#I wILL color these eventually i must hold myself to this

[heart-of-tyria]

Been thinking I should do a series where I draw all the Firstborn,,, kinda a sudden thing but I think it'd at least help me draw more if I do

Played around with it by sketching a few today so please enjoy

[inkskinned]

crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.

i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.

in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.

i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.

i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.

plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.

the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.

we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.

i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.

a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.

today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.

loved beyond thinking.

[worldstarz]

genshin men voicelines about you

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

pairing: gn!reader x kaeya / diluc / thoma / ayato / tartaglia / ayato / albedo / itto / kazuha (separate)

a/n: xiao bonus at the end! could not think of anything that wouldn’t feel contradictory to his other voicelines, but maybe i’ll make a part 2 with some other men i missed + eventually with the girls. sorry for anything ooc bc i haven’t played genshin in over a year 😛

cw: blood mention, itto is a loser

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

KAEYA

Oh, [name]? They’re many things, certainly. Dependable, attentive, easy on the eyes - ah, but I can't say too much. Is it so bad I want to keep something precious for myself?

DILUC

You’re asking about [name]? Why is that? …you’re curious about our relationship? I thought I made it obvious that they’re my partner—not for business, but romantically. I like to keep my personal life, well, personal, so forgive me for not divulging too much information.

THOMA

I was actually about to go see them right now! It’s hard for me to get some free time, but whenever I do, there’s nothing better than spending it with [name]! No matter how tired I am, I always feel recharged right away when they’re around, and then I can work even harder!

TARTAGLIA

Do you think [name] would like this necklace? Or maybe this bracelet? How about both? Maybe I should get these in different colors, too. Wait, I think I have enough mora on me to buy the entire stand—what? Why are you giving me that look?

AYATO

A day polluted by meetings with people I do not have the energy to care for, futile attempts at gaining power from my opponents, endless bartering… my, I hate to spoil the mood, but I do need a refresher. Pardon me as I send a servant to fetch my beloved [name] for me. I won’t be long. Once I see their face, we may go back to our discussion.

ALBEDO

[name]? Yes, they’re my partner. …Why do you look so surprised? I know I have said maintaining relationships is difficult, but they are very patient and willing to meet me halfway. I also cannot deny my attraction to them. It doesn’t affect my research whatsoever. Rather, their affections motivate me to research something new everyday for conversations with them. …Perhaps I am also meeting them halfway.

ITTO

What? You surprised a stone cold gang leader like me can score a hottie like [name]? Make this a lesson to never doubt Arataki “numero uno novio” Itto! Well, uh, I gotta admit, they are kinda outta my league… H-Hold on, why do you wanna know so much? You trying to find my weak spots or something? No… you couldn’t possibly… be trying to steal them from me?! Oho, you’re messing with the wrong gu- wait, get those beans away from me!!!!

KAZUHA

If I were to pick between losing my voice or losing [name], may the earth be granted my silence. If I must bleed out for thousands of years for even the slightest chance to lay beside them, may the blade of the sword be sharp. If granting them an eternal life of tranquility and happiness meant sacrificing my own life, my dying breath will be their name.

bonus:

XIAO

*…he blushed and teleported away.*

[hauntedwitch04]

Wrong time, right person

Azriel x reader

Words: about 3.3k words

Warnings: smut, smut, Iforgot to say smut, and Azzy himself ;)

Author’s note: Hi loves! I finally managed to write some more after the crazy week I had. Hope you like it, your witch Becky

Requests are open I Ask

My masterlist

Join the Taglist

If you like my works, consider to buy me a coffee - Patreon submission

KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023

DAY 3: Sex pollen

It's an easy mission they said.

Touch and go, they won't even know you passed by they said.

Assholes. Liars. Bastards. Especially liars though.

This is all I can think of as the Shadowsinger and I find ourselves running through the trees being chased by the guards of the lord we had gone to spy on. Someone must have warned of our arrival, because a few minutes after arriving on the spot, we were already surrounded by enemies. We fought to the end, but were forced to retreat into the woods, seeking safety in escaping through that labyrinth of logs, hoping that those stupid enforcers would not be able to follow us.

It seems like hours that we are running when we finally decide to stop, in the vicinity of a cave, so that we can find refuge from the darkness and our pursuers.

"We finally lost those assholes." My companion comments, sitting back against the cave wall, leaning his head against the rock and showing his neck, leaving it exposed to my gaze.

That simple gesture kindles a fire in me that burns brightly, and I feel compelled to look away. I close my head between my legs and feel Azriel's gaze on me as he approaches. I feel him rest a hand on my shoulder, and I can't help but moan at that simple contact. I feel my cheeks get hot, but he doesn't flinch and asks me worriedly, "Hey, are you okay?" I can't bring myself to look at his face so I nod slightly still with my head between my legs and mutter a nonsensical apology. He still tries for a moment to wrest the truth from my lips, but I don't even flinch for a second. Azriel, seeing then that I did not intend to explain anything, stands up.

"I'm going to gather some wood for the fire, or we'll freeze to death tonight." He says, as he approaches the exit of the cave. I glimpse from below my knees the color of the sky, which is now turning blue.

"Okay, I'll stay here." I tell him in a whisper loud enough for him to hear me. I guess he nods, before walking out of our shelter, leaving me to think about why I took that action earlier. Ever since we escaped from the building I feel a strange sensation permeating my body, but I hadn't given it too much thought before since my priority was to run away from the guards, but it's as if after all that effort that feeling has expanded to the nth degree. It almost feels as if my body no longer belongs to me: I feel a wet sensation between my panties, while the fabric of my T-shirt brushing against the skin of my breasts sends shivers down my spine as my nipples harden against my bra. I squeeze my thighs together trying to ease that sensation, but it all proves futile. I feel a wave of embarrassment rise through my body again, thinking that this is all due only to a small gesture from the Shadowsinger.

Eventually I decide to lie down and try to get some sleep hoping that with a good dose of rest the next day I would wake up feeling better than I am now. I lie down with some difficulty on the floor only to fall unconscious in the arms of Morpheus after a few seconds.

But all is in vain, because in the middle of the night I suddenly wake up all sweaty. I sit up while with one hand I hold my chest. I feel the fire from before writhing in my gut, and on instinct my other hand goes to my center automatically, but realizing my gesture I immediately freeze.

Azriel was sitting in front of the fire, and seeing me feeling so sick he immediately approaches me, touching my forehead to feel if I had a fever. Immediately he retracts his hand feeling how hot I am, and makes me lie of me.

"You try to lie to me one more time about feeling good, and I swear I will never make you go on a mission with me again, and I will make sure Rhysand doesn't either." Says Azriel, as he removes part of my suit, to let the cold night wind cool me down a little. I again find myself letting escape a moan of pleasure as I feel that cool night breeze brush against my warm skin. I feel my nipples becoming turgid as I somehow try to get away from the Shadowsinger's constant touch, which is only making the situation I am in worse.

"I would say now is not the time to lecture me Az." I reply as I try to catch my breath. The Illyrian looks conflicted, but finally stands up and looks me straight in the eye.

"I'll try to do something. You stay here, and in case you give a yell, I'll be back here in less than a second." Says Azriel before disappearing into the night.

I stay looking at the place where he disappeared for a few minutes, trying to distract myself from the feeling of pain and the impossibility of having what my body desires, but finally I give in and begin to slowly run the fingers of my right hand over my center. I immediately feel the pain lessen, but like a drug, this never seems to be enough and I need more and more. My other hand wanders down my body until it rests on my breast and I begin to stimulate one of my nipples. My right hand I run it under my pants and for the first time my fingers come in contact with the wet lips of my pussy.

I remain in that limbo situation for what feels like an eternity experiencing enough pleasure to not die of pain and at the same time not enough to be completely well.

After what seems like hours, I hear Azriel's heavy footsteps getting closer. Quickly I try to look presentable, but immediately the lack of that little antidote causes me more pain than I felt before. I feel twinges in my abdomen that make me bend over, but despite this I look up at the man in front of me, and I cannot help but curse Mother for creating such a perfect being: he has not slept in days, he is drenched in sweat and tired, and yet he continues to be the most attractive person I have ever seen.

He stops to catch his breath, and only then do I realize that he no longer has the cape he was wearing before, in fact now his muscular arms are clearly evident, thanks in part to the tank top he was wearing.

"Where did your cloak go?" I ask, trying to distract myself in a very unsatisfactory way.

"I had to give it to Suriel, to get him to help me understand what you have." He says casually as he approaches me. At that gesture I try to pull away, but he doesn't let me, resting his hands on my shoulders. He then places his lips on my forehead to test whether I still have a fever. That gesture again unleashes a fire capable of burning whole woods in my stomach, and I groan, almost in pain, pushing him away from me.

"Did I hurt you?" Azriel asks worriedly, and I wave him off, so as not to worry him, but he doesn't seem convinced.

"What did Suriel tell you?" I ask, trying to change the subject.

"Well, as we were running away you spilled a jar of powders on yourself as we were going through that sorceress's store, remember?" Azriel says, looking at the ground, as if ashamed. I nod, remembering very well that damned jar, which made me sneeze for several minutes.

"You didn't read the label on that jar, did you?" He continues vaguely, so much so that nervous and without patience, I force him to look at me before answering him.

"Of course I didn't have time to look at it Az, go straight to the point." I say impatiently. His cheeks turn red, and he stammers something under his breath that I can't understand at first, so I ask him to repeat it. He raises his eyes and fixes his in mine, before repeating what he had tried to say before.

"It was sex pollen, the one that spilled on you." He says finally, and I feel the blood freeze in my veins, still in shock from the revelation he threw at me. "And according to Suriel, the only way to keep you from dying right now is to...well you know, go along with what your instincts are asking you to do."

"Thank you for explaining in such a nice way that I have to masturbate Az, really very nice." I say almost angry at him, even though I know I'm not really. I'm partly angry at myself for putting myself in that situation, but I can't do anything about it now, and now I'm also in danger of dying.

"Hey, I'm trying my best." He replies, scratching the back of his neck with his right hand, looking embarrassed.

"I know, I know Az, it's just-" I pause for a moment, trying to find a way to say it. I take a big breath and keep talking. "I've already tried touching myself, alone, down there, but it didn't do much good." I confess in a low voice, hoping he won't hear it, but unfortunately Shadowsinger's hearing is too acute to miss my confession. He freezes for a moment as if he is about to reason out what to do, then speaks again.

"I know." Azriel says in a guilty tone.

"What do you mean you know?" I ask shocked as I look at him, not understanding what he was referring to.

"Well the Suriel may or may not have told me that you would not be healed this way. "He continues as he watches the fire casting beams of light on the walls of the cave we are in. I stop again, and begin to reflect on all that I knew about these powders as I feel the pain getting worse and worse. By now I can feel my panties completely wet, as every single contact with what's around me unleashes a series of shivers that reaches to my core.

"I thought that was enough...well you get it. In all the books dealing with pollen with potential danger they say that's enough, be satisfied." I try to explain, as I draw a groan caused by my shifting which resulted in clenching my thighs together.

"I thought so too, but he said this doesn't count if-" He freezes as if he cannot find the words. I, growing more and more impatient, ask him aloud to continue.

"Az just doesn't seem like the time to be shy." I urge him to speak.

"He said it's not enough when you're in close proximity to your mate." He blurts out, standing up sharply. I squint my eyes not believing what my ears have just heard, but I immediately understand that feeling that has long been building in my heart toward my mate. Well I would say more than friend. I feel something forming in my chest that takes shape through a golden thread extending from my sternum to that of Azriel, who is currently turned his back to me as he looks out of the cave as if in the same there is the answer to this problem. Immediately I feel that silly happiness I felt at having found my mate, and that he was the man I actually loved all my life already disintegrating under the idea that he didn't want all that.

"You don't have to." I whisper, in the grip of ever-worsening cramps, but right now they seem like nothing more than mild pain compared to what my heart was feeling.

"You don't understand, if we don't do this, you will die and I won't let you die." He counters by turning around and dropping to his knees at my height looking me straight in the eye.

"I don't want your pity." I reply harshly as I try to get out of his sight, unable to do much given my condition, because I don't want him to see my suffering and the pain his rejection has triggered in me.

"No, I don't want my mate, the woman I've loved all my life to die and I'm pissed off at Mother because I didn't want it to happen like this between us the first time. I wanted to do everything right, take you to dinner, confess under the stars and then make love to you in my bed between the sheets I had specially chosen your favorite color, not on the floor in a stupid cave after risking our lives! When I knew you were my mate I wanted nothing more than to thank Mother, fate or whoever, but now I hate them because they had to pass the anger they vent on me to you, and I don't want to see you suffer because of me." He blurts out as he begins to walk around the cave again, then finishes his speech by looking at me. A strange light sparkles in his eyes, they look like the eyes of someone who loves to the point of being sick, to the point of suffering, and that love right now is directed at me. I can't believe his words, but that connection makes me feel that everything he just said is the truth, and immediately the happiness I lost a few moments ago returns, along with hope.

"We can still do it." I confess in a whisper and he immediately turns to me, his eyebrows furrowed over his beautiful eyes. "We can do it once we get home. We'll tell Rhys they can go screw him and his missions, and we'll take some time to figure this out and get used to it, and we can do everything you just said, because believe me I want to do all that with you."

"But?" He asks as he approaches.

"But now all I need is you fucking me as hard as you can in this shitty place so that I can stop dying and talk to you without having to moan every time." I say, as I grab his shirt with one hand, since he was now close enough to me, and kiss him with all the passion in my body.

I feel like I can finally breathe again as my lips on his, and I can already feel the pollen fade as the urge to feel Azriel inside me increases without measure.

"As my lady wishes." Whispers the Illiryan on my lips as we pull away from that breathless kiss. I immediately feel his lips graze my neck, to start biting and sucking on it as if his life depended on it. Every single movement of his lips and tongue made me touch the sky with one finger as I moaned his name as if I were a priestess intent on making a prayer and he the deity I believe in.

His lips then move from my neck to my breasts, where he begins to suck on my nipples like a hungry child. I bring my hands into his hair and pull them every time his tongue touches one of my sensitive spots.

"Baby doll, if you pull my hair one more time, I don't think I'll be able to keep myself from fucking you so hard I'll leave your silhouette on the floor of this place." He says pulling away for a moment to kiss my lips again.

My hands move down, and I begin to open his pants, while he begins to open mine.

"All words, I want to see some action." I reply, trying not to give away how much his words had affected me. He smirks, realizing that he actually made a mark with what he said, just brushing against my panties and feeling how wet they are.

"You will regret saying what you just said baby doll." Az replies, as with a quick gesture he enters of me. I didn't even notice that he had moved both my and his panties, but right now I don't care.

Feeling his cock inside me is an otherworldly experience. I can feel the walls of my pussy tighten around his sizable member as he tries to stay as still as possible to get me used to his size.

"Tell me if it hurts, or if you feel like you can't take it anymore, okay?" He asks softly, as he kisses my sweaty forehead. I feel the cramps from the sex pollen return, and I groan before I answer him.

"Az, I can't take it anymore, either you move or I swear I'm going to flip you over and start doing what I need to do on my own." I say, trying to move my hips slightly and create some friction, but he stops me, resting his hips on mine and giving that silly little smile that makes him so sexy.

"Oh, I can't wait to see you ride my cock, but I'd say leave that experience for another time. Tonight is just for you, and for your pleasure." He comments and then begins to move.

Immediately I feel every single part of the universe fall into place as he gradually increases his speed. My body seems to be persecuted everywhere with shivers of pleasure as his lips rest lightly on my breasts again. Between his mouth, his cock, and the sex pollen in my body my orgasm seems to come with a speed I never expected.

"Please Az, don't stop." I say groaning, feeling the pleasure grow more and more every second.

"Oh baby I could never deprive myself of the feeling of my cock against your cervix. You're going to come, aren't you?" She whispers back as I try to nod. "Then we'll come together love."

"Yes, please Az fill me." I continue, and I feel her muscles tense even more under my touch.

"Honey don't challenge me, you know I could fuck you so hard you wouldn't walk tomorrow even if you prayed to Mother." He counters by increasing his speed.

"It would certainly be worth it." I answer as I now feel I am on the edge of oblivion, just one thrust would be enough to sink into pleasure. I hold my breath for a moment as I feel him move for the last time before my body begins to move in convulsions of pleasure, and my vision becomes totally blurred.

I feel him releasing all his semen inside me shortly after coming, and I feel him lying on top of me, relaxing.

We stay like that for a few minutes before he starts laughing. I look at him not understanding why he is laughing until he explains himself.

"God, I guess in the end I will have Rhys to thank for this mission." Whispers Az.

"Actually it wasn't that bad." I comment, laughing in turn.

"Let's say it had its upsides." He replies with a wink. "But don't think it's over here, wait until you get home, and when I'm done with you the only thing you'll remember is my name."

Yes I would say we definitely have Rhys to thank.

TAGLIST

@horneybeach1 @peachyxrosie @whoreforblackhill @forsiriussake @ash04w3 @l3viathanpup @ohemgeewhat @123345566 @kidsaproblem @lust4lucille @lisamanban123 @alina02 @shodowbane09 @supernatural-lvr

[winterarmyy]

Behind The Facades | Part II

An unrequited pining over a certain super solider.

Navigation: Part I || Part II || Part III (end)

Words: 3.3k++

Pairings: avenger!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: angst. pent up anger. unspoken jealousy. conflicted feelings.

P/S: i heard you. i got you. since lots of you enjoyed the supposedly oneshot, so i decided to do a continuation for this couple. Hope you enjoy~

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Weeks gone by, months flown through and the team was already accustomed Bucky's girlfriend wandering around the tower. Though they thought she would move-in eventually, knowing that Tony allowed them to do so, but she hadn't done it yet.

While Y/N, on the other hand, felt like she was constantly walking on thin ice. Being tug in between holding herself together and breaking down.

What's worst about this was, deep down, Y/N wanted to hate her.

Gail Richards.

Bucky's girl.

A gorgeous red-head, sultry champagne-colored eyes, a deep dimple on her right cheek, sculptured body of goddess and heart of gold.

Y/N got to admit that she hated how perfect Gail was for Bucky. She had such a kind soul; it's impossible not to fall for her. In hindsight, she was exactly what Bucky needed in his life.

What he deserve.

And in the end, Gail managed to steal not just Bucky's heart, but also the entire team's.

Including Y/N herself.

The friendship between Gail and Y/N was true and genuine; even if it hurts her everytime when she was forced to see Gail canoodling with the man she had fallen madly in love with.

"So where's the date? Did he tell you or is it a surprise kind of thing?" Gail's questions snapped Y/N from her deep internal thoughts.

Her gaze fell into her own reflection in the mirror; she was fitted with a simple black satin dress, with a quite scandalous slit on one side on her thigh. Standing behind her, was Gail, helping her out with the pearl necklace she was graciously lending it to Y/N.

"I don't remember the name but it's that new michelin star restaurant." Y/N replied as she straighten her dress, suddenly feeling conscious of how tight the dress was hugging her body.

"Oh! I know that fancy new restaurant. It opened last week, right? Bucky and I haven't had the chance to go yet. I heard it's pretty hard to get reservation. I must say, I'm impressed."

While Gail seemed to approve of Y/N's date, she didn't notice the way Y/N's body froze as she mentioned Bucky's name.

Her fingers were itching to dug it's nails somewhere, anywhere; as she try to keep her composure as neutral as possible, "Yeah, I'll definitely give you my review before you guys go on a date there. Who knows if its not up to the standards, right?"

Oh, how desperate she was on wanting to hide her pain away.

"That's great, y/n! But, I'd rather you actually enjoy the date rather than secretly being an undercover food critique. Forget about everything and have fun for once! Who knows this one is a keeper, huh?" Gail rubbed her hands to side of Y/N's arms; her eyes brighten as she encouraged her.

Ignorance is truly a bliss; though it's not that she knows that Y/N had been in love with Bucky this whole time.

On the other hand, Bucky was starting to feel the effects of what Gail had warned him before. He doesn't want to feel like she doesn't love him because she does.

At least she tries to.

Persuing Gail was not necessarily easy; not because he was lacking or she played hard to get. But because of how honest she was; how self aware she was.

"Being with me is a hell of a challenge, Bucky. My emotions are unpredictable. Today, I will love you ever so truly; I will drown you with all the kisses and cuddles you could ever imagine but the next day you might not being able to talk to me or even see me."

"I'll go M.I.A and isolate myself from the world at any time, with no warning. I shut down without any reason."

"I might not be there for you when you needed me the most. I might abandon you when all you wanted for me to stay."

"Worst part about it is I won't feel sorry for what I did because I can barely feel anything during those time."

But he insisted to try.

Maybe it was the sudden surge of passion when he met her but he was determined that they could make it work.

So, try they did.

As his relationship with Gail progresses, his and y/n's started to astray. He noticed y/n has been keeping her distance with him since he got together with Gail.

She had been cooped up in her room more often. There was a gradual changes in their schedule. Lesser trips to the corndog stall that y/n was obsessed with, canceled trips on visiting Alpine, the cute little kitten they have been eyeing at the adoption center, and almost none of the late night coffee trips.

He missed her.

From her annoying laugh to her odd habit of scratching things in her sleep.

Her smile, her voice, her presence.

He missed all of it.

He missed her.

Which was why Bucky thought it was better to talk it out with her. Maybe there was some sort of misunderstanding that needed to be clear out.

It took just single knock before Bucky intrude himself into Y/N's room, "Hey, y/n I don't want to disturb you but can we..." Bucky's sentence did not managed to end with a period, thus his words was instead left hanging just like his mouth.

"Oh, wow."

For a moment there, Bucky literally forgot how to breath. It was as if the reality around him was deteriorating, leaving just the perfect view of Y/N. For a split second, his gaze seemed to dilated into a trance, slowly getting bewitched by the beauty before him.

Bucky was so captivated by how, almost sinfully, beautiful Y/N looked in that dress, he didn't notice his own girlfriend was standing right next to her.

Gail carefully slide her way towards Bucky as she prompted, "So... what do you think, Buck? Gorgeous isn't she?" A dreamy sigh escaped from Gail's lips as she admire the woman in front of her.

"Yes. Yes, she is."

Those were the words Bucky wanted to say but his mouth wasn't listening to his heart, rather it followed his head, "I didn't know you were coming over, honey." Bucky arms reached towards Gail as he scooped her close to him, placing a soft kiss on her cheek.

It was subtle but if they paid enough attention, they could see how Y/N's gaze quickly shifted downwards to her feet. Her teeth sunk between the insides of her left cheek as an effort to distract herself from the thunderstorm within her chest. A little bit more force on her teeth would've tore her up and left her bleeding from the inside.

How much longer she must be in this torment? How much suffering her heart needs to endure until it adapt to the pain? She's tired of the ache in her chest but at the same time she can't help it when her heart yearn for a love that's never going to be hers.

"Well? Is she not goddamn beautiful?" Gail playfully slapped Bucky's arm, demanding her question to be answered.

"I mean..." Bucky stuttered to find words. Especially when those round doe eyes of Y/N's spark with anticipation.

All those milliseconds of time Bucky had to think of an appropriate, truthful answer but somehow he only come up with, "...i guess, you could do better."

Idiot.

Straight up dumb.

Bucky immediately regret his words when the gleam in Y/N's eyes suddenly faded; turning into something cold and stoic.

Gail huffed in denial, before taking Y/N's side, "Then you sir, need to check your eyes because she's absolutely stunning". Y/N gave a small smile as Gail pulled her for a side hug.

"Why are you dressed up anyway?" Bucky wanted change the topic before he said something stupid again.

There was a noticeable pause on Y/N's side as he asked, as if she was unwilling to tell him. However, the reluctantcy only arouses his curiosity.

Y/N turned around and faced the mirror. As she fixed the necklace near her collarbone, she made an eye contact with Bucky through his reflection and answered, "I have a date."

Something shifted in the air; as if it was getting heavier, sturdier.

"Who's the guy?" Bucky was clearly not amused with the idea. It barely filtered through his stern tone.

"Daniel. One of the SHIELD agent I worked with before." Y/N noticed how his expression morphed into a frown.

"Why is he making that face? "

Bucky seethed, "That douchebag? Really y/n?" There's a hint of disappointment in his voice; like how a father would scold his daughter of doing something stupid.

And that ticked her off.

She's a grown-ass woman; she can do whatever she wants, date whoever she wants. None of it was Bucky's concern.

"What do you mean?" Annoyance flowed through her tone.

Bucky rolled his eyes as he recognized that name.

Daniel.

That scumbag whose always staring at her. And not in a cute, crush-like way. There's nothing innocent about the way he stare at Y/N's ass and boobs, or always finding excuses to touch her.

However, Y/N has been oblivious to it since Bucky had always been with her.

Since when did that douche got close to Y/N? How did he managed to get Y/N agree to go to a fucking date with him? More importantly, how did Bucky not know all of this?

There was this uncontrollable, unexplainable rage within Bucky that he was unable to contain; like a venomous poison it seeped through his head, "Are you that needy to even consider going out with such scum? Come on, y/n. You're being naive, it's ridiculous." Bucky scoffed as his tone laced with scorn and mockery.

Gail gasped in complete shock, "What is wrong with you, Bucky? That's not--"

"That's not fair. How can you have the luxury to fall in love and lived happily ever after while I have to continue to break and break, again and again?"

"Ridiculous? Am I a fucking joke to you, Bucky?!" Y/N could hold back her own anger as she turned towards him. His face remained the way that it is; red and furious and he was not willing to put his ego down either.

"You know what?" Y/N swerved towards the bed, "I am going to go this date with Daniel, whether you like or not..." She took her purse on the edge of the mattress, "...and I am going to enjoy every second of it!"

"Thanks, Gail. I really appreciate your help today." Y/N smiled as she briefly took Gail's hands into hers. Blinking in confusion, Gail replied, "Y-yeah.. sure--" though her speech was cut short when Y/N interrupted.

"And you!" Y/N shot a glare towards Bucky before marching towards him, "You can go fuck yourself." She clashed her shoulders into Bucky's before walking out her own room.

Bucky gritted his teeth; his jaw clenched in pure vexation as his frown grew deeper.

Looking at her very angry looking boyfriend, Gail let out a tired sigh, "Why would you say such thing to her, Bucky?

Why did he say those things?

He could explain it much better way, knowing that he had plausible reason to why he thinks she should not go to this date.

But, why did he not do that?

Why did he lash out and spat those hurtful things to her?

Even Bucky himself was not sure why.

After that Bucky spent the rest of the night at the gym, and this was the third punching bag that he had completely destroyed. He could see his girlfriend coming in from the corner of his eyes, with an emergency kit in her hand.

She sat at a nearby bench before, "Bucky sweetheart, come here." Gail softly asked him sit with her.

Despite the grunts and gruffs that slipped from his lips, he still obeyed her; though partially was because she had been sternly staring at him.

Gail gently remove his boxing glove of his right hand, then lo and behold his knuckles was crushed and bloodied.

"The wrappings is there for a reason, you know?" She knew he would this; especially when he is guided by rage. Bucky remained silent, knowing that if he did not control his anger first; then he would probably do the same thing he did to Y/N again.

There was a comfortable silence as Gail was tending his wounds. Bucky looked down at her, focusing on cleaning the wounds. She was always careful and tender while handling Bucky; as if she was taking care of a child.

"You love her, don't you?" Gail calmly asked as she started to wrap Bucky's hand.

The question caught him by surprise, "What do you mean?"

She chuckled softly, "y/n. You love her. Am I right?" she reclarify.

It didn't need a genius to figure out how Bucky truly feels about Y/N. Even if he himself if not aware of his own feelings.

But she can see right through him.

She noticed how attentive was Bucky towards y/n. How he looked at her; like she's his whole world. How every single thing he does somehow relates back to Y/N; and he cannot go by a day without mentioning her name in their any conversation. How peaceful looked when y/n is anywhere near him.

She noticed every single one of those detail.

"Of couse, I do. It's y/n we're talking about here." Bucky replied as-matter-of-factly. Though there was some truth in his answer but it was not all.

Gail shook her head lightly as she holds Bucky's wounded hand in hers, "No, Bucky. You love her." Her brows crunched into a pleading curve as her gaze turned gentle.

Bucky frowned in confusion; he looked down at his hand where her thumb caressing his knuckles and he thought back all the moments he spent with y/n.

From the very first day he met her, on those nights she stayed with him, through thick and thin, her eyes on his, her smile on his cheek, her laugh in his arms, her voice in his ears, her skin on left arm, everything flashed through him so fast until a single moment when he realizes.

"I love her."

Gail recognized the glint his eyes, "And she loves you too, Buck." She coaxed.

The frown on his face turned into a shock as she spoke. Even if Y/N does love him, what does that mean?

"What are you saying?"

"Go." Her voice were somehow calmer than she was supposed to speak in such a dire situation.

Bucky knew what she meant; he knew what those eyes were telling him, "Gail, you--"

She cut him before he could say anything, "We did agree to see where will this take us..." her smiled was somehow bitter-sweet, "And I guess this is our end of the line."

A hit of pain struck Bucky's heart, "You don't have to do this." His left hand raised to tenderly cupped her cheeks; it was warm. Unlike his winter cold hand, she was warm. Like the soft heat from the morning sun.

She placed her hand on top of his as she craved a reassuring smile, "I want to."

And that broke Bucky's heart. And it broke for her.

He loved Gail.

All the feelings he felt for her was real. As real as the feelings he felt for Y/N. The only difference was he didn't realized he was in love with Y/N, but he did with Gail.

"And to be honest, I'm not sure I can keep up with the emotional commitments, I'm always M.I.A and lost in my own head..."

As Gail starts to ramble, Bucky wasn't hearing any of it. His eyes stings and his vision blurred.

There was only so much any man can handle.

There was joy in realizing his was in love with Y/N but there was also agony in knowing he had to break Gail's heart. Unable to hold back his emotions anymore, his tears finally broke out.

She was prepared not to cry today but seeing Bucky like this; who wouldn't tear up, right?

"Hey hey hey, I'll be okay. We'll be okay." She placed her palm on Bucky's cheeks, wiping away the tears with her thumb as she lead his gaze to her own.

"Bucky, listen to me. I don't want you feeling like you're alone." she cooed, her eyes had gotten glassy as tears filled within them. "You deserve so much more than what I can offer you, do you understand?" Bucky can simply nod as he feels like his voice will betray him.

"Good." Gail closed her eyes and leaned into a kiss. A soft innocent kiss on his forehead, as their tears fall on each other's bare skin, "Now, go get your girl."

<< Part I || Part III >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Feel free to leave some feedback behind! And what do you think of Gail? I thought it'd be nice to have a different characteristics for her instead of the cliche 'bitchy and rude' girlfriend.

There's no actual taglist. So, I only include those who reblogged with comments and/or commented on the previous part. However, do tell if you want or do not want to be tagged.

Taglist: @ghostofwinter @angstysebfan @erinallene @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @paarthurnax59 @nomajdetective @kentokaze @dexter99 @nana1000night @prettyinpink350

[shitsndgiggs]

Hi!!

Well I have a request for Kenan.

Can you write something about the reader and him goes for Kenans cousins wedding in Turkey so she meets with his relatives for the first time and try to learn more about the culture cause she is half german and half Turkish

EMBRACING THE CULTURE - KENAN YILDIZ

Kenan taking you to his cousins wedding

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The moment our plane touched down in Istanbul, I could feel the flutter of nerves in my stomach. This wasn’t just another trip—it was the first time I’d be meeting Kenan’s extended family, and it was also my first time attending a traditional Turkish wedding.

To say I was nervous would be an understatement.

Kenan’s family was hosting the wedding for one of his cousins, and while I was excited, the idea of meeting so many relatives at once was a bit overwhelming.

Though I’m half-Turkish myself, I’d grown up mostly in Germany and hadn’t had much exposure to Turkish culture. Kenan, on the other hand, was deeper connected to his roots, and I couldn’t help but feel a bit out of place.

Kenan had been patient with me in the weeks leading up to this trip, teaching me Turkish phrases, explaining cultural customs, and walking me through what to expect at the wedding.

Still, as we stepped off the plane into the warm Istanbul air, I couldn’t shake the butterflies in my stomach.

Kenan must have sensed my anxiety because he squeezed my hand gently as we made our way through the airport. “Don’t worry,” he said, his voice warm and reassuring. “My family’s going to love you.”

I nodded, offering him a small smile, even though my nerves were still bubbling beneath the surface. I knew he was right—Kenan’s family was bound to be kind and welcoming—but the thought of making a good impression weighed heavily on me.

—

As we finally approached the venue, a stunning seaside resort, I took a deep breath. The sounds of laughter, music, and celebration filled the air, and I knew there was no turning back now.

“Ready?” Kenan asked, his hand still holding mine as we stood outside the grand entrance.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I replied, trying to inject some confidence into my voice.

Kenan smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to my forehead. “You’ve got this,” he whispered.

With that, he led me inside, and I was immediately enveloped by the vibrant energy of the wedding. The room was a riot of color, with deep reds, golds, and blues adorning every surface.

Guests milled about, laughing, chatting, and dancing, and I felt a surge of excitement begin to push aside my nerves.

As we navigated through the crowd, Kenan introduced me to various family members. Each one greeted me warmly, with genuine smiles and kind words.

His aunts and uncles welcomed me with open arms, their affectionate greetings helping to put me at ease.

Kenan’s family was large and loud, in the best possible way. They were full of life, each person adding their own energy to the celebration.

One of his aunts, a petite woman with a kind smile, pulled me aside to chat. She spoke in Turkish, her words flowing quickly, and I did my best to follow along.

“I’m so happy to meet you,” she said, her smile widening when I managed to respond in Turkish, albeit a bit clumsily. “Kenan is very lucky.”

“I’m the lucky one,” I replied, smiling back at her, though I was still nervous about making a mistake.

Kenan hovered nearby, close enough to step in if I needed help but giving me the space to navigate these interactions on my own.

I appreciated that—he was always so in tune with my needs, knowing when to step in and when to let me take the lead.

Eventually, Kenan excused himself to catch up with some relatives he hadn’t seen in a while, leaving me to explore on my own.

I wandered around, taking in the details of the event. The traditional attire worn by some of the older guests was beautiful, and I admired the intricate designs and rich colors.

Later in the evening, I found myself sitting with a group of Kenan’s younger cousins.

They were excited to teach me some turkish words, sharing stories and what to expect throughout the night.

One of the girls, a bright-eyed teenager with a mischievous grin, offered to teach me a traditional dance.

I hesitated, feeling self-conscious, but her enthusiasm was contagious. “Come on, it’s easy!” she encouraged in a mix of Turkish and English.

With her guidance, I stood up and began mimicking her movements. The first few steps were awkward, but as I found my rhythm, I began to enjoy myself.

The laughter and cheers from those around us made the experience even more fun, and for the first time that night, I felt completely at ease.

Kenan spotted me from across the room and smiled, clearly proud of how I was embracing the culture.

When I eventually returned to his side, slightly out of breath, he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me close.

“You’re doing great,” he whispered, his voice full of warmth.

“I’m trying,” I replied with a laugh, resting my head on his shoulder. “And I’m having a lot of fun.”

“I told you,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “You’re a natural.”

As the night wore on, Kenan and I slipped away from the festivities for a moment of quiet. We walked along the beach, the cool sand beneath our feet and the sound of the waves providing a peaceful backdrop.

Kenan stopped and turned to face me, his hands resting gently on my hips. His eyes searched mine, filled with a depth of emotion that made my heart skip a beat.

“Thank you for doing this,” he said softly.

“For what?” I asked, genuinely surprised.

“For being here, for making an effort to connect with my family and my culture,” he replied. “It means more to me than you know.”

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me. “It’s my culture too, Kenan,” I said, placing a hand on his cheek. “I want to learn everything I can about it.”

His expression softened, and he leaned down to kiss me, his lips brushing against mine in a tender, lingering kiss.

The world around us seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of us in this perfect moment.

When we finally pulled away, Kenan rested his forehead against mine, his breath warm against my skin. “I’m really glad you’re here,” he murmured. “I can’t wait for you to meet the rest of the family tomorrow.”

I laughed softly. “There’s more?”

“Oh, yes,” he said with a chuckle. “A LOT more.”

[paradoxlemonade]

Nature of Curiousity

Fandom: Hermitcraft

Characters: Joe & Cleo

words: 1024

Warnings: very mild body horror (Cleo is embroidering on Joe, but he's made of fabric and does not feel pain)

Ao3: Here!

Summary: Joe Hills the puppet wants to make friends with humans. The humans do not want to be made friends with. Cleo puts him back together afterwards. [Abecedarian Prose Poem]

@mcyt-valentines gift for @therizino-ao3! Hope you enjoy :]

...

A sunrise the color of a bitter lemon tea beckons in the fresh morning scent of grass and dreams, soft around the edges and losing their remaining sharpness as sleep turns to wakefulness. Beneath an old willow tree, a corpse as fresh as the day it died rests in the dewy grass and embroiders artful designs into her best friend’s shoulder.

Cleo huffs at him, “You know, it would’ve been nice if you had waited until at least breakfast to go galavanting around and get yourself shot by a humanfolk.”

Dauntlessly undeterred as per usual, Joe merely smiles serenely and says, “But I must watch them, as the rain must fall and snow must melt; it is in my nature, sewn into my skin.”

Even-spaced threads holding his innards on the right side of the felt are the only thing decorating his skin, by Cleo’s own observation.

“Fine as that may be, your ‘nature’ does not make you invincible to arrows.” Generally speaking, being made of cloth made Joe invincible to very little, save for perhaps pain and common sense. He would grow tired of his game eventually, and then he would stop attempting to consort with the humanfolk (at least, Cleo hoped he would tire of it).

“If I am endlessly repairable no matter my condition, is that not a form of invincibility?”

 “Joe, you can only be repaired if I have the pieces to put you back together; if the humanfolk decide it would be more fun to capture you instead of running you off, you would be in more pieces than magic thread could possibly hold together.”

“Killjoys—that being people who deny my innermost whimsy, that being you—” he gestured at her with the arm not being worked on, “should not judge how one chooses to express themself, especially when they are themselves of humanfolk blood.”

Less ever said about one Joe Hills’ innermost whimsy, the more sane one would be, as neither consistency nor thoughts of sound minds are facets of his being.

Minutes flow around them like a gentle brook as Cleo continues her stitchwork and pointedly does not give his comments the dignity of a direct response, at least until she thinks of one worth saying.

“No humanfolk,” she began slowly, “Would consider me possible by their understanding of the world, let alone ‘of their blood’; I have not been theirs for a very long time.” One day was all it took to lose everything that she’d built over the course of her entire life, as one day was all it took for the sickness that ravaged her village like a pack of wolves descending on a flock of sheep to bury her in an early grave that she didn’t stay put in.

“Perhaps that much is fair and you have no love left for them, but I have never been theirs; the humanfolk ways are unlike our own, and I find myself pulled in again and again despite all attempts to the contrary.”

Quickly fleeting curiosity would be too much to ask, she supposed, as temporary passion was also as antithetical to Joe’s nature as he claimed sedation to be.

 “Really, you can’t be all too mad at me for this, because if you were as upset as you pretend to be, you wouldn’t have offered to sew me back up, and you certainly wouldn’t have added these nice yellow flowers without me needing to ask.”

She glances down to her hands as if seeing them for the first time that morning, the hands that gently wove the thread in and out of his fabric skin with a practiced ease and the comfort of a close friend. This conversation—despite its distances—has still grown much too close to an uncomfortable shard of glass nestled deep into her chest, digging and poking into the soft tissue beneath her heart that she could not excise no matter how strong her will. 

“Unfortunately, we still live in a world where I need to sew you back up for reasons other than your own foolishness, and it’s not like I could simply let someone I’ve worked on walk around looking like I did the job carelessly.” 

Vexed enough by her candid response, Joe allows the conversation to wander along to more familiar territory by changing the topic with all the subtlety he could muster—that is, not a whole lot.

 “What type of flowers are these meant to be, anyway?” Joe asks, stretching to see Cleo’s handiwork.

“Xyris flowers, of some kind; they’re all over around here and you seem to like them well enough that I didn’t think you would mind if I put some on your arm.”

Yellow petals of soft thread cascade from the top of his shoulder down midway to his elbow, just shy of of meeting up with the dusky green vines—those were almost ready to come out, but the new stitches would have to stay for a few weeks so the fabric could knit itself back together. Zero weeks have gone in recent memory that did not end with one of Cleo’s friends needing stitches (usually Joe, and usually for silly and-or humanfolk reasons), but she never stopped pulling out her needle and thread before they could even apologize for bothering her.

And as Joe thanks her for the help and the flowers, she leads him back to her house for an early breakfast to cap off an odd morning, all the while dreaming of a world where the humanfolk and the otherfolk didn’t have to live on opposite sides of the veil, and Joe could make strangers into friends.

 Better worlds and broken hearts are playing cards of the same set, but a card for resilience is also shuffled into that same deck. Crisp toast and peppery fried eggs aren’t quite miracle workers, but they’re enough to bring Cleo back up to normal when combined with good company. Dreams weren’t going to come true on their own, but maybe Joe was onto something with his adventures.

 Everything considered, it took him an hour longer than last time to get run off.

[percheduphere]

It troubles me when fans find Loki in his own tv series "out of character". Since the first Thor movie, Loki has shown a certain sweetness, protectiveness, and level-headedness that was overcome and eventually self-suppressed by rage and tragedy. He didn't have an environment in which he could thrive and, in Frigga's words, succeed at being who he truly is.

Loki desperately needed a support system outside his immediate family. That support system simply couldn't have been built on Asgard because of:

1. Odin's political machinations, including the intentional creation of an environment rife with sibling rivalry and blatant favoritism.

2. The racist if not xenophobic views of Asgardians.

3. The inherent masculine-dominant, warrior society culture of Asgard.

To break Loki out of his self-destructive patterns, it took the empathy of 1 brainwashed and memory-wiped TVA analyst to rightly recognize that Loki as a person has incredible potential and that he could actively do something about it. That Mobius uses this reasoning for the advantage of the TVA (then under HWR's helm) is a plot point I'll discuss later, but the fact still stands: Loki was given a second chance to be who he really is because of the choice Mobius made to intervene. Loki would have been pruned before he would have had the opportunity to meet Sylvie, B-15, Casey, and OB. This is fact.

Mobius literally drops everything--the case he's actively investigating--to intervene. The fact a minuteman immediately reports the variant of Loki he is most interested in has been taken into custody suggests that Mobius has been planning this intervention for some time.

Some fans hate Mobius for his treatment of Loki in the first episode. It is, indeed, manipulative, condescending, and to a certain extent, emotionally abusive. I'm not denying any of this, but from a narrative perspective, Mobius, to be a fully well-rounded character, necessarily must have his own flaws and personal conflicts to battle. Loki's evolution as a character, and thus his positive impact on others, would be missing an emotional beat of mutual reciprocation otherwise. That emotional beat pays off in every episode of S2, culminating in the final scene of the final episode. This is to say nothing of the likelihood that Loki would not have been receptive to any form of gentleness at that point in time to begin with.

Crucially, Mobius gets Loki to admit that his villainous persona is exactly that: an illusion constructed in a bid for control. Some viewers might interpret this scene as a shortcut for getting Loki to behave "out of character" by S1E2, but Thor 2 proves otherwise:

This scene with Thor demonstrates that Loki has a high pain tolerance and is adept at hiding pain. His need to mask his vulnerability, and how that vulnerability is intrinsically tied with the misplaced shame of who he is, resonates deeply with queer, people of color, immigrant, colonized, and adopted fans, many of whom have intersectional lived experiences (including myself). I believe it is for this reason that so many of us are desperate for blatant representation in mainstream entertainment, and to shame us for the sin of hoping is disturbing.

But I digress. Frigga, Thor, and now Mobius are among the few who can see through Loki's deception. That deception has the unfortunate effect of hurting not only innocent civillians but his loved ones and himself (closeting, internalized racism).

Once Loki is able to drop that persona through admission, however, he is able to relax and be himself in the TVA. And in being himself, Loki is consequently able to love himself, which manifests through loving Sylvie. S1 shows Loki holding her up on a romantic pedestal: he chases after her, he sings a song for her, he wants her to be okay. He loves her, yes, and though it appears she does not reciprocate (in my opinion, your mileage might vary), Sylvie does love Loki enough back to buy him a drink and counsel him about what he really wants. This scene is critical in Loki's development in the same way Mobius sheds light on his potential to be whoever he wants.

Both Mobius and Sylvie are integral for Loki to arrive at his turning point, his ultimate sacrifice. Loki loves Sylvie. He therefore chooses to not kill her. Killing her, moreover, would not solve the issue of free will. Sylvie is right in believing free will, and thus the multiverse, is right and necessary. Sylvie's moral question and Loki sparing her life, answers Mobius's belief that Loki can be whoever he wants.

On the other side of this coin, watching Mobius in the final scene, hearing Mobius whisper, "Let time pass..." answers Sylvie's question of what Loki wants, and what he want more deeply than not being alone is for his friends, most especially Mobius (whom he also loves and cares for most, to LIVE.

The series ends with only 2 characters heartbroken with the outcome of Loki's heroism, which Mobius knew existed within him from the beginning. He saw those little but important moments: Loki comforting his brother, Loki protecting Jane, Loki giving up his life to buy Thor time, and so much more, he saw and he knew Frigga's words were right.

[ecstarry]

"the one with the breakup" - James' letter, this is for him, not all endings must be sad, there is something just as beautiful in love changing

Dear Regulus,

I think we will be okay. I had been too afraid, I still wonder of what exactly, but the closest thing to an answer I can come up with is me. Because you bring so much light to my life, and I kept getting told that I’m the one who shines but for so long I could not see it, not if you were not looking at me. But now, I can finally feel my own warmth.

I didn’t know who I was without your name attached to mine, I still don’t, but fear should not be what is holding us together. We deserve everything, love, oh god, we truly deserve everything. For so long we thought that growing up together also meant growing old together, we were desperately clawing our nails into each other, afraid that if we let go the mark that was left, just as our story, would eventually fade. But one thing I know, is my heart will never not know your name, it will be embroidered with a thread of your favorite color. 

My love for you will persist, and I know yours for me too, but we can’t help it, can we? That for as much as we want to need each other, we no longer do. But that’s okay, we are okay. We can love each other this way, we will learn how to. 

We have so much life ahead of us, so much love to left to give still, and I just know we will find someone who gives each of us what we no longer can. I can give you tenderness, I can give you my love, but I can no longer give you desire and neither can you. 

Thank you, baby. Your love healed every little broken piece I had when we met, and I can only hope I had half the significance you had on me. Because you saw me, and I know it isn’t supposed to happen this way, but you did love me enough for me to start loving myself. I am no longer afraid of myself.

Here I am then, reminding you that we did nothing wrong, sometimes friends turn into lovers and then, to friends again and that’s just as beautiful. We will always have each other, and one day, it will stop hurting this much, we just need to be patient love, but we will be okay. I know that.

I love you forever,

James

[stayevildarling]

Wilhemina Venable x Reader- Fade into you

A/N: Honestly I never expected Mina to win this poll but I'm glad she did 🫶🏻 this is some soft AU Mina fluff

tw: mild mention of scoliosis, mild mention of sickness (temperature, flu), mention of pain medication, fluff

word count: 8k

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker, @billiebeanhoward, @lanawinters-ily, @kenzbro, @minaslittleone, @httpfiftyshadesofgay , @whitelotus00 , @ninaahs , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle , @paulsonsratched , @stepintomyworld , @grilledcheeseandguavajelly , @lucyintheskywithxanax , @fanfics4world , @mymiraclewitch , @hazard-to-myself , @awritersometime , @ohrwurm26 , @wastdstime ,

Wilhemina Venable was many things, incredibly smart, sassy, not afraid to hold back when someone annoyed her with their stupidity, she was an introvert, living in her own little life that she enjoyed including her routines. However she definitely wasn't outgoing, she wasn't one to consciously go to a social event, meet people voluntarily unless it was somehow included in her job for the company she works for.

And so it really was a surprise when you spotted her at the book club meeting at the library you had been working at for quite some time now. It certainly wasn't a career, but on the way to your degree, it certainly was a quiet part time job, paying the bills, while you got to be around the things you had always loved most- books. Your shift was almost finished, setting up the chairs and a little tea station for the book club meeting, people slowly drawing in from outside to discuss one of their favourite authors. And that's when you spotted her again, the mysterious woman with red hair, the sound of a cane echoing through the usual silent library following her wherever she went, as well as the color lilac that coated her beautiful features.

,,Wilhemina'' you think to yourself, your photogenic memory reminding you of her name when she first signed up a few months ago and how captivated you had been by her ever since. She was a regular at this point, at first really only coming in to get some books before disappearing again, always bringing them back on time, mostly a few days before she was meant to. Before she eventually spent every Wednesday afternoon at the library, assuming that must be her day off from work. It was undeniably a surprise to see her here tonight, as throughout the last few months you had never seen her engage with anyone before, always quiet, never exchanging too many words with you but you could see a depth behind her brown eyes that you definitely had gotten lost in a few times by now.

Through the dimly lit library, you watch as she approaches, the soft glow illuminating her features, wearing a lilac long skirt, matching jacket and a slightly darker shade collar, her heels and cane dancing on the floor, echoing through the quiet library, before more people draw in, blending out the noise. As she takes a seat, book neatly in her lap, you feel as her eyes linger on you, despite working on your tasks of neatly setting down the cups and biscuits for the book club members. While the meeting begins, you consider whether to join, having of course read the book, but deciding against it as you still had a pile of assignments to finish. However, before signing out from your computer, you decide to stay a little longer, retreating upstairs to the gallery, overlooking the library and ultimately book club meeting, typing away quietly on your computer, while still observing carefully.

Despite your best attempts, you couldn't stop glancing at the scene downstairs, hearing them chat, laugh and read some pages, your eyes always darting back to the mysterious woman named Wilhemina. And whenever your eyes averted them, focusing your attention on your screen and work again, you missed how the same mysterious woman would glance towards you, having of course noticed your absence and where you had retreated to, unaware that she was equally captivated by you. Some time passes, enough time for you to mostly finish a draft for your essay, and so glancing at the time, you collect your things, knowing you would have to do this all over again tomorrow, arrive at work for the early shift and having to balance your assignments.

After heading downstairs, you catch one last glimpse of Wilhemina, still engrossed in her book, her expression unreadable. You can't shake the feeling of curiosity about her, about what she's like beyond the surface, beyond the walls she put up around herself. As you pass by the book club members, you exchange polite smiles and nods, but your mind is elsewhere, still thinking about the redhead woman. She was like a puzzle, one you can't quite solve, a mystery waiting to be unravelled. Nevertheless you head towards home, her gaze following you as you exit the library, wanting to urgently catch up on some rest before returning tomorrow.

As the sun begins it's descent, casting a warm golden glow over the city, you find yourself once again at the library, preparing for another day of work. Today is Wednesday and for some reason you can't shake the anticipation of seeing Wilhemina again. Her presence lingers in your thoughts since last night, her mysterious aura captivating your mind.

The clock ticks closer to the afternoon, and it's no surprise as you hear the familiar sound of the library door opening, heels and a cane tapping softly against the flooring. There she is, Wilhemina Venable, stepping into the quiet sanctuary of books. Her lilac attire stands out against the muted colours of the library, her presence both ethereal and comforting.

,,Good afternoon Ms Venable'' you greet her as she approaches your desk, your features soft. She carries a stack of books in a bag, before retreating them one by one and passing them to you, including her pass with an equally warm smile ,,Good afternoon'' she greets you.

,,Returning these?" you ask softly, internally scolding yourself as it was quite obvious that she was returning those. The redhead woman nods, causing for a rush of nervous energy to course through you.

,,Not much of a crime fan?'' she startles you as you scan her pass, the woman pointing towards the book you had been reading next to your computer. Your eyebrows furrow, before she speaks again ,,I couldn't help but notice your absence last night'' she fills you in before your mouth forms an O shape in realisation of her words.

,,Oh, I.. I had some work to catch up on'' you reply, a hint of sheepishness in your voice. ,,Essays and assignments, you know how it is''. As you speak she listens intently to your every words, reading each one of your expression as if she was equally studying you like some book. As if she wanted to read every page, unravel each little thing about you.

The woman simply nods understandingly as you pass her back her library pass, a glint of something in her eyes, a curiosity that mirrors your own. ,,Perhaps next time'' she suggests, her lips quirking into a small smile. As your surprised eyes meet hers, the shock of her invitation quite literally written across your features, she is quick to add ,,It's always nice to have a new perspective in the discussion'' causing you to quickly force a polite smile.

,,Definitely Ms Venable'' you assure, feeling a sense of warmth spread through you at her words. You watch as she leaves, retreating to the usual shelves of books that must be her favourite genre to read before she disappears in the maze of the library, the countless shelves, thousands of books and people blending in the darkness of the library, despite the soft glow around, mixed with the beginning sunset.

The atmosphere in the library feels charged with the energy of the woman's presence, her departure leaving you with a sense of longing and curiosity. You can't help but wonder what it would be like to spend more time with her, to unravel the layers of mystery that surround her. As the day goes on, you find yourself lost in thoughts, your mind wandering back to the woman. Despite the tasks of shelving books and helping people, her image almost vividly lingers on your mind, her lilac presence haunting your thoughts.

When your shift finally comes to an end, closing up for the night before heading out the library, the golden rays of the sun setting, cast a long shadow on the sidewalk. As you make your way home, you can't help the feeling of excitement that bubbles within you, the prospect of seeing the woman again, filling you with anticipation.

The days pass by in a whirlwind of work, study and the occasional thoughts of Wilhemina. Each day, you find yourself eagerly anticipating the next book club meeting, the woman lingering in your mind like a sweet melody. As the week progresses, you make sure to read up on the book that the club will be discussing, spending your evening lost in it's pages, in the world of the story, eager to be prepared for the discussion.

Finally, the day of the book club meeting arrives, again stacking up the little tea and biscuit table and setting out the chairs neatly. It doesn't take long before the usual group of book club members gather, chatting animatedly amongst themselves. You spot Wilhemina sitting in her usual spot, book tugged on her lap in the same usual way. Taking a deep breath, you join the group, feeling a sense of belonging wash over you as you take your seat. The discussion begins and you find yourself eagerly participating, sharing your thoughts and insights on the book.

As the evening progresses, you find yourself drawn to the redhead woman sitting across from you, the two of you occasionally exchanging glances and subtle smiles as the conversation flows around you. You could tell she wasn't too pleased with one of the members, named Karen who's opinions are definitely controversial, noticing the grip around her cane tighten whenever the woman spoke and even the occasional eye roll, going unnoticed by the group but not you, ever perceptive. You find yourself chuckling silently at her antics, taken back by the captivating redhead.

After the meeting comes to an end, you find yourself reaching for a little to go cup and filling it with some tea, knowing the journey home would be longer today, considering you missed your usual bus connection. While the noise from the members leaving, slowly draws out, you are a little startled as you hear cane taps echo behind you, causing you to turn around and catch a glimpse of Wilhemina. ,,I'm glad you could make it'' she remarks, giving you a warm smile before the two of you opt for walking out together. ,,Thank you Ms Venable'' you remark, your heart beating fast and loud against your chest as the two of you make it out of the quiet library and into the jungle of the city, filled with noises and cars and people rushing past you both.

,,Usual shift tomorrow?'' she questions curiously, her brown eyes meeting yours. ,,Yes'' you confirm with a warm smile, before she nods. ,,See you tomorrow'' she remarks before the two of you part ways with a polite nod. You linger for a little longer, watching as she disappears into the crowds, before turning on your heels and making your way home, the puzzle pieces finally adding together. Tonight you had learned that just like you imagined, she was incredibly smart, she didn't speak all that much during the meeting but whenever she did, she managed to read and study the characters and story in a fascinating way, her words chosen with a depth that touched you. And you also learned that she was polite with you, however not holding back her disapproval of some other members who spoke much less composed than her, much less smart and engaged than her.

As the following day at the library unfolds, you find yourself stealing glances at Wilhemina whenever you can, your mind swirling with thoughts of the captivating redhead. Despite the steady flow of people coming in and out of the library, she remains in her usual spot, engrossed in a book.

You can't shake the feeling that you want to talk to her, to engage in conversation beyond the usual polite greeting you exchange. But a nagging voice of doubt in your mind holds you back, reminding you of the professional boundaries you should maintain. You had no idea of the woman she was outside of the library, the life she was living, the possibility of people in that said life and her relationships, not wanting to burden her with your presence.

Yet, as the afternoon wears on and the library grows quieter, the urge to speak to her becomes overwhelming. You find yourself making your way over to her corner, your heart beating a little faster with each step. ,,Ms Venable'' you start, clearing your throat nervously as you approach her. She looks up from her book, her brown eyes meeting yours with a curious gaze.

,,I hope you don't mind me interrupting you'' you continue, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in your stomach. ,,I couldn't help but notice you've been reading quite a bit lately, are you enjoying the book?''

The woman's lips curve into a small smile, and she nods then. ,,Yes it's been quite... captivating'' she replies. ,,In fact, I was wondering when the second part of this series is expected at the library''

You feel a wave of excitement at her question, grateful for the opportunity to engage in conversation with her. ,,Oh, let me check that for you'' you say eagerly, disappearing for a moment as you pull up the library database on your computer. After a quick search you find the information she is searching for, before returning.

,,It looks like the second part is due to arrive next week'' you inform her, glancing back up to meet her gaze. ,,Would you like me to reserve a copy for you?'' Her smile widens at your question, before she nods appreciatively ,,That would be wonderful, thank you'' she replies. ,,I'll definitely be looking forward to it''. Walking towards your desk again, she follows you, her library pass needed to finalise the reservation. ,,Thank you Miss-'' she begins, but you quickly interrupt her ,,it's Y/N'' you offer and she nods before smiling at you ,,Wilhemina''.

A few days pass, and as Wilhemina returns to the library, she notices your absence behind the desk, figuring it must be your day off today. She settles into her usual corner with her book, the familiarity of the library's surroundings providing her comfort. The truth was the redhead never had a lot of free time, mostly only her evenings, her career as HR demanding both physically and mentally. She eventually demanded a regular day off per week, wanting to focus more on herself, getting a decent hobby besides reading every night when she returned while the history channel played in the background. And so she had opted for the local library, reading about the book club meetings and regular events and she had enjoyed it ever since, despite not being the outgoing type.

As you step into the quiet space, your eyes find your coworker first, Janice, she was considerably older, should have retired by now but enjoyed working there regardless. You fall into some easy conversation with her, as she scolds you for showing up on your day off but telling her you just had some quick business. Wilhemina can't help but notice your presence, the sight filling her with a sense of warmth and you can't help but smile as you approach her.

,,Hi'' you greet her, your voice soft, yet filled with genuine warmth. ,,I hope you don't mind me stopping by on my day off'' you announce. Wilhemina looks up from her book, surprise flickering in her brown eyes before a small smile graces her lips. ,,Not at all, it's a pleasant surprise'' she admits, setting her book aside. ,,Is everything alright?'' she asks almost with a hint of concern in her features.

You nod before speaking ,,I just came by because I have something for you'' you explain, feeling a rush of nervous energy course through you, before retreating a book from your bag. ,,Is this?'' she questions, her eyebrows furrowing. ,,Yes it's the second part, I managed to get my hands on a copy a little early'' you explain as you pass it to her.

Her facial expression changes from a warm smile to almost an unreadable one and you worry whether you had upset her somehow, whether you had crossed a boundary with her. ,,Thank you, I appreciate it truly'' she thanks you, unaware that her reaction was due to her feeling deeply touched but the redhead woman not used to anyone going out of their way in order to do something for her.

,,Would you like to take a seat? that's if you're not busy?'' she offers, pointing towards the chair across from her. And you take it, sitting down opposite her. ,,What kind of books do you enjoy?'' she asks curiously.

And so, the two of you engage in a lively conversation about books, exchanging recommendations and discussing your favourite genres and authors. You quickly learn that Wilhemina enjoys both history books, as well as mystery and crimes, even the occasional romance and horror book. As you talk, you find yourself drawn to her passion for literature, her insights and recommendations sparkling your own curiosity. Before you know it, time seems to slip away, the library around you growing dimmer as the sun begins to set.

,,I'm sorry to interrupt, but I'm just closing up'' Janice informs you both, startling the two of you a little. ,,Of course'' Wilhemina remarks, the two of you quick to retreat your things. ,,Do you need any help closing up?'' you ask politely before your coworker chuckles ,,No darling, it's your day off'' she speaks before ushering you out. Wilhemina can't help but think about your kindness, as the two of you part ways, deeply touched by the gesture of you getting the book early for her.

Another week passes, and you find yourself in the all too familiar library, logging out of your computer before getting ready to close up, as you gather your things, you are startled when you hear the all too familiar sound of a cane and you instantly turn around as you watch the redhead approach. ,,Wilhemina'' you greet her politely, as you watch her glance around the empty library. You watch her eyebrows furrow before you recall the reasoning for her being there ,,Oh I'm so sorry, did you not get the memo?'' you ask, glancing at the note that explained this weeks meeting was cancelled due to the usual person running it being sick. She glances at it as well, scolding herself for not signing up for the newsletter that you had recommended, as she didn't want any spam emails. ,,No, I'm sorry'' she chuckles, her cheeks coated in a slight red. ,,I was just going to close up'' you announce and she joins you as the two of you walk outside and you locking all the doors.

,,I'm really sorry you came here for no reason'' you apologise, frowning a little as you feel bad. ,,It's fine'' she speaks softly as she takes in your features and notices some hesitation on your face ,,I don't suppose you-'' you begin but quickly stop yourself, fighting the rest of the words back as doubts fill your mind. She tilts her head curiously at your statement, her eyes encouraging you to go on ,,Do go on'' she speaks as her brown eyes pierce through you. ,,Would you like to get some coffee?'' you ask, quickly adding ,,We could talk some more about the book then, have our own little meeting you know?''. As you struggle with your words, covering up for the fact how nervous you are she can't help but smirk ever so slightly, as you avert her eyes. ,,I would love to'' she speaks, taking you by surprise as your shocked eyes meet her own.

As Wilhemina agrees to join you for coffee, you feel a rush of excitement and nerves coursing through you. The thought of spending time with her outside of the library fills you with both anticipation and a hint of anxiety. The two of you make your way over to a nearby cafe, the cool breeze of the evening refreshing against your skin as you walk and chat along the way. Once inside, you find a cozy corner and settle in, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air.

As you begin sipping your drinks, you find the words flowing naturally between you and the redhead. ,,So what did you think of the last book club meeting?'' you ask, trying to gauge her thoughts.

Wilhemina takes a thoughtful sip of her coffee before responding ,,It was interesting, to say the least. I always find it fascinating to hear different interpretations of the same story, you know?''. You agree nodding, ,,It's amazing how people can read the same book and come away with completely different perspectives'' you remark.

She smiles then, her eyes sparkling with intrigue ,,Exactly, that what makes literature so captivating, don't you think?''. You agree again ,,Definitely'' you reply, feeling a sense of excitement building between you two.

,,Although I couldn't help but sense your annoyance towards Karen'' you chuckle before her eyebrow shoots up in surprise. ,,Ugh don't even get me started'' she remarks, causing you to chuckle further.

,,So, what are you currently reading?" you ask curiously, before she leans back in her chair, a small smile playing on her lips. ,,I'm delving into some classic literature at the moment, as well as the second part of the book you got me, It's always been a passion of mine'' she explains as you listen intently to her every word.

,,That sounds fascinating'' you comment, genuinely interested. ,,I have always wanted to read more classics, but I never seem to find the time'' you admit. ,,Well if you ever need any recommendations, you know where to find me'' she says with a wink, and you can't help but chuckle at her playful tone.

,,So tell me a little bit more about yourself Y/N'' she ushers and you could tell she seemed much less tense, much less formal and taken back the way she usually was at the library.

,,I- well I study at university at the moment, close to finishing my degree and I work at the library part time, I live close-by actually'' you explain, a little unsure what she actually wanted to know.

The conversation continues to flow effortlessly, as you fill her in on what you are studying, your age, the things that you enjoy. She tells you about the company she works for, that she also lives close-by. With each passing moment, you find yourself drawn deeper into Wilhemina's world, feeling a connection growing between you that you can't quite explain yet.

Despite knowing you shouldn't, you can't help yourself and so the words quite literally blurt out of you ,,So what about you, are you in a relationship, married?''. Her eyes widen before she chuckles lowly ,,Me married?'' she scoffs then ,,Definitely not, dear'' and you can't help the blushing of your cheeks or ignoring the smirk playing on her features. ,,You?'' she asks curiously before you shake your head, feeling almost a little shy.

After some more conversation about your lives, the library and literature, the two of you part ways, both needing to head home for the night as you realised it was getting late. ,,It's been lovely'' you remark, causing the redhead to nod in agreement. ,,I feel the same way, We should do this again sometime'' she remarks, causing you to again blush under her gaze. ,,I would like that'' and with those words the two of you part ways.

On your way home, you can't help the big smile lingering across your face and spreading across your features. You feel yourself considerably drawn closer to the redhead woman, especially after learning more about her, your first instincts correct about her as she was utterly smart, even poetic at times and lovely to spend your time with. The fact that she wasn't taken only adds to your excitement, despite you not being able to ignore the almost self loathing way she answered your question and you quickly brush the thought away, assuming she couldn't see you in that way, despite the butterflies in each others stomach telling the opposite, but you totally unaware that she shared the same interest and feelings yet.

Within the next few months, the seasons slowly changing, both you and Wilhemina had grown closer, not only making the weekly book club meetings a thing but evenly your usual book chatter over coffee, weekly when your schedules allowed it. And you enjoyed it, feeling like becoming her friend, despite not being able to ignore the way your heart both beat and ached for her. You felt yourself drawn close to her, often awake at night wondering what it would feel like to hold her hand in your own, what it would feel like to be held in her arms, what it would feel like to capture her lips into your own. What it would be like to belong to her, to be hers but you knew it couldn't happen, your hopeless romantic side truly showing and the fact you had read too many romantic novels lately. You were unaware that the redhead felt equally drawn to you, a small voice in the back of her mind telling her that she shouldn't, that you are too young, too free to commit yourself to her and the burdens she carried with her.

Despite the love you felt for each other, neither of you felt like voicing it, or making a move and so it became the quiet love. Glances exchanged, her eyes meeting yours when you are working and stocking shelves with books, her eyes following as you balance on your tip toes with such ease to complete your task. Knowing glances at the book club meetings, knowing afterwards for your coffee date, you would make fun of Karen. And it remained a quiet love, sharing glances, falling into easy conversation, feeling complete when the other one was nearby. The only time when you grew hopeful had been a few days ago, when the rain was pouring down on you both after her usual afternoon at the library and you locking up, how she offered to drive you home, not wanting you to get caught in more rain and having to take public transport and you agreed reluctantly but she insisted, she drove past her house, pointing out that she did indeed live closely before dropping you off. But that was it, and despite you considering inviting her to your apartment, you felt like you couldn't, still thinking you had been reading this wrong and slowly accepting having her as a friend, a person to look out for and would equally look out for you.

However, when almost another week passed, not seeing Wilhemina at the book club meeting or her usual afternoon at the library, you grew increasingly worried. She never missed one of those, only having to miss the book club meeting once before for a work commitment and she let you know beforehand. And as you pack up tonight, you couldn't shake the anxious feeling in your bones and running through your veins. The rational side of your brain was telling you that she was probably caught up with work, given her career, or she simply didn't feel like it today. However your heart told you something was off, texting her in the afternoon after you had exchanged numbers a few months ago and frequently texting back and forth about books and other things.

Opting to walk home tonight to clear your thoughts, letting the sun slowly setting, illuminate your features, breathing in the fresh but cold air, your thoughts trail around her. What if she had given up on the book club and library? What if something was wrong with her? What if she needed something? You couldn't shake the thoughts as your brain kept circling around the same questions and when you turn into a now familiar street, you pass her house, internally scolding yourself as your heart probably led you there on purpose. And you know you shouldn't, despite feeling much closer to her than at the start, it felt wrong to simply show up unannounced, maybe she even had company. But you couldn't just walk past the house and so you carefully approach her front door, making sure you got the right house but by the name on the doorbell printed in purple it quickly confirms that it was in fact her house.

Carefully you knock on the door, waiting for a few moments but not hearing an answer and so you turn on your heel, figuring she must simply be busy or still at work. However just before you are out of reach, you hear the front door open and turn around quickly only to see her standing there, your eyebrows knitting in concern as you see her state. Her nose was red, eyes tired and even a little watery and for a moment you fear she had been crying before her voice breaks through the quiet air ,,Y/N?'' she asks, the sound of her voice broken and you could tell then that she had fallen ill. ,,I'm so sorry Wilhemina for just showing up like this but-'' you stop yourself then, trying to put your words in order and not embarrass yourself. ,,I was worried not seeing you yesterday or today and I just felt the urge to check on you'' you explain, checking her features but they remain neutral. ,,I'm sorry if I'm overstepping'' you quickly apologise before she gives you a comforting smile.

,,You're fine Y/N, I'm sorry I-'' she begins to speak but another wave of nausea and the lingering fever knocks the words from her lungs. ,,Are you okay?'' you ask, concerned etched on your features ,,You don't look so well'' you remark, taking a step closer as her expression grows a little paler. She simply opens the door, offering you to follow her before she is quick to walk back over to her sofa, several empty tissue packets on the floor, before she slumps back into the sofa, the exhaustion creeping up on her. ,,I seem to have fallen ill'' she remarks, scrunching up at the statement, as she hated admitting weakness, despite you not seeing it as weakness at all. As you glance around her house, you can't help but notice how both comfortable, clean and beautiful it was, several houseplants, a luxurious spacious kitchen, a lot of purple and lilac details and artwork and you are sure to have seen some cat toys lying around as you stepped inside.

,,May I?'' you ask carefully as you step closer and she simply nods and watches as the back of your hand reaches for her forehead, gasping as you notice the lingering fever. ,,Do you have a thermometer somewhere?'' you ask carefully and she nods, before pointing towards a cupboard. Without any words, you make your way over, seeing the many pain medications and ignoring that before retrieving the thermometer. It feels like an eternity as you gently usher her to open her mouth and she reluctantly complies, feeling too exhausted to argue as she usually wouldn't allow anyone to do any of this ever. Once the beeping rings through the room, it confirms your suspicions and you glance at her as her eyes softly close, sleep washing over her. ,,I'll be right back'' you whisper softly, before walking back into her hallway, reaching for the set of spare keys dangling on a nearby wall. You aren't sure if you are overstepping still but you didn't care, her health and wellbeing more important to you than any of that right now.

And it doesn't take long before you usher home for a moment, getting some supplies before stopping at a nearby pharmacy and your usual take out place. You return a little while later, placing the keys back where you had gotten them before placing the medication gently on the table where she was still sleeping. In a swift motion and without going through her stuff, you tidy up a little, getting rid of the tissues everywhere, doing some dishes that she must have not had the strength to clean, before you watch a little black cat approach, rubbing it self near the wall leading into the kitchen. ,,Hi there'' you smile as you bend down carefully and hold out your hand. He melts right into your touch as you stroke him carefully, noticing his bowls and searching for some food and water and filling it, before emptying the litter box nearby.

When Wilhemina awakens next, she watches you from afar, praising the thing closest to her heart for finishing his food, even playing a little and her heart melts at the picture. ,,Y/N'' she calls out, glancing around the room and you are quick to walk over to her as she attempts sitting up. ,,Hi there'' you greet her warmly before passing her a glass with water and some medication. ,,Here'' you offer and her brown glassy eyes look up to meet your own. She takes it before glancing around her living room and kitchen, noticing how it was spotless, her heart melting at the gesture, despite feeling like it's a little too much considering she didn't know how to accept the help, let alone ever thank you for it. And you can see it in her brown eyes, knowing her long enough now to know she felt uncomfortable ,,I picked up some soup for you, you can take these every 4 hours'' you announce gently before reaching for your bag. You smile warmly at her and she gives you a thankful smile before you walk out of the room, offering that she could call if she needed anything at all. ,,Bye little fellow'' you give her cat one last stroke before walking out her door, content with at least having checked in and looked after her.

The next few days you continue going on about your days, both working at the library and on your days off working on some assignments and going to your lectures. It had worried you that Wilhemina hadn't reached out to you yet, hoping she was feeling better and at the same time worried you may have overstepped or upset her in some way. You find yourself, both daydreaming and lost in thoughts as you stock up some shelves, thinking about a book in particular that you held and how she would probably love it. A sound startles you and as you turn around you knew your mind wasn't playing tricks on you as you were sure you heard the echoing of her cane. ,,Wilhemina'' you remark, your features instantly filled with joy as you see her looking much better than a few days ago. ,,Are you feeling better?'' you ask as her eyes meet your own. ,,I do, thank you'' she smiles warmly at you before noticing something lingering behind her brown eyes, her lips twitching a little, knowing it meant there was something on her mind.

,,Is everything okay?'' you ask after a moment of silence, noticing her hesitation and the grip around her cane tightening. ,,Why did you-'' she stops herself then, her eyes closing unsure how to finish her question. ,,I'm sorry if I overstepped, I just wanted to make sure you are alright'' you apologise again. There is a moment of silence before she speaks again ,,But why did you?'' and it breaks your heart a little, knowing just what she was thinking, how no one ever probably has looked after her and all you want to do is give her the biggest hug. ,,Because I care about you Wilhemina'' you admit, the admission coming out quiet, almost whispered as you meet her eyes. And then you see the surprise in her eyes, as if your actions didn't make it obvious, as if she was oblivious to your feelings and the way you look at her.

Wilhemina's eyes widen in surprise at your words, as if she hadn't expected such a heartfelt confession. For a moment, the air around you feels heavy with tension as she processes your admission.

,,You care about me?'' she repeats, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes searching yours for any hint of insincerity. You nod at her statement, feeling your heart pounding in your chest ,,Yes I do, I- I've grown to care about you a lot'' you admit, despite the voice in the back of your head telling you to stop.

A mix of emotions flicker across her face – surprise, disbelief, and perhaps a hint of vulnerability. You can see her struggling to find the right words, her fingers tightening around her cane again. ,,I don't know what to say'' she finally admits, causing for a lump to form in your throat. ,,It's okay'' you reassure, avoiding her gaze as you glance at the front and noticing a little line forming by where you are meant to be sitting. She glances behind her as you apologetically nod at her and quick to resume your work. Her eyes don't leave yours for a second, feeling awful for the way the conversation went and not being able to tell you that she was truly grateful for what you had done for her. But she couldn't stay as it wasn't her usual afternoon and she had to catch up on some work, and so with a heavy heart she leaves, glancing at you one more time while you check out some customers, pretending not to see her as she glances at you one more time, sure you would cry if you took another look at her in this moment.

On her way out, her words and your reaction replay in her mind over and over again, contemplating whether to turn on her heels, apologise, anything to make this better. But she couldn't as she had to go back to work, despite the thoughts lingering on her mind until the next day. Wilhemina wasn't sure what to think of your statement, she truly didn't mind you coming to her house, appreciating the gesture and the cleaning up you did as well as looking after her cat as the sickness caused her to lose the ability to do so. But she wonders what this was, were you simply friends? Wilhemina never really having friends in her adult life before as she prefered to spend her time with herself and her cat. Or was it more? the woman definitely wasn't oblivious and not a stranger to love and romance and she knew what your admission meant, in her heart anyway, despite her head and rational side reminding her you couldn't have possibly meant it that way but she felt horrible, wanting to talk this out with you as the thought of losing to have you around truly killed her and caused for anxiety to fill her usual calm and composed mind.

As she makes her way to the library, her eyes search around the quiet space, members of the book club already meeting and finding your coworker Janice rather than your usual presence. Despite a part of her not really wanting to do this, she approaches the older woman, remembering her well from some book club meetings and around the library. ,,Hi there'' Janice greets her, remembering the redhead quite well and you sometimes mentioning the woman to her. ,,Hello'' Wilhemina greets her, her features a little tense before she speaks quietly, wanting to make sure the other people don't hear ,,Is Y/N not working today?'' she asks causing the older woman to shake her head no. ,,Poor darling called in sick today'' she admits, before Wilhemina's features tense a little further. ,,I see, thank you'' she remarks before turning on her heels and getting ready to leave. ,,Aren't you staying?'' Janice asks a little confused, knowing the redhead to be a regular member of the meetings by now. ,,No- I uh.. have some other commitment'' she remarks before leaving, her cane echoing through the silent library.

Now you weren't truly sick, just not feeling like going to work today, considering the countless assignments piling up on you and feeling the strange urge to avoid Wilhemina. After yesterday, your heart had broken a little, feeling shame even at hearing her words, unaware that she simply struggled with these things. Your brain had somehow tricked you to believe that she didn't care for you in the way that you cared for her and that you had made an utter fool of yourself and so you opted for staying home, not being in the mood to go through the torture of a whole book club meeting on top of it all. Sitting on your sofa, cross legged, laptop tugged into your lap, you type away, working on an essay that was due next. You are startled when you hear the sound of a knock coming from your apartment door, assuming it's a neighbour, before opening the door.

As your eyes lay on Wilhemina you gulp, expecting a few things but not her showing up and confused as to how she would have gotten upstairs, unaware that a neighbour was just leaving and she slipped inside. ,,Wilhemina?'' you ask a little confused, your cheeks coated in red considering the state you are in, messy bun, sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. It takes her a moment to recognise you as she really hadn't seen you like this before, usually always dressed well and hair styled perfectly. ,,I heard you aren't feeling well'' she remarks, before holding out a lilac shopping bag and passing it to you. ,,Thank you'' you smile warmly at her, the bag exposing some type of food in a container and a book and your heart melts at the gesture, unable to form any words.

,,Would you like to come inside?'' you offer before she declines politely ,,I'll leave you rest but let me know if you need anything?'' she asks before you nod eagerly, thanking her one more time before you watch her walk away. As you close the door, you lean against it for a moment, letting out a breath that you held in for a while, feeling relief that she didn't actually come inside as your place was a right mess. Carefully, you walk over to your sofa, putting the container and book on your sofa table, before taking a look, exposing the same soup that you had gotten for her before, feeling your heart ache and beat faster at the sweet gesture. Retreating some headphones, you listen to some music, while finishing your essay, finishing the soup in the meantime. After several hours, you take a look at the book and you had never heard of it, remembering the author from your work at the library but never reading his works before.

As you open the book, you check the first page for a library stamp but there is none, meaning she must have either purchased it or it belonged to her. ,,For Y/N- Love, Wilhemina'' it reads and your heart melts again at the sweet gesture. For the remainder of the night you get lost in the book, a book about two characters, one more mysterious as the other one, captivated by the similarities and the poetry. As you read countless pages, the darkness of the night already consuming the world around you, your heart begins beating a little faster as you begin understanding the true meaning of the story, and how the main character had been afraid to commit, afraid to allow the other ones feelings despite feeling the same way and it startled you. Quite literally shaking you awake as your eyes fly over the written words, wondering whether this was her way of telling you, despite the rational side of your brain still trying to convince you that this had been some kind of accident.

For the remainder of the night, you lay awake after finishing the book, some words lingering and repeating on your mind, your thoughts trailing back and forth to Wilhemina, wanting nothing more than to talk to her, thank her for the book and ask her about it's true meaning but you couldn't as it was the middle of the night. And so you try to find some sleep, despite it being broken, before the morning sun washes over your apartment, causing you to wake, your thoughts instantly lingering around the redhead. That morning, you are very early at the library, opening up hours before it would even open, unable to do anything else at home as your thoughts kept circling and you wanted to desperately distract yourself.

A few hours pass, where you lose yourself in your passion, unboxing a few new shipments with books and neatly placing them in the shelves, also working on a new display shelves with some monthly book recommendations. You are startled when you hear one of the doors opening before politely shouting ,,Sorry still closed, we open in about thirty minutes'' while bending down. However as you hear the all too familiar cane taps and heels echoing, you are quickly on your feet, glancing around the corner and noticing Wilhemina's presence, her features soft as she makes her way over. ,,Closed? even for me?'' she chuckles a little, causing you to blush. ,,Definitely not'' you remark before walking over, now a few steps apart from the redhead.

,,Would you like some coffee or tea?'' you ask politely before she finds herself smiling again ,,Coffee please'' she requests and you nod, offering her to sit before you retreat to the back room and making some coffee for the two of you. A few moments pass before you make your way over, by now knowing how she takes her coffee and passing her the warm mug. ,,I take it you are feeling better?'' she questions and you nod before speaking ,,Thank you so much for the soup and- the book'' the last two words more quiet as they fall from your lips. As the steam from the coffee forms little patterns in the air, she studies your features before carefully speaking ,,Did you get a chance to-'' but you are quick to cut her off ,,I read it'' you reassure before her eyes meet yours ,,The whole thing?'' she questions, a little taken back as you nod.

Silence fills the quiet library, not necessarily an unpleasant one, the two of you simply lost in thoughts, eyes still locked onto each other. ,,What made you choose that one?'' you ask curiously, your hand reaching around the mug soaking in the warmth it provides. ,,I like the message'' she admits, still keeping your gaze. ,,Want to tell me about your interpretation?'' you ask, almost causing her to smirk a little as the two of you often studied books and their true meanings together. ,,What was yours?'' she asks, wanting to make sure you got the silent message and her confession. ,,I think it's about two characters that fall in love, a silent love though, one where one is utterly in love with the other but the other one struggles to admit their feelings, preferring a love in silence while the other one wants to shout it from the rooftops'' you explain, losing yourself in the meanings of the words a little.

Her eyes close then, understanding and relieved that you got the message and as your eyes meet again you speak again, your words hushed and quiet ,,Is that why you gave it to me?'' you question ,,Because you care about me too?''. As the words flow from your mouth, your hands begin shaking, unsure where this sudden boost of confidence came from but your brain ultimately telling you that this wasn't a coincidence anymore. ,,I do Y/N'' she finally admits, her eyes sparkling a little as you notice her posture much less tense than before, her features almost seeming relieved at the admission of her feelings. ,,I never thought you would like me too'' you admit, almost in that same self loathing way she had once spoken about herself. ,,Hey'' she tries softly, before reaching for your hand and holding it in place. ,,Of course I do'' she reassures, tilting her head to the side a little.

Your silence and peace is interrupted when a few people enter the library, causing you both to pull away, before you stand up, walking over to some people standing by your desk wanting to return some books. Wilhemina watches in quiet awe and adoration at your movements, your politeness and she feels her heart fluttering in her chest. As people leave again, slowly more people walking inside, she walks back over to you, hovering beside you before you glance up at her ,,What's going to happen now then?'' you ask curiously, your cheeks coated in a slight red shade. ,,How about we start with dinner tonight, little one?'' she offers, causing you to blush at her statement even more. ,,I would love that'' you admit before your attention is needed working again. And for the remainder of the day, Wilhemina chooses to stay in your company, stealing glances at you as you go about your tasks with practiced ease. The excitement for the evening ahead lingering on your features whenever you lay eyes upon each other.

[sahsalart]

Star Wars: Pa’loa Skywalker

It has just occurred to me that I never posted any of the character reference sheets for any of my Star Wars OCs! I intend to do a complete rewrite of the sequel trilogy in novels/comics. Since Disney proves time and time again how much unoriginal and stupid bullshit they create for the franchise. With that said, I am taking inspiration and pulling from Legends and The Expanded Universe lore as well mixing in my own original work to, hopefully, do justice to the original story that George Lucas created. I’m still working on the storyline for each novels which will be followed accordingly as Episode 7, Episode 8, and Episode 9 as well as scouting to hire an actual author to write the novels! I wish to pour my blood, sweat, and tears into recreating the sequels for a franchise that I hold dear to my heart so I unfortunately will not write the entire novel series myself. I consider myself more of an artist than an author so help will be needed :)

We’ll start off with the main star of the show, Pa’loa Skywalker. She is the only child of Jedi Master and Galactic Hero, Luke Skywalker, and fellow Jedi Master, Saasa Raassiks. A half-Human, half-Togruta hybrid. Born three years after the Battle of Endor in 7 ABY on her mother’s home planet of Zullu, Pa’loa’s birth was one of celebration and joy as it meant a new start to not only the newly freed Galaxy, but a new hope for the rebirth of the Jedi. In the early stages of her life, Pa’loa’s parents discovered that their daughter had natural Force-sensitive abilities that matched the likes of her familial heritage thus she was trained from then on in order to control those gifts. Pa’loa was educated by her father, Luke, on her paternal grandfather, Anakin Skywalker, legacy as a renowned Jedi Knight in the Old Republic and his eventual fall to the Dark Side as the heinous Darth Vader in order to not repeat history. When Pa’loa hit an older age to begin formal Jedi training, Luke choose to take on his own daughter as his Padawan Apprentice with her Mother occasionally stepping in as well. Pa’loa is the firstborn and eldest of the Skywalker grandchildren, having 3 younger cousins by her Aunt Leia and Uncle Han.

Due to her mixed-species ancestry, Pa’loa does not resemble your “typical looking” Human or Togruta. The most notable traits are her soft-pink colored skin, lighter pink facial markings, and Montrals and Lekku that she inherited from her Togruta mother. Dissimilar to Togrutas, she has visible human-like ears that function as her main source of hearing, and only having body hair in the form of eyebrows and eyelashes. Her Montrals and Lekku function a little differently from full Togrutas, such as they remain the same shape and markings from birth and do not grow as the individual ages, the same goes for her facial markings. Likewise, she can use her Montrals for passive echolocation to detect objects but in order to do so her ears must be covered or else it cannot function. She is able to subtly move her Montrals to convey messages and express emotions.

[lemoncrushh]

The Entertainer II - Track 09 - Something in the Stars

Summary: What if it wasn’t the end? What if Sky did actually see Harry at the Forum in the early 80s, and he saw her too? What if fate took hold of them both, and they realized their journey was not over? Set in 1981, Harry and Sky’s story continues with more music, more romance, and a few more twists and turns.

STORY PAGE

Track 09 Word Count: 4.2k+

Read The Entertainer

“What are you wearing tomorrow?” Donna asked me Friday afternoon.

I was seated on the floor next to a filing cabinet, trying to get the last of my filing done before I left for the day.

“It’s…a red dress,” I answered vaguely.

“Ooh, red’s a sensual color!”

“It’s also the color of Christmas,” I scoffed over my shoulder.

“Even so,” Donna shrugged. “I bet Harry will like it. I was afraid to go with red myself. Joel might get the wrong idea.”

“I thought you liked Joel,” I remarked, sliding a client’s file into a tight spot.

“I don’t know…” Donna sighed. “I like him enough to go to a party with him. But I’m still not sure if I like him enough to go all the way.”

“Oh!” I exclaimed, probably a bit too loudly. Then I cleared my throat. “So you haven’t…um…”

“Nope,” she replied. “Not that he hasn’t made a move or anything…I just…I don’t know.”

“Hey, it’s okay to wait as long as you need,” I assured her. “Also, he may just not be worthy. It’s okay to say that, you know?”

“It is?”

Closing the filing cabinet with my hip, I returned to my chair and faced her.

“Of course. This is the eighties. Women should be able to speak their mind when it comes to sex. And we don’t need to put out just because we think the man wants it. Give your body when you’re good and ready, and to someone who deserves it.”

Donna rested her chin in her hand as she clicked a pen in the other.

“I take it Harry was worthy,” she said.

I felt my face flush before I even sputtered a word.

“Wh-what? Am I that transparent?”

Donna grinned at me. “I just know how you’ve been acting since you told me about him. He must be something special.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Yeah he’s…”

I let my mind wander to him for a second, trying to think of the words to say without giving too many details.

“Harry was always worthy,” I finally answered. “That’s really the only way I can describe it.”

“Hey babe, I’m sorry to call so late. Did I wake you?”

“Yeah,” I yawned. “But it’s okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Harry,” I insisted as I sat up in bed. “I told you it doesn’t matter what time you call.”

“Hmm, I have a feeling you could change your mind eventually.”

“Eventually? Does that mean you’re gonna continue to do this?”

“I hope not,” said Harry. “But this week hasn’t shown much promise.”

Since Tuesday night when Harry had called me from the party and then stayed the night, we hadn’t had much chance at conversation. Wednesday I hadn’t heard from him at all after he’d left that morning, and Thursday night he’d called me just after I’d gone to bed, but I hadn’t been asleep yet. I’d assured him then that I looked forward to our nightly talks, no matter how late or how short. I’d stayed up late tonight in case he called around the same time, but by midnight, I couldn’t keep my eyes open.

“What time is it?” I asked, my eyes still adjusting.

“Just after one.”

“Oh.”

“Are you angry?”

“No. Just tired.”

“I’m sorry, babe. Go back to sleep,” he sounded defeated.

“No. No, it’s fine. I wanna talk. I missed your voice,” I added at the end to smooth things over.

“I miss all of you,” Harry declared.

I had to admit, that smoothed it over for me. I felt bad for being a little curt with him. I wasn’t adjusting to this inconvenience very well, and I was mad at myself for it. I had to laugh.

“Why’s that funny?” Harry asked, clearly not aware of my inner thoughts.

“It’s not,” I said. “It’s absolutely adorable. But listen to how ridiculous we sound. We’re acting like we haven’t seen each other in weeks.”

“Feels like it,” Harry chuckled. “My days are running together.”

“How was it today?” I inquired.

“Good, actually. Got a lot done. One song’s nearly complete.”

“That’s great! I can’t wait to hear it.”

“Yeah, I think you’ll like it. How was yours?”

“Nothing you’d wanna hear about,” I quipped. “So are you home now?”

“Yeah, in bed. Wishing you were here.”

“Harry…”

“What? I told you I want you all the time. If I’m not working on the record, I’m thinking about you. If I am working on the record, I’m thinking about you.”

“Get out!”

Harry chuckled again, the vibrations tickling my ear and down to my toes.

“I’d ask you to come over, or I’d come to yours if I didn’t have to be at the studio early,” he added.

“Mmm, that would be nice,” I commented. “But it’s okay. I’ll get to sleep in a little.”

“Rub it in,” Harry scoffed.

“Tomorrow we can be together all night,” I reminded him.

“I can’t wait to see you, angel.”

When we ended the call, I felt much better. Harry was coming to pick me up at six. I was just as excited to see him dressed up as I was for him to see me. I just knew it was going to be a magical night.

“Playin’ with the Queen of Hearts Knowin’ it ain’t really smart The Joker ain’t the only fool Who’ll do anything for you…”

“Alright, doll,” said Kimberly, my hairdresser. “Let’s have you sit under the dryer for twenty minutes.”

As I followed her to the row of hairdryers, I hummed along to Juice Newton.

“There ya go, doll,” Kimberly called as I began to feel the heat on my scalp. “I’ll be back to check on you.”

Sitting back in the vinyl chair, I spotted a magazine on the table beside me and began to flip through it. There was a lot of nonsense I couldn’t care less about. But when I turned a page after reading a blurb on Jane Fonda, a photo of a familiar face caught my eye.

There on page twenty-six was a photo of Harry with a woman I didn’t recognize. My heart began to beat faster in my chest, and a lump caught in my throat.

“Harry Styles, 27, pictured here in June with model Mitzi Lambert at the film premiere of For Your Eyes Only,” it read, “is rumored to be working on an upcoming solo project as well as being extremely available. Though sources say he’s been seen out in L.A. recently with someone, we have yet to confirm if this is true.”

I flipped back to the cover of the tabloid to confirm the date. It had just been released. So that “someone” it referenced could have been me.

Turning back to the picture, I looked at Mitzi. She was thin, tall and glamorous. Everything I was not. She must have been that old girlfriend who knew nothing about him, although the photo suggested they were having the time of their lives.

Closing the magazine, I decided there was no need to feel jealous. He was mine now. I smiled at the thought.

Kimberly finished my hair, and I felt like a million bucks. As I stepped into my apartment, I was on cloud nine. I flipped on the stereo and sang along while I finished getting ready. Slipping my red halter dress over my head, I got tingles all over as I imagined Harry’s gaze and his hands on me later.

“Tonight’s the night we’ll make history Honey, you and I…”

I stepped into my gold shoes that matched my gold clutch handbag and stood in front of the mirror. I watched my eyes dance before I even smiled - a crystal blue color that I’d rarely seen. My makeup, applied just a bit heavier than I usually did, appeared sexy and sultry. My lipstick, the same Christmas red as my dress, made my lips look like cherries. For the final touch, I placed a gold barrette with holly on one side of my head. Then I stepped back again and giggled in the mirror.

“Our memories of yesterday will last a lifetime We’ll take the best, forget the rest And someday we’ll find… These are the best of times…”

I was so excited, I couldn’t sit still. I tried watching TV while I waited for Harry to arrive, but my mind just wanted to wander. I grabbed my guitar, but my fingers kept fumbling, as though they were frozen with ice. I paced around the apartment until it was finally six o’clock, my stomach doing somersaults. The only thing left to do was sit at the table and stare at the door.

I waited.

And waited.

By six-thirty I felt nauseous, so I dialed Harry’s number, but I got his machine. I felt partial relief, believing he was on his way. Perhaps he was caught in traffic.

Six-forty-five rolled around and I thought I might pass out. Frantic, I considered calling Halo, but I didn’t want to tie up the line.

He promised, I thought.

My mind started whirling around all of the possible scenarios, the bad and the worse. I sat still at my dining table for another ten minutes. I was just about to give up and head to the bedroom to take off my dress when the phone rang.

“Hello?” I barely made a sound, let alone accentuated the two syllables.

“Baby! Baby, I’m so sorry!” he said sincerely. “I know I was supposed to be there an hour ago.”

“What happened?” I asked, my hands shaking.

“I got caught up in a session. It ran longer than we thought it would.”

“Oh.”

“Please forgive me.”

“Okay,” I mumbled.

“Listen, I haven’t left the studio yet. And I still have to stop at Irving’s.”

“What?” I was teetering on the edge of livid.

“Yeah, he has my suit,” Harry chuckled nervously.

“Why does he have your suit?” My words sputtered out like bullets.

“Long story, babe. But he was getting things ready for me.”

“Probably should have given you a watch,” I spat.

Harry sighed. “I know. You’re mad, but I deserve it. I’m really sorry.”

“Yeah. So when will you be here?”

“Actually, babe, why don’t I meet you there? I can send a car for you. You’re already late.”

“I have my own car if I’m not going with you,” I commented.

“It’s the least I can do, baby. Please don’t be so upset with me.”

I had so many things I wanted to say - to yell at him. But I figured on the phone, when I was already hurt and late, was not the time to convey them.

“I’ll send a car to come get you, okay? Right now.”

“Okay,” I said.

“I’ll meet you at the hotel.”

“Fine.”

“Sky…”

“Hmm?” I sounded, not willing to say much else.

“It can still be a wonderful night. I promise.”

Inhaling a jagged breath, I let it out. He was right. We still had the rest of the night together.

“Okay. See you there.”

“There’s a party going on right here…”

The car that Harry had sent for me had dropped me off almost thirty minutes ago. Donna and Joel had pulled me out of my seat and dragged me to the dance floor. I was not in the party spirit. I’d stopped watching the door, but I wasn’t in the mood for dancing. I just wanted to go home.

“Smile, Mary!” exclaimed Donna. “He said he’d be here, right?”

I nodded, managing a tiny smirk. I hadn’t wanted to tell my friend the whole story, so I’d just told her Harry was running late and would be there soon. I figured it was best to at least act like I was having a good time, so when the Kool and the Gang track prompted everyone to “woo hoo”, I lifted my arms in the air. By the end of the song, I felt a tiny bit better.

“I wonder what’s going on,” I heard Donna say when the next song started.

“Where?” I asked.

“Over by the door. There’s a bunch of people crowded around.”

Almost like Moses parting the red sea, the group of people near the door dispersed, revealing the cause for commotion. I stood frozen on the dance floor, my knees locked.

He looked breathtaking.

I watched him for a minute or two, waving and shaking hands with strangers - my coworkers. He was dressed all in black except for the single red carnation pinned to his lapel.

“Holy shit, isn’t that the singer from Wildfire?” I heard Joel ask.

“Really?” squealed Donna. “What’s he doing here? Is he staying in this hotel?”

“Didn’t that band break up?” Joel interjected.

“Mary’s the music fan,” said Donna. “She probably knows. Mary?”

I heard my coworker’s inquiry, but she might as well have been in another room. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. And when he weaved through a few more people and stepped closer to the dance floor, his eyes finally found mine. Stopping three feet in front of me, he clapped his hand over his chest.

“Be still my heart,” he murmured, his lips mouthing the words more than actually voicing them.

My own lips slowly spread into a smile as he took another step and grabbed my hands.

“My God, baby…” he shook his head. “You look absolutely stunning.”

“Do I?” I tilted my head.

Harry chuckled. “Yeah, you do.”

Slipping his arms around me, he pulled me to him.

“Am I allowed to kiss you?” he inquired in a whisper.

“Why wouldn’t you?”

Harry shrugged. “Seeing as this is a business affair. I wouldn’t wanna be improper.”

I grinned at him and shook my head. “Stop saying words that show off your accent and kiss me.”

I hadn’t been aware of anyone else around us until our lips met and I heard a howl. Harry lifted his head, his expression halfway between embarrassed and baffled. My face, I was sure, matched my dress.

“Sorry,” Harry smirked, not missing a beat. “I swear I asked her first.”

The crowd erupted into both laughter and claps. I rested my forehead against his shoulder until I heard the deejay announce the next song was for “lovers only.”

“Perfect timing,” Harry whispered in my ear.

I hardly had a second to question him with my eyes when the familiar words started.

“My love, there’s only you in my life…”

“Oh God, this song…” I groaned.

“You don’t like it?” asked Harry as he took my hand and led me into a dance.

“No, I do…” I nodded. “It just…makes me feel a lot of things.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Like…”

“And your eyes, your eyes, your eyes They tell me how much you care…”

Harry mouthed the words as he stared into my eyes, then lifted his hand to cup my cheek.

“Yeah, like that,” I confessed, already feeling my eyes getting wet. “It just gets to me.”

“Music’s supposed to do that. Isn’t that one of the first things we ever talked about?”

I nodded, unable to say anything else. I could feel myself swimming in his eyes, and I knew that if I dared to move, I could drown.

“‘Cause you, you mean the world to me…”

Harry continued to serenade me as we swayed on the dance floor. My eyes still locked on him, I felt myself falling even more.

“Jesus, baby,” he sighed. “You’re so fucking pretty.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Your eyes are like diamonds,” he added, sliding his fingers down my cheek.

I grinned. “You’re really making up for being late, aren’t you?”

“What?” Harry furrowed his brows. “No. I’m not trying to make up for anything. I’m being honest.”

“Okay. You’re right. That was unfair of me to say.”

“You get very suspicious when I’m trying to be romantic,” Harry accused. “Why is that?”

“I’m not, Harry,” I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I ruined the moment. Let’s forget it.”

Harry continued to glare at me until I slid my hands up his chest and wrapped my arms around his neck. His face softened, and he pulled me tighter. I laid my head on his shoulder while he returned to singing along with Lionel and Diana. I sang along too towards the end.

“‘Cause no one can deny This love I have inside And I’ll give it all to you”

I lifted my head then to look at him again, his green eyes silently confessing to mine as his lips mouthed the words.

“My love, my love, my love My endless love…”

I thought he might kiss me again, but the deejay came back on the microphone, interrupting the moment.

“Alright! Love is in the air this holiday season! A big thanks to Harry for that special request. Now, let’s get things moving with this request from Sasha. Shake your groove thang, Sasha!”

The dance floor filled with more people as I stood and stared at Harry. Then with a turn, I weaved through people to get to the buffet.

“Baby?” Harry called after me. When he caught up to me, he grabbed my arm. “Sky. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” I said. “Just needed some air. It got crowded fast.”

“Sky…”

“Have you eaten?” I asked, turning back to the buffet and grabbing a plate. “I nibbled a little earlier, but now I’m starved.”

“Sky!” Harry exclaimed. “Stop it. Why do you keep doing this?”

“Doing what?”

“Avoiding the obvious.”

“There she is!” I heard to my left. “Why didn’t you tell me your Harry was a rockstar?”

I grinned at Donna shyly, setting down my empty plate.

“Sorry," I said. “I guess I didn’t wanna make it a big deal.”

Donna scoffed. “Kinda late for that. He walked in and swept you off your feet. I thought I was watching some romance movie.”

I giggled and slid my hand hesitantly around Harry’s arm, hoping he wasn’t too upset with me. But when I looked up at him, he beamed down at me.

“Harry, this is my friend, Donna. Donna, this is…my boyfriend, Harry.”

I watched Donna exchange nervous greetings with Harry, which only made me smile wider. Once again, Harry was ever the gentleman, making my friend feel special. He asked her about her job and how we became friends. It was a little awkward, but pleasant just the same.

“Well, I won’t bother you anymore, but feel free to join us at our table once you get your food.”

“Where’s Joel?” I asked, noticing he was nowhere near.

“Dancing with Sasha,” Donna pointed to the dance floor. “I wanted to sit this one out. In fact, I may sit out the rest of the evening.”

“Oh,” I chuckled.

“Lovely to meet you, Donna,” said Harry.

“You too, Harry,” she smiled. Then she pointed at me. “You I will have words with later.”

“Oops,” I laughed as she walked away.

I felt Harry’s hand on my back then. I looked at him and noticed he was inspecting the food.

“I am pretty hungry, actually,” he commented, rubbing his belly. “Haven’t eaten all day.”

“Harry Styles,” I shook my head, handing him a plate. “You can’t be an entertainer if you don’t keep your strength.”

“Yes, love.”

“Ooh, they have shrimp!” I announced, helping my plate to some.

I watched Harry out of the corner of my eye as he scooped some vegetables onto his own plate.

“You know, you look incredibly sexy,” I blurted. “Sorry I didn’t mention it before.”

Harry smirked. “Not as sexy as you. Can’t wait to get you out of that dress later.”

With a look, I grabbed the big spoon and scooped more vegetables onto his plate.

“Strength, Harry, strength!”

Harry cackled like a kid, making me smile so big my cheeks hurt.

“You two seem meant for each other,” said a woman who had just walked up to the buffet.

“You think so?” Harry asked her.

“Oh, yes. I was watching you while you were dancing. You looked like the perfect couple. And here you are laughing with each other…that’s so important in a relationship, you know.”

I beamed at Harry. “Yeah, we laugh a lot.”

“That’s wonderful. I hope you don’t mind my asking, how did you meet?”

Harry and I looked at each other, then back at the woman.

“Um…we actually met years ago,” Harry replied.

“Yeah, then he went away…” I added.

“Oh! A reunion story!” exclaimed the woman. “How wonderful.”

“Yeah,” Harry grinned.

“Well, that’s when you know it’s true love, don’t you? Something in the stars,” said the woman. “It was meant to be, for sure.”

Harry and I stole another glance at each other, and Harry winked at me.

“Well, I won’t keep you,” added the woman, giving Harry a pat on the arm. “I’m Delores Blake by the way. Charlie’s wife.”

“Nice to meet you,” Harry and I said in unison.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

When Delores left, her plate barely half full, I gasped.

“What?” asked Harry.

“That was my boss’s wife,” I cringed. “I didn’t even know.”

“Have you met her before?”

“Maybe?” I shrugged. “I have no idea. I was pretty drunk at the last party.”

Harry chuckled. “Don’t worry, love. She definitely thinks highly of you now.”

“Thanks to you, Mr. Romantic.”

I felt Harry’s eyes on me as I finished filling my plate. Donna was thrilled when we joined her at her table, and I introduced Harry to Joel. He was a nice enough guy, and it seemed that Donna had warmed up to him as well.

We had a lovely evening. Harry and I danced a few more dances, some slow, some fast, even a Christmas song or two. Several more people came up to him as the night grew on and they felt more comfortable - meaning they probably had taken some liquid courage. Harry took it all in stride. I actually enjoyed watching him. He taught me a bit about myself and how I approach and talk to people. He always looked them in the eye, whomever was speaking to him, and listened intently. I wondered if that was something that came natural to him, or if it was taught. He was never cocky or arrogant, like the rockstar stereotype. And some of my coworkers I knew better than others came to me to whisper how nice he was, and that they were happy for me.

By the end of the night, and after a few glasses of wine, I was feeling good. I was happy. I’d pretty much forgotten about Harry being late. We, along with Donna and Joel, were some of the last people remaining.

“Hey you two, we’re gonna head out,” announced Donna.

“Oh, okay,” I said.

“We’ll walk out with you,” offered Harry.

“That’s nice of you,” said Donna. “But you can stay.”

“No, we’re leaving too,” Harry insisted.

“We are?”

Harry slipped his hand around my back, his rings touching my bare skin, and I jumped out of my chair.

In the lobby, I turned to Donna while Joel and Harry were out of earshot.

“Did you change your mind about him?” I asked.

She merely shrugged.

“I don’t judge,” I said.

“I know,” she smiled. Then she leaned closer to me and whispered, “Keep this one though. He is mad about you.”

I looked at her, wanting to ask questions, but I felt Harry’s hand on my back again.

“I can tell!” Donna mouthed before she turned toward Joel who held the door open.

“Have a good night!” she called with a wave. “Nice meeting you, Harry! See you Monday, Mary!”

As she walked outside with Joel, I heard her say, “Harry and Mary. That’s so cute!”

Harry’s chuckle in my ear made me turn and look up at him.

“I sometimes forget that other people call you Mary. It’s so strange to me.”

“It’s my real name,” I scoffed.

“Nope,” he said, taking my face in his hands. “It might be your given name. But your real true name is Sky.”

“‘Like the color of the sky just before the rain,’” I quoted.

“Not tonight though,” Harry shook his head. “Tonight…I swear they look like diamonds.”

I smiled as I took his hands in mine.

“You ready to go?” I asked him.

Harry seemed to ponder my question, his eyes darting around the lobby.

“Mmm…not yet. I have a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” I asked.

Harry nodded. “Come with me.”

With a sly grin, he took my hand and guided me past the large Christmas tree and toward the elevators. I gasped when he pressed the up button.

“You got a room?” I exclaimed. “Here?”

As soon as the lift doors opened, Harry pulled me inside. I felt my stomach flip as we ascended, and not from the elevator. I looked up at Harry as he brushed my hair back from my shoulder, his touch sending a shooting thrill down my skin.

The look in his eyes was the same as the one on the dance floor. His lips twitched and he licked them as though he was about to say something, but he didn’t.

I wasn’t sure which floor the elevator opened on as I hadn’t been paying attention. But with my hand still in Harry’s, I followed him down to the end of the hall where he stopped and pulled a key out of his jacket.

A loud gasp escaped my throat again when Harry opened the door.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” he said.

Songs mentioned:

Juice Newton - Queen of Hearts

Styx - The Best of Times

Kool and the Gang - Celebration

Lionel Richie & Diana Ross - Endless Love

Taglist: @fkinavocado, @daphnesutton, @freedomfireflies

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

[wholesomefluffdaddy]

Wednesday's new court mandated therapist is having her keep a journal of her thoughts and feelings. Wednesday finds this to be a complete waste of time and decides instead to use it to record her observations of her unusual roommate Enid Sinclair. Wednesday POV.

——————————————

Entry 4

Current Moon Phase: Waxing Gibbous 🌔

Enid was particularly boisterous today. I assume the increasing fullness of the moon is to blame. This must have caused her to desire an increased need for physical contact. I am unsure as to why though. Much of the day was spent begrudgingly placating her whims. I only acquiesced because it was less bothersome than her pouting.

Despite the physical contact of holding her hand, at her request, she continually brushed up against me. When I commented on this peculiar behavior the werewolf's face became flushed with color. Her response, in hushed tones, was that she was 'scenting' me. When I asked for clarification as to why and for what purpose she gave some vague incoherent rambling answer about werewolves being territorial, which may confirm one of my earlier hypotheses. I did not comment further on the behavior but it did decrease somewhat. I decided that it would be more productive if I educated myself on such matters independently. However, it was most difficult to find a moment of solace with Enid clinging to me like a particularly stubborn flea.

Increased aggression and resource guarding must also be another side effect of the waxing gibbous moon. Enid kept repeatedly growling at people who tried to approach our table at lunch. However, if this was indeed resource guarding, I find it odd that she let the vampire and siren join us. Perhaps she didn't feel threatened at losing her food because the vampire's diet differs from her own. That could explain her passive acceptance of the mosquito Tanaka. But why Portokalos too? Siren and werewolf diets overlap. So why was she accepted but not the others that passed by our vicinity? It remains unclear.

Several other werewolves, or 'furs' as Enid calls them, were also on edge today. Enid nearly got into a physical altercation with another werewolf that was trying to engage me in conversation. She looked simply stunning as she partially wolfed out and threatened the other werewolf with maiming if he continued conversing with me. There was much snarling and displays of intimidation. Eventually the other werewolf backed down. After that encounter Enid insisted I wear my snood for the rest of the day. I protested at first, explaining that I had no intention of returning to our dorm simply to acquire another piece of clothing. Besides, I have already made my stance known that I shall only wear the garment on special occasions. An unremarkable Thursday hardly qualified its use.

Enid was quick to explain that it would keep other 'furs' from bothering me. I considered her statement before ruefully agreeing that a decrease in social interaction would be rather enjoyable. Before I could rise from the table to retrieve the garment, Enid produced it from the contents of her backpack. My incredulity must have been apparent as Enid voiced an answer before I could ask. She said she brought it 'just in case.' She must have predicted the erratic behavior of her fellow kin. I was touched by such foresight by her on my behalf.

I decided to wear it, as it would have been foolish of me to pass up such an opportunity to be left alone in peace. I was both surprised and not that my snood now smelled strongly of Enid. It was in her bag after all. Admittedly the experience wasn't too unpleasant. Either the snood itself or Enid's strong scent did prevent any further interaction with other werewolves. I was most impressed by its efficacy. Enid seemed rather pleased with this outcome as well. I was given a wide berth by any subsequent werewolves as I walked the academy halls.

Unfortunately I forgot to remove my snood when I arrived at my mandated appointment with my therapist. Her eyes were drawn to it repeatedly before I voiced the reason for its appearance. Strangely enough she raised no comment before proceeding to ask about my journaling. I decided to share the briefest of snippets about my impromptu outing with Enid during the waxing crescent moon. She seemed oddly fixated on the maladies that afflicted me that day. She asked me to guess as to their origin.

I cited my lack of sustenance prior to the outing and the low Autumn temperatures. She asked me to explore the symptoms that couldn't be accounted for by obvious external variables. I posited that I could have contracted a mild virus, not uncommon this time of year. She seemed dissatisfied with my answer. I failed to see its relevance to our already irrelevant sessions. She asked about my relationship with Enid. I stated that we were roommates. She asked if that was all. I added that we are also friends. She repeated the question and I repeated my answer.

The rest of the session was as trivial as to be expected. However, at the end she gave me an additional assignment to my journaling; to document my physiological and emotional responses to interactions with my peers. An unusual request. I'm most certain she'll be dulled to a tortuous degree when I recount my lack of response to every student, teacher, and extraneous other I come in contact with between sessions.

[hive-sight]

Changes 3 and Authorization

Sentients, greetings and gratitudes! This one has news!

Lumina has come to this one and has expressed an interest in pursuing first contact with the Terrans of Sol-3 sometime in the near future. Lumina stresses that, were it not for Raxor showing them Terran media of encounters with extra-planetary entities, that the contact would likely be immediate.

This is a pronounced change in Lumina that this one had not expected! Jumping into the research as they did, this one had expected first contact to be approaching, however, for Lumina to take the concerns of their crewmate into consideration… It is simply unlike any Thalorix behavior this one has seen. It is… refreshing.

On a more personal note, Lumina has started incorporating Terran mannerisms into their speech and body language. They have begun gesticulating with their primary arms, crossing their secondary arms at about the middle of their torso. They have begun referring to themselves as “I” as the Terrans do.

That there is no issue with this must be stressed. It is a logical step to take in the effort of making the eventual meeting with the Terrans go peacefully. Matching actions and speech with a sentient is the typical step taken in order to begin building relations. It just typically takes a more significant amount of time.

Following will be the transcript of the crew meeting in which Lumina approved first contact.

—Transcript Start—

Elysia:       The date is 4682C 4A 6L, time is one quarter Xylopthia rotation. The assigned Thalorix, Lumina has called the crew together to discuss first contact. Absent is the assigned Xyndri, Voxen. Present are, the assigned Ithorin, Elysia, the assigned Valkorin, Raxor, and the assigned Thalorix, Lumina. This one now passes control of the meeting to Thalorix Lumina.

Lumina:     I thank you Ithorin Elysia. As you have, no doubt, noticed, I have delved deep into my own research of the sentients of Sol-3. While you, Elysia, sought to find how they had become what they are, and you, Raxor, sought to identify any threat they may pose, I investigated who they are. What separates them from us, and what separates one of them from any other one.

*Lumina places the hand of one of their primary arms on the juncture between their abdomen and thorax*

Lumina:     Obviously, given their lack of biological castes, finding this degree of difference between individuals was difficult. Outside of varying changes in color, the Terrans do heavily resemble each other.

Raxor:       By the Queen’s left wing is that an understatement! Can’t tell one from the next myself!

Lumina:      Valkorin Raxor, please.

Raxor:       Apologies Thalorix.

Lumina:     My conclusion may seem… controversial. Please hold any questions until my explanation has finished. When I look at humanity as, instead of a species, but as a singular caste, I find the differences in individuals to be nearly identical to the differences between any two members of the same caste of our own species. Elysia, you rather enjoy combing over cycles of data correct?

Elysia:       Correct. This one finds such data analysis to be soothing.

Lumina:     But Ithorin Permisia does not. Also correct?

Elysia:       Permisia does tend to enjoy a more ‘up close’ approach yes. Prefers to be on-site to make new discoveries.

*Lumina dips their antennae*

Lumina:     Terrans are much the same.

—Transcript End—

This one believes that Lumina is trying to convey that the crew should begin looking at Terrans at more of an individual level. But this one is unsure. Please, if any of you Sentients have a perspective, inform this one. This one could not bear to be the reason for the failure of this mission.

In addition, if any among you have questions, this one would be happy to answer.

On this, XD 4682C 4A 7L, TD 17th of June, 2030, Elysia of Xylopthia is looking forward to more glorious interaction, and signing off.

[garden-of-zinnia]

Cato H. ~ The Seam

We got a Cato Hadley imagine, ya'll.

TW: Swearing, canon-typical violence

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

    .Y/N's POV.

    Wow. The Hunger Games. Never thought I'd end up here. But then again, I also never thought I'd befriend a boy who gained muscle from baking and was named after bread.

    Everyone here (The capital people, the president, the game maker, the careers, and our capital escort, Effie) made it seem like it was such an honor to be a part of the games, but honestly, I just want to go home. I have my family, Katniss, Primrose, and Gale, waiting for me at home. Plus, my mom. I don't want to be here for pretty obvious reasons. Yet, here I am, in The Hunger Games, in a training center, shooting arrows at the heart of a bright colored dummy.

-.-.-.-

        I was, standing on a pedestal, heart pounding wildly in my chest, waiting for the signal to run.

    I already knew Peeta would try to grab a bag and weapons, but I really didn't care and bolted straight for the woods. Once I was far enough away, I grabbed a bunch of tree branches and sharpened them into make-shift spears.

     But then I heard it.

    The terrifying Ariana-Grande-Like screams of the I-Can't-Climb-A-Tree people.

    Otherwise known as Marvel, Glimmer, Cato, and Clove. The careers.

    I mean, not gonna lie here, Cato is kind of fine, but that's besides the point. They're trying to kill me. So I did the first thing that any normal human would do when encountering the careers and climbed the nearest tree. I got at least thirty feet up before the careers got to me, and when I looked down, I saw... PEETA?! WHAT THE HELL MAN?! I THOUGHT WE WERE BREAD BUDDIES?! Whatever.

    Before I knew it, Glimmer was trying, and miserably failing, to shoot me with her goddamn arrows, and Cato was climbing after me.

    Obviously, these are the I-Can't-Climb-A-Tree people were talking about, so he obviously fell only about 10 feet up, but I still climbed farther.

     And, obviously, Peeta, being the back-stabbing asshole that he is, told them to wait for me to come down.

    You know what?! FUCK YOU, PEETA. We were supposed to be bREAD BUDDIes!

    Eventually, the careers went to sleep, and I soon followed their actions and layed down, but I couldn't seem to close my eyes for more than ten seconds.

-.-.-.-.

When the sun came up, I noticed three things.

1.) There was a little girl, Rue, from district 11, staring at me from another tree. She pointed at something. A tracker-jacker nest just above the careers for me to cut down. Thanks, Rue. She can replace Peeta, now :).

2.) I had a sponsor gift on the branch above me, which looked like just a small metal tin.

3.) Cato was staring into my soul from the tree next to mine.

    I almost screamed when I saw Cato  but quickly stopped myself. He looked into my eyes and, without hesitation, stuck his hand out to me. He was holding three small knives.

    I stared at him for a second before he spoke.

    "You want 'em or not, Seam?" He said, sticking his hand out farther towards me and motioning up to the tracker-jacker nest.

    I slowly grabbed them, I began to cut away at the top of the hive while Cato and Rue watched from their respective places.

    I got a few stings around my neck, but I eventually cut through the top of the hive, which fell onto the careers and Peeta. They all managed to get away, though.

    All except one, at least.

    Glimmer, the girl from district one, was almost instantly killed by the stings, and she went limp on the ground as a cannon sounded, and the tracker-jackers began to fly away.

    I jumped down the tree and grabbed the nearest rock.

    I began to smash at Glimmer's hand with the smooth stone and crack after crack her fingers snapped. After a few seconds, they were all broken, but the stings must have gotten to me because the last thing I was was the bow in my hand, and Cato shaking me.

    Peeta ran at us and shouted. "Y/N! Y/N, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! LEAVE! Y/N?!"

    Then... I went limp.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

(A/N) Well, that sucked :D! Not proofread, because I hated this one. Also, Y/N, Gale, Katniss, and Primrose aren't related, just really close. But this one was like actually really shitty.

Love ya'll to bits,

♡Graysin♡Zinnia♡

Word Count: 798

[duz-machines-87]

Kid Chompy and an OC Raphmona child (named Yoyo) because I am cringe and they are cute.

Ramblings about cryptozoology/biology/explaining myself if you keep reading.

I've got this headcanon that Chompy's basically Raph's kid, and I can't hold myself back from making fan children for ships.

Or hybrid species..

Or fan children who are hybrid species...

First, I wanna talk about Chompy.

Tokka and Chompy frankly look nothing alike, which makes me think that Compy isn't entirely a Volcanthian fire turtle. Their differences are obvious, but I don't think that they can be summed up as just him being a juvenile while Tokka is an adult. Since a lot of the differences have to do with body plan, such as:

Different numbers of fingers and toes. Chompy has 3, Tokka has 4

Tokka's eyes glow, Chompy's don't

Their is no difference between the coloration of Tokka's shell and body, while there is for Chompy

Tokka seems to be mostly comprised of a rock like substance, while Chompy seems to only have rock like spikes

Chompy has a tail, Tokka does not

Tokka has exposed magma all over her body, Chompy doesn't

In addition to this, Tokka's intelligent enough to deem Raph a good guardian for Chompy, and for some reason there is no pressure to take him back. If Chompy was going to turn into a massive plasma breathing kaiju like his mama, being on Earth would be more detrimental to his health/development than taking him with her. So there must have been a reason Raph was allowed to keep him. Which makes me think that it would be more dangerous for Chompy to have stayed with Tokka, despite the dangers faced by the turtles.

For these reasons, I don't think that Chompy is a Volcanthian fire turtle, not fully. I think it's likely that he's some kind of hybrid creature, not a Volcanthian fire turtle at all and just another thing entrusted to Tokka's care, or Volcanthian fire turtles have a crazy amount of variability and he's just entirely different for no reason.

Though I personally like the first option best.

I know i'm not the only one to come to this conclusion, but I haven't seen anyone else talk about these points

and i also really like thinking about alien biology

So onto the OC kid.

Since Salamandrians are amphibians, they should have a multi stage life cycle where they start as fish-like larvae and then undergo metamorphosis to become their adult forms. Going off of this idea, I gave the kid external gills and fins, as well as a juvenile pattern that he'll grow out of.

This also plays into how I imagine Salamanria's ecosystem to look like to create massive bipedal amphibians. I headcanon that it's swamp-like, with shallow water covering most of the planet, which makes it imperative that baby Salamandrians are able to breath even when submerged in water. I've seen some people also headcanon that the foliage there is blue, and I like that idea since it justifies how many Salamandrians are seen with blue patterning/coloration. Most Salamandrian children would be blueish in color for this reason, even if they eventually grow out of that color. The stripes are also for camouflage, since most swamps have grasses/reeds, this would make it more difficult for babies to be spotted which is a concern since creatures like amphibians have offspring that are more individually capable than human babies.

Human babies are generally rather underdeveloped when compared to other animal infants. This is a whole other thing I could get into but I'll spare you lol. Most other babies are more like toddlers than infants, even as newborns. I applied this logic to Salamandrian babies as well. Since they act more like toddlers they are more likely to wonder off, and end up is the sights of a predator, or a rival group of Salamandrians. Hence the need for camouflage.

Specifically for this fan kid, there are many ways that I could combine Salamandrian and mutant turtle traits, and I've seen a lot in other fan kids. I wanted to reference both of their designs, and other versions of TMNT.

I gave him both a full carapace and plastron, but didn't attach them, which makes him look in line with the 03 turtles. He's got 3 fingers but 4 toes, since Salamandrians have one more toe than finger for some odd reason. He's also got webbing between his two fingers.

Finally here's his name: Yoshi Web Hamato. He also goes by Webber or Yoyo. I've got three reasons for picking this name.

First I saw someone mention once that all the turtles have given a Salamandrian a name except for Leo. So I thought he should contribute to the name, in a meta sense. I don't think he'd like take over naming his brother's kid, but I imagine that he suggested the name "Yoshi" after their father and they went with it.

Second I made a naming scheme for Salamandrians. We never see any related Salamandrians, and only have 4 Salamandrian names to work with but I don't care. I basically headcanon that the first sound of their name which is differentiated by the apostrophe is inherited from one of the parents. So in this case, Web's Salamandrian name is Y'Oshi, getting the "Y" from his mother. Which is why Mona Lisa liked the name Yoshi.

Third the artist naming scheme is very important and I didn't wanna abandon it when naming my fan kid. Though the question of which artist plagued me for a bit. Then my sister suggested I name him after someone from the Harlem Renaissance, which combines NYC and the renaissance, so I named him after W.E.B Du Bois. While Du Bois wasn't a visual artist, he was a writer and scholar, so I thought it fit. I also have a personality for him already lined up, and being named after a scholar fits.

This is all related to a TMNT 12 future AU I have as well.

That is all, thank you for coming to my TED Talk.