance letters?” 

“Uh, there’s another college I actually applied to. Early decision.”

“Like binding early decision?”

“Yeah, exactly,” she said, her voice trembling as she spoke. “I, uh, I applied to the University of Oxford. And I got in.”

Instead of embracing her, Stiles dropped her hands, taking a step away from her. “In England?” he asked as though he was offended. “Why would you wanna go that far?”

“It’s not about the distance,” she grimaced, finally meeting his hurt eyes. “It’s about what that school means. That’s where my dad went to school. That’s the place my parents met. That was the school that started my entire life, Stiles.” 

“So, why didn’t you tell me about it? If it was so damn important, why did you never mention it?” Stiles seethed, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “You wanna start a new life, is that it? Follow in your parents’ footsteps and meet the love of your life there? Great, (Y/N). And you made sure you did it in a way you couldn’t back out.”

“Stiles, that’s not…”

“So, what? Were you gonna wait until graduation to tell me that you were moving halfway across the world to get away from us? From me?” the boy cried. “Or were you simply going to disappear and start a new life without telling anyone? But I guess that’s your thing now, huh? Keeping big shit like this until you can’t anymore.”

“That’s not fair, Stiles,” she frowned, hugging her arms tightly across her torso. “I didn’t want to get my hopes up, so I didn’t say anything. That doesn’t mean that I would have never told you about it. I’m not looking to escape. I’m looking to start my future.” 

“And it looks like you were starting it without me then,” he croaked. “What does that mean for us, (Y/N)? We ride it out until graduation, and then you leave for the rest of your life?” 

“I don’t… you wanna b-break up?” 

“It’s inevitable now, isn’t it?” Stiles said in a tone that broke her more than the words he was speaking. “You’re gonna be in England, and I’m gonna be god knows where. It’s better just to do it now.” 

That night was nothing like she had imagined it would be. She had hoped Stiles would have been excited for her and promised her everything would be alright. That somehow he would have the answers to how they could withstand so much distance because they had to make it. Out of everyone in their friend group, those two had to make it. 

Instead, it had taken a turn for the worse. One second, Stiles was standing before her with a smile on his face, and the next, he was leaving through her window with tears streaming down his face. What she had most been dreading was that scenario to play out, and a week before their friend’s holiday party, it had. They had gone through life-threatening and mind-boggling situations, but it was a college acceptance letter that broke them apart. 

The coming days (Y/N) spent buried in bed. Although she should have been celebrating one of her biggest achievements –other than saving lives and defeating many, many creatures– she had wasted more tears during that time than she had done the past years of her life. She was distraught and defeated, and she had no idea how she would make it through the last semester of high school, much less how she would have made it through a Christmas party. 

Somehow, they had arrived at Scott’s house at the same time, even after she had made sure she left twenty minutes after Stiles. The universe liked to play its mean tricks, but that one was almost unforgivable. 

“Let’s just try to stay out of each other’s way,” he grimaced. “The less we are near each other, the harder it’ll be for them to find out.” 

“Harder to find out what?” Scott asked as he swung the front door open, his signature goofy grin stretched across his mouth. Instinctively, Stiles draped his arm around (Y/N)’s shoulders and smiled brightly. “Ooh, did you bring your brownies, (Y/N)?” 

“Yeah,” she smiled. “Still warm from the oven.” 

“Wouldn’t be a party without them,” Stiles commented. “Now, let us in. It’s kinda cold out tonight.” 

The second they were inside, Stiles broke for the living room while (Y/N) moved to the kitchen with Scott. She set the tray on the overfilled kitchen island, noticing to the side that the dinner table was perfectly set up. “Oh, the table looks nice,” she commented. “But I thought we’d be doing something more low-key.” 

“Yeah,” he chuckled awkwardly. “Lydia thought it’d be fun to do a more grown-up dinner party.” 

“Yeah. Place settings and everything.” 

“We were waiting for you guys to start eating,” he said. “We’re doing gifts after.” 

“Sounds like a plan.” 

Slowly, the rest of the group trickled into the kitchen, greeting and hugging (Y/N) as they looked over all the food and served themselves their plates. And, of course, her seat was right next to Stiles’. Even if she had wanted to sit anywhere else, the rest had already taken their assigned seats, and the only open spot was the one that had her name. 

She gave her ex-boyfriend a small smile, looking anywhere but into the brown of his eyes. Her heart beat against her chest, threatening to jump out of her body. It made her fidgety as everyone ate, thinking any of the wereanimals around her would be able to tell how she was feeling. 

But Scott was laughing with Stiles, Malia was talking to Lydia, and Hayden, Liam, and Mason had their own conversation running. (Y/N) was all by herself. She was surrounded by all the people she loved, but it was the loneliest she had felt in a long time. Without the usual comforting words from Stiles, she couldn’t help but feel so out of place. It was the happiest time of the year, but the girl was miserable, and it hurt that it didn’t seem like the boy she loved was sad as well. 

“Alright,” Lydia spoke up as everyone ignored their mostly empty plates. “Now that our bellies are full, I think it’s time for Secret Santa! And I truly hope you all kept it a secret this time.” 

“Not that it’d matter anyway,” Liam chuckled. “We all know we ask for help every time.” 

“Anyways,” she said, ignoring the soft laughter that erupted from the group. “Let’s go to the living room, and (Y/N) you’ll go first.”

“Oh, uh, sure,” she smiled as she followed the group into the living room. She crouched under the decorated Christmas tree, pulling out the gift that had been there for almost two weeks. “I got Lydia.” 

“How wonderful!” the redhead mused, quick to hug her friend and rip away the wrapping paper. Inside the gift box was a mosaic picture of Lydia, Allison, and (Y/N), the first time they had finally considered each other friends. “Oh, it’s beautiful! I wish I could take it with me everywhere.” 

“It was hard to get it just right, but I loved how it turned out.” 

“It’s perfect, (Y/N),” she beamed. “Thank you.” 

“Of course. I love you, Lids.” 

“Love you too,” the girl said as she wrapped her friend in a tighter hug. “My turn!”

Lydia had gifted Liam nine books out of his TBR list —nine because of his lacrosse number. Then, Liam gifted Scott a new leather jacket so he could “actually look cool when riding his motorcycle,” Liam snickered. Scott then gifted Malia a light blue hoodie to add to her ever-growing collection, while Malia gifted Hayden a journal and pen set, saying it was for when her mind felt too busy. After a warm smile and a hug, she announced her gift was for Mason, laughing as he pulled out an ugly cat sweater. Once the loud laughter subsided, Mason gifted Stiles a massage mat for his Jeep. 

“For when you’re taking really long drives,” the boy smiled, clearly proud of himself. “There’s quite some distance between here and D.C. It’ll come in handy.” 

“Yeah,” he chuckled as he hugged Mason. “Thanks, man. It’s great.” 

“Don’t mention it.”

As Mason sat back down, Stiles cleared his throat as he pulled the last gift. Everyone knew by then who it was for. There was no one else left. “Well, I guess you all know who this is for,” he said. “I hope you like it, (Y/N).” 

The girl received the bag with a soft smile, trying her best to swallow the tears that were threatening to spill. She had forgotten for a second how cruel the universe could be. She pulled out the white tissue paper first before finding a beautiful brown bear dressed in a blue knit sweater. Around its neck, there was a necklace with something she could only assume was a soundwave. With curiosity washing over her, she looked to Stiles for an explanation. 

“Uh, so, it’ll make a lot more sense if you press the bear’s hand,” he stammered. Once she died as told, the sound broke her. From deep in the belly of the teddy bear, her father’s voice rang out, singing the words of “You Are My Sunshine.” There was not a single night when she was little that her father didn’t sing that to her, and even as she grew old for the lullaby, he would call her sunshine. “I got a recording from your mom of your dad singing the song when you were a baby,” Stiles spoke over the music. “And the necklace is the image of the soundwave of your dad calling you sunshine.” 

Tears had long since fallen down her cheeks, clutching the bear in her arms as though it was her own father. With her eyes closed, it was almost as though he was right there, singing to her. But it was what came after the song that shattered her. “You’re gonna do great things, (Y/N),” her father said through the bear. “I love you forever, my little sunshine.” 

At that moment, all she wanted to do was hug Stiles and kiss him like she had done a million times before. That was the boy she had fallen in love with. The one that cared and listened. The one that had made her heart race and her stomach turn into butterflies. She wanted to tell him she loved him and never let him go, but she couldn’t. Just like she could never do with her father. 

“I, uh,” she said as she stood from the couch, feeling as though she would faint in the crowded room. “I need some air.” 

(Y/N) stammered her way out of the living room and through the front door, only allowing herself to break down when she was at the end of the driveway. She fell to her knees and hugged the bear to her chest as she cried, letting the hurt that had accumulated over the years spill onto the pavement. In less than six months, she was going to walk into a new life halfway across the globe without the support of her father and now, without the support of Stiles. All alone. 

She should have been celebrating. She knew that. She should have been crying tears of joy and jumping into her love’s arms. Instead, it was the bear’s arms that she could feel. The softness of its fur, the sound of her father’s voice. 

Without even realizing it, she had begun singing along to the lullaby, sniffling between words as the tears didn’t relent. “You’re gonna do great things, (Y/N),” her father said once more through the bear. “I love you forever, my little sunshine.” 

“I love you too, dad,” she cried. 

“Hey,” his voice startled her. Through teary eyes, she looked up to find Stiles draping a jacket over her shoulders. He slid to the ground next to her, facing the house before them as she was now. “I’m sorry. I bought the gift weeks ago, and I wasn’t sure if I was still allowed to give it to you.” 

“No, it was… i-it was perfect,” she stammered, running her hand over the bear’s fur. “It’s just everything rushed over me. Like the breakup, the fact that I won’t be here next year, the fact that my dad won’t even see me gradua…”

Another string of sobs ransacked (Y/N)’s body, but that time it wasn’t the bear she was hugging. Stiles had wrapped his arms around her, pressing her into his chest. She could smell his cologne and feel his warmth, a feeling she had missed for the past seven days. All she wanted was to melt into his touch and profess to him all that she felt. But she couldn’t. Not anymore. Because he didn’t want it. 

“I didn’t want things to be this way,” she cried into his chest. “I didn’t want everything to fall apart.” 

Stiles remained quiet as she cried, a hard feat for someone like him. But he let her cry and cry until only quiet sniffles filled the air. Because he hadn’t wanted things to be that way either. 

He knew he had overreacted. When he had told (Y/N) his plans of enrolling in George Washington University all the way across the county, she had told him they could make it work. Especially if she got into any of the ivy leagues she had applied to on the East Coast. It had been fine. Hell, it had been perfect. 

But when she told him that she wouldn’t just be a couple of states away but that she would be on another continent, he couldn’t help but let his abandonment issues take control. 

He knew she was brilliant. He knew she deserved to do and be all that she had dreamed. But he feared that once she achieved all of her goals, he would just not fit into her life anymore. 

“You’re gonna go on to do great things, (Y/N),” he sighed sadly as her tears stopped. “You’re gonna go to Oxford, just like your parents, and you’re gonna probably graduate at the top of your class on your way. And I’ll be here —well, in Washington, technically—cheering you on.”

“But why couldn’t we be great together, Stiles? We couldn’t we both go on to do great things, together?”

“Come on, (Y/N). Once you’re there, you’re gonna meet so many people, and you’ll have guys falling on their knees for you,” he chuckled dryly. “I won’t fit into your new world. I mean, you said it yourself: that’s where your parents met and your life began. And now, maybe you’ll have a new beginning. And years from today, we’ll run into each other, and you’ll tell me about your job and your husband and your kids, and I’ll be so happy for you. Because you serve all the love and happiness in the world, even if it’s without me.”

“Have you even asked yourself if that’s what I want?” (Y/N) asked as she left his warm embrace, her red eyes boring into his. “I’m not leaving because I’m searching for a new life. I want to go to Oxford because it’s one of the last things I can share with my dad. I can walk down the same halls he did, I can take classes in the same classrooms, and eat at the same places he did. But I was always going to come back, Stiles. Because my friends are here, my mom is here, because you are here. I don’t want to run into you and talk about another man or the kids I would have with him. I don’t want to run into you at all. I want to walk beside you, Stiles. If I ever have kids, it’s only if they’re a part of you too,” she cried, fresh tears falling down her already-stained cheeks. “If you don’t love me anymore, then fine. I can understand that, and I can walk away. But don’t you dare say that you wouldn’t fit into my life because you’ve been there longer than anyone I know, and I need you to be there until the end. Because I already lost someone important to me and I can’t lose you too. Not you.” 

“(Y/N), I don’t want to lose you either,” he sobbed. “But how can we fight with the distance? How could we ever withstand the fact that we’ll be an ocean away?”

“We have gone through worse battles than a plane ride, Stiles. We have been on the brink of death more times this past year than any person would in their lifetime. Do you really think being in a different time zone is the limit to our relationship? I know the future isn’t promised but you were the one person I always knew would be there.”

“I’m scared, okay?! I’m scared that you’ll meet someone better than me, (Y/N). I’m terrified that you’ll realize that maybe I’m not the guy that can give you your happy ever after,” he finally confessed. His voice croaked, and his chest heaved as the words fell out of his mouth faster than he could ever stop them. “This week has been torture without you. But it’s made me realize that Beacon Hills has always been too small for you. After May, you’re gonna go out there and find your place. And this town will be nothing but a memory you’ll come back to.”

“There is no one better for me than you, Stiles, and Beacon Hills will always be my home,” she replied softly. Her cold hand found his cheek, and she wiped away his tears with her thumb. “I don’t want to know a life where you’re not there. You can’t give up on us without even trying, Stiles. You just can’t.” 

Without thinking twice, (Y/N) crashed her lips onto his, sinking into the warmth of his mouth. After a week, kissing him felt like the very first time. It was desperate and filled with need —the need for closeness and passion, the need for love. Instinctively, Stiles’ hands found her waist and pulled her closer to him, wondering how he ever thought he could live without her touch. 

“I love you, Stiles, and I don’t even want to think about ever having to love someone else,” she whispered as she parted from him. “My heart belongs to you. And if this is the end, it’ll still remain in your hands.” 

“I couldn’t love anyone else like I love you, (Y/N),” he replied with a soft smile. “But I just can’t help the thoughts that flood my brain sometimes.” 

“Then don’t listen to them and listen to me when I say that since the moment I met you, I’ve known you were it for me. There is no other man waiting for me in Oxford. It’s you, and it will always be you,” (Y/N) said before kissing him softly once more. “You’re the best thing that has happened to me, Stiles Stilinski, and you’re the only thing that I want to keep happening to me.”

“I can’t believe I ever broke up with you. Especially during Christmas,” Stiles chuckled as he rested his forehead against hers, flicking the tip of her nose with his own. “It was honestly the worst week of my life.” 

“Including being possessed?” Scott’s voice startled them as he came into view. “Although, I get it because this was completely avoidable.”

(Y/N) chuckled as she took Scott’s extended hand and got on her feet, wiping away any tears that still remained. “Did you hear that whole thing?”

“More or less,” he chuckled. “It’s a bit hard not to when I was coming to see if you guys were okay.” 

“We’re good now, Scotty,” Stiles grinned. “Just had some unresolved feelings to work, though.” 

“Can you not mention the whole thing about the breakup? I don’t wanna make it a whole thing.”

“That’s a bit hard, (Y/N),” Malia called from the open front door. “We all kind of already know.”

“Oh, cool, great,” she said as she hid in Stile’s embrace. “That’s not embarrassing at all.”

“Eh, at least our parents are back together,” Liam commented. “Best Christmas present.” 

“It really is, huh?” Stiles whispered as he kissed the top of her head. 

“Yes. Very cute and adorable,” Lydia added in a desperate tone. “Now, can we go back inside before Hayden and Mason finish all the brownies?”

As the group walked back into the house, Stiles and (Y/N) shared one more moment together on the front porch. “Hey, look up,” Stiles said with a smile. “Mistletoe.”

“Funny that they’d hang that at a werewolf's home,” she chuckled. “Although, I’m pretty sure that one’s plastic.”

“And I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to kiss me.”

“Maybe I’m waiting for another guy to kiss under the plant.” Stiles frowned at her words, and all she could do was laugh. “Too soon?”

“Much,” he said. “Now, come here.”

He snaked his hands on either side of her face and kissed her passionately. He kissed her for every day they had spent apart. He kissed her for every hurtful word he had spewed. He kissed her as a promise of his love for her. Stiles kissed her like she was his future. 

Next ->

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#andreafmn #a future not promised #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski x you #stiles stilinski x y/n #teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #scott mccall #malia hale #lydia martin #liam dunbar #hayden romero #fanfiction #fan fiction #writing #angst #happy ending #breakup #christmas #12 days of ficmas #12 days of fandom #fluff #romantic fluff #christmas fluff #christmas party #established relationship

[christinesficrecs]

What are your favorite festive/Christmas fics? 🥹

Oh goodness! There are so many! Here are a few to start.

A Royal Christmas Engagement by  skoosiepants | 25.6K

Young omega Warden Lord Mieczysław Stilinski, given the royal request of marrying Crown Prince Derek Hale of Triskelion, predictably messes the whole entire thing up.

The flamingo in the yard by  Vendelin | 6.1K

It isn't fair that Stiles needs to work Christmas, when his dad is on the other side of the country. Or that his really hot, next door neighbour is around for the holidays as well. Or that there's a power outage that makes things even worse. Or better.

Deck the Hales with Mistletoe and Holly by tryslora | 32.8K | Mature

The one where Stiles manages to somehow imply that he might be dating his exceedingly hot TA for freshman lit, and ends up inviting him home for the holidays (along with his two crazy sisters) and really hopes that Lydia doesn't find out he was lying and kill him before maybe he can make it so he's not lying after all...

Layover by  dr_girlfriend | 3.6K

Big, serious brown eyes were staring right into his from only a few inches away. The child had clambered half over the arm of Derek’s chair to study him at close range, her little rosebud mouth pursed in concentration.

“Uh.” Derek couldn’t look away as the girl reached out one pudgy hand and patted him gently on the cheek. Her scent was soft and sweet and somehow a bit familiar, just enough to keep Derek from shying away. Derek didn’t know too much about kids but he guessed this one was probably three years old or so, head still oversized in proportion to the short limbs and round little belly.

She seemed fascinated with Derek’s beard, eyes widening further under incredibly thick lashes as she petted Derek’s cheek some more, smoothing down the short stubble. Finally she grinned widely. “Good wuff.”

Derek jerked upright, hands clenching on the edge of his seat. Did she just say?...

“CJ!” The child was suddenly gone, lifted up by a strong, tattooed forearm around her little potbelly. “You scared the he— heck out of me! What have I told you about wandering — Derek?”

nom de plume by  bleep0bleep | 3.9K

There are no more chapters. 22 is the last one. Derek groans in despair. He has to know what happens.

Glad Tidings by stilinskisparkles | 24.1K | Mature

“Eight people are going to be descending on our home in a mere matter of days, Derek.” Stiles grabs the pizza box, uses it to gesture at the pile of books and papers under the table, away and towards Derek’s sneaker collection. “You want them to think we live like this all the time?”

“We do live like this all the time,” Derek huffs, stretching lazily.

Mistletoe Never Lies by CarolineLahey | 19.2K | Explicit

Derek Hale loves his family, he really does. He just wishes they weren't so determined to set him up. When he finally blurts out that he has a boyfriend, and quickly gives his mother the name of the barista at his local coffee shop as his "boyfriend", he figures that buys him a little peace. He probably should have been paying attention to the part of the conversation where he agreed to bring Stiles home for Christmas to meet the family.

My World Is Filled With Cheer And You by bleep0bleep | 10.8K

“It was a last minute decision. Single parents with children draw attention to themselves in this type of neighborhood, and this department didn’t have a big budget to relocate all the werewolf and werewolf sympathizers that were targeted on this list. We’ve combined a lot of our relocation assignments. It ended up working out that another family, Mr. Stilinski and his son, looked like a good fit for you guys, so you’ll be sharing a home with them for the time being.” Markowski grins at him. “Congratulations! You’re married!”

The Christmas Raffle by mikkimouse | 10.3K | Explicit

Every year, the royal Hale family raffles off a Christmas dinner with Prince Derek to raise money for charity. But this year, the winner is the second chance Derek didn't know he was looking for.

With A Little Christmas Magic by Ashabadash | 10.6K

Stiles is jobless this Christmas and as a last resort, is stuck playing one of Santa’s elves at the mall. The job is a bust, and Stiles isn’t really in the Christmas mood, until he finds salvation in the Starbucks at the food court, not only in hiding from kids, but in one very sexy barista named Derek. ((Or: In Wich Stiles in an Elf and Derek is a Christmas Coffee Magician))

#asks #sterek fics #ficrecs #christmas #christmas fics #christmas 2022

[ladamedusoif]

Books (Professor!Ben x OFC Lydia)

A Merry Fic-Mas - December 14

Part of A Merry Fic-Mas: A Holiday Fic Calendar - click for masterlist.

Follow @ladameecrit for my writing updates!

Pairing: Professor!Ben x OFC!Lydia (part of the Visiting universe)

Word count: 848

Warnings: Language, angst, pining

Rating: Teen

Summary: What’s the harm of imagining an alternative future, when you’re lonely this Christmas?

This Fic-Mas story can be read as an add-on/deleted scene to Chapter 8 of Visiting, 'Sister Winter'.

Iceland has this thing called Jolabokaflod - literally, “book flood”. It can mean the rush of new books published for Christmas gifts, or it can mean the tradition associated with them. 

Put simply, the idea is that on Christmas Eve, you exchange books with your nearest and dearest. And then everyone snuggles up in bed, armed with hot chocolate and candy, and reads their new book. 

It sounds like heaven. 

The book flood tradition pops into your mind as you place a neatly-wrapped selection of books under the tree at your parents’ house on Christmas Eve. And with it, a pang, and another thought. 

Ben would love that. 

“Fuck,” you mutter to yourself, trying to fend off the thoughts of him. “I think it’s time for bed.”

You creep up the stairs, last one to turn in for the night, and nestle in with your hot water bottle. 

You wish he was keeping you warm, girl. 

“Fuck.”

Sleep doesn’t come easy. And you begin to imagine, to let yourself daydream (if one can call it that) about an alternative reality, an alternative future, if only for the night. 

It is Christmas, after all. It’s canonically a time for what might have beens, for counter-factuals. What was A Christmas Carol, if not that? And - even more obviously - what of It’s A Wonderful Life?

Alright, you think, maybe it’s not quite the same. Clarence the Angel had to show George Bailey how much better he made the world, and how wonderful his life actually was. And Dickens showed Scrooge terrible things, to help him change - a far cry from the cosy scene you were about to conjure up. 

Still, the point stands. What if things were different? What if things could be different? 

You close your eyes and let your mind wander, telling yourself it’s just idle fantasy. It’s not hurting anyone. Right?

So indulge. Find comfort in thinking about how it might be, could have been. Imagine the comfort of books, of warmth, of him.

You had thought for a long time about the book for Ben. Eventually, you settled on a personal favourite, one that reflected your personality, your interests, yourself: The Belly of Paris, by Émile Zola. You knew he hadn’t read it - “just Thérèse Raquin and Germinal”, he’d told you as you raved about Zola’s books - and you wanted to see what he thought. 

The edition is a recent translation, a handsome paperback, and you wrap it up in brown paper and add a length of dark red ribbon, placing it under the tree to await Christmas Eve. 

The next day, it’s joined by a matching book-shaped gift: this time wrapped in dark green paper, your name written in his distinctive handwriting on an old-fashioned gift tag. 

Christmas Eve is idyllic: mulled wine, old movies, talking and preparing food for the next day’s meal as the snow falls softly outside. By about 8 that evening, you’re settled cosily on the couch and your eyes land on the little packages. 

“Time for book flood, I think.”

Ben smiles as you reach under the tree and retrieve the gifts. “You want to open them here?”

“I’d rather do it in bed, baby. C’mon, grab some hot chocolate.” 

He follows you upstairs to bed, making you giggle as he purrs in your ear: “Gonna make you read soooooo much, Lyd. We’re gonna read so hard.”

You wiggle your eyebrows at him as you join in the suggestive jokes, pulling him close to you. “Well, you know I can keep reading for hours, Benjamin.”

You can. And you do. 

Ben’s book gift to you is a gorgeous vintage copy of Love in the Time of Cholera, which you clutch to your chest in delight. He opens his parcel carefully, a wide smile spreading across his face as he recognises the title. 

“Émile. Of course.”

And now it’s just the two of you, side by side in bed, the only sounds the occasional crackle from the tall candles you’d lit in the bedroom, one or both of you sipping your hot cocoa, and the turning of the pages. 

Without lifting his eyes from Zola, Ben’s left hand finds your right, and holds it: safe, secure. Your thumb traces over his tattoo, making him hum quietly with pleasure. 

“Imagine if we hadn’t figured things out”, you muse, eyes still fixed on Garcia Marquez. 

Ben turns and looks at you, eyes warm and expression most serious. “Not figuring things out was never an option.”

When you wake in the grey light of Christmas morning, it takes a moment for you to remember.

The pain hits you all over again. The fantasy - simplistic and all as it might have been - had been too convincing, and facing reality feels even harder. 

You can hear your family already waking and pottering about the house, little nieces stampeding out of the spare room they’re sharing with your sister and brother-in-law for the holidays. 

Craving the warmth of a familiar hand on yours, you turn over and cry into the pillow. 

#a merry fic-mas #holiday fic calendar #mr ben snl #mr ben au #professor!ben #professor ben x OFC #visiting fic #visiting inspo #mr ben x ofc #mr ben fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedrostories

[tickle-bugs]

If prompt requests are still open, I have a beetlejuice one! We all know Adam is a huge jokester. I like to imagine that Adam and Barbara like to play around and see who can make Lydia laugh the hardest. Adam is always winning with his jokes, so Barbara decided to take matters in her own hands and tickle Lydia since the game just said to make Lydia laugh, but never said it could only be jokes. Adam accused Barbara of cheating and the jumps on her and tickles her and Lydia. Sorry if this doesn’t make sense lol feel free to disregard it if it doesn’t make sense or if prompt requests are closed. Thanks!

Okay, I Believe You

Summary: After a long drought of joy, the Maitlands hold a competition to see who can make Lydia laugh first. No Beetlejuice AU where Lydia summons the Maitlands on accident while trying to bring her mom back.

Something that Barbara will always love about her husband is his unflappable sense of joy. His light never wavers. As a bit of a cynic, she used to take it for granted, but now…his light is the single-most important blessing a ghost could ask for. 

Even now, doing a crossword from almost twelve years ago, Adam’s still smiling. She’s watching him delight himself every time he figures out an answer and it should be more heartwarming than it is, but her mind keeps drifting. 

She flips through one of the Deetz’s photo albums. Dozens of pictures of Lydia, lovingly arranged, spell the story of her childhood. A wobbly, gap-toothed toddler in too-big rain boots grows into a shaggy, unabashedly weird child. Smiling. 

“Do you think Lydia likes us?” Barbara’s gaze turns towards the attic door. Lydia’s trapped downstairs at one of her father’s real estate dinners. Her absence guts Barbara a bit. 

“Of course, honey. Yesterday, she said we were ‘pretty okay’, remember? That’s a big upgrade from ‘tolerable’!” He straightens out the newspaper and watches her over it. She averts her eyes.

“Yeah, maybe.” Barbara chews on her thumb. “Sometimes I wonder if she wished she’d gotten her mom back, instead of us.”

Wordlessly, Adam stands and folds her into a hug. She tucks into the frigid crook of his neck and sighs. Even in death, they fit together perfectly.

“I think—“ He pauses to run his fingers through her hair— “that Lydia shows her affection much differently from other people. We shouldn’t take her normal as anything strange.”

“You’re right.” Barbara sighs. “It’s just…when I think of her, I think of her frowning. Even with all these pictures, I can’t imagine her smile. Her joy.” 

“Tell ya what. I’ll get her to crack a smile and you’ll see what I mean.” Adam leans back a bit to catch Barbara’s eye. 

“You think you can make her smile?” She looks up, sliding her hands to his waist. 

“I’ll do you one better. I’ll make her laugh.” He grins. 

“So confident. Maybe I’ll beat you to the punch.” She raises her brow. He laughs heartily.

“You’re on.” Adam sticks out his hand to shake and Barbara takes it. 

….

A dreary scene unfolds at the dining room table. Real estate execs politely choke down Delia’s food as Charles attempts to dazzle them with his nightmare house. Maxie Dean seems to be the only one enjoying himself--his loud, grating guffaw bursts out every few minutes. A giant taxidermy bear, poised and ferocious, rattles on its stand behind him. The giant red bow on it threatens to slip free. 

Lydia, wearing a frilly yellow nightmare of a dress, busies herself with trying to kill Delia with her eyes. The pointed impact of her silverware against the near-inedible steak on her plate sets a pace for the whole affair.  

“Hey, Lydia.” Adam leans on the back of Lydia’s chair. Immediately, she sits up straighter. 

“What are you guys doing down here? They’ll see you!” Lydia hisses under her breath. When the table breaks out in mechanical laughter, she rolls her eyes. 

Barbara thinks of the time she walked in on Charles and Delia and shudders.

“They definitely can’t see us. Don��t worry about it.” Barbara pats her shoulder.

“We just had to visit our favorite occult expert.” Adam ruffles her hair. Delia looks over curiously. Lydia glares until she turns away. 

“This seems like a drag.” Barbara surveys the table. “What’s with the bear?”

“That wasn’t always there? I thought that was one of your dad’s…choices.” Adam squints at it. Lydia sighs.

“Gift from Maxie. Kill me now,” Lydia mutters, flicking a piece of rubbery steak across the table. When it hits the plate of the agent across from her, she levels him with a challenging stare.

“Well, I can’t do that, but…bear with me.” Adam gestures to the bear with a mischievous grin. 

A bowler hat lifts off of the hat rack and bobs through the air, ducking behind ugly sculptures and chandeliers to avoid prying eyes. It lands haphazardly atop the bear’s head. Adam gestures with more enthusiasm. 

Lydia snorts quietly.

“I’d offer him some of this steak, but…it seems he’s already stuffed.” Adam scrunches his nose and an apple floats into the bear’s open mouth. Lydia ducks her head to hide her smile. 

“What do you think a bear’s favorite constitutional amendment is?” Adam whispers, already chuckling at himself. “The right to bear arms. He’s already halfway there!” 

Lydia rolls her eyes with deadly force, but she’s still smiling. Barbara puts a hand over Adam’s mouth before he can gear up for another unbearable joke. 

“Okay, my turn.” Barbara grins mischievously. 

Maxie Dean taps a knife against his glass for the attention of the table. All eyes turn to him and the bear. 

Barbara flicks her wrist and a vinyl on the other side of the room slips free. It lowers itself onto the record player and the needle drops harshly. A gentle beating of drums fills the room. 

“Whoa, well that was…convenient—“ He looks uneasily towards the turntable—“but I love some mood music.”

When Maxie next opens his mouth, it’s not his squeaky voice that leaves him. Instead, in a guttural shout, he booms:

“DAAAY-O!”

The dining room goes quiet, save for the record. Maxie clears his throat. Lydia’s eyes widen. 

“Sorry, I’m not sure what--me say day me say day me say daaaayyy-o--”

Chaos erupts in the dining room. Harry Belafonte’s crooning voice fills the space as everyone but Lydia is forced to their feet. A conga line of disgruntled real estate mooks chugs around the table. Charles stiffly beats an ice bucket like a drum. The bear rocks around the room on its stand, shimmying with the music. Delia and Maxie spin like tops. 

Lydia sits at the perfect center of the storm, watching the whole thing with a gaping grin. Barbara waits for even a chuckle of disbelief, but all she gets is:

“Make Delia put the fruit bowl on her head.”

… 

“I can’t believe that didn’t work!” Adam pathetically kicks a pile of their junk and shakes a few things loose. A magic eight ball rolls across the attic floor and disappears in some far off corner. 

“Honey, you’ll have to do better than a hat on a bear.” Barbara snorts. “I’m shocked my plan didn’t work.”

“...you are?” Adam raises his eyebrow. Barbara swats his arm. 

“I brought the roasted pig to life and made it chacha! That’s precisely her sense of humor.” 

Lydia comes up into the attic humming. The door squeaks but doesn’t shut behind her. 

“That was awesome.” She sighs happily and twirls. “Almost made wearing this dishrag of a dress worth it.”

“I think you look positively haunting.” Barbara twirls Lydia under her arm, trying to shake a giggle out of an already-silly mood. No dice. Lydia gives a playful curtsy and flops down on a milk crate.

The attic door creaks open and Delia tumbles in. The levity evaporates. 

“Why are you poking around up here?” Lydia scowls. 

“I was not poking, I was…observing the feng shui of the attic stairs.” Delia sniffs and dusts herself off. She steps tentatively into the attic, looking at the various piles of Maitland-Deetz junk with distaste. 

“What do you want? I’m busy.” Lydia taps her foot against the floorboards. Delia approaches her gently. 

“Have you ever read Matilda?” Delia asks loftily. Lydia glares at her hard enough to elicit a squeak of fear. 

“In that charming novella, the titular young heroine develops…supernatural abilities under extreme emotional stress. But ultimately she uses them to rid herself of her greatest enemy and becomes a hero.” Delia gestures fervently at Lydia and receives a blank stare in return. 

“So does Carrie. What’s your point?”

“Look, when I was a youth…I often felt trapped and holed up. I know you must feel that way now, in our new house—“ 

“You think I’m trapped in here with you? You’re trapped in here with me. This is my house.”  Lydia leaps to her feet suddenly. The motion destabilizes a pile of junk at the end of the room. An old lamp falls over. 

“Lydia--” Delia swallows nervously. Adam, seizing the moment, rattles the shutters and piles of clutter. Barbara grins at him. He winks. 

“This can’t be happening.” Delia’s eyes dart around. Adam nudges the magic eight ball towards her. It stops at her feet. Outlook not so good.

“Perception is reality, right? You said it yourself.” Lydia stalks towards her. 

“Hang on, kiddo,” Barbara murmurs in Lydia’s ear, then concentrates. Lydia’s feet rise slowly off the ground as she levitates. She squeaks in surprise, then resolves her face back into murderous mischief. 

“Leave this place!” Lydia shouts, and Adam flings a cross stitch kit from a high shelf. Delia yelps and scrambles backwards. She looks up at Lydia in terror. 

Is this healthy for their relationship long-term? No. Is it fun? Absolutely. 

Delia screams and flees the attic, falling down a few stairs by the sound of it. Adam slams the door shut behind her. 

Lydia grins, bright and free, and it’s the most distinct show of joy they’ve seen from her…ever. Much like the pictures gathering dust up here, she’s radiant. But…still no laughter. Barbara’s not above admitting when she’s desperate. 

“You can put me down now.” Lydia twists to peer at her, still bobbing in place. Barbara chews the inside of her cheek. If this doesn’t work, nothing will. 

“Remember, you can’t kill me if I’m already dead,” she murmurs, then skitters her fingers over Lydia’s stomach. 

Lydia giggles, then cackles, kicking her legs where she still floats in the air. 

The Maitlands gasp in unison--Barbara in sheer joy and Adam in betrayal. 

“B-Barbara!” Lydia throws her head back as she laughs. Barbara squeezes her sides once, gently, and she squeals, shaking with the force of her laughter. Barbara thinks back to the photo albums--Lydia has her mother’s smile. 

“I didn’t think this would work.” Barbara’s hand passes through Lydia by accident and her voice leaps an octave or five. Lydia scrambles for her hand and pulls it out of her stomach. 

“That’ssobad,” Lydia gasps out, giggling like a maniac. Her eyes glitter with sheer joy as she squeezes Barbara’s hand. She almost seems to be waiting for something. 

Oh. How sweet. 

Barbara scuttles her fingers up Lydia’s ribs and her voice completely drops out. She hides her face in her hands but it does nothing to dim the room. It takes her a moment to uncurl once the tickling stops, but Adam catches the flash of disappointment that she tries to smother. 

Lydia floats back down, bewildered and bright pink, as Barbara takes a victory lap around her husband. 

“I win! Yes!” Barbara floats straight off the ground in a joyous little spin. Adam splutters and gestures at her. She sticks her tongue out at him. He splutters louder. 

“You are disqualified for eternity--” 

“On whose authority--” She snickers. 

“What is happening?” Lydia throws an old pillow directly through both of them. It thumps uselessly to the ground. 

“We were having a little contest to see if we could make you laugh. I won.” Barbara grins. Adam growls and starts reeling her into his arms. She gasps and starts trying to worm away. 

“You did not win, you cheated--”

“You guys are so…weird. Why do you care if I smile?” Lydia’s nose wrinkles with the force of her thoughts. She doesn’t look upset, which is promising, but she’s quickly reaching neon levels of blush. Her teenage need to look cool is very visibly warring with her smile. 

“Well, kiddo--” Adam speaks smoothly while wrestling with a giggling Barbara-- “We care about you. Is that such a radical concept?” 

As Lydia stands there, quietly bowled over that someone would look at her with such care, Adam busies himself with tickling his wife within an inch of her undead life. Barbara’s laughter floods the attic, the lights flickering in time with the music of it.

It’s so simple to them, Lydia thinks. Joy. 

“You gonna stand there like a ghost or are you gonna help?” Adam grins, lifting Barbara clear off the ground. She shrieks in surprise and starts stumbling her way through bargaining. Lydia coos at her mockingly and accepts Adam’s invitation. As she approaches, Barbara starts talking faster, and Lydia’s heart warms. 

“Wait, guys, we can talk about this--”

Adam buries her face into her neck and she squeals, somehow higher pitched than Lydia. Barbara throws her head back to laugh and it’s warm in its familiarity. Lydia dismisses the memories swirling like watercolors at the edges of her mind, instead opting to tase Barbara’s ribs. She snorts through her next peal of laughter, tossing her head from side to side as she tries to hide. The snorts find her anyway. 

Adam and Lydia exchange a mischievous look. 

Adam descends on one side, Lydia on the other, and Barbara giggles so violently that she phases directly through the floor. Adam and Lydia burst out laughing, leaning on each other for support. Barbara trudges back up the attic stairs, grumbling, and it sets them off again. 

“Next time, we’re setting up rules.” Adam wipes his eyes.

“Next time I’m sending you through the floor,” Barbara fires back, wiggling her fingers in his direction. Adam yelps and disappears entirely. 

Lydia’s too busy laughing at him to acknowledge the flutter of excitement at ‘next time’, but she’s overjoyed that it’s there.

#my fics #beetlejuice musical #ticklish!lydia #ticklish!barbara #lydia deetz #barbara maitland #adam maitland #they're a family your honor #im in love with barbara and it shows i fear #also sorry for delia's voice being so weird i remembered that catherine o'hara plays her in the movie and i couldn't stop thinking of moira #from schitt's creek of course

[alwayzraven]

Kardeşlerim Ep 99

Aybike went out to get some air and she saw the others, they just got back from Lydia's house. Asiye asked her if Berk is still upset with her. Aybike told her that they broke up. Asiye told her to tell him the truth about Elif being his sister but Aybike told her that it wasn't just that. She told her that Ayla did something bad and that her mom is also involved. She told her she can't explain to Berk why she is avoiding him.

Aybike:"Berk thought I wanted to beak up with him. Why would I want to break up with him? I love him so much".

Aybike:"I wish I never found out about this"

Asiye comforted her 🥺❤️

Aybike couldn't sleep, she was sitting in the living room. Oglucan asked Aybike if Berk did something to her but she said that she was the one who did something to him, it was her fault.

Ayla has a friend in Milan who sent her picture of a school her daughter goes to and Ayla showed them to Berk. Berk wasn't interested. Ayla was talking about looking for a house for them there and Elif came into the room. Elif asked them why they suddenly stopped talking when they saw her and Ayla told her that they didn't. Elif then went to make breakfast. Berk asked Ayla when she would tell Elif about them leaving. Ayla said she doesn't know. Berk told her that she has to tell her asap so Elif can plan accordingly. Ayla said that Elif got used to them and even her and Berk don't fight anymore. Berk said that she is actually a nice person. It's nice to see that Berk and Elif's relationship got better but I hope he finds out that she is his sister soon.

The Erens arrived to school before Berk. Aybike was looking for him in the lobby. Usually, he comes early and waits for her but this time he wasn't there 🥺 When Berk came, he said good morning to them and left. He didn't look at Aybike.

Aybike:"He didn't even look at my face. Is this how it's going to be from now on?".

Berk was sitting at the cafeteria telling Maher about what happened between him and Aybike and Maher didn't understand anything. I really miss Doruk 😭 He would've told him "Berko, don't worry, everything will be okay". Then Asiye came and told him that Aybike needs a literature book that she couldn't find at the library but Berk had it with him and he got mad. He called her childish bc she didn't come herself to talk to him and chose to send Asiye. Ngl, this scene was so funny to watch 😂 He was complaining about Aybike's behavior and Asiye stood there listening to him and she didn't know what to do 😂

Berk was about to leave school. It was raining. He took out his umbrella. Aybike was also about to leave and she saw Berk standing in the rain. Then she saw the yellow umbrella he was holding. 

Flashback scene: Berk and Aybike were leaving the school together and it was raining outside.

Berk:"Wait, wait, my love, look what I have here" and he got his umbrella out of his bag “Ta-da!”

Aybike:” You have an umbrella with you?”

Berk:”I bought it when I went to France but I am using it for the first time with you so it has become even more valuable to me. This became romantic by the way”

THIS LOOK RIGHT HERE! What is this? It screams I want to kiss you so bad 🔥🔥🔥

Aybike:”It didn’t become romantic. Don’t say things like that, I think it became very scary”

Berk:”Why would you say that? If anyone took a photo of us standing like this right now, it would clearly be the cover of a romantic movie."

Aybike:”Okay Berk. I don’t like these things. What do I have to say to make you understand that?”

Berk:”I know my love, I know that very well so let’s do this: I am going to stand here and scream ”I love you” so I can close the book of romance today”

Aybike:”if this will be the last thing you do…..”

Then Berk gave her the umbrella and his bag and stood under the rain. Aybike told him that he will get drenched by the rain and tried to cover him with the umbrella but he told her not to do that. 

Aybike”Okay, hurry up”

Berk cleared his throat.

Berk:”I love you!”

Aybike:”Okay”

Berk:”I love you”

Aybike:”Berk, okay, okay, me too”

Berk:”then you scream it too”

Aybike:”Okay, I just said it, I love you”

Berk:”I can’t hear you, my love”

Aybike:”I love you”

Berk (asking her to repeat after him):”I love you too”

Aybike screaming:”Okay, I love you too! I am leaving, are you coming?”

Berk:”I love you, my Aybike”

Aybike was looking around her. I think she was shy 😂

Berk:”Attaman school, I love this girl, Aybike Eren, so much”

Aybike:”Okay I am leaving!”

Then she started walking away

Berk:”Come over here”

Then he hugged her and kissed her ❤️

Another missed opportunity for a kiss scene 🙄

Back to present day:

Berk turned and looked at Aybike then he threw the umbrella on the ground. He left the umbrella for her because he couldn’t just give it to her since they weren’t on speaking terms and he left 🥺

Aybike looked at the umbrella and remembered how he screamed that he loved her under the rain.

Aybike:"I love you too, I still love you so much"

She picked up the umbrella and took it home.

She sat on her bed with the umbrella in her hand. She was crying. Sengul came suddenly into her room and Aybike was startled so she threw the umbrella on the ground. Sengul told her to give her the umbrella. She asked her why she had it. Aybike asked her to leave her room but Sengul said that she's not leaving until she explains to her why she had that yellow umbrella.

Aybike:"It's Berk's umbrella! Okay? Berk's umbrella! We had good memories with this umbrella but do you know what he did today? He threw it on the ground like it was trash, because he was so angry at me, because we had to break up because of you and his mom "

She thought Berk threw away the umbrella bc it reminded him of her but he left it on purpose for her bc Berk always takes care of Aybike even when they are not together 😭 

Sengul basically told her that she was exaggerating and that she didn't have to break up with Berk bc she wasn't the one who killed his mom. Aybike told her she can't look at Berk's face after Sengul took money from Ayla in exchange for her silence. Sengul stressed that she "borrowed" money from Ayla. Aybike said that no one understands her 😭 Then she hugged the forgive me bear.

I loved today's episode because they showed how Aybike was miserable without Berk. Ngl, I was waiting to see this since S3 and I can't believe it's happening. The flashback rain scene was SO PERFECT AND SO BEAUTIFUL ❤️

No teaser was released after the episode 😭 They are going to make us suffer since it's ep 100. I hope they are going to release a good tease and I hope the airport scene will be in it.

#kardeslerim #kardeşlerim #ayber #recap #turkish dizi #dizi #turkish series

[scrapyardboyfriends]

Well that was the first full episode of Emmerdale I've watched in months. Now I know why I mostly just watch it in clips on youtube these days. Haha. Did give me plenty of time to finally catch up on my art instagram feed though. So...thanks for that.

That car crash man....wow. What even was that?! Haha. That slow motion roll with all of the close ups of them floating around in the car? The music? It was way too much for me. I just kind of burst out laughing. So silly. And the dramatic music at the end that was...I don't know...supposed to like tug on the heartstrings or something??? But like...I actively want Chloe to die so like...music's not working on me.

Also through that whole scene of Mack keeping them calm while Charity and then Chloe woke up, I just kept thinking about Robron in their sunken car and how that was a significantly better scene that I actually cared about.

I felt even worse when I was watching the Lydia scenes because I just can't really help but compare it to all of the other past rape reveals we've had this show. And like...it was fine but I've heard like all of this dialogue before because they've done this story so many times now.

It also feels super jarring to keep cutting from those scenes back and forth to the Chloe/Mack/Charity stuff. The tone is just so not the same.

Also, I didn't watch any of their scenes yesterday but the whole "let's show Chloe's thoughts" thing was....a choice. Not really a good one. Haha.

The Sharma stuff also feels out of place in this week. Like why are they trying to shove all of these disparate stories together into this one week. Why not actually focus on only a couple that actually match in tone.

The Sharma stuff would play a lot better if Rishi was still alive and if they didn't arbitrarily drop the story for two months. Or if Amit didn't show up just because he had a random job in Leeds. Although who knows if that's true but still...it all just feels poorly conceived. Shocking I know.

And the Aaron stuff...sigh...haha. It was annoying hearing him obsess over Liv. How is their relationship still so irritating even after she's dead? And I mean Chas is a massive hypocrite who can still barely acknowledge that she did force Aaron to leave so she could carry on with Al. But it's not like Aaron has the moral high ground here that much when they're sitting at Wylie's where his affair with Robert killed Katie. Haha. Yes we can blame the floorboards and the caravans of the world but...they were affair casualties.

I do sort of enjoy him talking back to everyone. But I'm ready for him to be out of Wylie's and ready for us to be out of clunky exposition land where we have to rehash the last time he was there.

Good for whoever wrote this episode though, actually remembering that Marco existed. Haha. I really thought they were going to forget altogether. So long Marco. You're better off.

I did laugh when Aaron called staying the village a death wish though. Cause I mean...is he wrong? Especially this month. Haha.

Sigh. I should go watch the bypass crash just to cleanse or something.

#emmerdale complaints corner #belated live blogging #wow I haven't used that tag in ages

[jodsx1x]

hello and happy new year, my love!

may i ask you for prompt 1? hehe.

i trust you with my eyes close for this one! only this small quote already created butterflies in my stomach.

all my love for you, sweet girl <3

�� “ i love you for you. you don’t have to try be someone else, i just want you”

hi angel!! happy new year to you too, hope you’re doing well, i hope this turns out okay for you, all my love for you <33

۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵

'i just feel so insecure, lyds. the women he's been with before i- i cant compete with that' i said to lydia.

'i know you're insecure, and if i could change that i would, but all i can do is remind you of how beautiful you are. everyone thinks so! all derek can talk about nowadays is how amazing he thinks you are, so please don't let your insecurities ruin what you have with him because it's going somewhere so amazing'. she smiled softly. 'i know what malia said was uncalled for, but she didn't know you were seeing derek then- and i'm sure if she did know she would not have said it'.

ever since my lunch date with lydia, i have been replaying what she said in my head as much as i can. it helps, it really does. but my overthinking gets the better of me, causing me to cancel on yet another date with derek. i was talking with malia and lydia around a week ago, and somehow the conversation ended up on dereks past dating life. malia said, and i quote, 'i don't know how anyone could compete with braeden, though, i mean she was hot- anyone after her is bound to be a downgrade'.

i know she wouldn't have said it if she had known, but i still couldn't let it get the best of me and i started to really overthink it. she was beautiful, i can't even compare.

i feel awful, trust me. but i can't shake the idea out of my head that i'm just not good enough for him. he makes me feel beautiful, but then when i'm not with him my mind wanders and i stand in front of the mirror for hours critiquing everything about myself. i have never been a very confident person in any shape or form, but it seems to be crippling right now. i compare myself to every woman he's been with, and while most of them have been insane, that aside they were all beautiful, confident and strong women. it's killing me knowing i don't compare to any of them.

i know he knows i have been avoiding him, he has asked lydia a million times if she knows why. she hasn't told him, which i really appreciate, but it just means i'm going to have to tell him myself which makes me even more anxious. i don't even know how to bring it up, he's not even my boyfriend yet. i need to tell him soon though, because i'm worried he will end up getting bored of waiting for me.

i have been in bed all day, in my comfiest clothes and going over in my head what i'm going to say to derek. it's like i need to say a million things but i don't know how to get them out. how do you tell a guy you want to be your boyfriend that you are ridiculously insecure and wish you looked like anyone but yourself without sounding crazy? i am not sure that's possible.

i sighed, pulling out my phone ready to finally reply to his text messages. my lips curled into a small smile as i read his most recent one, 'look i have no idea what's going on, but i'm crazy about you and i'm worried about you so please text me when you can. x'

a pang of guilt hit my chest as i started typing a reply, 'please could you come over? i have to talk to you about something. x'

he replies almost immediately, 'on my way now. x'. here comes the anxiety, i jump out of bed and run to put on something a little nicer than my pyjamas. soon enough, he was here and knocking on the door aggressively. i take a deep breath as i go to answer it.

i open it and give him a small smile, not realising how much i missed him until now. he lets out a deep breath, walking inside and pulling me into his chest. i swing the door shut behind him and wrap my arms around his torso.

'god, are you okay?' he mumbles, pulling back and looking down at me. i nod a little, 'yeah, i just need to talk to you', i say as i pull him over to the couch.

'oh god are you going to end things with me now?' he says, with a small smirk to indicate he knows i'm not really going to do that. i giggle, 'obviously not'.

'well i was worried about that, because you've cancelled on about three dates now' he says, looking at me a little confused. i gulp, nodding a little, 'i know, but that's not the reason why'.

'then talk to me, baby, what's going on?' he says softly, leaning towards me a little. i sigh, looking up at him as i try to calm my nerves before speaking.

'okay- i'm just going to talk and it might sound a little crazy or messy but it's the only way i'm going to be able to do this-'

'hey, hey, it's okay, take your time' he says in a gentle voice, smiling softly at me and taking my hand in his big one. i smile at him, taking note of how soft he is with me compared to everyone else. i have seen him with other women, (i did not enjoy that), and i don't think he was ever like this with them.

'you've known me for a while before we started dating- well not dating but going on dates and stuff i-' i stop with flushed cheeks as he smirks at me. 'i have always been really insecure, and i'm sure you've noticed this before, but the other day malia said something that really got to me and i started overthinking everything- thinking that i'm not beautiful enough for you, or i'm not confident enough or strong enough', i say in one breath, trying to avoid eye contact with him.

'look at me, what did she say exactly?' he asks, moving closer to me on the sofa and rubbing small circles on the back of my hand to reassure me.

'she said something about braeden' i say, and his face dropped. 'she said how anybody after her would be a downgrade because she was so beautiful' i gulp, trying to fight back my eyes watering. 'and i know she probably wouldn't have said it if she'd have known, but it still got to me and i keep thinking it's true- i am not as beautiful as her a-'

'stop.' he says, looking at me with a serious face. 'i don't want to hear you say that ever again, you are as beautiful as her, in fact you're even more beautiful than her' he says, and i shake my head. 'don't disagree with me, i'm telling you, you know i'm not lying'. 'i think you are the most beautiful, strong, sweetest girl i have ever met. and i hate that you think you aren't good enough for me, you are too good for me' he says, keeping hard eye contact with me to make sure i know he's being truthful. i trust him.

'thank you' i mumble. 'i'm sorry for avoiding you i just didn't know what to do' i say, putting my hand on his thigh and smiling at him a little. 'i was sat here all day thinking about ways i could make myself look more like her or act more like her' i breathe out a laugh, shaking my head.

'are you kidding me? god i wish you'd have called me sooner i hate to think of you here all sad' he deeply sighs. 'you do not need to be like her at all, i don't want that. i love you for you, you don't have to try and be someone else, i just want you'. he says, his breathing a little heavier.

'you- you love me?' i say, staring at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. he loves me? he loves me. HE loves ME?

'yeah, I do' he gulps. 'do you love me?'.

i could squeeze him. he looks so scared and cute, his eyes narrowing slightly as he waits for my reply. i nod, putting him out of his misery and agreeing with him.

'yeah, i really do' i say, my face feels super hot and my palms sweaty. he smiled, lips pursing as he tried to hide it. i jump forward, wrapping my arms around his neck and my hands playing with his hair.

'thank you' i whisper, pressing a little kiss on his neck.

'you don't thank me for loving you' he whispers back, his arms wrapping around my waist and pulling me onto his lap. i pull back from the hug, my hands resting on both sides of his face. he leans forward, attaching his lips onto mine in a soft kiss. i will never get tired of kissing him. i hum against his lips, missing them since i haven't seen him in a while.

i pull back for a little breath, smiling at him and resting my forehead on his. 'if you ever feel like this again, you tell me okay?' he says, 'i don't want you feeling like this on your own'.

'okay, i promise i will' i say smiling at him.

'you know, every time i have been with a woman and she promises me something, or says to trust her, her heart always skipped or changed. i always knew they were lying, every single one of them. but yours hasn't done it once' he says, eyes on mine.

'and it never will' i smile, leaning in to kiss him again.

۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵ ۵

i hope this was okay beautiful! thankyou so much for the request, all my love to you <33.

[melanie-ohara]

I'll Be Your All For Now

Whumpuary2024, Day 27 - Prompt: Sleep Deprivation

Lord Pendleton is drunk, and Wallace Higgins takes it out on Cecelia

I hate Wallace. Fuck Wallace.

AO3 Here

It had been easier before young Lady Emily had arrived. Wallace had only ever insisted on Master Pendleton's room being perfectly cleaned and the bar neatly swept, and didn't mind if the other rooms gathered a little dust. The soon to be Empress changed all that. With her child's curiosity taking her all over the Hound Pits, Wallace insisted that every room as well as the courtyard and the street outside be spotless at all times. Of course, Wallace didn't muck in himself: he was a butler, which limited his responsibilities to bringing Lord Pendleton wine and listening to him rave drunkenly about his brothers. Cecelia knew he had to keep his fingernails clean or Pendleton would throw a tumbler at his head, but she wished he would at least pretend he felt bad about putting her and Lydia to work at all hours of the day.

The first time he made her work through the night, Lady Emily had tripped on a stone and skinned her knee. The girl had hopped back to her feet and carried on playing, but Wallace was insistent it not happen again, and he made Cecelia walk the yard all night with a lantern, collecting any stone that might do the young lady injury and tossing it in the Wrenhaven river. By the time she finished, the sun had risen over the water and, despite the beauty and tranquility of the river at dawn, she was already late to start preparing breakfast. After almost thirty-six hours, she collapsed into her bunk with her eyes aching to close. 

It didn't stop. Pendleton grew more and more belligerent the more he drank and the more assassinations he ordered, and Wallace took the brunt of his short temper. The day Pendleton bruised his face, he ordered Cecelia to sweep the building from top to bottom twice, which meant waiting for Lord Corvo to wake and leave for his nightly excursion to the city. Lydia was safe from his ire, of course - she had Havelock's favour, after helping him run the bar for so long. She even pretended not to know the Overseer Martin spent most nights in the Admiral's quarters, when she wasn't there herself. Wallace's ire grew stronger and his reasons for keeping Cecelia working at all hours became less and less convincing, until she finally decided he must just like doing it - he liked it when she could barely keep her eyes open, or fell asleep standing up and leaning on a broom in the cellar. Maybe it made him feel better to pass on Pendleton's ire. He had never liked being reminded that ultimately he was lower than the nobles he served, so he had decided to show Cecelia that she was lower than him. And because she was the bottom rung of the ladder, with nothing below her but the rats, there was nothing she could do about it except suffer.

After a week, Cecelia barely knew what she was doing any more. Her body moved mechanically - certainly stiffly enough to be some kind of Sokolov automaton - while her mind drifted. She barely even slept when she did make it to bed now, since Wallace could call on her at any time to clean the toilets or unblock a sink, or go down into the wine cellar and look for a bottle she'd never be able to find because she couldn't read the labels. She lost track of time, and Wallace chastised her for sweeping the same spot for an hour, or staring slackjawed at a wall while holding a cleaned glass. He never raised his voice, which she thought was strange, as Pendleton was always screaming. Wallace's cruelty was quiet. 

"Cecelia, isn't it?"

The voice that drifted to her through the haze was soft and polite. She'd heard Callista Curnow speak from time to time, around the grounds of the pub, but she mostly only talked to the nobility. As a governess, she was above the other servants, though technically her duties fell under Wallace's purview. She probably wasn't even aware of how tyrannical the butler had become.

"Yes miss," Cecelia said, standing up straight and going to put her hands behind her back politely, only to find she was holding a mop. "Oh," she said.

"Are you quite alright?" Callista asked, resting her hand on Cecelia's shoulder.

She managed a weak smile. "Yes miss," she said. Glancing around, she remembered that Wallace had sent her to mop the floor at the base of the stairs. As Callista nodded and took a step back, Cecelia went to dip the mop back in the water bucket. She knocked it over instead, and the brown water sloshed out over Callista's shiny black shoes. 

Callista gasped in shock as it splashed up her legs and hopped backwards out of the water's reach. Cecelia stared at it for a moment, and then broke.

"I'm so sorry!" she wailed, "Miss Callista, I'm such a clumsy fool, I didn't mean it!"

"No, no, it's quite alright," Callista said, but it was too late now. Wallace would have Cecelia start over the second he found out, and probably a whole list of other chores too that would keep her so busy she'd have to choose between a few minutes' fitful sleep or getting something to eat.

She let out a choked wail and fell to her knees in the dirty water, but still reached out for the bucket. Maybe if she could clean it up quickly, it wouldn't be so bad. Unless Callista told Wallace about her ruined shoes, of course. The governess was picking her way gingerly across the floor, trying to use only the tips of her shoes to step in the water as she came to Cecelia's side.

"Please don't tell Wallace," she managed to gasp out through heaving sobs. "I have to get it sorted out."

She was surprised when Callista kneeled in front of her and took her hands, pushing them firmly away from the toppled bucket and into Cecelia's lap. "I promise I won't," she said. "Now hush, it's only a spilled bucket."

"No, you don't understand!" Cecelia moaned, but Callista shook her head. 

"I understand you're upset, Cecelia," she said softly. 

She peered at her face, as if she was seeing her for the first time. Callista had three spotless and identical uniforms, which Lydia was in charge of washing. Cecelia only had the one jacket and trousers, and two threadbare shirts she had darned until there was almost nothing left of the original fabric. Where Callista's skin was smooth and clean, Cecelia's was pockmarked and filthy from a lifetime of small meals and endless work. And then there were her eyes. They were constantly bloodshot now, and ringed with circles so dark it looked like the makeup she had always wanted but never been able to afford. 

"You must be exhausted," she said. 

Cecelia shook her head and looked away from her eyes. "I'm fine, miss," she said. "I can still work."

Callista stood up suddenly, and held out her hand for Cecelia to take. "Not a chance. Come with me."

The only way to access Lady Emily's tower was through the Royal Protector's room, and Cecelia was terrified of tripping and waking him as Callista led her through by the wrist. She didn't dare look down as they walked over the bridge, which was built by Piero but still looked rickety and unstable, and she could scarcely stand it as Callista let go of her hand and left her to sway in the breeze while she opened the door to the child's room.

"Hello," Lady Emily said breezily as the two of them stepped inside. She was sitting on the floor with a doll and a tea set, but she stood up when they entered. "Oh, hello," she added, with a polite wave when she saw Cecelia, who curtsied. She wasn't sure how to do it, and the girl's giggle told her she had done it wrong.

"Go and play outside, Emily," Callista said, far more firmly than Cecelia expected from someone talking to an Empress, but the child seemed happy enough to take her doll and hurry out of the room. She was humming to herself as she skipped along the rickety bridge to her Protector's room. "Now," Callista said, turning to Cecelia again. "You need rest."

The adrenaline of standing outside so close to the unprotected edge of the building over a fall high enough to kill her twice over was waning now, and Cecelia had to admit the two beds in the room looked incredibly inviting. "I can't," she protested weakly. "Wallace would - "

"Wallace is not allowed in here," Callista reminded her. "Only Lydia. I'll tell him I've sent you on an errand. Emily always needs more pencils and drawing paper after all."

Cecelia wasn't sure what to say, but she felt tears of gratitude escape her eyes and she wiped at them with her sleeve before she started sobbing again.

"There, there," Callista said, pulling her into a gentle embrace. "Get some rest," she murmurred against the shell of Cecelia's ear. "I'll have a word with Wallace."

Cecelia shook her head but couldn't bring herself to argue when she could see the bed over Callista's shoulder. It looked the way food looked to the starving. When Callista pulled away from the hug she stumbled towards it with an eagerness that would be embarrassing if she wasn't so desperate to lay down her head. Callista waited with her until she had pulled the blankets closed and settled against the pillow with a sigh. She wanted to apologise to the governess for the state of her clothes and how she would have to change the bedclothes before she herself went to bed, but before she could get the words out of her mouth, the warmth of sleep had claimed her.

Callista smiled down at a curl of red hair spilling across Cecelia's forehead, and then turned and let her sleep.

#dishonored #fanfic #writing #cecelia #callista curnow #hound pits pub #sleep deprivation #whumpuary2024 #hurt/comfort #whumpuaryno14

[mischiefashale]

If all of these people turning into mist is supposed to be an explanation for why Alison isn't dead then she should have turned into damn mist too.

I wish these guys remembered that the light comes from the same place as the music. I wish to see these battles.

Remember who you are. Is this the Lion King?

Eli wolfing out for the first time right after he loses his dad is a much better narrative.

OMG Allison is about to push Scott off of Pride Rock bahahaha. Lion King indeed.

Of course he would stab himself instead of just knocking her out.

Jackson continues to give me life.

Peter Hale crawling around sniffing on pride Rock is going to live rent free in my head forever.

He had to be that close to the ground to smell blood? I don't even care it's just amazing.

"don't fight the Oni, kill them." Leave it to Lydia to be the voice of reason.

He knew that was the plan and still stabbed himself anyways. Oh for the love of God.

Lydias love of chemistry is showing.

How did Jackson not know that Rowan trees become mountain ash?

Okay fine I can ship Malia and parish as long as it means her getting a man who's on her level.

"Then I'm definitely not dying tonight.." lol

She should be having flashbacks to her sewing Scott up.

This shit is killing me.

That wolfsbane should have gone to his heart and killed him already.

He's definitely gonna stick his claws in her neck.

I love Derek's excitement at Eli learning to heal.

Yassss obligatory lacrosse scene.

So is BH big enough for a college or did they walk across Beacon County.

Supposed to be dead is now just "starting to become a recurring theme" STARTING!?!?!

Omfg it's been awhile since I read spoilers I forgot it's HARRIS as the big bad. HARRIS!?!?!!

I hope someone punches Jeff Davis.

Omfg I have so many better Ally resurrection stories.

Only responds to fire and the wolfsbane you shit him with! FFS

What in the fucking rewrite of canon is happening here?

You want to live or not? With a road flare? I guess it makes sense since he almost died by one oh wait and there's the flashbacks.

That is Def Stiles Jr

And then she just leaves to find her dad? Like omg maybe stick together.

Jeff Davis really has no qualms about giving big grown up feelings to emotionally stunted children.

Jackson can touch mountain ash now?

Omfg yes it is HARRIS. I can't decide if it's Pete Jackson to not remember the teacher that had a hard-on for him or not.

But I am dying at Jackson being like I was in London for all of that.

I'm also loving the look on a coach's face as soon as he see Scott McCall. "you are not ruining this for me."

HE IS NOT PLAYING LAX! NO NO NO WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE? Why is this Coaches solution?

We all know that should say number 24.

If I didn't hate this narrative so much I would think that Harris would be actually a good villain.

Coyotes breaking into the house is why Derek doesn't transform? I would most certainly think that the smell of a predator like a werewolf would have kept the coyotes at Bay.

And why wasn't Derek turning into a wolf all the time to let his son play with him and his puppy self.

I hate that this is the reason she left Stiles.

How the fuck is Harris alive? Tho?

Bahahaha Greenburg.

But really was there a reason that Scott had to join him on the field?

Of course Scott can take being stabbed legitimately in the heart and still talk but Peter gets a little cut on the hand and he's down for the count.

Omg Malia is my favorite. "Okay what do you need? You need a pep talk one of those you can do this speeches? I don't do speeches I don't do pep talks. I'm not here to boost your ego. And I'm not going to be your cheerleader. So whatever you need to do to get your shit together, you're going to do this for yourself, and you got to do this right now."

#teen wolf the movie #anti teen wolf the movie #malia tate #eli hale #allison argent #derek hale #peter hale #chris argent

[elizaellwrites]

Legacy of the Fallen- Chapter 1

Link to Prologue

Table of Contents

Accepted

Dear Mother,

We’re moving again, such a surprise, I know. It’s so tiring, every single time, and now is no different. The past four years have been just above the line of disaster, every day either packing or unpacking, some of the boxes don’t even get touched before we leave again. I just want to go back to London, I miss Lydia so much, I haven't been able to make any friends since we don't stay long enough for that to happen. I know that Father says he needs to move for his job, but I don't know how he can even begin to take it.

I'm worried about him though, he's always so jumpy. He puts on this brave face and makes a joke and later I find him leaning against a wall, staring into space with this horribly sad look in his eyes. I know that he misses you and my sister, but this sadness runs deeper than that. I think he feels like he's failed. I don't exactly know why I think that, but I can't shake that feeling. We've moved to Rochester, Minnesota in the U.S. now, I honestly think this is a good step since Father told me of how his brother lives here. They lost their daughter not too long ago too, she was only few years older than me, so I think it's a good idea to have us here.

I'm still looking for the answer of why you left and where you went, it's really begun to frustrate me. When I was little, I could just accept that you were gone, but now it's like a pebble in my shoe that I can't get out. Life overall is just a mess and continues to be, I can only hope that one day things will be normal. Whatever the heck that is.

I'll write again soon, love your daughter,

Annamarie Rose Olson

____________________________

Annamarie Olson leaned her head carelessly against the school bus window, ignoring the slight pain that jolted through her head at every crack and dent on the road. She stared at her reflection in the slightly fogged window, leaning her head back as the bus brakes engaged to pick up another kid. She still found riding a school bus to be strange, they hadn’t existed where she’d grown up.

Her long golden blonde curls closely framed her face, ever threatening to fall over her eyes at the next large bump. Her lips were pulled tight, betraying the anxiety that was stirring in her gut. Her button nose was just ever so resting against the cool glass, just enough to make the skin tingle. She met her own gaze, pursing her lips as she did so. She knew that someone was going to mention them today, they always did, every time she switched schools. Her hooded eyes weren’t the problem, neither was the dramatic upturn that caught some attention. It was the fact that no one could figure out what colour her eyes were actually supposed to be. They were ever-changing, every single colour and shade making its appearance at some point, depending on the light or her mood or whatever it was. She didn’t hate it, but really, she wished people would just stop bringing it up.

She let out a soft sigh, letting her breath fog the window further. She refocused her eyes on the pavement, creating an imaginary trail with her gaze while they drove along. Anything she could do to distract her from the inevitable pattern of going to a new school would make her day better.

Truly, it was getting old. They didn’t have much to move with just the two of them, but place after place, lifting boxes and dragging around what little furniture they hadn’t sold. She was only fifteen, and she really didn’t think she was supposed to feel old already. The one hope she held about this place, above all the rest they had been, was her uncle.

Throughout the years, her father had hardly spoken of their family at all. When he did, he always spoke of them in the past tense, leading her to believe for many years that they had no other family. So when he had told her about Joseph, his brother who was only a year older than himself, she had been confused, to say the least. She had heard him talking on the phone with him many times over the last couple of months, their conversations only ever serious or sombre. What they were talking about, however, she didn’t pry.

They had been living in Minnesota for a week at that point, and her opinion of the place was no different from many other places. Whether they stayed here or left, she just wanted to settle back down, just as they had when she was younger. She knew that her father had been a restless spirit since her mother was gone, having trusted friends watch her while he was gone for weeks at a time, sometimes coming home more disheartened than when he left. She missed him during the times he was gone, but he had always overcompensated when he came home, the affection and care he had shown her as a single father leaving her unable to hold resentment of any sort. She supposed he had waited until he deemed her old enough to travel with him, as the borderline nomadic lifestyle was not one for a kid. She had been able to see some amazing sights, however, travelling much further distances than most her age.

She shifted her posture as they pulled to another stop, knowing that they had to be nearing the end of the pickup route. The bus had already been moderately full when she had boarded, though she still had the pleasure of not having to share her seat; something she hoped would not change.

She shuffled her feet in discomfort, her fingers gripping each other in her lap. Contrary to what people in towns or smaller cities she’d lived in, growing up in a big city did not make her comfortable in crowds. They were suffocating, the clamour of voices, especially children’s, made her ears ring, and their unspoken voices in the back of her head became so loud she couldn’t pretend they weren’t there anymore. Her father had taught her that talking about the things others said without speaking aloud was considered incredibly rude by most people, and indeed whenever she accidentally brought up something that an unspoken voice had said, others acted shocked and completely disturbed, as though she’d broken the biggest rule in human society. So, she tried to ignore the continuous noise and forced it down, like everyone else was presumably doing.

It did confuse her though when some other people said that hearing unspoken voices was a bad sign of schizophrenia. How could anyone possibly know the difference between that and regular chatter? She sank in her seat, her arm brushing along the textured material of her backpack. Outside, houses continued to fly by, their designs and colours all seemingly the same. She shivered as the girl seated a few seats in front of her reached up and pulled the small window open. The blend of sweet grass and the musty rain from earlier that morning sent a fuzzy feeling through her body: the smell of spring.

The bus took a right turn, revealing the view of the school from her seat on the left side of the vehicle. She sat up in her seat, her hand unconsciously sweeping her hair back from her face, wincing slightly as her index finger caught and released a small tangle.

They passed a small, unfenced baseball field, a large grassy field rising on the edges up to the road they were now driving on. Further to the back of the field, a fenced-in sports field of some sort, with audience stands surrounding it blocked out the view of the neighbourhood behind. She turned her attention to the school itself, the cold, concrete structure nothing more than a three-story cube. It was almost comedic, how much it looked like a prison, the only pieces missing being the guards and barbed wire fences. Well, the fence around the sports field looks similar enough, she decided. As they grew closer, she could see brown brick accents in small alcoves that lined the walk along the ground floor, the only colour being a rusted blue accent under each window, all of which added insult to injury and made the building look completely bizarre.

The bus made a final left turn into the oval-shaped unloading zone, stopping just short of being in front of the only indent in the structure. As soon as they halted, every student stood and began shoving their way into the narrow aisle. Anna shouldered her backpack, the bag feeling unnaturally empty against her. She stood slowly, eyes darting to each person who passed. She knew that she was average in height at five-foot-four inches, but so many of the other students walking through easily dwarfed her.

Finally, the flow had begun to slow, only a few other others scattered throughout the vehicle being patient enough to wait. She shifted out of her seat carefully, her feet hesitating more than her head as they momentarily paused on the last step down to the pavement. A scoff and a light push on her backpack from the boy behind her caused her to take the last step, having to try and prevent herself from stumbling further as he pushed past her, jogging over to join a group of other boys who looked her age.

She continued at a slow pace away from the bus, looking around at the groups gathered around the entrance, only a few students making the journey directly into the building. She lowered her gaze, somewhat self-conscious as her mind bustled with the whispers in her head, her face suddenly scrunching up at the state of the pavement. The path made of pebbles sealed in concrete was covered in inch-wide black circles, some were brown or grey as well, but the majority were black. Newer circles of green or pink gave her the answer that she didn’t want to know, every single spot was where a student squished a piece of gum into the ground.

She raised her gaze again, trying to shove that knowledge from her active steps toward the main entrance. The doors themselves were nothing special, just a row of glass with plain concrete steps leading up to them. Above the doors, several large windows overlooked the entrance; the silhouettes of students inside could just be seen behind the glare of the sun.

A shiver ran down her spine, her muscles tightening automatically, the feeling of being watched overwhelming her senses. She glanced around, her body growing warmer under the mysterious scrutiny. A voice suddenly rose, above the rest inside her head. A clear voice amid the fray, directly into her head. Who are you?

Her breath stuttered, her pace freezing in place as her search for the gaze intensified. It had been the voice of a boy, his voice already dropped to a baritone, with an accent she couldn’t quite identify, yet seemed so familiar at the same time. She swept her gaze along the faces in the crowd, her skin itching as it finally landed on a dark-haired boy wearing all black leaning against the wall, strangely vivid golden eyes narrowed carefully at her. He almost looked like he was supposed to be in high school, his muscular build telling her immediately he was some kind of athlete. His skin was a warm amber tan, and his wavy, dark brown hair looked like he had just rolled out of bed before being hit by a windstorm. His features were sharp, narrow almond-shaped eyes observant. He was quite a bit taller than she was, probably closer to five-foot, eight. His posture was casual and curious, yet there was something about him that resembled a predator on the hunt.

Even as a redheaded girl with thick glasses and a tall skinny boy joined him there, he didn’t break his gaze, watching her even while responding to something the redhead said. She couldn’t say how, or why, but she knew the question was his.

She stared back, eyes wide, unsure of what was happening or what she was supposed to do next. She watched as he laughed, his eyes going to the redhead for only a split second before returning to her. His head tilted slightly at her, an amused tick pulling at the corner of his mouth.

She forced her gaze away, suddenly aware of how bizarre she looked, one foot frozen forward in a step she hadn’t fully taken. She mentally shook herself, continuing faster than before, pulling the door open with more force than she intended.

She paused once she made it through the second set of doors, the hallways now much busier than when she had taken her blur of a tour the week prior. Tall, thin, blue lockers lined the walls of the hallways, and to her right, the three gyms the school sported lined the entire side of the building. She glanced to where she knew the office to be, off to her left, before pulling her written-out schedule from her coat pocket. To say what had occurred outside was strange would be an understatement. Despite the many places she had gone, nothing like that had happened before. Then again, she was growing up, and her father had warned her that boys might start noticing her in different ways and that those thoughts tended to be stronger. She wasn’t sure though, something felt off. It was very direct. For the moment at least, she wanted to forget it happened, to just go on with her planned, predictable first day of meeting her new teachers and classmates that she would only know for a short while before moving on again.

She turned around the short wall that hid the stairway that rested beside the entrance, heading straight down the long staircase, her footsteps echoing in the empty, tower-like space. Her locker was in the basement, not far from the stairs. She rolled her eyes as she passed the boys’ locker room, hearing the younger kids inside yelling nonsensical insults at each other before the first class of the day began.

She glanced at the paper in her hand, following the numbers down until she reached her own. She put in the combination that her father had ever so helpfully made a song for her to remember by; forty-two, thirty, forty-six. The tune was so annoyingly catchy, she wasn’t worried about suddenly forgetting it.

The locker opened with a slight creak, the inside a muddled mess of peeling tan paint, rust, and black spray paint attempting to block out the curse words someone had carved into the back. She slid her backpack down her arm, catching the strap before it hit the floor, and hanging it on the inside hook. She then slipped her anorak off, revealing the light green jumper she wore underneath, having to push the anorak carefully around her backpack. As usual, with thinner lockers, she wondered how difficult fitting everything would be after having more than just her binder and a book inside. It didn’t matter though; she never stayed long enough for things to build up anyway.

She jumped as a blaring beep rang out through the hallway, other students hardly moving at the noise. She quickly unzipped her backpack, her schedule wrinkling slightly as it was pressed into her lower palm by her last two fingers. She pulled her binder free of the bag, the question of why she hadn’t pulled it out before putting her backpack in the locker coming to mind.

With a quick slam of the locker, she spun on her heel, lifting the paper once again. Her first class was on the top floor; in fact, most of her classes were. She went to the stairs she had gone down earlier, stopping short as she just about slammed face-first into someone dressed in black. “Sorry,” she murmured, glancing up, ready to continue on her way before stopping short.

Sharp golden eyes looked down at her, an odd look on the boy’s face. “Hi,” a small smile played on his lips.

“Hi?” She tried for a smile back, it probably came off more like a grimace. She swerved away from him, reminding herself once again to return to her plan. Ignore the weird boy.

She practically ran up the two flights of stairs, stopping as she reached the top. The large windows she had seen earlier opened up beside her. She walked along the hall until she got to the room her geography class would be in on the left side of the hall.

She sucked in a breath before crossing the threshold, posters covered the walls; historical figures, geographical sights, and nearly decade-old memes alike were stationed around the room. Rows of desks were laid out in front of her, and only a few of the seats were filled. In the back corner of the room, beside the row of windows looking out the front of the school, was a large metal desk. An older man engrossed in a book sat, calmly sipping what she guessed was coffee from a travel mug.

She approached him carefully, extremely aware of how her fingers tightened around her binder. “Sir?” She forced her voice out, holding back a wince at her awkwardness. She’d been through this enough, why hadn’t that changed yet?

The man, Mr. Wilson, immediately set his coffee down, looking up at her with raised eyebrows, extenuating the wrinkles on his forehead. “Can I help you?” He reached for a bookmark that was resting on the desktop, quickly stuffing it into the page before closing the book with an audible snap.

“I’m Annamarie,” she began. “I’m new.” She stopped, waiting for him to take off from there.

“Oh yes,” he reached for a pile of paperwork, flipping through them quickly before finding what he was looking for. “We’re in the middle of learning about South Asia currently,” he glanced at her, holding out the small pile of papers in his hand. “Keep up the best you can, we’ll see about whether you’re able to take the test we have at the end of the week.”

She nodded, only half paying attention as a random pop song began playing over the loudspeaker. She blinked in confusion before turning her attention back to her teacher.

“Your seat will be third from the back over there,” he gestured to the last row beside a short row of cabinets that sat along the wall that connected to the hall. She gave a nod and a small ‘thank you’ before starting to turn. “Thank you, Ms. Olson,” he stood from his chair, grunting a little at the motion. She paused at the use of her last name, unusual in her experiences in schools as of late.

She went to her seat, sinking down into her chair and placing her binder centred before her. She folded her hands in her lap just as a flood of students began to come in, chair after chair being filled across the classroom. She fiddled with her fingers, wondering if this was the type of teacher to introduce her as a new student or not. Most were, but there was the occasional blessing of them letting her fade into the background without such a spectacle.

Her hope for any possibility of an easy class period was crushed as right when the loud beep that signified class had started, the boy with the golden eyes rushed through the door. “Mr. Samuels,” Mr. Wilson walked between the far two rows of seats, not even looking at the boy. “Pushing your luck again, I see.”

“It hasn’t failed me yet,” the boy let out a laugh, taking a step towards the row of seats she was seated in before stopping. Surprise filled his gaze when he looked at her, one eyebrow quirking up before the amused smile she had seen him with earlier returned. Anna couldn’t help the narrowing of her eyes, the boy’s accent catching her memory. It sounded so familiar, yet she couldn’t identify it.

Mr. Wilson turned, frowning at the boy who was just standing in place. “Did you forget where your seat is, Mr. Samuels?”

“Nope,” the boy had the decency to flush slightly as a couple of giggles came from somewhere in the room. He continued the path until he stopped at the seat directly in front of her own. Great.

Just my luck… she thought as he looked over his shoulder to give her another glance.

“I’m Jacob,” he whispered, giving her a small grin.

“Anna,” she mumbled.

“I have a feeling we’ll keep running into each other,” his grin grew slightly before he turned back to the front.

She stared at the back of his head for a second longer, wondering what she did to deserve this. This is going to be a long couple months.

____________________________

Anna’s day seemed to drag by, with each of her teachers doing exactly as she predicted them to do. What she hadn’t expected was for Jacob to be in three of the four hours before lunch. He had seemed to appoint himself to be her personal tour guide for the day, easily keeping pace with her.

She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to be creeped out, flattered or annoyed; maybe a bit of each. He kept asking questions that didn’t seem to make any sense, about where she had lived, her family, et. cetera. After him doing this for a while, she just stopped paying attention. She couldn’t figure out why he was so intrigued, she couldn’t be that interesting.

She now found herself with a tray of food, momentarily paused as she looked across the crowded cafeteria. Each table seemed to have its established group, some reflecting the classic clique tropes that were so often seen in so many shows and films, while others were harder to identify. As many times as she had done this, it never got any easier.

The cafeteria itself was decently sized, based in the basement of the school. Large windows looked out to a small blacktop, the large green field behind the school beyond it. Behind her, students were still filing into four separate lines for food, flowing in from the open connection to the hallway, some cutting between tables while others passed through evenly spaced openings. The walls were plain white, excluding a strange mural that covered the far wall: different foods spilling out of a lunchbox, faces painted onto each.

Friend groups were so often made within the first couple weeks of the school year, leaving her to fend for herself in situations like this. Most of the time she didn’t mind, being alone wasn’t as bad as the rest of the world thought it to be. Even so, it didn’t stop her from wishing she had friends to talk to. The closest thing she had to a friend anymore was her cat, as she had left the one friend she had back in London four years prior.

She spotted an emptier table in the far back corner of the space, the students seated there eating in silence. She quickly made her way to the table, picking the seat furthest from any of the others seated there.

Within seconds, just as she was picking up her apple to take a bite, a kid, probably twelve years old, plopped himself down in the seat directly to her left. His most notable trait was the wild mop of curly, light brown hair atop his head. He grinned at her, his rounded baby face making him look even younger than he probably was. His piercing light blue eyes slid over her, the action catching her off-guard.

“Hello, Angel,” He leaned towards her, his prepubescent voice dropping low, and the attempt at trying to sound older than he was almost funny. Almost. She glanced at the other students sitting at the table, none of them paying attention or caring enough to look to see what was happening. That, or this was a normal occurrence here. “What’s your name?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her, his lips curling into what could barely be called a smirk.

She tried to subtly turn away from him, hoping he’d take the hint and leave her alone.

“Oh,” his voice drawled out, “mysterious. I like that. Tell me though, did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

She cringed at the classically overused line coming from a young kid, hiding the look on her face by taking a bite out of her apple. She was disappointed to find that it lacked the characteristic crisp crunch as she began to chew, at least momentarily relieved that she had an excuse not to respond.

“I hope you know CPR because you take my breath away,” his voice continued next to her. “Can you hold my hand, I want to be able to tell my friends about how I’ve been touched by an angel.”

She took another bite, confused about how anyone could be so socially inept to continue this cursed conversation if it could even be called that.

“I guess you can kiss heaven goodbye, it's a sin to look that good. You are so hot, it’s girls like you that are causing global warming.” She just about choked on her bite, her face scrunching in disgust. “Tell me your name, I’m sure it’s as beautiful as you. If not, you can just take mine.” She could see him wink at her in her peripheral vision.

“Evan,” the sharp voice of a girl made them both turn. A short girl her age stood a metre away with her hands on her hips, her annoyance clear. Her bright ginger hair was cut just below her shoulders, framing her face. She had an almost pixie-like look to her features, full cheeks, and wide, incredibly dark brown eyes, hints of red flashing in the light. She was very pretty, but that fact was overshadowed by her roughly ripped jeans and a baggy grey sweatshirt. Thick, black glasses rested on her freckled nose, only intensifying her glare. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Rachel,” Evan’s face broke into a grin. “You must be tired, after all, you ran through my thoughts all night long.”

“How many times do I have to tell you to leave people alone?” Rachel huffed, completely unfazed. “Haven’t you tormented us enough?”

“No need to be jealous, Spitfire,” Evan completely turned his attention to the other girl, much to Anna’s relief. “You know you’ll always be my number one.”

“Don’t call me that,” Rachel spat, crossing her arms and popping a hip as she shook her hair away from her face. “Just leave the poor girl alone.”

“Sorry, I got lost in your eyes there, do you happen to have a map to your heart?” Anna was becoming more convinced by the second that this boy learnt how to speak by reading awful pickup lines from the internet.

“Just shut up,” Rachel’s jaw set, chin tilted up in defiance. She turned her attention to Anna, expression softening slightly. “You can move if you’re uncomfortable, we have room at our table.”

Anna nodded, a warm feeling beginning to release her tense muscles. “Thank you,” she offered a smile.

“You’re British?!” Evan whirled back to her, suddenly slack-jawed, like the fact that she had an accent made all the difference.

She felt the urge to shake her head in exasperation, internally rolling her eyes. The way Americans responded to hearing the way she spoke was growing old. You could very well tell them magic existed and they would react the same way.

He made a loud humming noise, tilting his head as he looked her over once again.

She stood before he had a chance to begin speaking again, picking up her tray as she did so. She moved hesitantly to Rachel’s side, watching the other girl’s face carefully, looking for any sign that she hadn’t meant her offer.

They began to walk, Rachel glancing at her a couple of times before gesturing to a table close to the dish return station. Anna stopped, confused at the sight of Rachel sliding into the seat opposite of Jacob, rolling her eyes at something he said. The redhead looked at her quickly, probably just realizing she hadn’t followed to sit.

Anna took a breath, making a split-second decision to continue on, finding herself in the empty spot next to Jacob. As weird as the dark-haired boy was, there were worse things. She already knew, even with the prolonged stares and questions, he was a better deal than Evan.

She hoped anyway.

Just as the thoughts ran through her head, he turned his attention to her, an amused grin dancing on his lips. “Evan, huh? Ow!” He jerked back, sending an indignant look at Rachel, who, Anna just realised, had kicked him under the table.

“You deserved that,” the girl snorted, plucking a grape from the small vine she had on her tray.

“I’m just saying,” he protested. “On her first day, what are the chances?”

“Quite high, actually,” Rachel grumbled.

Anna looked to the silent, third member of their party. A tall, lanky boy was hunched over his food. He was pretty thin, his cheekbones more defined than what she supposed they were supposed to look like. His skin was pale, like he spent all day inside, hidden from the sun. His eyes were a surprisingly rich blue; dark, but not quite navy, with prominent dark circles underneath them. He wore a rumpled blue flannel over a plain white tee shirt, and his short, mousy brown hair was decently neat, though rumpled in a couple of places near the back. Most worryingly though, she couldn’t help but notice the distant stare he wore, staring unseeingly at his food. She wasn’t sure if he had even noticed her presence yet.

Rachel cleared her throat, the boy turning slightly to look at her, blinking his eyes curiously. “This is Ben,” she introduced with a smile.

“Hi,” she greeted, her voice stunted. “I’m Anna.”

He gave a small, awkward wave with a fork held between his fingers. “Nice to meet you.” His voice was so quiet against the noise of the cafeteria she had to strain to hear him.

“Thank you,” Anna addressed Rachel, the other girl regarding her with unreadable eyes. “Really.”

The redhead shrugged, eyes glancing at Jacob for a moment. “Evan’s been at it for months, it started a little odd, but now it’s getting excessive.”

“Either way,” Anna shook her head lightly. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, I did.” Rachel huffed.

Jacob let out a soft snort from beside Anna, she frowned at him, unsure of what he was laughing at. “You just want an excuse to yell at him again at this point,” he told her. “You complain about him all the time, but you love shutting him down more than you hate him.”

“Go eat a sock,” Rachel glared at him, the strange phrase passing through her lips easily; like it was normal.

“Tried that once,” Jacob’s voice was dead serious, his face deadpan. “Not all you chalk it up to be.”

Rachel let out a loud groan, laying her forehead down on the table to the side of her tray. Her hair draped out over the clear tabletop, pooling out in a fan-like shape around her head.

Jacob let out a snicker, turning her attention back to him. He silently moved his hand to his plastic utensils, he noticed Anna watching him, giving her a playful wink as he lifted the fork into his hand. Slowly, he reached out, angling the plasticware down towards Rachel’s hair, dragging it lightly through the bright locks.

Instantly, Rachel’s head shot up, Jacob pulling his hand back to avoid stabbing her head. Her eyes were wide, mouth parted. “You-” her indignant stutter caused a burst of laughter from him. “You TURKEY!”

He only laughed harder, his face turning red from the effort. Anna bit her lip to prevent her own giggles, Ben looking over at his friend with amused concern. Jacob’s laughter began to die down, his eyes sparkling when he opened them. “I’ve always wondered what it was like to be a turkey,” he managed. “Though, it might ruffle some feathers.”

“Stooop,” Rachel’s face twisted into a grimace.

“Aw, don’t get a fowl mood,” Jacob leaned an arm on the table, a smug grin growing across his lips.

Rachel pulled another grape from the vine, lightly tossing it at the dark-haired boy. It bounced off his chest, his hands instinctively flying up to catch it as it fell.

He raised it like one would toast a glass of champagne before popping it into his mouth. “Thanks,” he quipped.

Rachel rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything more. It was clear she wasn’t truly annoyed with a hint of a smile pulling at the edge of her mouth.

A pang of jealousy coursed through Anna as she watched them banter, and the fact that she didn’t have anyone to joke with as they did became more and more noticeable. At the same time, the clear care they felt for each other warmed her heart, and though Ben hadn’t said much at all, the looks he shot at the others were filled with the same sentiment. Yes, Jacob was weird, but for the first time in years, she felt accepted by anyone her age.

Hope began to rise in her chest, an undeniable desire to get to know these people making itself known. A part of her, a large part, wanted to see herself be friends with them. Now, the question was: how long until she was packing her bags once again?

Next Chapter

Taglist: @hxad-ovxr-hxart, @the-printed-words, @frostedlemonwriter, @on-noon, @my-cursed-prince, and @thesorcererspen. If you'd like to be added, please let me know!

#legacy of the fallen #legacy of the fallen text #my writing #writing wip #writer #fantasy writer #writeblr #aspiring writer #aspiring author #annamarie ophelie

[aerodaltonimperial]

hmmmm how abouuuut TOP FIVE PLATONIC (&) SHIPS??

Oh my goodness, this is fun.

1. Jack & Hook (JungleHook)

MY BELOVED BESTIES???? Can't believe I hated this match-up until I started writing it and realized that actually, I have a lot of VERY INTENSE FEELINGS about both of them having a friend???? They feel awkward in such different ways that the dynamic is so fun, and it opens up so much sass and funny shit when you take them as a platonic pair. Will never separate. RIP me, will go to my grave stanning them as BFFs, does not matter if Jack turns heel lol

2. Lydia & Stiles

This one never worked for me when they shoe-horned it into the show. They work so much better as eye-rolling besties who research magic shit together, constantly one-upping each other with academics. It was honestly a disservice to them both when they made it romantic because it felt much more genuine and meaningful when it was platonic.

3. Rydia & Edge

This was a big romantic ship back when FFIV fandom was predominantly on LJ, but I just never bought into it. I like them much more as friends. I don't see Ryds putting up with Edge, nor Edge ever being okay with not being able to "tame" her, but they had great chemistry as friends and I wish we got to see that explored more.

4. Balthier & Fran

This one probably stems from how I was super into Balthier/Ashe when I played FFXII, but they were ride or die pirate besties and nothing more to me. I chafed at the idea of them being romantically linked haha.

5. Glenn & Riddel

I just can't ship them! But they are extremely important as a platonic relationship to me. That bond between them feels so close and so meaningful. It would definitely cheapen what they have to push that romantic, and I'm glad the game never did.

[lolbeech]

Emily Windsnap characters’ favorite Broadway songs

Emily - Where Do You Belong? (Mean Girls) - Emily struggled finding where she fit in (multiple times) because of being both mermaid and human, and she had friends (I.e. Aaron and Shona) like Damian and Janis

Shona - Popular (Wicked) / Omigod You Guys (Legally Blonde) / She’s In Love (The Little Mermaid) - Shona is popular in school and has a personality very similar to Glinda. Same with Elle Woods. She’s In Love has a girly mermaidy sound to it and represents Shona’s love of romance

Aaron - Home (Beetlejuice) - Aaron has similar pain to Lydia because he also lost a parent. This song also represents how he finds a new home at Forgotten Island

Mandy - What Is This Feeling? (Wicked) - Emily and Mandy had a lot of conflict over the series but end up besties like Elphaba and Glinda

Mary Penelope - I Remember…/Stranger Than You Dreamt It (Phantom) - Represents Mary losing her memory and then regaining it, and the song also talks about a boat and a man lol

Jake - Epic III (Hadestown) - Jake and his family remind Neptune of love and cause him to change, just like Orpheus did with Hades. Also Jake loves poetry 📖

Millie - No Reason (Beetlejuice) - Millie is exactly like Delia and I could easily see her singing this to Emily

Mr. Beeston - A Cautionary Tale (Mean Girls) - Describes a tale of destruction and betrayal, just like what Beeston did to the Windsnap family

Neptune - Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again / The World Above (Reprise) (The Little Mermaid) - WYWSHA represents Neptune’s love for Aurora and how much pain he was in when she died/and even later on in current day. The World Above is kinda self explanatory lol

Aurora - The One You’ve Been Waiting For (Six) / Heart of Stone (Six) - Aurora is the more famous and mysterious wife of Neptune just like Anne Boleyn is to Henry VIII (Shona learned about her in school and Aurora’s story has many secrets that are uncovered throughout the series). Just like in Six, Neptune is said to have multiple wives, but I honestly don’t believe that to be canon or he married mermaids just for temporary companionship. But just like Jane Seymour (Heart of Stone) Aurora is said to have been Neptune’s favorite and also died early in their marriage.

Njord - I Want The Good Times Back (The Little Mermaid) - Njord wants to overthrow Neptune just like Ursula wanted to overthrow Triton. He also had a past as royalty, as he was Neptune’s brother and shared the throne with him for a time

Archie - Sweet Child (The Little Mermaid) - Archie manipulated Emily and Aaron into helping him and Njord carry out their plans, just like Flotsam and Jetsam manipulated Ariel into helping Ursula

Seth - Something Bad (Wicked) - This song represents how Seth tells Emily and Shona about Njord and his history with Neptune

Jeras - Wonderful (Wicked) - Jeras wanted power and was offered it by Terra, like Elphaba was by the Wizard. The deal in both instances didn’t pan out

Fortuna - Close the Door (Anastasia) - This song represent’s Fortuna’s pain from losing Aurora, similar to the dowager and Anastasia

Terra - When You’re Good To Mama (Chicago) - This song represents Terra’s personality and how she helped Jeras when she saw power for herself, but she cursed him when he made a mistake

Jakob - Easy Street (Annie) - Jakob schemes like Rooster and Ms. Hannigan to get money/treasure

Michele - Get Down (Six) - Michele likes nice things (like things mentioned in the song) and has a certain level of power being the pirate king’s wife

Sam - For Good (Wicked) - Sam and Emily changed each other for the better over their adventure and allowed each other to gain confidence and courage

Noah - You’ll Be Back (Hamilton) - Noah believes that his crew will return to him after they side with Sam and he has the same possessiveness and cruelty as King George III

#emily windsnap

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 09/09/2023 (Kylie Minogue, Kenya Grace, Tion Wayne/Nines)

Content warning: Discussion of death and some sex references

Doja Cat dethrones Olivia Rodrigo at #1 on the UK Singles Chart, with “Paint the Town Red” becoming her first ever song to top the chart. Welcome back to REVIEWING THE CHARTS!

Rundown

As always, we start with the notable dropouts, which are songs exiting the UK Top 75 (that’s what I cover) after five weeks in the region or a peak in the top 40. This week, we say farewell to “On the Radar Freestyle” by Drake and Central Cee, “FE!N” by Travis Scott featuring Playboi Carti and Sheck Wes - kind of - “Pakistan” by D-Block Europe featuring Clavish, “How Does it Feel” by Tom Grennan, “Everywhere” and “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac, “Everybody Wants to Rule the World” by Tears for Fears, “Kill Bill” by SZA, “Another Love” by Tom Odell and finally, “Riptide” by Vance Joy. And stay out.

Always infinitely more interesting are our notable gains, which this week includes “Party All the Time” by Hannah Laing and HVRR at #57, “DNA (Loving You)” by Billy Gillies featuring Hannah Boleyn at #54, “I Remember Everything” by Zach Bryan featuring Kacey Musgraves at #50, “Rave Out” by Turno, Skepsis and Charlotte Plank at #41, “Feel It” by Jazzy at #35, “Bittersweet Goodbye” by Issey Cross at #23, “Rush” by Troye Sivan at #22 thanks to a remix featuring PinkPantheress and Hyunjin of Stray Kids (it’s alright), “Asking” by MK and Sonny Fodera featuring Clementine Douglas at #14 and finally, Fred again.. and Obongjayar get their first top 10 hits as credited artists with “adore u” - even if I’m not a fan of the song, still happy for them at #9.

Our top five on this week’s UK Singles Chart is pretty standard: we have Peggy Gou’s “(It Goes Like) Nanana” at #5, “What Was I Made For?” by Billie Eilish at #4, “vampire” at Olivia Rodrigo down to #3, “Cruel Summer” by Taylor Swift at #2 and of course, “Paint the Town Red” at #1. Now off to look at our interesting list of new entries.

NEW ARRIVALS

#75 - “HONEY (ARE U COMING)” - Maneskin

Produced by SLY and Rami

As soon as I saw this title, I had my concerns about this Italian rock band dipping into incredibly unsexy “I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE”-esque territory, but whilst the double entendre may still be there, the song is more about sheer adrenaline… and it goes hard as balls. I’ve never been a fan of Mr. David’s nasal delivery, but he rides the riff pretty effectively here, even going into a falsetto he can’t even really hit for the purpose of just having chaotic fun, which seems also to be the reason for the switch between a slimy sing-songy flow in the chorus and its ending screech. The riffs here are infectious, with some great subtle overdubs in the verses, and once again, Ethan Torchio on the drums does a lot to keep this song’s momentum going with a basic but propulsive drum pattern that hits heavy in the chorus and plays really well off of the nastier bass as it rattles around the mix during that post-punk-esque bridge. I do wish the final chorus had a better build up than the smash-in technique it goes for here, but this still kicks a decent amount of ass, even if it’s not all that interesting or unique for this band.

#73 - “Back on 74” - Jungle

Produced by J. Lloyd

It is incredibly painful to see a song called “Back on 74” debut at #73. So close. Anyway, Jungle are a real unique group - you could call them a soul group, an electronic music group, but I don’t think they can effectively be pigeon-holed really. They’re probably best described as a funk group active since 2013 and consistently snatching top 10 albums in the UK. It was of no surprise to see their latest, Volcano, peak at #3 there but it is a bit of a surprise to see them on the singles chart, this being their highest-peaking song in the UK Singles Chart ever and first since 2014’s “Time” which peaked all the way down at #94. I’ve yet to listen to that album yet, but this is a great cut with Lydia Kitto on lead vocals, keeping in a breathy, sometimes clipping higher register amidst a rolicking groove and cute acoustics that exemplify probably the most appealling part of this song to me: sincerity. It’s a nostalgic-feeling jam with seemingly the best intentions with each little vocal harmony, especially when the guys join in on the second verse with Kitto or provide that deep-pitched “oh-oh” doo-wop lines during the chorus. Kitto has some really flailing vocal riffs here too, poking out of the mix kind of desperately in a way that reflects that mantra of “let it go!” The warm synth keys, almost reminding me of Tyler the Creator in how they replicate what would be a brass instrument in an older song, come in later and really seal the deal for me, trickling down until… the song just kind of ends, abruptly, and slightly disappointedly. We do return for a soulful acoustic outro consisting mostly of vaguely psychedelic improv, but it doesn’t feel like a substantial conclusion to a song with so much drive. Otherwise, I mean, it’s still a good ride to hop on, just could have found a better destination. I would be surprised if this stick around too but, hey, I wouldn’t be complaining - it’s rare that something like this ends up even this high.

#72 - “Miillion Dollar Bill” - Beyond Chicago, Majestic and Alex Mills

Produced by Beyond Chicago and Majestic

This is a bit of a deep cut, guys! For context, “Million Dollar Bill” is a throwback-sounding disco and funk track by the legend Whitney Houston herself, released in 2009 and produced by Alicia Keys and her husband Swizz Beatz, yet somehow not ending up sounding in any way modern. This is probably a good thing for Whitney, as her performance here and the instrumental she’s on has never felt perfectly right to me; she still had the pipes in 2009 obviously, but she approached the song in a way that didn’t feel as youthful as it should, as proven by Alicia Keys’ fresh-faced backing vocals that kind of just make me wish she kept the song for herself. It’s also just kind of a boring song, with very little up its sleeves other than relying on sheer belting prowess from its lead star. Regardless, as the lead single from her final album, it still peaked at #5 in the UK, and is clearly remembered enough for a remix by UK DJs Beyond Chicago and Majestic, who you may know from his remix of Boney M.’s “Rasputin” which peaked at #11 just a few years ago. Now on one hand, this song does what the song should have always done, increased the punch of the percussion and picked the pace up a bit. On the other hand, we no longer have the iconic Whitney Houston and are stuck with the completely serviceable - most of the time - Alex Mills, who covers the song without the subtlety that Whitney inherently brought at times in that original version. That’s mostly a good thing when it comes to the incessant French house flip that this song has, still maintaining a replicated version of some of the original, more organic percussion for the pre-drop but going all-out elsewhere on basically digitising this single. I’m still pretty torn on it - it makes the song what it was probably written as, with little regard to who it was written by or for. It slaps harder but less interestingly, it’s got more vocal leap but less personality. It’s structurally completely fine so it’ll function in a club, and I guess that’s this song’s only real purpose so I’m sure it can be a fully ignorable version of a pretty uncommonly-brought-up single from the tail end of a legend’s career.

#65 - “I KNOW ?” - Travis Scott

Produced by OZ, Coleman, Travis Scott, Buddy Ross and BBYKOBE

When listening to UTOPIA, this song may have been the track that exemplified just how much I was bored and frustrated by Travis, as this entire song seems like an exercise in testing patience. It’s plopped right in the middle of the album, between the mysterious Beyoncé-featuring “DELRESTO (ECHOES)”, an aimless, wandering lecture on how to lose all momentum, and the album’s attempt at a grimy banger, “TOPIA TWINS”, so the link between the two complete opposites kind of needs to be substantial, or smooth or at least effectively transitional. This is a piano-led stodge with distorted and time-stretched samples placed in and out as haphazardly as possible to connote “experimentation”. This could potentially fit into a hypnotising, drugged-out atmosphere as Travis has often fell into before but the layers of synth aren’t there, the vocal samples cut in and out, including his own ad-libs which are mixed interruptingly loud, and he has twenty girls sucking him “like bisons”. Regardless, the mindless repetition is enough to make this a catchy song, and hence a fan favourite that has lasted way longer than I expected in terms of its streaming traction. It’s not offensively bad like many other cuts on that album, or even all that frustratingly boring like the rest of it given its shorter runtime, but it’s still just about as worthless.

#53 - “Demons” - Doja Cat

Produced by d.a. got that dope

This series has for the most part always been “all about the music, man”, even if I do often get political or make off-hand comments about scandals. The one thing I tend to avoid - half because I just don’t care enough and half because it accentuates that musical focus - is the music video for a song. I will rarely ever watch a video for a song, genuinely, and this hurts several songs that I end up reviewing. This was a bigger deal from the mid-2010s and earlier, dating back to the 1980s, where videos were a big event that often came with the song to create cultural phenomena, but it’s not like we’ve had a “Thriller”-level match of phenomenon single and cinematic video since, well, maybe “This is America”? Music videos are a lot less important it feels nowadays, at least in the Anglosphere, and I bring this up because the video for “Demons” seems like it was made completely in conjunction with the song. Doja’s teeth-grinding yelps aren’t as villainous without the cloned pitch-black devils echoing them, the trap metal beat from d.a. got that dope of all people doesn’t blast as well without the knowledge that it’s the endless soundtrack to this helpless woman and her kids trying to escape the demonic creatures, and Doja’s sing-songy cadence sounds childlike without the condescending looks and that typewriter scene that practically explains why the second verse’s flow is so awkward. I’m not a music video reviewer though, I review songs and yes, surprise, surprise, I still like this. The horror movie strings are immediately punctuated by a shoddily-mastered bass and maniacal laughter from Doja, who cuts off her own gasping-for-air ad-libs with creepy empty space that is even more noticeable when the stiff beat seems like it should be doing more to cover her minimal, nursery rhyme verses. I’ll admit that the hook gets a bit stale, but the sarcastic pettiness and gross sex bars in that second verse increase the theatrics in a very typically unsubtle way that ensures this won’t fade from memory anytime soon. I’m dying on a very risky hill here, but hey, if Baby Keem needed to be a woman rapping over slasher film soundtracks all this time for me to like him (her?), then Doja found the formula before he could get to it.

#46 - “Last Time I Saw You” - Nicki Minaj

Produced by Hendrix Smoke, ATL Jacob, Bak, Frankie Bash and TooDope

The Queen of Rap is back with her sequel to her debut, Pink Friday and just like the original, there are sugary tacked-on pop singles. This particular one is a bit of a new lane for Nicki though, considering it’s a slow synthpop jam, held together by a ringtone lead synth and some of the worst straw-sounding drums I’ve ever heard on this kind of production backing a harder backbeat that actually functions, perhaps a bit more than Nicki’s mush-mouth singing that is still quite limited, even if it’s far from a bad performance, and coated in enough reverb and Auto-Tune to drown out many of the flaws. In fact, this restrained, kind of muted singing fits pretty well for a song about regretting being not as close as she could in a relationship before it ended. The rap verse may not really take the restraint angle, and it’s not exactly a good verse for Nicki’s standards, but it functions basically as a guest-rap verse on her own song, which is a cute decision, and doesn’t distract much from the song’s flow. In fact, on repeated listens, I began to really like this. Content-wise, the song is just vague enough to reflect any relationship, but does make it clear that it’s not purely romantic, and makes some leads toward it being about her late father, with her struggling to complete the sentence “I killed it”, which resonates with me particularly because there’s always a sense of guilt and loss that you weren’t the perfect person for someone when that person close to you dies, and being as closed-off as Nicki as in this performance, not really wanting to talk about it, was my instinctual reaction too when my father passed. The bridge is what really sold me on this though, with that speck of ambiance amidst all the backing vocal layers, a distant electric guitar signifying his death, before Nicki observes the stars in a nostalgic interpolation of Madonna’s “Lucky Star”, naming her father as the first star she notices in the sky that night. Then the vocal and synth layers continue to pile up, repeating mantras of sentences, whilst the drums transfix into this jerky Jersey club rhythm that never fully comes to a conclusion, just fading into a drumless chorus that is honestly pretty beautiful, especially with what sounds like a subtle male backing vocal harmonising with Nicki on the first line of that final hook. I… may have just talked myself into loving this one. I’ve got to stop doing that.

#43 - “AMEN” - Tion Wayne and Nines

Produced by Smokey.jam and GUSTO

The two grit-voiced UK rappers team up for a collaboration that makes all too much sense and yes, whilst it is mostly a Tion Wayne song with a Nines guest verse, Nines still must have injected some fury in Tion here considering how he comes in with a lot of violence here, making his typical pop culture potpourri of references just that more fun. He’s over a pretty nasty beat too, blending shuffling boom bap drums with an eerie acoustic loop and some gorgeous female vocals standing airily in the back of the chorus. The call-and-response with the choir in the chorus is a brilliant choice to make this song anthemic, and to my surprise, Nines doesn’t really mess it up either. He comes in as sloppy and conversational as he’s always been, but his lowkey basically-just-talking flow is a nice respite from Tion’s aggression and he occasionally sounds smooth even. As a whole piece, this may not be perfect - it’s not exactly the most potent either have been - but it’s a great pumping rap banger outside of the trap and drill subgenres, which I feel like we’ve been missing lately. Hell, if this whole G-Unit revival sound in the UK is going to bring songs like this, I can’t be too upset at Digga D for helping start that.

#20 - “Strangers” - Kenya Grace

Produced by Kenya Grace

This one kind of came out of nowhere, especially for a top 20 hit, but this is Kenya Grace, a singer from London with just a few songs out as of writing, and this is her massive breakout hit, “Strangers”, which I see as a more futuristic and cinematic version of what PinkPantheress has been doing, replacing her more vintage-sounding samples with a plastic 80s synth and ominous vocal loops, whilst keeping the rhythmic, wistful delivery. Sadly, the chorus really doesn’t hit here, as it’s just two extended, kind of awkward lines with that “uh-huh” mantra filling in the blanks. Interestingly, just like PinkPantheress, the song feels unfinished, but in a completely different way, not that there’s a great song that just needs a proper emotional climax, but in that this song feels like a template for what could be a brilliant track, and never gets there, which is especially annoying since it uses the momentum of a drum and bass track to propel itself, which makes it incredibly unsatisfying when nothing aligns together as it should. It’s a good effort but I’m more hoping for a more realised follow-up than listening to this one anytime soon.

#19 - “Tension” - Kylie Minogue

Produced by Duck Blackwell and Richard “Biff” Stannard

And from a singer who was a practical unknown until recently to perhaps the most established and no-introduction-needed artist in this list. The second single and title track from her upcoming album, is “Tension” going to live up to the big comeback of “Padam Padam”? Well, perhaps it won’t be a similar phenom, but it applies a similar formula with the robotic repetition and bordering-on-cringeworthy lyrics amidst a slightly bubblier production than the last single, going for a 90s piano house lead and very fizzy synth bass plucks following every angle of the mix, even in the intensely-filtered pre-chorus which is practically a call-and-response, but with Kylie’s heavily affected cooing that eventually transforms into this completely unrecognisable glitched fabric mixed sloppily onto a slap house rhythm as the bass dominates the mix until what is practically a drop-within-a-drop, that brings in a freaking sick bass guitar line and releases a lot of airier synth soundscapes. The second verse has some fantastic choir-like backing vocal layers, and the rest of the song’s progression just continues to overwhelm in a way that seems set to establish Kylie’s sexual and pop culture dominance. As she’s basically a mystical figure in pop at this point, this new practically alien futuristic house sound that’s minimal in idea, maximum in execution, is a sound I really love for her. It actually brings her into the modern pop scene a lot smoother than you’d think, because it incorporates elements of her existing stage and media persona. This is great - silly, but not bordering on stupid like “Padam Padam” - instead, it’s just fantasical and out of this world in a really gripping way.

Conclusion

What a good week. There are only three songs of nine I wasn’t a fan of and even then, they’re far from terrible. Travis Scott does end up with Worst of the Week for “I KNOW ?”, but a Dishonourable Mention isn’t needed. Instead, how about two Honourable Mentions for “Back on 74” by Jungle and “Last Time I Saw You” by Nicki Minaj which was very close but does mean that Best of the Week goes to Kylie Minogue for “Tension”. There was a lot of good stuff this week though; I’ve yet to listen to Olivia Rodrigo’s newest but I hope she brings some of that same quality next week. As for now, thank you for reading, rest in peace to Steve Harwell and I’ll see you then!

#uk singles chart #tion wayne #nines #kylie minogue #kenya grace #song review