#I’d like to get all my stories up eventually but it’s a little weird doing it on an ipad

[leafdrake-haven]

Posted the first chapter of my Breeze fic on ao3! I may eventually post all of my fics there, it would be nice to have them all in one organized location :3 Maybe I’ll actually get inspired to work on this fic….. chapter 2 is technically started and i have ideas for like several more chapters 😅

[pitviperofdoom]

High School Time Travelers, Part 2

It's finally here! Follow up to this story.

***

“So. Spill. What the fuck is going on with you and Angelique?”

Raph fidgeted uncomfortably, and something within Erin roared out in protest at that. They were in her room, surrounded by her clutter and band posters and the stuff he kept at her house to keep his mom from throwing it away. He wasn’t supposed to be uncomfortable here.

Eventually, he took a deep breath. “I time-traveled last night.”

“I’m serious—”

“So am I,” he said wearily. “I woke up in a house I haven’t set foot in for years, across the hall from someone I promised myself I’d never talk to again. It happened, and if you’re stuck on that part then this conversation can’t continue.”

Erin got up and paced her room, kicking aside her backpack, nearly knocking over the guitar stand in the corner. “What the fuck.”

“That’s what I said.”

“What the fuck, Raph.”

“I didn’t mean to!”

The absurdity hit her instantly—he didn’t mean to time travel, as if they were talking about him forgetting his homework or getting in Monica Dillon’s way during passing period. She wanted to laugh.

But then she remembered some of the weird things Angelique had said—about friendships imploding, about college, about shit not mattering in high school, all with the easy certainty of experience.

“Prove it,” she said. “Can you do that thing where you predict what I’m about to say?”

“I’m not stuck in a time loop, dumbass, yesterday I was thirty-three!” Raph snapped. “I had to go through math class trying to pretend I still remembered my teacher’s name!”

“Okay, okay, Jesus.” Erin held up her hands placatingly. “There’s gotta be something.”

Raph sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I dunno. Anything meaningful and unchangeable I can remember won’t happen for a while, so if you’re willing to wait for the Trump presidency or the global pandemic, there’s that.”

“The what.”

“Wait, who’s president right now? It’s still Bush, right?”

Erin pulled a face.

“Next one’s Barack Obama, he’s gonna do two terms,” Raph informed her. “First black president.”

“Oh, huh. Cool,” Erin said faintly.

“Let’s see, what else, um… Balloon Boy? Has Balloon Boy happened yet?”

“No, what the fuck is Balloon Boy?”

Raph brightened. “Yeah, so at some point this family is gonna release like, a homemade weather balloon? Or something? And there’s gonna be this huge panic because they think their son is stuck inside it, but then it turns out he was fine and hiding in the basement the whole time and it was a hoax.”

“Okay, I’ll keep an eye out for that I guess?” Erin sat down again. “You’re seriously not fucking with me right now?”

“I mean, if you want, we could forget this conversation ever happened,” Raph offered. “Continue with our normal lives, while I keep under-reacting to devastating world events.”

“Christ, I don’t know.” Erin pressed her palms into her eyes. After a moment, she lifted her head again. “Wait a minute, we’re getting off track. What does this have to do with Angelique?”

Raph’s silence could not have been louder.

“Raph,” Erin said, a little desperately.

“First you have to promise you won’t be mad,” said Raph.

“Did you sleep with her in the—” Erin paused to do some arithmetic in her head. “—eighteen years between then and now?!”

“She’s my wife,” Raph blurted out.

Moments later, Erin’s mother knocked politely on the bedroom door. “Everything okay in there?” she asked. “That’s an awful lot of screaming for a Tuesday night.”

Erin continued howling into her pillow. “She’s fine, Mrs. Yokota!” Raph called. “We’re looking at—uh—creepypastas!”

“Creepy what?”

“Uh—crap, are they still called that?—like, ghost stories and stuff!”

Placated, she left them to it. Eventually Erin recovered enough to lie back and stare listlessly at the ceiling.

“Dude.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“What the fuck is your life?” Erin demanded. “How did that even happen?”

“We ran into each other at—so my friend Hazel got roped into being in their college roommate’s bridal party and dragged me along for moral support, and Angelique was in the same friend group but with like six degrees of separation from us,” Raph explained. “It took half the reception for her to recognize me because at that point I’d been on T for a few years, but the second she realized we went to the same high school she turned fishbelly-white, pulled me aside, and apologized for how much of a bitch she was back then. It was really awkward.”

Back then, he called it, even though for Erin it was still right now. “And you married her?”

“Like eight years later, yeah.” Raph ran his hand through his hair, not quite hiding the small smile that stole over his face. “She really turned over a new leaf.”

Erin was silent for a while, mulling over this new information, combining it with what she already had from that afternoon.

“Is your name still Raphael?” she asked. “She sounded really surprised about it. And I know you said you were just taking the name on a trial run, but you really seemed to like it. Not that there’s—you know,” she added. “I know that—just because I picked it, I knew you might not… you know. It’s fine, I was just wondering. If I should call you something else.”

“I did—I do like it,” Raph assured her. “But, uh, some stuff happened. My dad found me.”

Erin’s eyebrows shot upward. “Wait, really? What’d he have to say for himself?”

“That Mom ghosted him when she got pregnant because her side guy had more money.”

“Dude, fuck your mom.”

“Don’t fuck my mom, she’ll ghost you for money, weren’t you listening?”

Erin burst out snickering. “Fuck, sorry, this isn’t funny.”

“It will be in eighteen years,” Raph said with a wry smile. “Hindsight. Anyway, he found me in—he’s gonna find me in two years unless I reach out first. He’s a good guy. My stepmom’s pretty cool, too. And I have sisters? So that’s awesome. And yeah, he had this friend who passed away when he was younger, and he always wanted to name his son after him, but then Mom disappeared and he only ended up having daughters, so when he found me, it kind of worked out.” He hesitated. “I’m Damian. Damian Raphael Harker.”

“That’s such a cool name,” Erin sighed.

Raph—Damian—tilted his head back to grin at her. “Yours is cool, too.”

“Shut up,” she said fondly.

“No, seriously,” he said emphatically. “Your name is unspeakably cool.”

There was something odd in his tone, sticking up and catching like a loose nail. It bothered her, the same way something Angelique said earlier had bothered her.

“Hey, Ra—Damian?” Erin said cautiously. “Earlier, when Angelique sat down with us, she didn’t recognize me.”

“She does, don’t worry.”

“No, she didn’t,” Erin pressed. “It took her a second to realize who I was, and she stopped herself from saying why.”

Suddenly Damian looked deeply uncomfortable. “I, uh.”

She took a deep breath. “Was I dead in your time?”

“Wh-no! No no no no, of course not!” Damian looked horrified. “We played Pathfinder like last week, you’re not dead.”

“What’s Path—no, never mind. Something’s clearly up. If we just played whatever-that-is last week, and Angelique is your wife, then why didn’t she know who I was?”

“Uh…” Damian’s hands had worked their way deep into his sleeves. “You look different, that’s all. You kind of reinvented yourself in college.”

“Oh,” Erin said, momentarily relieved. Then— “Wait.”

“What?’

“Damian. You’d—” She hesitated. “If I was a guy, you’d tell me, right?’

“Oh my God,” Damian mumbled into his be-sweatered hands.

“Damian.”

“You’re... not...”

“You’d tell me, right?”

“See, I don’t know if I would!” Damian answered, in a strained high-pitched tone. “That’s—look. If you were a guy, that’s something you’d have to work out for yourself!”

“Damian, I swear to God.”

“I can’t crack your egg for you, that’s like violating the Prime Directive!”

Erin seized a pillow and started to buffet him with it. “You are such a nerd!”

“It’s your personal journey, you can’t use me to cheat!” Damian cackled, fending her off with a plush horse.

***

“Yeah I’ll get the banana split.” Angie bounced on the balls of her feet, eyes raking over the array of toppings. “Can you put caramel and chocolate sauce on it? And Heath bar pieces, chopped strawberries, and M&Ms.”

“Yeah, sure thing.”

It took all of her self-control not to press her nose against the glass as she watched them make it. Some small part of her balked at the sight of three huge scoops of ice cream and all the toppings, but she quieted it. She had a second shot at being a teenager, and that meant never taking her garbage disposal stomach and body made of rubber bands for granted ever again.

She hummed absently to herself, only to pause halfway through the tune. How did it go again? She tried repeating the first half, only to get stuck at the same spot. Oh, this was going to bug the crap out of her. It wasn’t like she could look it up, not when the song wouldn’t come out for almost ten years—

Her phone vibrated in her purse, and she checked it absentmindedly, zeroing in for a moment on the DAD displayed on the screen. After a moment, she put it back without answering. If it was that important, he could text.

Sure enough, her phone gave a short buzz. New text message—he hadn’t even bothered to leave a voicemail.

DADI need you to talk to your brother.

Angie checked her banana split’s progress with a glance, and replied.

lol why

DADHe’s not listening to me. We both know the courts favor the mother so if we’re going to beat her I need both of you on your A game.

Angie ground her teeth until her jaw creaked.

what do you need me to do

DADJust coach him on how to talk about her. You’re a smart lady, I know you can do it. He’s always getting scuffed up at practice, just have him say the bruises came from her. Throw in a drinking problem if you have to, just keep your stories straight.

why father dearest i’m surprised at youyou want me to lie under oath?

DADJust talk to him, will you? Keep your stories straight, don’t get too outlandish, and we’ll get out of this with everything we want. You’ll never have to hear the word no again, I promise.

ok daddy ill do my best!

DADGood girl. You’re the smartest girl I know. Smarter than your mom, smarter than her bitch lawyer. Love you!

“Order up!”

Angie brought her banana split to the table with the clearest view of the door. It took her a moment to decide how to begin, then nearly a full minute balancing equal parts ice cream, banana, and toppings in a single spoonful. She managed it in the end.

Mood lifted, she unlocked her phone again and made a call. “Heeeey, Anika.”

“Need I remind you that phone calls are billable,” her mother’s lawyer said dryly.

“Yeah, I’ll be quick, I have some incriminating text messages I think you’ll be interested in?”

The sound of rustling papers paused. “Go on…?”

“Dad just told me to lie to the judge,” Angie explained, twirling a thin ribbon of caramel around her spoon. “And to coach Eric to lie to the judge. I took screenshots.”

Anika cursed softly under her breath. “Thank you for telling me. Send them to your mom, okay? Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

The bell above the ice cream parlor door jingled, and Angie perked up as both Damian (Raph?) and Erin walked in. She waved them over, grinning when both pairs of eyes widened at her treat.

“That thing’s half the size of your head,” Erin pointed out.

“Sure is, you guys came just in time.” Angie nudged it across the table, along with the two extra spoons. “If we split it, I’ll have enough room for a milkshake chaser.”

“You’re a monster,” Damian said delightedly. “Oh shit, are those Heath bars?” He dug in without waiting for an answer.

“They’re peanut butter cups,” she said solemnly, once he’d taken a bite and could probably tell they weren’t. “I added them just to hurt you.” Damian rolled his eyes and dug his spoon back in.

Erin stared at her, probably still baffled by the gentle banter, but at least she looked more curious than infuriated, like instead of being suspicious she simply didn’t know what to make of Angie.

“So, you guys talked?” Angie asked carefully. “Are we… all good?”

“I think so,” Damian replied, shooting a cautious glance at Erin.

“You’re on thin ice,” Erin informed her as she helped herself to the chocolate scoop.

“Fair.” Angie didn’t remember Erin putting up quite as much of a fight, but then, it had been years when they’d reconnected before. This time around, it was still fresh.

“The ice cream helps,” Erin added, slightly muffled by the spoon in her mouth.

“Noted.” Angie paused, weighed her options, and shrugged. No harm no foul, probably. “Hey, you’re a musician, right?”

Erin swallowed. “Yeah, why?”

“And not just a performer, but you write music too, right?”

“Yeeaaah?” Erin squinted suspiciously. Beside her, Damian shot Angie a warning glare.

“If I give you half a tune, could you resolve it?”

Erin was staring at her like she’d grown a second head. “Probably.”

“Great!” Angie hummed the earworm from earlier. “How would the next part go?”

Erin repeated it to herself, nodding along. After a moment, she said, “Probably like—”

And sure enough, there it was. The rest of the chorus’s tune came rushing back to Angie’s memory, and she breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Thanks! That was driving me nuts.” Angie returned to her banana split, ignoring Damian’s growing scowl.

Later, when Erin was in the bathroom and  Angelique was standing in line to order her promised milkshake, Damian dug his elbow into her side. “You’re not as slick as you think you are,” he muttered.

“What?” Angie said innocently. “I didn’t give anything away.”

“You just taught her half the chorus of a song she’s eight years away from writing!”

“I’ve planted a seed,” Angie insisted. “I’ve created a stable time loop.”

“That is not what you did and you know it.” Damian pursed his lips, clearly trying to stay annoyed with her. “I barely avoided spoiling her transition, and that’s after she asked me to my face.”

Angie grinned. “So you haven’t told her she’s a genderfluid punk rocker yet?”

“No. Because she’s not a genderfluid punk rocker yet.”

“And now, when she becomes one,” Angie said with a smile, “she’s going to look back on this day and laugh.”

[queen-of-the-avengers]

After So Long

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: angst

Summary: You're forced to go back to the one place you tried to hard to get away from. You're forced to contront the memories you left behind.

Between Love and Hate Masterlist

Squares Filled: protection (2023) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Then

It seemed like wherever Bucky went, Steve and Sam followed. You thought it’d be nice to go shopping at your local mall with Bucky since he’d been so busy with work. You put on something cute to wear and did your hair only to feel like you’re being followed the whole time. You tried to ignore them but it was hard when you saw their black clothes in every corner.

“Does this look cute?” you asked and held up a shirt.

“On me or you?” Bucky joked.

“Ha-ha, very funny. Wait, it might look good on you.”

Bucky smiled and took the shirt while you moved to a different section of the store, the dresses. He didn’t mind holding the things you wanted to get. He’d do it forever if he knew this made you happy. It does. You liked shopping. Just not with grown men following you.

“Do they have to be here?” you sighed as you looked at the dresses.

“It’s a precaution, pisică.”

You liked the little nicknames he gave you, especially in his native tongue, Romanian.

“Because of your job?” Bucky nodded. “When are you gonna tell me what you do?”

“I’d rather stay in our little bubble a little while longer, if possible.”

“Fine, but you will have to tell me eventually.” Bucky didn’t respond to that. Once you were done with the dresses, you moved to the jewelry section. The prices in this store were outrageous and you turned to Bucky with a frown. “Are you sure we should keep shopping here? I’ve already spent enough of your money.”

“Pisică, I make more money in an hour than the one hundred grand you’re going to spend.”

“You’re spoiling me,” you grinned.

Bucky pulled you into him and placed his hands on your ass, not caring if anyone saw.

“You’re my girl. Of course, I will.”

He leaned down and kissed you and your heart swelled in happiness.

Now

You always knew Bucky would find you but you didn’t know when or where it’d happen. He truly didn’t know where you were for the first six months you were gone. After you enrolled in college, he found you. In order to apply for it, you had to use your real name which Sam caught when he was looking for you online.

Despite what you may think of him, he really does love you. He just has a weird way of showing it.

Bucky has left his men behind where you crashed your car at while his driver takes you to one of his mansions. You’ve been to almost all of them because he used to take you all around the country for the hell of it. You have a room in every single one of them.

“Pisică--”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap and look at him.

“It took a long time to find you. I thought you had dropped off the face of the Earth.”

“Bite me.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he smirks. He loses it when he thinks about what to ask next. “Why did you run?”

You look at him with wide eyes and a parted mouth. “Did you really just ask me that? You’re a murderer.”

“Well, that depends on how to look at it.”

“There’s no looking at it differently. You kill people. That’s murder.”

Bucky decides to change the topic because he’s not gonna get far with you accusing him of things he’s done.

“Remember how we met?” It’s incredible how this man can jump from one topic to the next. “I do. I even remember the kiss we shared. Care to hear it from my perspective?”

“Not really?”

He tells you the story anyway as if you weren't there to begin with.

Bucky met up with several potential business partners that he thought would benefit him and his company. He’s one of the biggest mafia bosses this country has ever seen and having allies is much better than having enemies. He controls the weapons market, the communication sector, and most of the casinos across the country. These men would give him access to most of the drug trading posts if they’d only get their heads out of their asses and agree to his terms.

He doesn’t let the storm outside prevent him from doing business which is why he took this little meeting to one of the most expensive and high-end restaurants in town. The owner knows him and always gives him a good deal.

“Ma’am! You can’t just run in here!”

Bucky looks up and locks eyes with the most gorgeous woman he has ever seen before. Granted, she’s soaking wet from the rain outside. She looks fearful as if she’s running from someone. For some reason, Bucky would kill anyone who ever made her feel unsafe, and he doesn’t even know her.

She looks back outside and runs further into the restaurant, ignoring the calls from the hostess. She runs right over to him and interrupts the meeting he carefully set up without a care in the world. There’s panic in her eyes. She’s afraid. If only she knew who he was.

“I’m so sorry. Please play along.”

A man comes into the restaurant just as soaked as she is but Bucky doesn’t have time to react. She sits on his lap and kisses him desperately. He wraps an arm around her waist to keep her from falling off his lap and kisses her back. She is getting his nice suit wet but he doesn’t care. This kiss not only screams ‘I’m desperate’ but it screams ‘I need help’. The men Bucky is with chuckle but he tunes them out.

“Sir!”

Bucky can only assume the man had left the restaurant. His mysterious lover tries to pull away from him but he pulls her in closer and continues to kiss her. Only when he is satisfied does he finally let her go. She turns to check that the man isn’t there anymore and visually relaxes.

“I am so sorry.”

“Ex-boyfriend?”

“Yeah. He wouldn’t let me leave and I only managed to get away from him.” something comes over her face and she backs away in embarrassment. “God, that was so rude of me. I don’t know you. Thank you for that. Again, I’m really sorry I interrupted your dinner.”

She leaves the table and checks to make sure her ex isn’t outside looking for her. Once she feels she’s safe, she runs back outside into the pouring rain. Bucky clears his throat and takes out his phone so he can call one of his trusted men. He has Sam working on something in another state so Steve is who he calls.

“Boss?”

“Did you see her run out?”

“Yes.”

“Follow her. Find out about the boyfriend.”

“Yes, sir.”

Bucky gets off the phone and returns to his meeting like nothing happened.

“You came in there dripping wet. You came over to me and kissed me. Do you remember that kiss? How desperate you were for it?” During his storytelling, Bucky pulled you closer to him and slid his hand in your hair. His hand is so big that he can cup the side of your head and still run his thumb over your bottom lip. “Do you remember the taste of my lips on yours?”

“I will never kiss you again much less do anything more than that.”

You push him away and he smirks in amusement. He keeps his hands to himself for the rest of the ride. His mansion is like the one in New York just with more acres. He has the ultimate dream house fit with anything you can think of. Pools, spas, theaters, sports courts, and a ton more.

You dread coming back here not because it reminds you of Bucky but because it reminds you of the good times you had with him. The times from before you knew what he did for work.

You’re escorted inside his mansion and taken to a room with Steve. It’s like you’re being placed on time out because Steve stands by the door as if he isn’t allowed to let you leave.

“Ai grijă la ea, e foarte drăguță, dar e o fire plină de luptă. Ea nu iese din casă.”

Watch out for her, she’s real pretty but she’s a feisty one. She doesn’t leave the house.

Bucky keeps eye contact with you the whole time before leaving the room. Your blood boils.

“Ești un laș care se ascunde în spatele unei armate de oameni!”

You’re a coward who hides behind an army of men!

Bucky doesn’t bat an eye at your words. He’s the one who taught you Romanian, now you’re using it against him.

“I’m leaving,” you say to Steve and storm to the door.

Steve lets you out of the room knowing there are guards posted at every door to prevent you from leaving the mansion. Sam stands at the front door so he must be done cleaning the crash of your car. 

“Sorry, you can’t leave. Bosses’ order,” Sam says and stops you from leaving.

Instead of standing here arguing with him, you figured you get this over with. Your room hasn’t been touched since you left, and you can only assume your other rooms in the other mansions haven’t been touched either. This room is filled with so many good memories of you and Bucky. You hate that you’re looking at them now with such disdain.

Bucky was never one for pictures so the ones he did take were inappropriate to post anywhere. He thought it was funny to print them out and frame them for your room to always remind you who you belong to. Maybe you still do. Maybe you don’t. You’re not sure of how you feel anymore.

It hurts to look at them because you still love him. You’re so damn in love with him and it hurts because you thought you’d never love a murderer.

Bucky returns to the house hours later, well into the night. He finds you asleep in your own bed with dried tears on your cheeks. He looks at the pictures on the dresser and yanks his tie off angrily. He makes sure to be quiet as he walks over to you.

“I love you so much,” he whispers.

He kisses your forehead before leaving your room. God, he wishes things were different. He hates seeing you in pain.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[lunajay33]

Change Part.2

•🩰🎀🩷•

Summary: Y/n is a loner but loves ballet but her family doesn’t have enough money for her to dance at the studio, Daryl is a redneck who hates people and prefers bikes, until one day these two run into eachother and their lives change drastically, will Daryl toughen her up? Will y/n soften Daryl? Or both? How will things go when people start coming back from the dead

Pairing: Young Daryl Dixon x f!reader

A/n: This is going to be a series, it’s gonna start with how they met eachother and their lives before the apocalypse, eventually it’ll blend with twd story line!!

Part.1

•Masterlist•

It had been a week since Daryl and I’s first time hanging out and things have been nice, if that’s the word that could describe complete peace and acceptance around him, he’s the first person to ever see me for me and treat me normally, like o wasn’t a burden or a weirdo quiet loner

At school we’d help each other throughout class, well mostly me helping him when he didn’t know the answer to a question on our daily biology work book, and he started to sit with me on the bench behind the school bordering the towns woods, same as today

“So what do you have for lunch?” I asked as I sat cross cross facing him

“Just a sandwich, sucks” he said shrugging his shoulders

“Here you can have my chips” I said handing him my little bag of sour cream and onions chips

“Nah it’s yers” he said waving his hand

“You’re having them” I said placing them down next to him so he couldn’t refuse

“I’m not that hungry anyways so it’s fine” I said as I took another bite out of my green apple, I don’t know why but I’ve just lost my appetite lately, maybe it was the stress at work plus home life plus school stacked on top of each other but I tried not to think about it too much

“Ya sure? Ya should eat more” he said squinting at me

“I’ll be fine I’ll just eat when I get home maybe…..maybe if you’re not doing anything would you like to come over?” I asked hesitantly, we haven’t hung out, outside of school since Sunday and now it was Friday and I was just crawling to be alone with him again

“Sure, I ain’t got nothing going on” he said as he ripped open the chips but I swear I saw a faint smile

The bell rang signalling the end of the day, I went to my locker, pulled on my coat and stuff my textbooks into my bag for the homework I had to do over the weekend, I closed my locker jumping when I saw Daryl already there with a smirk

“Jerk you scared me” I said laughing as we started heading for the exit, the gust of fall air felt amazing, fall was always my favorite the leave turning to burnt orange and falling to the ground, the wind with the aroma of wet leaves it was comforting

We got some weird stares from people like the snotty preppy girls but when I looked at the football team all huddled by the car lot by heart dropped, Jackson looked at me with so much hatred and I knew it was because he hated the dixons, I wasn’t embarrassed of Daryl, he’s my friend I was just scared of what Jackson would do

We continued walking towards my house, it was silent most of the way

“So….how much more money do ya gotta save for ballet lessons” he asked his hands stuffed in his baggy cargo pants

“Well the lessons are a hundred dollars a month so for a year it would be twelve hundred a year so I’m really far off, I only get paid 9 dollars an hour at the dinner and i don’t get that many shifts so it’s starting to become just a dream plus I’m probably too old now” I said upset knowing now that doing the math I’d probably never get to be that ballerina I always craved to be, to dance in those pink slippers and tights, to feel the music move me

“I can help ya, I got some extra money” he said with these hopefully eyes I’ve never really seen on him before and it made my heart thump

“Are Daryl I can’t have you do that, it’s your money you worked hard for, it’s okay I’ll just watch Swan lake over and over again” I said laughing pathetically trying to make this situation not as awkward and sad, but wasn’t that just me? Awkward and sad

“But it’s yer dream”

“Ya it’s just a dream but it’s fine Daryl, I’m sure I can find something else to make me happy” I said smiling at him as we finally made it to my house, we went straight to my room dropping our bags and stripping our jackets to flop down on the bed and just look at the ceiling

“Show me this swan lake yer always talkin ‘bout” he said as he laid his arm behind his head looking at me with a smile that warmed my heart, if this is what having friends was like I’m glad I finally had one

“Okay!” I said as I jumped up and put in the vhs into my dingy old tv hearing the tape wind up and appear on screen all grainy but beautiful, I sat back down next to Daryl as we watch the whole dance I knew every move, every turn of music notes it was amazing

The black swan was devastatingly beautiful, and the song change when she appears hits me deep inside and my skin shivers with amazement every after the numerous amount of times I’ve watched this, then it was over and the tape cut off

“So how did you like it?” I asked excited for his impression

“I ain’t one fer this kinda thang but it was…….cool”

“It’s kinda like us, I’m the white swan that everyone runs over and you’re the strong black swan, sad and beautiful” his face turned red as he cleared his throat and looked away

“Nah stop that” it was cute making him embarrased in a sweet way

“Well it’s true maybe you could learn it and dance with me” I said 100% joking knowing that would never happen but would be funny to see

“I ain’t gonna do that, but…..I’ll watch ya dance” he said looking back at me the pink tint still lingering on his cheeks

“I just need slippers first” I said laying back down next to him

We must have fell asleep because we were abruptly woken up to my door slamming open and Jackson and his one jerk friend coming in, we shot up in bed and I instantly felt scared

“Jackson what are you doing?”

“Really a Dixon, I knew you were a slut” he said as his friend laughed

“What no he’s my friend, just leave”

“If you’re gonna sleep with whoever what about my friend here” his friend came up to me grabbing my arm and trying to drag me off the bed but I held on tight to the sheets

“Leave me alone, let go” I said panicking, I felt his grip let go and when I looked Daryl had him on the ground punching his face in, Jackson grabbed him and threw him back

“Get the hell outta here, ya ever touch her again and yer dead, I swear I’ll kill ya” Daryl groaned as they both left shutting the door

Daryl led me back to sitting on the bed, his touch was comforting and warm compared to the harsh cold grip I was just in

“Are ya okay?” He asked making me look at him as he wiped my tears away

“I think I’m gonna be sick” I whined the anxiety so high I didn’t know what to do

“Shhhh yer safe now just breath”

He helped me relax but that thought of not being safe alone scared me, what if Daryl wasn’t here? What would’ve happened?

“Daryl….will you stay with me tonight?”

“I don’t know ya sure ya want me here”

“Please I’m scared to be alone with them here”

“If that’s what ya want” he said getting up and taking some blankets from my closet setting up a makeshift bed on the floor right next to my bed, the adrenaline crush was hitting me hard and I was exhausted, I laid down facing him, seeing him sprawled out just as tired as me

The moonlight from the window was bathing Daryl in a silver hue, he looked almost ethereal and I felt my heart thump again, I’m glad I met Daryl and that we were paired in class, he feels safe, he feels like……like my hope

“Goodnight Daryl”

“Goodnight ballerina” he said huffing a little laugh but my heart filled with joy hearing that, this was my first sleepover ever and it wasn’t how I thought I would start but I’m glad he’s here non the less

Part.3!

Taglist: @pinchofthetwd @bigbaldheadname @strawberrykiwisdogog @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @l0kilaufeys0n7 @welcumetomyescape @severelykinky @tesfayera @daryldixmedown

[callalillywrites]

His Scarred Omega Part 4

Part 3 / Series Masterlist

Relationship: Alpha!Bucky Barnes x Omega!Reader

Word Count: ~1900

Summary: Bucky celebrates his first Halloween with his daughter and Omega.

Warnings: insecure Omega, flirty Bucky, flirty Jake, sappy-happy Bucky

A/N: I wrote this story really fast as I mentioned above. It’s proofread but all mistakes are my own.

I also do not give permission for my work to be copied or posted on other sites or fed into an AI machine.

*****

With Halloween growing ever closer, Bucky invites Omega and Gracie to a friend’s place for a family-friendly party. Jake’s assured Bucky his niece would be there, someone Gracie’s own age as well as some others to keep them from being too bored. Steve also promises there will be plenty of homes they can trick-or-treat from, giving Gracie something else to look forward to.

Bucky can’t help taking several pictures of Gracie in her costume. (Omega managed to divert her away from the Harley Quinn costume and into something a bit more kid appropriate.)

He also snaps a couple of Omega when she isn’t looking to save on his phone.

Gracie’s now going as cute little witch. Her blue eyes are sparkling with a bit of help from her mischievous nature, so like his own, and some eyeshadow that Omega helps her put on. The costume’s light-up abilities really sold themselves when Omega presented it to Gracie as did Bucky’s endorsement of the costume.

“You look beautiful, sweet girl,” he assures her when she does a final spin for him.

“What about Auntie? She looks nice, too, doesn’t she?”

Bucky glances at Omega and nods. His lips quirk into a small grin as he takes in the Greek goddess dress she’s put on. She’s added a few golden adornments she’s made to complete her look along with some golden accent makeup that makes her face glow.

“No, I think nice isn’t the right word, sweet girl. I think the word we need for this moment is beautiful or maybe breathtaking. What do you think?”

Omega’s cheeks are heating at his praise though she’s shaking her head at him even as a smile makes her that much more stunning in his eyes.

Gracie eventually breaks through the spell casting around them as she agrees with Bucky.

Omega is doing her best not to let Bucky’s flirting get to her. There’s no way in the world he can ever be interested in her, not after everything with Dot. Besides, she knows he’s just being nice to keep himself in her good graces where Gracie is concerned.

She can tell he’s gearing up to ask for a weekend with Gracie that includes an overnight at his place. As much as Omega isn’t sure she’s ready for that, she also knows that Bucky and Gracie are growing closer to one another. It’s only natural he wants more time with his daughter, especially with so much time he’s already lost with her.

To get them back on safer ground, Omega steers the conversation back on track by saying, “I think Bucky looks quite the pirate, don’t you, Gracie? Looks like he could take over a ship in the harbor and sail away any moment.”

Bucky grins at that. “I’d never sail anywhere without my best girls at my side. Gonna need someone to make sure I don’t get seasick, you know.”

“Somehow, I doubt you get seasick. Those legs of yours look sturdy enough to handle even the roughest seas.”

It hits Omega a second later what she’s said, her cheeks heating further with the tips of her ears and neck joining in, too.

Bucky, thankfully, doesn’t comment further on her obvious embarrassment, but then, the weird connection they share between them tells her he’s quite flattered at her appreciation of his legs. Neither of them still have a clue why this connection exists between them, but they have slowly come to accept it over the last couple of weeks.

Soon enough, they’re heading towards Jake’s home with Steve and Angel.

Gracie doesn’t stop asking questions about his friends and Jake’s niece. Her hope of gaining a new friend is quite palpable as she’s been struggling in school to accomplish the same. Then again, it’s harder to make friends when you’re dumped in a new school after the start of the year.

Bucky’s certain she’ll find her footing soon enough as she’s only been in the school a couple of weeks.

He’s been checking in with her teacher about how she’s doing, something he’s been able to do since Omega added him to Gracie’s file. Sure, he’s only added as an emergency contact, but he’s hoping that will change to full guardianship soon enough alongside Omega’s name.

According to her teacher, she’s settling in well enough though she’s still a bit on the quieter side. She’s quite helpful though she does tend to stick to herself rather than branch out, but her teacher is seeing some signs that Gracie is adjusting and reaching out to her classmates, giving Bucky the assurance she’ll be fine.

When Jake’s home comes into view, Bucky can’t help the small smile curling the corners of his lips as he glances at both Gracie and Omega. He can’t wait to show off his daughter to his friends and her sweet Omega aunt.

Angel meets him at the door and immediately smiles at Omega and Gracie.

“Oh, there’s our guests of honor. It’s so nice to see you both again. Come in. Come in. Jake is so eager to meet you both. Plus, his niece just got here and is already bored with us grownups. Would you like to meet her, Gracie?”

Gracie grins at Angel and takes her hand without hesitation.

Bucky motions Omega in after him and manages to lean in to say softly, “You really are breathtaking, Precious.”

Omega doesn’t get the chance to say anything as Steve and Jake converge on them.

Jake earns a deep growl from Bucky when he dares to awkwardly flirt with Omega after their introductions. Rather than be scared though, Jake just shoots Bucky a cheeky grin while holding his hands up in a surrendering gesture.

“Only fair since you flirted with mine when you first met her.”

Omega arches a brow at Bucky then. “So, you have flirted with Angel then?”

“Only to mess with this dork. Angel will never have eyes for another alpha but him.”

Before Omega can get away, he wraps an arm around her waist and tugs her close enough so he can whisper, “Besides, there’s only one omega that has my undivided attention these days.”

“You don’t have to say things you don’t mean, Bucky. Gracie’s already half in love with you as her dad. You don’t have to keep flattering me to win her over.”

The guarded look in Omega’s eyes has Bucky pulling her closer. His free hand cups her cheek, his thumb running over her cheekbone.

“What if I’m trying to win you over, too? What do I need to say or do for you to realize I think you’re the most wonderful, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, Precious?”  

Omega doesn’t know what to say to that. As much as she wants to believe Bucky, she also can’t help wondering if he’s done this with Dot or any number of other omegas in the years they’ve lost touch.

Besides that, she knows she’s not like other omegas. She’s definitely no Dot. She’s never pretended to be. Maybe that’s why it’d been so easy for her future alpha to claim Dot while she’d been working hard for their future and Gracie’s. Doesn’t mean the betrayal doesn’t hurt any less though.

Can she trust another alpha to not hurt her again? Can she trust Bucky?

She’s still waiting for him to decide he’s done enough to claim Gracie through the courts and sever any connections she has with Gracie. It’s something she’s seen happen before, and she can’t handle the thought of losing the last member of her family.

It takes her a moment longer than it should’ve to feel and recognize the deep rumble pouring out of Bucky and into her. His hold on her tightens as he does his best to soothe the dark thoughts swirling within her.

This darn connection between them is proving quite maddening. It’s giving her hope where she shouldn’t have any. Bucky, for all intents and purposes, will forever belong to Dot because of Gracie. It’s a futile hope for Omega to think that she can ever compete with Dot’s memory or believe she can wriggle into his heart where she wouldn’t mind being.

It’s all his fault, too.

The constant flowers every weekend he spends with her and Gracie. Doing his best to spoil her as much as he does Gracie on their outings. He’s never failed to buy her something wherever they go, especially something she eyes while they’re there. He never fails to defer to her judgment where Gracie is concerned, too, wanting to make sure he never oversteps.

And hundreds of other tiny things he’s done for her and Gracie since they bumped into him that day.

In just these few short weeks, he’s managed to turn her crush into something so much deeper, and she’s not sure she can or wants to be mad about it.

“Will you and Gracie come back to my place tonight? I have something I want to show you.”

“All our stuff is back home,” she whispers, the only excuse she can latch onto to deny him.

He simply smiles against her skin. She can feel it as he presses the softest kiss to her hair that she’s ever experienced in her life. It’s enough to weaken her resolve and her knees.

“I’ve been preparing for this, Precious. You and Gracie will have everything you need for a single night away.”

“I’ll consider it,” she says before Steve comes to check on them at Angel’s behest.

The rest of the evening, Omega manages to keep Bucky at arm’s length for her sanity. She spends as much time as she can helping Angel out between serving up food and keeping the few kiddos out of trouble.

Gracie and Jake’s niece end up hitting it off so well that both are already begging for sleepovers and other playdates together.

True to Steve’s word, the neighborhood ends up being one of the best trick-or-treating locations with almost all the houses offering candy to the kids traveling between the houses. Some even go so far as to offer up some small but creative haunted houses for the kids to shriek and laugh their way through.

It’s in one of these that Bucky finally gets the chance to have Omega at his side once again. His hand remains firmly interlaced with hers as they see all the spooky sights, tightening in the few instances where a jump scare lands successfully. Hearing Omega’s small yelps and her other hand wrapping around his arm puffs him up in ways he never thought to feel again. It’s definitely intoxicating and something he wants to experience over and over again.

When they finally return to Jake’s home, Gracie can barely keep her eyes open.

Bucky’s carrying her while Omega has her sack of candy.

“You have fun, sweet girl?”

Gracie nods against his neck, a huge yawn escaping. “Do we have to go home?”

“Yeah, we do, but I promise you’ll see your new friend again soon. Auntie and I’ll make sure of it.”

“I love you, Daddy,” she says as sleep claims her.

Bucky’s knees nearly buckle as tears of pure joy blur his vision. He brings his hand up to rub at her back as he whispers back, “I love you, too, my sweet girl. Always and forever.”

*****

Verse Masterlist / Main Masterlist

[imagine-darksiders]

Plot head cannons or wishes for the next Darksiders game announcement?? I must pick your brain

I am praying for a Strife centred game. I’m curious as to whether they’ll make it a 3rd person shooter because of his guns.

“Strife attends to other matters.”

The Council mentioning this in Darksiders 3 is a bit of a narrative indicator that we might find out what those other matters were at some point.

Much as I’d like to see a game following the events of 1, I’d just as happily love a game where we see Strife come doing various realm hopping until he eventually gets to Earth and falls in with a group of humans. Maybe we’ll even see how he meets Ulthane.

Also, one of his weapons ends up in Tri Stone. Now I know I’m hoping for a lot, but it’d be awesome to see if Strife met one of the makers from Tri Stone and they get his gun, maybe Valus or - be still my beating heart - KARN!!!?!??

Having said that, the game could just as easily be the final instalment where all 4 of the Horsemen come together to face Lilith and Lucifer, but I don’t think it will be.

I have a strong suspicion that Strife is the final puzzle piece that’s going to tie everything together. They’ve set him up as a hidden but imperative figure from the very beginning.

I’d go so far as to wager that he’s the most important Horseman to the narrative. That’s why they held him back, I remember there was a lot of speculation as to why Nordic made Darksiders 2 about Death when he was supposedly ‘the last Horseman’ but now I’m wondering if that was a convenient way to structure the series.

Did they literally decide to bring in the big guns last?

Alternatively to all of this, I rewatched the teaser and noticed something…

We get two shots here of chains…

Now that may be purely a design choice for the Council’s chamber, and I’m probably looking at this way too closely, but I can’t help wondering if it’s a nod to more War involvement.

Also, I’m sure it’s totally random but I thought it was cool how in this part-

Some letters are faded. Now I put this through translators, but all I could decipher was that Repar translates from Latin to ‘Repair/fix’ and Do means ‘I.’

I fix??? Lmao

ANYWAY

Yeah, ideally, I, like many, would love to see a game centred on Strife’s story, how he went from jerk to jerk with a heart of gold. Took a level in kindness and became Humanity’s weird little sociopathic hero.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

as someone who's an azul kinnie im curious why you placed azul on the slightly dislike list considering you like scheming characters

[My TWST character tier list is here.]

I think the easiest way to explain it is that I came in with the wrong expectations of him? I thought Azul would be similar to what Jade’s character actually was, so Jade ended up upstaging him in that regard. Essentially, not all scheming characters are equivalent; Azul has other traits which weigh him down for me.

I’ve mentioned this before, but I’ll reiterate it here because I feel it is very relevant for Azul. I… tend to not like “main” guys because of of how much they appear everywhere (including merch and marketing); it makes me feel like I’m being “pushed” to like them specifically rather than being allowed to think for myself about who I like. This is the case for dorm leaders, which includes Azul. Additionally, “main” guys tend to get more of a story focus (also true of the dorm leaders), and that in of itself can be a double edged sword. It means more information + backstory about that character, and while that’s great for lore and fleshing them out, it also means potentially polarizing the fans who were content with their perception of the character prior to the reveal. Once that change happens, it completely shifts how you see the character and then you can’t go back to how you felt before. This was a painful factor in what I call the “stock market crash” of my opinion of Azul Ashengrotto.

I actually quite liked him at first. I took his hand at the start when I first started playing TWST back in 2020 ^^! I even *gasp* simped a little??? (weird AU where Azul was my oshi instead of J word…) He was every bit an intelligent and calculating deal maker as I suspected he would be—well, at least that’s what the few vignettes available at the time and book 2 implied. Back then, only books 1 and 2 were available in full and book 3 was slooowly being updated in chunks. And really, I was liking book 3 a lot (he was still being a silly little scumbag, lol) and took no issue with it… UNTIL THE LAST PART DROPPED 💀 AND WE GOT HIS BACKSTORY…

Now 💦 I’m aware that the OB boys’ backstories usually garner sympathy and enhance the preexisting love we have for those characters but… Azul’s backstory actually had a very strong opposite effect on me. It was the moment I realized, “Hey, maybe I don’t like you as much as I thought I did.” I’d describe the feeling like having a pleasant dream and then you’re suddenly violently awoken by a loud alarm clock, a screeching parrot, and Sebek shouting in your ears at once.

I want to be clear when I say I do not mean to demean or to diminish Azul’s experiences of being bullied. I also do not mean to shame Azul for being (rightfully) upset about his circumstances or for being emotional. When I say that I started disliking Azul because of this backstory, it’s for a very personal reason: I just don’t like stories where a victim of bullying becomes a bully, thus perpetuating the cycle. It’s sad to see someone go down that path, spreading more hate because of the hate they had received before… and I’ll never believe that revenge is a good response for an injustice 😔 Azul’s case is a little different, as he does eventually go on to recognize how far he has strayed from the benevolent ideals of the Sea Witch and is now actively trying to work on himself (which I appreciate and applaud him for). However, it still leaves a bad taste in my mouth that I can’t quite scrub away. I think it’s because I found myself relating to kid!Azul in some ways, so that personal connection amplified the disappointment I felt in the decisions he made. It feels like looking into an alternate reality where I, too, went down a dark path—and that thought is unpleasant, to say the very least. Now I view Azul more like a cautionary tale and keep a safe distance from him.

[synthetickitsune]

Joshua (Seventeen) | Thoughts that linger comfort | 0.9k | gn!reader A/N: if you haven't noticed yet that i like to vent sometimes through my writing, be warned :))

Joshua knows that you’re in a peculiar mood when he sees you. The first hint is the lifeless manner in which you’re lying on the couch. You’re staring towards the ceiling, eyes unfocused, and he knows that there’s too many thoughts in your mind (even if you’ve told him before that it also feels like your mind is completely blank).

He approaches slowly, but makes no effort to stay entirely quiet so you eventually notice him without getting startled. You greet him with a smile that doesn’t really reach your eyes.

“Hey,” he kisses your forehead and sits down on the floor in front of you, “How was your day? What happened?”

You turn to face him and give him an uncertain look. He nods, reassuring you that it’s fine. Afterall, even if you asked him about his day, he’d make it short. He needs to make sure you’re alright first.

“Remember how I told you I’d hangout with my coworker and his partner after my shift?” you start, reaching out to pay with Joshua’s hair. He leans closer to rest his chin on the edge of the couch to make it easier for you. He’s not gonna lie, your words made him anxious and maybe he also wants to be closer to you. He nods.

“Well, we met up with their friends, they had a couple drinks and it was fun, but I was really tired so I left early,” you twirl a strand of his hair around your finger. Shua’s hair is so soft and nice to touch. He waits patiently for you to finish, his worries fading away as your voice remains impassive. At least it seems like you didn’t get hurt and nothing upsetting happened.

“When I was leaving, I met my coworker and one of the guys outside. They were kind of drunk, so my coworker hugged me goodbye and told me to hug the other guy, and we were talking a lot, so whatever, but I didn’t know if he’d be alright with it so I asked if I can hug him and they were both surprised by it,” you take a pause, running your hand through Shua’s hair. He’s wearing a gentle smile now that he knows you’re just thinking too deep. “And the coworker told me that it’s strange and that he never thought about doing that, and that I must be really considerate and kind, and… I don’t know. It made me feel weird.”

He hums, taking a second to consider the story.

“I don’t think it’s strange,” he says, finally meeting your eyes for a second, “I usually do that too if I’m not sure.”

“You have a reputation to uphold, gentleman,” you roll your eyes, fondly, “But what does it make me?”

Joshua’s smile grows a little wider. You brush the corner of his lips with your thumb, very slowly, before you return your attention to his hair.

“I think the guy told you - kind,” he says, smiling still, “I know you don’t think so, but you are.”

“Says the guy who’s rather sitting on the floor, without a pillow or anything, just so he isn’t looking down on me,” you grumble, “The same guy who’s letting me play with his hair because he knows it comforts me.”

He chuckles, leaning his head further into your palm as he does. His eyes sparkle in the rays of the setting sun that illuminate the room. It makes him look soft - softer than he usually looks.

“Caught me,” he admits, then he gently takes your hand that’s been playing with his hair and brings it to his lips, “But you’re lying.”

You frown, and the wrinkle between your brows deepens when he only smiles somewhat sadly.

“You’re not playing with my hair to comfort yourself. It’s so you don’t cry,” he explains, kissing the back of your hand. 

You freeze, just for a second, but it’s enough to let him know he’s right. Of course he is. He’s noticed the way your gaze kept shifting all over the place, anywhere but his eyes. He’s noticed the glassiness you’ve tried to blink away, and now that you’ve closed your eyes he knows you realized it’s a pointless struggle that you can’t win.

He’s always careful and patient, and when he moves to cover your body with his and embrace you, he does so slowly and cautiously so as to avoid scaring you. He rubs your back, helps maneuver you so that you’re resting comfortably against his body. Your body shakes as you try hard to keep the tears at bay.

“You’re kind,” he says quietly, “I know you don’t think so, but you are. At least to people you like - can we agree on that without bickering?”

You nod, biting your lip to distract yourself. There are more important things right now than petty arguments. You don’t want to cry - there’s no reason to. It doesn’t make sense. You’re sure you could figure something out if you tried, some theory at least, but you don’t want to. Your social battery is drained, and maybe that’s really the core of the problem. You feel so tired even if your body isn’t.

“I’ll go change real quick and then we can watch some show, hm?” Joshua suggests, still stroking your back to calm you down, “I’ll hold you, I promise.”

“That sounds nice,” you hum, “Sorry. How was your day?”

“It just dragged on,” he sighs, “So let me cuddle you, hm? Would you be so kind?”

You shake your head with another roll of your eyes. But you’re smiling, and that’s what he wanted to see.

[chaosduckies]

Congratulations on 100 Followers!!! Big achievement!!!!

Gonna take you up on your open commissions so I’d love to see your take on a tiny being forced to ask a giant for help.

Your choice of characters but I’m a sucker for hurt comfort so go wild ❤️

Congrats again!!!

Thank you! :D

I'm sorry that this took so long to get out! I was having a minor writing slump but I'm back at it! I did have a lot of fun writing this and I hope you do to! (classic borrower asking a human for help)

Word Count: 4.2k

CW: Minor blood

Snow Fall

———Forest———

Everything was going great. I set off on my own, leaving my parents behind and starting my new life. Of course I was scared. Who wouldn’t be when you were two inches tall and leaving everyone you know and love? It was terrifying, but I had to. Borrower children, even though some were some-what good at borrowing from humans, were supposed to leave their parents as soon as they turned fourteen since it was a liability for their parents. I was just lucky and extended my stay for 3 more years. What could I say? I loved my parents just as much as they loved me, and no matter how many times my mom pleaded for me to stay, I knew I wasn’t that good at borrowing. I would eventually get us all in trouble. Which was why I decided to find a new home when I turned seventeen. It didn’t sit right with me that I was still leeching off my parents. 

Humans were scary. The horror stories, the pets, the kids. Almost everything about them scared me half to death. Just thinking about getting caught in one of those huge hands has me shuddering. I couldn’t think about myself getting caught, or what would happen to me, and to be honest, leaving my parents was the worst decision of my life. 

I wasn’t a good borrower to say in the least. I could barely hurdle over the counters without somehow hurting myself or becoming so sore the next day that I could barely move, I wasn’t the best at hiding. I had no idea how my parents did this at such a young age, but I wasn’t like them at all. How did they end up with such a failure like me? I laughed at the thought. 

My new home was nice. The human here had a schedule that I could work around. They left for work every morning, giving me plenty of time to get a little bit of food that they leave out sometimes, get some other things, and head back. They weren’t very observant of anything in particular, perfect for grabbing a few extra paperclips since my hook usually breaks from my own misuse. This house was perfect… or so I thought. 

After a while, the person stopped laying out food everywhere, they had started packing up their things in huge boxes, people in strange uniforms came by and dragged out anything heavy. I had no idea what was going on, but it wasn’t good. I stayed hidden in my home in the walls, scared of what was happening. I was too scared to go out at night and get my daily necessities, like food and water. Humans were terrifying. If I was seen by even one of them, who knows what might happen? I didn’t care if I was so hungry that my stomach was digesting itself, there was no way I was going to get caught and placed in some weird science lab. Testing me everyday, killing me slowly. I shuddered at the thought, wrapping myself in the thin cloth I managed to snag before any of this moving was happening. 

Lately the seasons have been changing, and the human that I thought was still living here hasn’t bothered to turn on the heater. This only made things a million times worse for me. I was already hungry, practically starving from not having eaten anything for the past three days, and now it was freezing cold. There was nothing I could do about it though. I was terrified. Scared. Too paranoid about what would happen if I stepped outside the comforts of my dingy home in the walls. No matter how much I wanted to go back with my parents, I couldn’t. More because I barely even remember the way back home, but also because it was already dangerous enough getting to this new home. I had no choice but to stay here in hopes that I could get over this fear of being seen and that the human had left some kind of food out. But there was no such luck. The house was empty. Furniture moved, heater off, no sign of food in the cabinets. Just nothing. My hope diminished as I sluggishly walked back home in defeat. There was no way I was going to survive. 

The human that I found so easy to maneuver around without being seen, that left food out, was now gone. Who knew when another one would just move back in? Most days I would walk around out in the open because there was nothing to do. I mean, without a human there was no chance of me surviving. I was too afraid to go outside because I knew there were animals that wouldn’t hesitate to mistake me for food. So staying inside was really my only option. Plus, it was just the slightest bit warmer here than outside. 

Sometimes I’d go sit on the windowsill, stay there for hours watching these tiny white balls fall from the sky and cover the ground. People passed by wearing thick coats that protected them from the harsh cold, and I couldn’t help but feel jealous. I looked back at the thin piece of cloth wrapped around me, barely giving any warmth while humans were able to be so warm, get food without having to worry about anyone seeing them (or in my case get food at all), heck, they weren’t even scared of anything. 

I sat alone, in a quiet house just waiting for anything to happen. I didn’t care if it was good or bad. I didn’t know how I was surviving for so long, nor how I was still moving despite searching the top shelves and countertops desperately for something. But of course it was always the same way it was. Empty. Nothing was changing, but in a bad way. 

My legs were sore from the amount of climbing I’ve done the past few days, my body was getting even weaker than it already was. I guess I really was going to starve to death, huh? All of that talking with my parents about making sure I would have enough to last me and it’s just wasted. How was I supposed to know that only a week after I found a new livable home that the human I was just barely getting used to was going to move out? Life wasn’t fair. 

Today was yet another sad, depressing day. I dragged myself along the floor, trying to at least be active while I was struggling to survive. Would another human be coming here soon? As much as they scared me and borrowers alike, most relied on them to help us survive. When they’re clumsy and forget easily, it’s easy to “borrow” a few things here and there. They leave food out or there’s an easy way to get into a cabinet, we can take a few things they wouldn’t notice. It was almost impossible to live without relying on a human in some way. Ironic how the thing I fear the most was the thing that was keeping me alive. 

I hoisted myself up onto the windowsill, breathing heavily as soon as I was safely up. I groaned in pain, wrapping up my hook and sitting by the window, once again staring at the white scenery. Other houses just across that had a slight smoke coming from the top of their house. Must be warm… I rubbed my arms, watching as a few people walked by, possibly on their way to work. I shivered, regretting not taking my “blanket.” 

Life wasn’t fair. I knew that much, but I forced myself to stay alive for whatever reason. My figure was getting slimmer from the lack of food, but I somehow kept moving. It was cold, but I gathered up any cloth I could find and wrapped myself up at night. My hook looked like it could break at any point in time, but it was hanging on just like me. If my hook did break, then there was basically no way for me to get anywhere but home and on the floor. I hoped that something would happen one day, but nothing ever did. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught something gray scurry along the floor. I stared for a couple long seconds before shrugging it off and continuing to look out the window. It was probably just my imagination. Great, now I’m hallucinating. I sighed, watching as cars carefully passed by. 

I don’t know how long I stayed on top of the windowsill, but eventually there was a change of scenery. At first I thought it was just my mind playing tricks on me, but there it was. A car parked right in front of the house, headlights turning off and revealing a human, zipping up their jacket and looking down at something and back at the front of the house. I was too caught up in my fascination to realize that I was out in the open. The human slowly started making their way up to the front door, holding something that looked silver in their hands. 

I scrambled for my hook, climbing down as fast as I could, which was very painful. At some point I lost my grip and fell, but to my luck it was only a couple feet. I hurried to my feet, pulling my hook from the ledge it was dangling from and ran as fast as I could to reach the extremely tiny hole I squeezed myself through. I took a few seconds to catch my breath before the front door opened. My eyes were wide, my heart pounding fast. Would my luck finally be turning around? 

The human was taller than the last and looked much younger. I couldn’t really get a good look at their face, but I could make out his dirty-blonde hair. I could hear my own heartbeat. Is everything going to go back to normal? Would I be able to survive on my own again? 

The human moved around the place, shivering and pressing some buttons on something. Soon enough, the house was slowly but surely being warmed up. I let out a quiet sigh of relief. It might not be much… but at least it was something. Better than the frigid cold that had been filling the house for who knows how long. 

They moved around the house, checking everything out and smiling, their eyes a nice shade of light-brown. They looked… so nice. For a split second my mind wondered what would happen if he would ever see me. Would he keep me as a pet like I’m pretty sure most humans would? Or… nothing? No, why would I even be thinking about that? He would obviously want to hurt me even more than I already was. 

My stomach rumbled quietly, I winced, but confused to watch as they came from outside and back in, carrying a few boxes, bags and a small case that had wheels on it. Was I finally… saved? If this human was moving back in then I could actually have a chance to survive? I silently cheered to myself. How long has it been? Almost a week maybe? How did I even manage to stay alive? Didn’t matter anymore I guess. 

I continued to watch the human, putting up things in the boxes, setting up a few mini tables and placing picture frames of him and, who I was guessing, his parents. Of course occasionally taking breaks for a snack or two, leaving a plastic container filled with what looked like fresh fruit and vegetables. After most of the boxes were unpacked, a few still in their bedroom, he went back outside, most likely to fetch something else from his car. He usually took a while out there… so maybe it would be enough time to go and quickly grab something to eat? No, that was too risky. What if I was wrong and he came back early? I doubt I’d have enough time to find a hiding spot while out in the open since he didn’t exactly have any furniture or anything. 

I slumped, making my way back to my bland home in the walls. I had always tried to decorate… but since there hadn’t been anyone living here for me to “borrow” a few things from, I haven’t been able to decorate. Only the small bed I made by gathering up a bunch of cloth that the human before had forgotten about. It wasn’t extremely comfy, but better than anything I could’ve asked for. Otherwise, boring room. But it’s not like I need to decorate it anyways. Surviving was my main focus right now, and now that there was someone actually living here now… maybe I’d have a chance to get back into things. 

The wait was long, hearing the human talk to someone on what I think they call a phone, hang up, set up their house again and spend most of their time gathering up all of the blankets and pillows that he had brought with him and gathering them all up in what I think was going to be his room. As comfy as it looked, I knew I couldn’t just take a couple of minutes to get somewhat comfortable. Lately every night has been spent cold, hungry, filled with false hope. If I could just take a couple minutes to have some kind of sense of safety and security, that would be great. But I haven’t been able to, and I doubt that I’d be able to even now. I never realized just how hard it is to survive. Imagine what my parents went through while taking care of me… 

I hugged my blanket close, my eyelids threatening to close at any second. I heard the sound of the door open once again, and the loud sounds of him dragging something across the floor. It was all fine for me though. My eyes shut close, I laid down, and soon enough my mind drifted off. 

——————

When my eyes opened, there was a quiet noise of people talking outside. My heart had skipped a beat, thinking that there were more humans living here. That would make it impossible for someone like me to get past without being noticed, but as I groggily stepped outside, rubbing my eyes to wipe away the sleep, I realized that it was only the tv that wasn’t there a couple hours ago. 

I looked around the dark room, seeing that there was now a singular couch in what was the living room, a tv, a table that held two more frames. How long had I been sleeping? Or better yet, just how exhausted was I? Obviously the sun had already set, so I guess it didn’t really matter. I headed back to my room, grabbed my hook, and took off, every now and then finding a hiding spot just in case the human was somewhere I couldn’t see him. 

My head turned towards a dark shadow scamper right across from me, but I didn’t pay any mind. Probably just my imagination, right? Right now I was just trying to make sure that the human was asleep right now just before I go and see if he had any food out… or at least something edible in the cabinets. 

I checked the living room first, hiding by one of the legs under the couch, peaking my head out just enough to see him having trouble keeping his eyes open. Good enough for me. I ran quietly back to the kitchen, throwing my hook as far up as I could before testing if it was safely secure. I started my trek up, my arms and legs begging in me to go back down. Despite my arms threatening to tear off from the lack of strength. I really wasn’t good at borrowing. 

As soon as I reached the top of the counter, I took a few seconds to catch my breath. Once I get used to the human’s schedule I may finally be able to get back into things. No going hungry for that long, not worrying if I’ll make it to the end of the night. as soon as he turns on the heater things would be even better… I wouldn’t be shivering at night and struggle to find something that would act as a blanket. Yet another reason to be jewels of humans. They had everything borrowers didn’t. It wasn’t at all fair, but we all knew what would happen if a human found or saw us. The thought was pure torture to even think about. Literally. 

On the counter, there really wasn’t anything for me to see except for the half-eaten sandwich just lying on the counter. I silently walked over, not really wanting to eat part of the sandwich that they had already bitten into but I had to unless I wanted him to already be suspicious when it hasn’t even been a full day. 

I started cutting off pieces, making them fit inside my bag and taking a few more unnoticeable pieces for tomorrow, learning from past mistakes. As I was cutting, I realized that there was something off. The tv was still on in the other room, I figured that the human still hadn’t left the couch either, fighting off sleep. So why did it feel so off? I treaded carefully, watching every tiny movement that caught my eye. For a moment it was so quiet that I could hear my own heart pounding in my chest, and then too quiet. 

My eyes searched around, taking my final piece into my hands since no more would fit in my bag. I might as well grab as much as I could. Better than having nothing. I let out a sigh of relief, grateful that I wasn’t dead, that I’d at least have some kind of way to survive. Out of curiosity, I took a small bite out of the sandwich, only really getting the bread part but it tasted so good. To be honest, a sandwich was a definite score for borrowers, now when you’ve been starving for days on end, it tastes amazing. 

Two glasses hit each other behind me, I turned my head seeing them spin before returning to their still pose. My eyes widened, hurrying to my hook that was still hanging off the edge of the counter. I looked back, the light making it easier to see a rat chase me down, easily twice my size. I let out a yelp as I ran through several spice glasses in hopes of losing it, only to hear them all fall onto the counter with a loud thud! That was bad for two reasons, one because not only was it making a mess and trails that I’ve been here, and two, because I knew the human would want to come and investigate what was happening. Of course being the person that I am, I would never be able to run faster than this  surprisingly malicious rat. 

I struggled to keep up my balance, eventually tripping on thin air, dropping the small piece of sandwich a few feet away from me. I quickly rolled over, my chest heaving up and down as I faced the rat not even given a second before they scratched at my shirt. I winced, holding my stomach and seeing my hand covered in some blood. My breathing was getting more heavy as I saw a silhouette by the kitchen entrance. The lights turned on, blinding the rat for just a second as I quickly stood up and kept running towards my hook, holding my stomach. I knew what was happening, and there was no way I would be found the second a new human moves in, right? I blinked back the tears building up in my eyes, tripping once again. My vision was blurry from the tears, and judging by the small squeaks from the rat I thought was a good couple feet away, that meant that the human was here. 

Forcing myself to sit up, I looked at the bowl that kept moving. The rat screeching to be released from their prison. The human placed some heavy books on top, sighing to himself as he muttered something under his breath I couldn’t catch, but I didn’t really care. I scrambled back onto my feet, trying to run yet again and slammed into something soft and squishy. I winced as I fell and soon my entire world was moving again, the soft surface now everywhere. 

It settled in my mind slowly, realizing that I was in human hands. It hurt to breathe from my new wound, but I couldn’t help it. Tears streamed down my face as I struggled to muffle the sounds of my quiet cries. 

“Oh! U-um, I didn’t mean to…” Their voice sounded quiet and worried. I just continued crying, not even caring what would happen to me. Who was I kidding? I could never have survived on my own! I should’ve known when that first human moved out. Sure it was okay at first, but obviously them moving was a sign that I wasn’t meant to be on my own. I should’ve listened to my parents and stayed with them. This would’ve never happened, I would be alive and healthy instead of on the brink of death and in Death’s hands himself. Literally. Who knows what this human would do to me? It was scary to think about. 

“P-Please don’t h-hurt me.” I mumbled most likely too quiet for his ears to hear, leaning against what I think was his thumb. He flinched slightly, but why did it feel so… comfortable? 

“Aw little guy,” He smiled softly, “I’m not going to hurt you, okay?” I leaned into the warmth from his hands, hugging what was his thumb closely, still crying to myself. What else was I supposed to do? Of course I was scared but… I also just wanted someone to hold me. Right now I didn’t care that it was a human and I’d face my consequences later, I just wanted to be promised that I wouldn’t have to try so hard anymore. That I could just live without thinking about what I could manage to get for dinner. 

“You were just… hungry?” He asked as I picked my head up, seeing him looking straight at the piece I had dropped on the counter. I shakily nodded my head, hoping he would see. For now, I would just hide my fear. Right now this human was giving me everything I’ve wanted this past week. Comfort, warmth. Heck, I’m even crying in front of him. How embarrassing was that and he still hasn’t said or asked me anything. 

“Hm, here little guy.” He tried tilting me back onto the counter, but I grabbed onto his sleeve and hung on tighter. I didn’t want to be let go already. I know humans are bad and I’d face the consequences eventually, but right now I’d like to think that not all of them were as horrifying as the stories make them out to be. 

He softly laughed, cupping both hands around me again. I sniffled, “C-could you… h-help me? P-please.” I tried wiping away my tears, but they just kept coming. My eyes felt red and puffy, my legs felt like jello, heart racing. I was a mixture of emotions. Terrified, filled with hope, and most of all grateful that this human hadn’t decided to hurt me yet. 

The human studied me, worried. I stood still for a moment, hoping I would get my answer. It seemed ridiculous to be asking a human this. One that probably had no idea that they had saved me in the first place. My heart thumped in my chest, waiting in the eerie silence, awaiting my answer. My stomach still burnt from the deep gash, but I've had to go through worse. There was still some blood that was getting on the humans’ shirt sleeve, but that was the least of my worries. 

I felt something rub against my back, making me flinch, but lean into the gentle touch. Some part of me knew that this was wrong. Everything about this was wrong. I was sitting in a humans’ hand, talking to one, being seen by one. And for some reason, it all felt right. Everything felt right. That this was meant to happen. That it was alright for me to be vulnerable to this human. 

They started moving their hand as I continued to cry, pressing my face into the fabric of his shirt. When I opened my eyes, I found myself in a makeshift hug. I could hear his heartbeat in the background beating rhythmically, the slight rise and fall of his chest with every slow breath he took. I sniffled, shocked from the gesture but otherwise grateful. I wasn’t going to die. I was alive. I felt safe. There was no more suffering, no more false hope, no more anything. I would be fine. I smiled to myself, trying to wipe away the tears trailing down my face. 

I guess sometimes it’s okay to ask for help. 

——————

I hope you enjoyed! I don't know how to feel about this myself, but I think it's alright! Again, I had a lot of fun writing and thank you for the prompt!

Slowly getting out of my writing slump, hopefully get these prompts done plus something reallyyyy exciting (well at least it is to me)

Thank you for reading! :D

Taglist: @da3dm

[calliecwrites]

Breakthrough

In the morning, everyone in my building is dead.

It takes me a while to notice. I live alone, and don’t see my neighbours often. But there are always little noises through the walls – doors closing, toilets flushing, voices – and now there aren’t any. By lunchtime, the shutters are still all closed. I knock on the doors, get no response, and call the police.

My neighbours have all died in their sleep.

Now I’m at the police station, waiting to be seen. My friend Ellen sits with me, holding my hand. As the only survivor, the police want to know if I heard or saw anything. Maybe I’m even a suspect. But they’re still rushing around, bringing in the bodies, contacting the families, doing autopsies – it could be a while before they’re ready for me.

And yet: I’m happy. I feel great. And my mind is going a hundred miles an hour because this is absolutely not how I should be feeling right now.

Ellen can tell something’s up. She always can. Well of course something’s up – we’re sitting in a police station and all my neighbours are dead. But there’s more than that, and she sees it. What do I tell her?

She leans in close. “What is it?”

“I dreamt I ate their souls,” I say eventually, and glance at her. We talk about my dreams all the time, and have a good laugh at how weird they are. But this time, she’s looking at me like, you want to talk about dreams, now?

“Were you lucid?” she says eventually. I nod.

“Because it’s Halloween,” I say, as if that explains it. “I wanted to do something spooky. For fun.” So I’d thought, let’s try eating souls. It’s all just pretend, of course, it’s all just a game in my head – but it’s in all the stories, so why not? All kinds of monsters and demons eat them, but what’s that like? What do they taste like? I’d always wondered. I thought it would be fun to see what my dreams came up with. Something surprising, for sure, something we could laugh about afterwards – but when I’d summoned some characters in the dream, it was my neighbours who’d turned up, and that made me pause. I don’t ever dream about them. But I’d gone through with it anyway – I’d phased my hands into their chests, pulled out the glowing masses of their souls, and slurped them down. I can’t even begin to describe the taste.

And in the morning, my neighbours were all dead.

I do weird stuff like this in my dreams all the time. That’s half the fun of being a lucid dreamer, right? I can do anything I like in there – or, well, anything I can persuade the dream to let me do; I’m not good enough yet to do anything anything – but I’m getting there. I can try out powers I’ve seen in films, play a part in stories I like, fight monsters, destroy planets – and all with zero consequences, because:

“And, what, you think you actually ate their souls? It’s a dream, Sue, it’s not real. You tell me that all the time.”

I nod. “Then how am I still alive? If it was something in the water, or a gas leak, or I don’t know – I’d be dead too. How can I be the only one still alive?”

“Maybe it was something they all ate?” she says.

“And this morning,” I go on, “I felt great, like really great. Full of energy, full of ideas – like I could do anything. I still do. Even here.” In fact I’ve been trying to stop myself grinning the whole time. This is not the place for that.

Ellen gives me a long, hard look, and squeezes my hand. “Stop tormenting yourself. Survivors’ guilt is a thing, you know that. You didn’t eat their souls. You don’t even believe in souls.”

I nod again. She’s right, of course.

A policewoman comes over. She’s wearing a black coat.

“Ms Tanner?” she says. “Come with me, please.”

Ellen gives me another look, gentler this time, and then we’re apart. The policewoman takes me to the far corner of the room.

“That was quite a feast you had,” she says.

This is so not what I’m expecting, it takes me a moment to respond.

“You mean my dreams? Did you hear us?”

She gives me a grim smile. “No – but you dream so loudly, half the city would know if I wasn’t shielding you.”

“Is this a joke?” I say. That conversation was between me and Ellen! “What’s this got to do with anything?”

“Everything,” she says. “There’s power in your dreams.”

“Look, I know I’m weird,” I say, “but… it’s just lucid dreaming. It’s all in my head.”

“For most people that’s true. But you aren’t most people, are you? You’ve made quite the mess. We knew you’d break through on your own sooner or later, but we didn’t expect it to happen like this…”

But I’m not listening. The people around me have caught my attention. There’s something moving inside them. I can’t see it, but I can tell it’s there. When I focus, it starts moving towards me—

She snaps her fingers in my face. “Stop that! What, do you want to kill everyone here, too?” She glares, and almost to herself, “You’ve broken through hard if you can already do that awake.”

I stare at her, and at the people. “Were those souls?” She nods. “But I don’t even believe in souls,” I say, weakly, while in my head is: oh shit. Worse, knowing they’re there is making me hungry. Susan Tanner, devourer of souls – that has quite the ring to it.

But I glance around, and say, quietly, “You’re saying I did kill them? What if someone hears—”

She shakes her head. “No one will. I’m taking care of that.”

No one is looking at us. In fact, no one has looked our way the whole time, like they’ve forgotten we’re even here.

“You’ve broken through the barriers,” she says. “Everything you can do in the dream, you’ll eventually be able to do out here – and you’re nowhere near your full potential, even in the dream.”

I’m still at: I killed them? Eventually I catch up. “That’s impossible,” I say. All of this is impossible. Those can’t have been souls, I just imagined it. But I can still feel them there, and if I just focus—

“Hey, stay with me,” she says. Oh. Right. “You don’t believe me? Change something.”

“What?”

“Change something, like you would in the dream.”

I stare at her black coat, and will it to be green – and it is. For a moment I wonder if I’m still dreaming. I do half a dozen reality checks, and they all fail. Which means either I’m still in the dream, and my mind is really messing with me – or I’m awake. Something people often don’t understand about learning to lucid dream is that the whole practice is based on being able to tell dreams from reality. We get really good at telling which state we’re in. And everything here is telling me this is not a dream.

I still feel completely, unreasonably great, despite everything, even though she’s just told me I’m, what? A murderer? Or at the very least, that I killed a bunch of people by accident.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” she says. “Soul euphoria’s quite the thing. There’s nothing quite like digesting the essence of another person to cheer you up. Just don’t go making a habit of it, OK?”

Has she just read my mind?

“I’ve been reading your mind for years, Ms Tanner, watching you learn in your dreams. It’s lucky I found you first – you’d have made a tasty morsel for someone, with potential like that.”

I flip the colour of the lights on the roof from white to red to blue. I make a potted plant on the other side of the room rise a few centimetres off the ground. It’s easy. Telekinesis, too? Shit. That grin has broken through, now, and I can’t help it.

“You’re not with the police, are you?” I say at last.

“Smart one.”

“So what happens now?”

“You come with me,” she says. “It’s time for your training to really begin.”

“But what about the police? The… deaths? What about Ellen?”

“Don’t worry,” she says, “I’ve taken care of that. They won’t remember you were ever here.”

There’s something in the way she says it: she doesn’t mean here, in the police station, she means here, at all. That I ever existed. I glance at Ellen. This woman has just taken away my best friend. She’s taken away my whole life. But because of those souls I ate, I still feel totally, overwhelmingly great. I can’t wipe the smile off my face. Turns out you can feel wonderful and horrified at the same time – but the horror is such a small part of it that I can’t keep my mind on it for long. I just feel too damn good.

How long will this euphoria last? And how hard will I crash when it goes away?

But I can’t think about that now – literally can’t, my soul-drunk emotions are too overpowering – can’t think about what I’ve lost, or the implications of what I’ve done. All I can think about is power, and dreams, and adventure. So when she gestures and opens a portal, I grin harder, and don’t look back, and follow her through.

Tag list (tell me if you want to be added):

@avery-victoria-winterlight @dierotenixe @leahnardo-da-veggie @lunadook @mint-and-authoress

@sandyca5tle @scrubbinn @theriomythic-lesbian @void-botanist @wuwojiti

@zzzestyy

[fortunatelyseveredreamland]

What a week…

It’s so weird to be back here. I am sad I deleted my blog so many years ago and forgot what it was even called. I knew I’d come back eventually if something big were to happen. Never thought this exact thing would be the reason.

I was at work on Wednesday when I found out. My hands immediately shook and my heart sank. I couldn’t wait to leave to get home and be able to know more and mourn. As soon as I got in the car, I started crying.

It’d been such a long time since 1D took up this much space in my brain. It feels like a lifetime ago, sitting on tumblr from night to morning. Rewatching the video diaries and music videos millions of times. Making my friends and followers one shots and photoshopped texts. Plastering my entire room with posters from every magazine I could find. But somehow, it also feels like yesterday?

It felt weird to have my mind immediately transport back to being in my room and only caring about the boys. Sleepovers with my bestie revolving around their music.

I don’t think I have ever loved something as much as I love One Direction. The feeling of hanging out with you all and loving the boys so very much. I wish I could feel that way right now without the overwhelming amount of guilt.

I had to come back here with a brand new account and feel this community’s embrace again. The only people that will ever truly understand this feeling. And I’m so glad I did. While everyone is speaking how they feel, they are also sharing old posts, and funny ones. Ones that make all of the good memories come rushing back like a rough river. It’s like I never left. And in some way, I don’t think I ever truly did. I left my heart on this website and in One Direction and now I feel like there is a part of my soul that is never coming back. But maybe in due time, he can live in that void for the rest of time.

I have seen a lot of posts about inner child. But to be honest, I don’t think my inner child is crying. My full adult self is crying. The part of me that would spend all of my life savings on a ticket to an ot5 reunion. The little girl inside of me left long ago, but the adult 27 year old woman who has nothing to look forward to now feels like she’s actively dying inside. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. They were supposed to live until they were 90. It’s just unfair and too soon.

I’d like to say that I hope all of you are doing well. This is the first day since the news that I haven’t been a full puddle of tears, but I also keep waking up and hoping this is a nightmare. I took a shower and blasted take me home. I cried a little bit it was cathartic. It made me feel that all of those memories are worth so much to not only me but to the boys and their families.

I’d like to round this off with my letter to Liam.

Hey Leeyum,

I miss you like crazy already. Which pains me to say because I could’ve been a more active fan for you in the last few years. I knew what had been happening, but always felt like you were going to come out on the other side, stronger. I wish we all could’ve saved you.

Thank you for being you. Thank you for writing songs that helped me through my teenage and early adult years. They still do. Thank you for making us laugh. Thank you for making us proud. I know you wouldn’t want us to wallow in sadness for you. You’d want us to talk about the memories.

The boys love you so much and I hope you knew that. There was no One Direction without you. You were the glue that held it all together. You deserved more public love than you were ever given. I just hope you know how much the 1D family cares and loves you.

I’m so sorry this was the way your story ended. You deserved so much more than life gave you. I will love you until the end of time, sweet boy. <3

I love you all. Please take care of yourselves. I plan on sticking around a while. Hope to see more names that I recognize on my feed.

[peaches2217]

Regarding a Certain Panda's Nightmares

AO3 Link!

~~~

“I just… I keep having these nightmares, y’know? Real stupid stuff.” Po scoffed and tried to pass it off as a laugh, as if that alone could convince Tigress — maybe himself, too — that those dreams were as meaningless as he wished they were. “It’s always the same. Like… it’s snowing, but there’s fire everywhere, and I hear screaming all over the place, but I feel fine. I’m not cold if I touch the snow and I don’t burn if I touch the fire.”

The smile he gave Tigress was empty, and his eyes, though glancing between the cabinets, the table, and her, were somewhere on the other side of China.

A part of him truly did die there, she found herself thinking, though she forced the thought from her head at once. 

“That’s, uh, that’s usually all there is to it.” Po propped an elbow on the table in the unlit kitchen and rested his cheek on his fist, looking over Tigress’ shoulder at an ever-darkening nothing. “Sometimes it ends pretty quickly. Sometimes I see bodies and, uh, blood ‘n’ stuff. And sometimes I just hear the screaming, and then eventually I don’t hear anything anymore.” He shrugged. “But tonight’s the first time I actually…”

He swallowed heavily and tried half-heartedly to hide it behind his cup of tea. It was still full, but it had long since gone cold.

Tigress glanced down at his paw as he set it back on the table. His claws had grown out. Nothing drastic, and nowhere near as sharp as hers, but the usually blunted tips were reaching a point. He used the tip of his index claw to trace meaningless patterns into the birch.

“She, uh… she recognized me. Called me her little lotus flower. Said I’d gotten so big. But it was like, right in the middle of the, uh… the attack. So that was weird.”

Po looked down at his teacup, maybe observing his reflection in the cooled liquid. He looked so tired. Not the kind of tired brought about by a single sleepless night; no, this was just one of many in the past three weeks. 

“Tried telling her to run. Tried getting her to run with me, y’know, but… she said that, uh, well, my story didn’t have a happy beginning, but she was… uh, she was happy with the way hers ended. Told me she was proud of me. Then I woke up.” He blinked a few times, then his shoulders lifted, like his departed soul was returning to his body. “Just a real stupid dream, y’know? Borderline wish fulfillment. I mean, who would say something like that, right? I know she wouldn’t say that.”

“Do you?”

“I don’t know, but like… how do you die and then say you’re okay with it? I wouldn’t be okay with dying like that, especially if it was because…"

And his eyes grew glossy again, going someplace that Tigress, try though she might, couldn’t reach.

“Y’know, I-I don’t know how many… I mean, dozens? Hundreds, thousands? However many, it’s too many. And they’re all, uh, they’re all dead.” Po smacked his lips and shrugged again. “Because of me.”

“Po. You were a child. Nothing you could have done would have stopped it.” 

Tigress kept her voice low, in part to ensure she didn’t wake their teammates sleeping just a few rooms over, and in part so that he didn’t startle and back down. Any semblance of judgment or any suggestion that he had upset her with his words, and Po would apologize and thank her for listening and go back to his room to feign sleep until the morning gong rung. 

For someone so hell-bent on being open and friendly with everyone he met, he was fiercely self-reliant. That much they at least had in common.

“Well,” and Po smiled ruefully as he spoke, “maybe if I was never born…”

Tigress bit her tongue so sharply she tasted blood, because that was all she could do to keep from shutting him down. No, scolding him for such harmful thoughts would get them nowhere, not yet, not right now. “You think things might be different then?” she ventured instead.

“Can’t wipe out all the pandas if you never get told a panda’s gonna kick your butt one day. And that can’t happen if the panda who’s supposed to kick your butt doesn’t exist.”

Tigress averted her gaze to the tabletop as well, breathing as deeply and steadily as her cracked ribs would allow. Though Po had always, to some extent, carried feelings of resentment towards himself, they had never run this deep.

Or if they had, he’d simply never told her. Tigress preferred to think the former was the truth.

“Fate works in odd ways,” she said at last, slowly, thinking and then re-thinking each word before they left her mouth. “We can’t stop it, and we can’t control it. I’m inclined to believe that your absence wouldn’t have changed anything.”

For a moment, Po didn’t respond, just kept staring blankly at the table. Were it not for the minute shifting of his eyes, Tigress would have thought he hadn’t heard her.

“...you think?” Something in the way he asked it, maybe the way his voice fluttered or his brows lifted and scrunched, suggested that he was really considering her words. That was a good sign, at least.

“If it wasn’t you, it would have been someone else.”

“But it wouldn’t have been me.”

“People would still be dead, but the Valley wouldn’t have its Dragon Warrior. That would just ensure even more deaths.”

“Maybe the other panda woulda been the Dragon Warrior. Beat Tai Lung, brought peace, kept everyone safe.”

“But we’ll never know, will we? Because you were born, and this life is yours alone.” 

At that, Po nodded, though his face betrayed his despondency. 

I wouldn’t be okay with dying like that, he’d said only minutes earlier. But Tigress knew better. If given no other option, he’d happily die to protect others, especially the ones he held dear.

A tickle in the back of her throat made her cough, lightly, but enough to send a sharp pain through her chest.

A death wish in exchange for the safety and happiness of their loved ones. That was something else they had in common, for sure.

“For what it’s worth…” Tigress mulled over her thoughts for a brief moment. Would someone just like him have come along had he never entered the world? Perhaps. Perhaps the days at the Jade Palace would still be made lighter, and perhaps the meals they shared would still be just as flavorful, and perhaps she would still have found comfort and joy when she had long since given up on such things being part of her life.

But it would still be a world without Po. And such a world was a world Tigress didn’t want to think about, much less be a part of.

“I’m glad that you were born,” was what she finally decided on. “And I know for a fact I’m only one of many who feels that way.”

Po smiled down at his paws. It was small, barely enough to be called a smile, really. But it was warm, genuine, almost alien yet achingly familiar.

“I’m… I’m glad you were born too.”

At that, Tigress smiled in turn.

They didn’t really say much after that. They sat in shared silence until the darkness lightened with the impending dawn, at which point Tigress suggested they at least try to rest, if only for an hour or so. And though these all-nighters had become routine over the past weeks, when Po bid Tigress a good night (“Er, uh— good morning, early morning, I guess”) and ducked his head in thanks, she noticed he looked less tired than he had since they’d returned to the Valley.

It wasn’t some miraculous recovery. But little by little, her best friend was returning.

The thought dulled the pain of her broken bones and quieted her racing thoughts, and it made an hour of sleep feel like a slow and blissful eternity.

[annabelle--cane]

Sorry if this is weird but I’m working on this book that feels like my first substantial foray into literature, and I’m really proud of it. But it’s also a lot of work and my life is…life, so I get into motivational slumps a lot.

Lately I’ve been like “But think of the random thoughtful tumblr posts (by people like you) where they realize something I was trying to say, or reveal some new way to read the text entirely!” and it gets me through the slumps.

If you published a work with a lot of hidden messages and metaphors, would you want to tell people what you meant? Would you correct people if they got it wrong?

I used to think I would tell everyone EXACTLY what things meant. It has always been frustrating to me when authors are vague as hell about their meanings behind things. But now writing this story, I kinda want to see how much people catch on to. If I write it well enough, they’ll get all the main ones. But maybe some of them will only get one or two! And there’s like a puzzle network of understanding in your audience!

I think I’d correct them if their interpretations were somehow harmful, but that would also mostly be about figuring out how those messages came out of the text so it doesn’t happen again.

saur. my answer to these questions are layered, and I'm going to answer them kind of out of order.

as an audience member, about 70% of the time I really enjoy hearing what authors have to say about their work. it can often point me to areas of consideration that I hadn't really been focusing on before, and creators usually care a lot about their text and have paid great attention to it and so their opinions are often well-informed and consider all angles. and then that other 30% of the time I hear what an author has to say about their work and it's like we're discussing completely different things, and I'm sure they meant to write their work to come off a certain way, but something appears to have gotten hideously lost in translation because that is Not what I read. and I sit there like 😬 you don't know him (this story you wrote) like I do 😬 .

as an english lit student, I could not care less what authors have to say about their work. the text is the text, the book is in my hand, and sure, I might look into what commentary an author has made, but that is ultimately superfluous to my analysis and I'll treat it with exactly the same weight as any other interpretation I come across. if I can back up my argument with evidence and criticism then no one can tell me I'm wrong, including the author. overall I don't think someone can actually be "wrong" about their interpretation of an art work as long as they have sufficient supporting evidence. if a meaning has been successfully put into the text then it's there and I will be able to find it, and if it hasn't then no amount of creator commentary will insert it post hoc.

as a creative writer, this is one of the main things that I think peer review and workshopping is really useful for. as a little story time, I took a creative writing class last year and submitted a piece for workshop that I thought was truly just an embarrassingly unsubtle fairytale-esque allegory for addiction, where the protagonist is in a toxic but thrilling relationship with a tricksy fairy named poppy who will bring them to intoxicating magical ballrooms out in the woods, but only at the cost of all their human relationships and, eventually, their own physical wellbeing. only one person in the class got the metaphor, and this told me that a) wow my experiences are not universal, and b) during revisions I should focus on making the story substantial enough on its own that readers can enjoy it even if they don't twig anything about the fairy literally being named poppy.

a lot of other people in that class got feedback on their work about interpretations they didn't intend, and depending on how wildly a reading varied from their intention they would then try and remove whatever made that reading possible in subsequent edits and emphasize what they actually meant. of course, you can't write for your hypothetical worst audience who will actively disinterpret your work as much as possible, but if you've got a workshop group or just a few friends that you think are reasonable readers then I'd recommend sharing what you've got with them and hearing what they're getting from it.

as a person in fandom, oh my god do I not want to touch anything with a ten foot pole if the author goes around correcting audience interpretation, because that makes for an absolutely insufferable fan environment. even when authors are aware of fan culture and try to phrase their gripes with their work's reception as inoffensively as possible, it can still shut down a lot of creative spirit and galvanize fandom hall monitors into taking matters into their own hands. and most authors aren't even that nice about it.

to sum up what I would do (might eventually do? depending on how my life works out?) were I to publish something for wide release, I think I would want to do fairly regular peer review to double check that what I'm writing isn't completely out of alignment with what I want it to be, and I'd probably write some of my own interpretation of my work but keep it out of the way enough that it's clearly not meant to be taken as part of the work itself, and be very clear that my relation and reaction to the text is based on my own mind and life experiences and may not line up with others', and that's fine.

[surachibee]

if you’ve been following a lot of my recent stuff, you’ve probably noticed (or maybe you haven’t, idk!) that I’ve been tagging a few art posts as ‘pitverse’. You’ve also probably noticed that I’ve provided no context to these posts what-so-ever! and that sucks! So to explain a bit, I present:

”surachi what the heck is pitverse”

Okay, first. ‘Pitverse’ is a working title. Maybe. It’s cheesy, but I kinda like it because it’s cheesy.

Anyways, if you’ve been following me for a while, you may or may not remember this art where I designed a bunch of pits that were loosely based on the different ending to the original Kid Icarus on the NES. Some took influence from different places (eg. the solider ending heavily drawing inspiration from Kid Icarus: of Myths and Monsters) and some were completely made up (eg. the farm ending’s design). It was fun! And it pretty much started this whole idea to begin with.

I’d draw some stuff here and there for it, but other than that I never really did much with the idea other than ‘oh hey look designs’. That is until it came up again a couple years later when I started to get *really* into oMaM stuff, which led to me coming back to the idea of a weird multiverse thing.

Thanks to a few friends, we talked about it and eventually it became like a four-swords adventure multiverse labyrinth thing. Pandora’s Labyrinth times twelve. So as it is right now, it’s like a hypothetical game where some new *evil big bad* takes a handful of Pits from different universes/timelines and plops them into some pocket dimension of different levels and challenges, and together, they have to find out what the heck going on.

Right now, I think I’m gonna try to keep it to three Pits for simplicity sake. Obviously, Pit from Kid Icarus: Uprising has to be here, that’s our guy. He’s also the protagonist! He’s left relatively unchanged in this AU. This also takes place in a post-game setting, so he’s already fought Hades. This applies to the other guys as well, even if their hypothetical “games” and adventures aren’t actually real (Factor) or heavily rewritten (Myth) here.

Good news is that Uprising Pit can still communicate with Palutena! But he’s the only one out of the bunch that can. (Would’nt that have been nice? Imagine all the work you could get done with THREE Palutenas [haha reference]). In this AU’s logic, Uprising’s world in the pocket-dimension what-ch-ma-have-it space is closer to the one where this takes place, so (Uprising) Palutena is able to establish a decent enough connection to at least communicate, though it’s not the best. The other Pit’s worlds are further away, so communication with their respective realms are off the table. This also causes other problems like occasionally “bugging out” and forgetting stuff since they’re so far from their original worlds. So Uprising Pit got kinda lucky.

Speaking of other Pits, there’s other Pits! Both of them draw inspiration from things previously done/involved in the franchise so they’re not entirely made up, but they do stray pretty far from their source material. Anyway..first, we have Factor! He’s heavily inspired by Factor 5’s rendition of Pit from their “Icarus” project back in 2007-2008 that was turned down. Here, this AU’s interpretation of the idea is a little more in line with the franchise’s overall light-hearted and goofy nature. (In this AU the Pit’s are taken from different points in time, so he would’ve been plucked from the future. I did this so 1. They all could look visually distinct from each other, and 2. the thought of Factor going “oh he doesn’t know about [x] yet” or Uprising Pit insisting Myth to NOT go after the wish seed in the future was funny.)

Next…there’s Myth! He’s based on Kid Icarus: of Myths and Monsters, and besides a few plot points he’s pretty much just a modern take on the character. He was easier to pin down because while the concept of Factor’s story was interesting, being banished from the heavens for some unspecified crime, it’s pretty vague in comparison. With Myth, there’s an entire game with a plot to go off of, even if this AU strays a bit from it.

That’s pretty much the basics of this AU! Just a couple of Pits going on an adventure getting into other-worldly shenanigans. I’m having a ton of fun with it and hopefully I can develop the idea more as I go along. Thanks for reading! There’s some extra footnotes and miscellaneous doodles below.

• This AU follows the idea that oMaM takes place in a different timeline than Kid Icarus: Uprising, hence it not being referenced (at least not on purpose, I’m looking at you aurum track accidentally having the same intro motif) or mentioned. Plus y’know, Sakurai not knowing it existed so there’s that. Might as well rework it into a weird explanation. (coping)

• All of these worlds take place in different timelines, so Factor isn’t an older version of Uprising Pit, nor is Uprising an older version of Myth. They’re all still Pit, and all of them have fought Medusa, but it had different outcomes (somewhat based on the endings) and at that point they diverged from each other. • I’ll probably change the naming of the Pits at some point. While they’re good right now, I’m not sure if I wanna keep Factor named after a company. Might have their names based off the titles of their respective games, so instead of “Factor”, “Myth”, and “Uprising” it’d be “Icarus” (based on the project’s internal name), “Myth”, and “Uprising”.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for being petty with my friend and not telling her what’s on our quiz tomorrow? 💐

Obviously by the time this will be posted it will have been a While but I figured I’d ask anyway.

I (17X) eat lunch with two friends every day. Let’s call them Jane (17F) and Tina (16F). For the past few months, I’ve been getting increasingly annoyed with Jane over inconsequential things. I don’t genuinely know if these things are actually as bad as I see them because I already know I struggle with jealousy and extreme FOMO, so my judgement is clouded. It doesn’t help that I have trouble making friends, constantly feel isolated, and I only really have these two people that I sit with every day.

One of Jane’s friends Chloe has been sitting with us at lunch because of some drama that Jane didn’t share with us (valid, it’s not my business), and all they do is talk to each other. If someone’s telling the group (we used to be a group of 4+Chloe, doesn’t really matter what happened) a story from the day, the two will continue talking to each other and not listen. Chloe also never engages with us, and if I ever try to contribute to their conversation or even just start one/ask her a question she’s always lowkey weird about it. She’ll answer my question but then want to stop talking to me immediately. Also this is probably a me-problem, but I have literally never seen Jane as happy to see me as she is to see Chloe, and it bothers me a lot, especially since we’ve been friends way longer and she’s never acted that way towards me.

Lately, Jane will just bring her other friends by to sit with us, either for a few minutes or all of lunch, (valid, I don’t mind, especially as sometimes one of my friends will pop by and say hi so it’s be hypocritical of me) and then doesn’t even introduce us to each other (not valid), and then Tina and I just have to sit there awkwardly while they all talk and laugh with each other. Meanwhile I don’t even know these girls’ names. They don’t even like to acknowledge that we exist. They all just kind of sit off into their own little group as part of our big group and Tina and I just stare at each other or hold our own quiet conversations. Once, I mentioned something Tina and I joked about when Jane was in conversation with Chloe, and when Jane said “yeah I heard you guys say that” and I straight up said “oh I didn’t even know you were listening” and Jane got quiet. The only time it feels like Jane and I are normal again is when we’re in our one shared class, but schedules just changed and we’re not together anymore.

That was all prologue, sorry about that, but I needed to be able to explain my annoyance towards Jane for my actions to make sense. Last week, Jane was super busy during lunch all week and didn’t sit with us/didn’t even get a chance to eat once. Understandable I guess but she also never once communicated this to us. Ever. Presumably she told Chloe because Chloe doesn’t sit with us when Jane isn’t there. So that ticked me off a little, but I was able to recognize that I was being irrational and so I was just stewing under the surface. Today she sat with us for the first time in a while but she could not be bothered to engage with us. Tina asked her a direct question twice and she just didn’t respond because she was too absorbed in her phone or just like staring off into space(?) (not sure). I was telling a story and she was literally listening to a video or a voice memo or something with her phone up to her ear and I trailed off before accepting that she didn’t GAF. Tina and I stared at each other with big eyes like ‘is she fr?’ Eventually I just stopped engaging with her and we just chilled in silence.

Here’s the part where I’m not sure if I’m the asshole or not. All 3 of us are in calculus, but different class periods. During my calc, Jane texted me, asking me to let her know if the teacher said anything about what’s on tomorrow’s quiz. I was pissed. Here she was, unable to speak to me during lunch, unable to say “I’m super busy this week so I won’t be around,” suddenly interested in talking to me. To ask about the calc quiz. I wasn’t even planning on asking the teacher, but I said fuck it. I asked the teacher what was on the quiz… and then never texted her back. It’s been 9 hours now and I’ve just left her on delivered. I don’t plan on telling her what’s on the quiz. I plan on telling her that he never said anything to the class (true) or that I didn’t see her text in time (false). This doesn’t hurt her chances on the quiz in any way btw.

I’m just wondering if it’s assholish to find out when I didn’t even care and then keep it from her when she’s the one who wanted to know. Low stakes and stuff but I’ve just been wondering all day now.

What are these acronyms?

[existslikepristin]

Hey so I have some stuff coming up this weekend again, so the part after this one will likely be maybe Tuesday of next week? I'm not going to commit to a schedule because duh, but Tuesday seems good. For that reason, the poll is going to run for a week, but I will start writing based on the results as of Monday evening. Tumblr only has 1 day and 1 week poll time limits *eyeroll*

Tags: NSFW, S.M.U.T., genie, anal

(Story Index)

Pull out all the stops

“Yup,” you say without hesitation, “That’ll be what we go with.” Your fingers get around the flared base of the plug before you even realize you’re reaching for it.

“Oh please be careful, master! I’m a virg—” Joy snorts and chuckles, “Sorry, can’t say that with a straight face.”

This plug is harder to pull than one in the hospital. It’s like Joy is squeezing around it, doing her best not to let go. But eventually you manage the slightest movement. Behind the plug’s base, you see what seems to be an entirely normal asshole (or at least a normal one with a large size sex toy lodged in it). Your excitement grows as it widens, spreading at the insistence of the tool in your hand.

Further…

Further…!

Further!

And then suddenly, all resistance gives way, and the plug comes out with a comical pop. You can now confirm that she does have a very normal, human-looking asshole (or at least a normal one that’s a little gaped, a little lubricated, and spotlessly clean). Joy twitches and moans, at which you raise an eyebrow.

“You sure that was just a psychic thing?” you ask.

Joy groans, reaching back and rubbing a fingertip around her rim. It’s at that moment that you again notice her lack of vagina underneath. Still kinda weird.

“I said I didn’t get any sexual pleasure,” Joy says with a somewhat dreamy quality to her voice compared to before, “from touching where a human’s pussy would be. My ass, on the other hand, is quite functional from a physical sensation perspective, so I’d appreciate you putting something inside.”

This all seems very logical to you. No need for questions. You line yourself up and push.

Your entry into Joy’s ass is easy like Sunday morning. There’s some pressure against you, but only just enough for you to notice. The rest is just a pleasant grip. One fluid motion is all it takes for you to be pressing your hips into Joy’s cashmere-soft buttcheeks. They’re propped upward as her back is arched down. It feels like she’s in control of all of her muscles, because a fine squeeze seems to ripple up and down your whole length. You and Joy groan in unison.

“Oh fuck, master, that’s so good!” Joy drops her elbows onto the table and places her head in her hands. 

"Do you want to like, call me by my name?"

"I literally cannot."

You shrug and get back to what you voted for. The out stroke is just as eye-flutteringly luxurious as the in. Joy’s not trying to keep you inside, but she’s letting you out with a firm but gentle hold. Her back lifts and holds until you stop moving, and, as soon as you start forward again, dips again into the porn star arch.

On and on this continues for a word count more appropriate for a smutty novella than a brief continuation of a serialized fanfiction. Your stamina is rather shocking, actually, and you would wonder about the number of times the planet rotated on its axis if you weren’t more concerned with the primordial magic of Joy’s asshole consuming your perception of time, place, and sensation. 

Nevertheless, your orgasm creeps up on you. Something must signal that to Joy, because she pauses her sensual vocalizations long enough to look back over her shoulder and give you some seriously tempting-ass bedroom eyes, which seem to get across the silent “pick a place to cum” sentence.

Options:

You’re already in the best place. Cum in her ass.

But like, you want to see your cum ON her ass (and a little on her back).

Cum on the blank space normally occupied by pussy… weird.

Nay, most fitting of a mystical slave would be a facial!

Or in her mouth! Swallowing shows devotion or whatever, probably.