#I’m a firm believer that Pearls is shredded

[some-zer0]

An older Pearls! It was a lot of fun thinking about how to show family resemblance — the earrings and bangs are from Mia’s design, the pose is one of Maya’s, the pants are a nod to Iris, the nails I thought of as being Trucy’s influence, and the butterfly loops/dress are a bit of Dahlia. I’m not sure how married to this design I am, but anything’s better than what canon went with…

[wordynerdygurl]

A Wonderful Christmastime

Author’s Note:  Well Hello All!  I hope that you’re all taking care of yourselves and staying well!  My tag-list is open and you know I love the validation of reblogs, shares, tags and adds!! I have been working on a larger OC story which has kept my from my Loki writings, but I entered a challenge posted by @toomanystoriessolittletime​ for the Christmas holiday.  If you aren’t following, please do as she’s got a great little Advent Calendar of seasonal stories for you!  One a day through the month of December!  

I chose a prompt based off of my least favorite Christmas song.  Ever.  Like in the history of humanity.  Like, my family torture me with it because of how much I dislike it.  This story is a chance to take a little lighthearted revenge on Sir Paul McCartney and also, hopefully, help you all enjoy a Wonderful Christmastime!   Also, isn’t this gif the cutest thing in the world?  My thanks to the OP and creator for it... it’s amazing and I love Christmas Loki!! Pairing:  Female Reader x Loki

Summary:  Everyone has a favorite holiday song... when Loki learns which one you dislike, he uses it to his advantage. Warnings:  Christmas holiday mentions, SMUT, Oral (F receiving) and MF Sex, also, the over use of a certain song that makes me, personally, crazy!

This was it.  That perfect moment when all of the holiday hustle was behind you.  Nothing to buy, nothing to ship, nothing to wrap, nothing to bake.  It was all over.  You had made it through another Christmas Eve.

Your well decorated tree sat in the corner, presents tucked below for you and Loki in the morning.  The frittata was resting in the fridge along with the two bottles of Prosecco you planned to have with brunch.  Hell, it was the holidays, after all.

But that was for tomorrow.

Tonight you were relaxing after an afternoon of family Christmas fun.  Nieces and nephews, piles of shredded paper, stacks of snacks and so much laughter your belly muscles were sore.  And through it all Loki had been a champ! Holding your hand, rubbing the small of your back, pulling out your chair; Loki had put the other partners to shame.  Whether he was telling bawdy but tasteful jokes to the men who drank cheap beer around the TV, sharing hair care tips with your sister’s oldest girl or whispering with your mom in the kitchen, he was always where he needed to be.  For the first time in ages, you had been able to enjoy the day fully, and you knew Loki was the reason why. After getting home, trading your dress and boots for comfy shorts and a sweatshirt, you padded into the living room.  Loki was there, sitting cross legged, digging through your bag of swag.  He had put seasonal music on in the background while munching through a plate of Auntie’s sugar cookies, two well poured goblets of red wine waiting to be had at his side.  God, he was good. “Is one of those for me?”  You couldn’t help smiling.  Loki, looking like a little kid, over excited and surrounded by all the trapping of Christmas just felt so precious. It took him a moment to reply as he was solely focused on the handmade puzzle box your mother had crafted for all the guys this year, “Hmm?  Yes… one’s for you…” Kissing the top of his head, careful not to dislodge his Rudolf blinking antler headband, a gift to Loki from your youngest nephew, you moved towards the couch.  Sipping from your glass of wine, snuggled under the softest chenille blanket your sister-in-law could find, you sighed contentedly.  Victory over the holiday season felt amazing.  Now all that was left on your to-do list was eating, drinking, and enjoying alone time with Loki until New Year’s.  Suddenly exhausted, you felt the lovely warm drag of drowsiness and snuggled deeper into the sofa.  Shuttering your tired eyes, you listened as Loki stood up, off to hunt up some more food, no doubt.  Visions of sugarplums danced in your head as you started to succumb to a sweet slumber. That’s when you heard it.  

“The moon is right, The spirit’s up, We’re here tonight and that’s enough…” Groaning, wide awake now, you sat up with a shout, “Loki?!”  Like magic his raven head popped around the doorframe, his reindeer antlers askew, a candy cane hanging out of his mouth, “Yes?”

“Um… question:  What are we listening to?” Stepping back into the living room, his new holiday flannel shirt open at the neck, Loki leaned over you, husking playfully,  “Music.  At least, that’s what I believe you Midgardians call it.” “Ha ha.  Yes, I know it’s music, but this particular song?”  You couldn’t keep the tartness from your tone as you pressed your nose into the handsome one on Loki’s face. Pausing, listening intently, Loki cocked his head to the side.  Singing along, his bells jingling, “Simply having a Wonderful Christmastime!” “Ugh.  That’s what I was afraid of!”  Flinging a hand over your eyes, you grumbled, burrowing back into the cozy couch as a means of blocking out the obnoxious noise of the worst holiday song in the history of humanity. Making himself comfortable at your feet, pouring himself another glass of vino, “I like it.  It’s simple.  Direct.  What are you doing?  Me?  I’m simply having a wonderful Christmastime!” From deep in the cushions, muffled but forceful, you pleaded, “Make it stop!  Please!” “What for?  It is still Christmastime, is it not?  And we are enjoying a wonderful time, aren’t we?” Turning back to face him, a Scrooge-like scowl on your suddenly serious face, “I’ll do anything to get you to turn that off.” That got his attention, “Anything?”  Sitting up quickly, you reached for your blanket only to feel Loki snatching it out of your grasp, “You said anything, darling.” Tugging on the plush fabric, practically pouting, “You’re not going to take my new fluffy blankie, are you?” “Oh no.  That’s not nearly enough to stop me from playing my favorite Christmas carol.”

“It’s your favorite, now?  Loki, you just heard it.” Waving your gripes away, pinning you under his arms and under your blanket, “I love it.  It’s my favorite.  You can’t mess with perfection.”

You wiggled, trying to free an arm or a hand, anything to help defend yourself from Loki’s soft, but effective attack, "Perfection?  Loki, it's awful."

"I disagree.  But…”  Brushing a gentle kiss to your captive lips, making you melt into his warm touch, Loki made sure to keep you immobile.  Unraveling under his ardent attention, you gave up fighting, focusing on Loki’s roving hands through the protective layer of your new throw.  

Lost in his lips, you ignored the wretched recording still spinning, until sitting back with a sly smile Loki continued, “Regardless of my newly acquired antlers, I am a reasonable man.  I'm willing to hear your side of things.  Convince me, dove."

Looking up at him through your lashes, licking over your bottom lip that tasted of Loki's peppermint, it took you a moment to refocus on your argument.  Sighing doggedly, “It’s just garbage.  Too sweet, too synth-pop.  It’s plastic.  There’s no substance to it.”

At least Loki did you the service of considering your answer.  He paused, listening to the offending tune, starting to hum along once more.  “I don’t know.  It sounds like church bells ringing.  And I like when the kids start singing!”

“You couldn't.  Those are two of the worst things about it!  There’s not a single redeemable factor in it’s trite,  super saccharine, four minute run time.”  Agitated now and edging into anger, your voice kept rising, spurned on by the inability to get away from Loki’s plush prison, “Also, get off me!” “Can’t do it.  But-” nuzzling into your neck, tasting along the tendon there, “-I can replay this song.”  “That’s it!”  Fury tinted your words as you tried harder than ever to break free of your fleece prison but Loki was brick heavy, unmovable, and impossibly giddy at your predicament.  All things which only added fuel to your fire.  Wriggling like mad, struggling to kick a foot free, you squirmed desperately for leverage.  His response?  A deep chuckle, “Is that all you’ve got, darling?”  Laying those long, lanky bones on top of you, holding down the throw’s corners in a way that made fighting futile, Loki smirked at your distress, “I still don’t see why you hate it so much.  It is a simple song because we’re simply having a wonderful Christmastime!  It’s in the title after all.” With cheeks hot from exertion, fully frustrated and forced to listen to Paul McCartney’s bland holiday ballad start a second time, you nearly shrieked, "I hate it, Loki!  Loathe it, really!  The lyrics are basic, the keyboard is tinny, and Sir Paul is better than that!” “Is that all?” “No!  It's even worse when someone else sings it, like those kids from Glee or an up and coming Country artist making their first holiday record!"

Beneath the blanket your chest rose and fell with bothered breaths.  From rubbing against the couch your hair stuck up in odd angles and you could feel heat rising off your neck.  How had you gone from almost asleep to a blanket related battle royale?  Loki, taking advantage of your confinement, kissed your forehead sweetly, and the change in tactic caught you off guard.  His lips grazed the tip of your nose as you huffed out a pout, eager to see where his mischief making would lead.  Pressing his forehead to yours, that deep sonorous voice whispering lowly for your ears alone, "Not a compelling enough argument for me to turn it off, I'm afraid." And to your holiday horror the song in question started again.  Grousing, "Don’t play it again!  Please!  I’m begging you!” “Already begging darling?”  Thick with mocking, Loki slotted himself between your thighs, keeping you from fighting back with any power. Whining full out now, poking out your bottom lip, “Come on!  Please, let me up and turn this off!” “Why, of course, my pearl.”  With no effort on his part, Loki scooped you up, blankie and all, pulling you tightly to his chest.  Gripping your bottom, his fingers firm through the cotton of your pj pants, he squeezed hard enough for you to yelp. “Hey!”  But that’s all you managed before his talented tongue invaded your mouth.  Now the only thing you could hear was the shaky exhale of your shared sighs and your own needy mewls when Loki started to withdraw.

Godly hands drew your thick and comfy sweatshirt over your head, leaving you bare against the cuddly softness of your new blanket, a perfect dichotomy to the heated hardness of Loki’s chest.  With your arms finally free you tangled your hands in the long tresses of your lover, distracted from the awful music by his groan, “Easy darling.” But now that the tables were tipped in your favor, you had no intention of going easy on Loki.  Not after his antics tonight, not a chance.  Tugging hard enough for him to wince, you ground against his lap with a nip to his neck, “Turn it off then.”

“Now, why would I do that?  Aren’t we still enjoying a Wonderful Christmastime?” Bouncing in his lap, purposefully teasing your mischief maker with a smirk, “We were until you let this terrible song play!” Laughing heartily, Loki stroked over your bare shoulder, one hand resting on your waist and the other cupping your cheek.  “If I wanted to, my darling, I could change your mind.  I could make you adore this song.” “Is that so, Odinson?  I doubt it.”

“Doubt me?  On this, Christmas Eve!  When you know the feelin’s here that only comes once a year?” A confident nod was all he got for an answer.  In a flash you were laying on the soft rug, your legs wrapped over Loki’s and your new blanket tossed to the side.  Fiery kisses to your chest and neck led him to the shell of your ear where he hummed hungrily, “The moon is right, the spirits up…” Enjoying his mouth but not his music, you shoved against his shoulders, panting, “Don’t sing, just kiss me.” Licking into your mouth, Loki’s tongue obliged your need as his hands skated over the curve of your hip, breaking your kiss to croon, “We’re here tonight, dove… and that’s enough.”

“Loki… please stop…”  You fisted his shirt, pulling at the buttons until his muscular torso was under your fingers, strong and solid.  Pushing the plaid cotton off his shoulders, you let your nails drag over Loki’s naked back as you shifted your hips, subtlety be damned. He took the hint.  Nipping a trail over your tummy, Loki kept his eyes on yours as he shucked your shorts, snorting, “No panties?  Naughty!” “If that’s naughty, Loki, then what you’re doing to me is positively evil.” That made your lover grin, his eyebrows lifting in a wickedly Grinchy smile before caressing the inner skin of your thigh with his clever mouth.  Slithering closer to your center, sweeping his tongue in swirls, you couldn’t help the excited shiver he created.  It was enough to block out the terrible song now that you had something more arousing to hold your attention. Using those long, deft fingers, Loki parted your folds with a murmured moan, “You’re so wet, darling.  Maybe you like this song more than you let on?” A curse for him and his rotten taste in Christmas music died in your throat as Loki connected to your sacred skin through a carnal kiss.  Those strong forearms ensured that your knees stayed open wide as his tongue tasted, teasing your clenching cleft, humming with appreciation at your body’s response.  Circling your clit, sucking gently before changing direction and licking your lower lips once more, Loki had you teetering on the cliff of climax in minutes.

Your stomach tensed, ready for release.  Delicious waves of orgasmic bliss were pulsing through you, needing just a touch more friction, a little more pressure in order to crash over you.  Gasping out incoherent whimpers, fingers ruffling Loki’s dark hair, you can’t fight the neediness that he’s created in you. It just feels so incredible, something Loki knows you’re enjoying, “Like that, darling?” Passion clouds your vision as your desire crests, unfulfilled, “You know I do, Loki…” Fingers slide sensually through your slit, his bright eyes on you, “How much?  How much do you like it?” Shaking your head, still foggy with needs unmet, “So much, baby.  I love making love to you so much.” Bumping against your swollen bud, pressing down firmly, Loki begins using his hands to entice you towards ecstasy.  Two fingers enter you easily, delightful, sure, but not as filling as Loki’s hard member.  Reaching for him, you want to lose yourself in loving and being loved by your space god, “Sing for me, dove.” Beseeching you breathlessly, Loki’s hand stills, keeping you at the fringe of falling apart.  Waiting for your reply impatiently he asks again, “Sing, please.” “A song?” His reply is a shake of his dark head.  Slowly, smoothly, Loki withdraws his fingers, only to press them into your yielding flesh once more, “Yes, my darling.  Sing my favorite song!”

Sucking a bruise onto your inner thigh, those fingers of his spreading your walls, the exquisite pressure on your straining clitoris.  Any one of these distractions would have been hard to concentrate through.  Experiencing them all together?  Overwhelming.

And that’s the excuse you would use to explain what happened next.  “The party’s on… The feeling’s here…” As soon as the words left your lips, Loki’s attention resumed in earnest, “That’s it, dove!  Keep going!” “That only comes, this time of year… Ah!  Loki!” Loki watched you lustily.  Your eyes half closed, legs splayed lewdly, a nervous grin on your face.  He never wanted you more.  Slipping out of his jeans, wasting no time, Loki guided his hardened cock into you with a satisfying sigh. Your response to his abundance?  “Oh shit, Loki!  Yes!”  Snapping his hips against your pelvis, iron banded arms clinging to you, Loki stuttered, “I don’t hear you singing!” “We’re simply having a Wonderful Christmastime!”  How many times did you repeat the chorus?  Hard to say.  It became a mantra.  A thing to chant in time with everyone of Loki’s deliberate and deep thrusts. This time, when you felt the familiar stirring of your satisfaction, Loki didn’t stop you.  Encouraging you with a soulful kiss, his stroke surging in time with Paul McCartney’s crooning, you came apart in each other’s arms with a smile.  The song started again and you couldn’t stop the giggles from bursting out of you, “What’s so funny, dove?” “You said you could make me like this terrible, horrible, awful song.” Sitting up and taking you with him, Loki chuckled as he kissed your hand, “Hey, don’t make fun of the best holiday song I have ever heard.”  Pulling your new blanket around the both of you, “I still hate it, but-”

“But?”, his eyebrow arched in surprise, waiting for you to continue.

“But I don’t hate it as much.” Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, playfully ribbing you, “Do I have to force you into having another Wonderful Christmastime?” Biting your bottom lip, you returned the favor by sweeping a stray lock of Loki’s black hair over his shoulder, “Babe, you could make crazy, insane love to me each day and every night… and-” “And?”  Kissing Loki lightly on the nose, you stood up on shaky legs and started towards the hallway.  At the entry way you turned back letting the blanket fall to the floor, “-And Wonderful Christmastime would still suck.”  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To My Many Minxes:  @toomanystoriessolittletime @vodka-and-some-sass @just-random-obsessions @brokenthelovely @lots-of-loki @thefallenbibliophilequote @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @iamverity @mizfit2 @sammy-jo1977 @wolfsmom1 @jessiejunebug @iluvsumbucky @unadulteratedwizardlove @procrastinatinglikeabitch @shxdowofdarkness @nonsensicalobsessions @ahintofkiwistrawberry @alexakeyloveloki @rorybutnotgilmore @crystalizedcaramel @lokislittlecorner @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81 @caffiend-queen @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @jenjen8675309 @that-one-person @roguewraith

[wangxiangiftexchange]

Lunar New Year Gift for muckkles!

For @muckkles, I hope you enjoy this!

*****

Pearls Dissolved in Vinegar 

It isn't Wei Ying's fault. Lan Wangji was very firm on this matter.  

When they were young, Wei Ying's habit of flirting with everyone in range had driven Lan Wangji off the wall. When he was gone, Lan Wangji had occasionally thought that he would happily watch Wei Ying flirt with every woman in a hundred li if it meant he were alive.  

When Wei Ying did, in fact, somehow, miraculously, return to him, Wangji didn't doubt for a second that it was a trade well worth making. Which did not stop watching his beloved charm strange women from being extremely irritating.  

Since the Guanyin Temple--since everything had come out in the open--since Wei Ying had become his, his, his--Wei Ying's flirtatious behavior with others had diminished. Not...ended. Not completely.  

Wei Ying was just so friendly. And absurdly trusting of others' intentions, for someone who had been through everything he had, although possibly that was just his self-esteem issues surfacing again, leaving him unsuspecting that his brilliant smile was enough to inspire intent upon his virtue. Whatever shreds of it remained after Lan Wangji's very thorough and very much appreciated campaign to remove it, in any case. Regardless of the reason for his husband's obliviousness, Lan Wangji found that having his beloved did very little to quell the prickles of his jealousy.  

Admittedly, it hurt less. Knowing that Wei Ying was his and any encouragement of others' attention was obliviousness and not intent, the fire that roared within him when anyone else dared to lay appreciative eyes on him was warm and free to be acted upon, not cold and futile and needing to be suppressed with all the Lan self-discipline in his possession.  

Wei Ying yelped as Lan Wangji lifted him bodily from where he was chattering with a fruit-seller--dispensing loquats of all things, which certainly didn't help even if the connection couldn't reasonably be said to be the fruit-seller's fault. He threw his husband over his shoulder and stalked off towards the inn where they were staying for the particular night-hunt they had just completed.  

People gave the two of them askance looks as they passed by, Lan Wangji carrying his husband over his shoulder as though that was a thing people just did, face unreadable to these strangers, Wei Ying keeping up a light chatter of insincere protests and (decidedly not obliviously) flirtatious complaints. No one, however, dared to do anything, perhaps due to their collective or individual reputations, perhaps due to the fact that Wei Ying was really very bad at pretending he wasn't delighted by his husband's outrageous behavior.  

The innkeeper looked for a moment like he might be about to do or say something, but then he hesitated, and when Lan Wangji swept past with Wei Ying, the two of them were not followed.  

Lan Wangji threw Wei Ying down onto the bed as soon as they reached their room, pausing only to close and lock the door behind him.  

"Oof," Wei Ying said as he hit the bed, then pouted in a way that made Lan Wangji want to take his lower lip between his own teeth immediately. "Lan Zhan, what was that? Do you think that just because you're so strong you can manhandle this poor husband as you please? Have you no--mmf!" His disingenuous protests were cut off as Wangji followed his earlier impulse with a kiss that started out as a savage bite before turning softer and more probing, relishing in the wet heat of Wei Ying's mouth and the warm line of his body under him.  

"I can't believe people think I'm the one who's shameless," Wei Ying gasped when Lan Wangji let him breathe again, in what Lan Wangji supposed was the most genuine complaint he had issued since he had physically removed him from the produce stall at the market.  

"Mn," Lan Wangji said noncommittally, nosing his way down Wei Ying's jaw and neck. Wei Ying giggled and gasped, and something in Lan Wangji's chest purred smugly at his ability to draw these sounds from his husband.  

"You scoundrel," Wei Ying said fondly as Lan Wangji temporarily stopped mouthing lasciviously at his collarbones in order to redirect his attention to the ties holding Wei Ying's robes shut. Wei Ying actually disliked it when Lan Wangji destroyed his clothes too often when they were on the road, so Lan Wangji nobly refrained, even when he really wanted to, so that he would have the leeway to do so when he really really wanted to. Ideally, any night passionate enough to result in serious sartorial damage would also be passionate enough that it wouldn't occur to Wei Ying to consider the state of his clothing until the following morning. 

Lan Wangji was not yet ready to rule out that kind of night, but for the moment he was just barely patient enough to manage to get his husband's top off the long way. Fortunately, Wei Ying wore very few layers when the weather meant he could get away with it.  

As soon as Wei Ying's chest was exposed enough, Lan Wangji latched onto his nipple with more teeth than lips, drawing an approving hiss out of his husband as he arched up into it. His other nipple barely had time to feel neglected before Lan Wangji's hand came up to pinch it, twisting viciously.  

"Mean," Wei Ying panted. "My husband is so mean to me!"  

"Mm," Lan Wangji hummed contentedly.  

"So mean," Wei Ying said with a pout that showed off his swollen lip, a sight that set the smug and purring thing in Lan Wangji's chest off all over again. "My husband kidnaps me off the middle of the street and brings me back to his lair to ravish me in the middle of the day!" 

"Mn," Lan Wangji agreed.  

Wei Ying tipped his head back. "Ahh...there's no way for me to get free...I'm completely helpless, my husband is too strong..."  Wei Ying could absolutely have gotten free if he really wanted to. It never failed to give Lan Wangji a thrill that he did not.  

Lan Wangji pulled the ribbon from his head, surging upwards to capture Wei Ying's hands above his head, tying the ribbon around them and to the bed beneath. Wei Ying moved cooperatively underneath him. Lan Wangji kissed him again, harsh and sweet and full of so much love.  

Wangji pulled away for a moment, over Wei Ying's nonverbal protest, to yank Wei Ying's trousers off. He fell back upon his husband immediately, kissing him greedily and groping him enthusiastically.  

"Ahhh, no," Wei Ying sighed huskily, pushing his ass back into Lan Wangji's hand. "No...ah, I'm completely overwhelmed...there's no way I could stand up to the great Hanguang-jun." 

Lan Wangji gave his ass an extra squeeze before releasing the handful of cheek he had captured and bringing his hand center-wards, sinking one finger into Wei Ying's hole as Wei Ying pressed back eagerly into his hand.  

"Ah, ah, my husband is so cruel, he's going to do me without any kind of oil," he said. Lan Wangji wasn't sure whether he intended this as prediction or command, but either way he sounded plenty enthusiastic about it. Wangji obligingly added a second finger, gaining a number of delighted protests of "Mean!" 

Lan Wangji moved on fairly quickly from two fingers to three, and then he was lining himself up and sinking inside in one stroke.  

"Aa-ah!" Wei Ying cried, head thrown back, exposing the elegant line of his throat. Lan Wangji bent down to bite it, teeth sinking in around the protrusive Adam's apple. Wei Ying moaned in pleasure as Lan Wangji thrust roughly inside him. Part of Wangji wanted to nail Wei Ying to the mattress with full force and speed immediately, but he held back for the moment in order to make it last.  

"Lan Zhan, please...ah, ah, so mean," Wei Ying pleaded.  

Lan Wangji sped up a little, his thrusts rocking Wei Ying's body as he once again abandoned his pursuit of covering the entirety of Wei Ying's body with teeth-shaped bruises to grab his face for a frenetic, fantastic kiss.  

If Lan Wangji were truly trying to do so, he could have held out for hours. But right now he had other concerns, such as staking his claim on Wei Ying's body in every way possible, including a few that were slightly implausible. When he finally came, after fucking his husband to orgasm three times in a row, he simply lay there, head on Wei Ying, reveling in the feeling and the smell and the sheer ecstatic knowledge of him.  

"Not that I'm complaining," Wei Ying said, serious this time, "but what was the reason behind this little interlude?" Lan Wangji buried his face in one of Wei Ying's shoulders, savoring the cozy connection and marshalling his words. 

"The fruit seller," he said.  

"The one I was talking to when you grabbed me? What about her?" 

"She was flirting with you."  

Wei Ying broke into peals of laughter. Lan Wangji would have been more concerned by the possibility that Wei Ying was laughing at him if it wasn't such an incredibly beautiful sound.  

"Ah, Lan Zhan, I'm a handsome man," Wei Ying teased. "I can't help it if I attract a few admirers."  Objectively true. And yet.  

"Mine," Lan Wangji said firmly.  

"All yours," Wei Ying agreed softly, and the two settled in for a good long snuggle.  

[somebodyhelpthenotdeadfreds]

You can chuck this in the bin if you want, but....Vandal Savage coming back from hell and oh dear, Gary never did mention that he's the spawn of an immortal dictator, did he?

AO3 - takes place before @agentmarymargaretskitz‘s fic right here!

Ava loved nothing more than a good, thorough spring cleaning. It was so satisfying to get everything into its proper place, she got to break out her label maker, it was a good time all around. And today’s task was especially exciting - sorting through all of her old Bureau files.

All was well, her sticking a label on one folder, or shredding another, she had three neat piles going. It was fairly mindless, with some music on in the background, it was easy to fall into a routine.

She noted that the current file in her hand was Gary’s file, which she realized she’d never even looked at. After all, Rip had handpicked him (for some reason) and he hadn’t done anything that had made her have a look. She couldn’t help but open it up, not really expecting to find anything except a list of credentials, a master’s degree, things like that.

She was not expecting three pages, completely blacked out before she got to his previous experience. Curiosity getting the best of her, she got up to do more research with Gideon. Only - “I’m sorry, Director Sharpe, but Captain Hunter had that file sealed in my records.”

“Why?”

“Classified, I’m afraid.”

“But it’s Gary.”

“Unless my code is overriden, I cannot divulge this information.”

Gary was fine with being left alone in the manor. Really, he was. It was more important that he do more research on the other loom pieces, rather than tag along with John - Constantine - and the rest of the Legends on the mission. This was more important. This way they could have a head start, and John wouldn’t end up dead.

That couldn’t happen. Not if he could help it.

John had left his house to him. The thought still made Gary a little warm, along with the memory of that kiss. Maybe - maybe now they could start talking more! About their relationship, about whatever they are, just talking in general. Oh, just to talkagain would be a wonderful thing.

He was lost in those thoughts when he heard a door rattling. The same door that John had been trapped behind, that Gary had helped rescue him from before bungling the whole thing again. He got to his feet, already nervous but starting a fireball in his hand when the door flew open.

The fire died out in his fist, his grip going completely slack as a black boot stepped through, and piercing eyes gazed back into his.

“Gareth,” Vandal Savage smiled, all the warmth a smile with nothing behind it but malice.

Gary cursed his poor circulation as his eyes rolled back and he collapsed to the floor, out cold before his head hit the carpet.

“Gareth.”

Gareth (Gary wasn’t his name yet, it wouldn’t be for a while now) jumped up from his chair in the library, Jane Eyre tumbling out of his hands and falling on its spine as it hit the rug. “Y-yes, Father, w-what do you need?”

Vandal Savage stepped forward, toe of his boot pressing down on the book spine, effectively cracking it. “Gareth, this isn’t the swordplay manual I told you to memorize.”

“No, it’s not.”

“What’s that? I can’t hear you. Speak up.“

Gareth lifted his head, his body shrinking back. “I said it’s not, I-I’m sorry. I finished it already, I was just-”

“So, you think you’ve already learned all you can?”

“I didn’t say-”

“So if we sparred, right now, you could land a critical hit on me?”

“I - no, I don’t-” Gareth was cut off again by a rapier pressed into his hand. His hands were sweating too much to keep a firm grip on it. “Father, I said I wasn’t ready, I don’t want to-”

“Block me.”

“I don’t want to fight!” Gary pleaded desperately, raising the sword against his will to try and shield the blow to his face. The sword clattered to the floor, easily batted away by its opponent as Savage stepped closer, the blade barely missing his jaw, “That’s not fair, you can’t - it’s - it’s an invalid point if it’s to the face, it’s not fair-”

His foot bumped the chair leg as he walked backwards, tripping and falling onto his back, narrowing missing the brick fireplace. He looked up into Savage’s face with pleading eyes and words, screaming when the blade came down, covering his face in a pathetic attempt at protection.

The blade made an awful screech as it scrapes against the rough surface of the bricks, leaving behind one jagged white line just beside Gareth’s head. Gareth let out the breath that had burned to hold in.

A hand was in front of him. Gareth blinked back tears and took it, immediately wishing he hadn’t. The grip was strong enough he could swear the bones in his hand rubbed against each other.

“What do you say?”

“Thank you.”

Gary woke up with a gasp, rubbing both sides of his face with his hands in an attempt to pull himself together. Maybe - maybe what he saw was just an awful dream. A horrible memory that escaped to the surface from him repressing all of them for so long.

He heard a noise downstairs.

Okay, it wasn’t a dream.

Time to panic.

He carefully crept along the carpet, dipping into the greenhouse. He had an idea, a fantastical idea but it would have to do. He tried calming himself down as he pulled out dried toadstools, grinding them as quietly as possible. Dropping in a few petals of asphodel, he let out a shaky breath. He could do this. He could mix this potion, and he - he didn’t have to be afraid. He added the pulp of a silver apple and pounded until it was all liquidy. He picked up the bowl and drank all of it down, gagging on the flavor of apple, mint, and a flavor too close to blood. Rubbing his face again, he picked up the weeding knife and made his way down to the main room.

The fireplace crackled, letting off sparks that illuminated the figure looking through Gary’s storage boxes he’d brought from his own apartment. Gary tiptoed into the room, back hugging the wall. He was barely breathing.

“Gareth, come here.”

Gary’s spine straightened up completely, and he walked away from the wall, approaching Savage. Savage hadn’t even turned to look at him, reaching into the box and pulling out a tortoiseshell hair comb, decorated with a gold and silver heading, and a single pearl at the top. “Good to see you kept this. Saved me a trip.”

“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be-”

“Did I ever tell you where this comb came from?”

“It was - it was my mother’s, I know that, put it d-”

Savage chuckled, turning it over in his hand. “Took it off a Romanov daughter while I supervised the cleanup back in the day. Scared the hell out of your mother when I told her about it one night.”

Gary felt his stomach turn over.

“I was always drawn to this little trinket, ever since I scrubbed the blood off of it. Never could quite explain it.” He finally turned his head to look at Gary, still smiling. “But now I know.”

“You can’t be here,” Gary told him with a shaky voice as he approached him. “Why - why do you want that? And now? I’ve had - I’ve had it for over twenty years and you never-”

“It appears we’re looking for the same items, son,” Savage said, setting it down into a box on the table. Gary saw the glint of Shakespeare’s ring beside it.

Color drained out of Gary’s face. “It’s - it can’t be a piece of the - of the loom.”

“Oh, it is,” Savage grinned even more. “And you’ve had it with you all this time. Along with all of these other pieces. Glad to see you’ve finally taken some initiative.”

Gary grit his teeth, tried to glare at him as he folded his arms. “I don’t know how you got here, but I’m sending you back.”

Savage laughed out loud, leaning back to look at Gary. “Oh, Gareth, I would love to watch you try.”

Gareth was fifteen years old, and had spent the day locked in his room. Again. But this time, he had already packed his bag. A toothbrush, toothpaste, all the cash he had (even the change),, the only picture of his mother, the ticket stub to see his first and only movie that he’d snuck off to when he was nine, and a pen. All that was left was

He’d gotten good at picking the lock to his room, but had never actually escaped, too afraid each time to step outside the door. Now he was finally stepping through, creeping downstairs to the library. Finding nobody inside, he darted over to the mantle, picking up his mother’s hair comb she was wearing in the picture.

“Gareth.”

Gareth nearly dropped his bag, whirling around with the comb in hand to Savage staring at him, not even a fake pleasant smile. “Gareth, what are you doing?”

“I just - I don’t have - I need to run into town, and I’ll be back in an hour, I was just - just looking at-”

“Gareth, don’t lie to me. I told you, if you’re going to lie, I should believe it. Get back upstairs.”

Gareth clutched the comb so tightly that the teeth bit into his wrist. “N-no.”

“Gareth.”

“I said no!” he said, or rather, shouted. He tried to head for the side door and felt that bone crushing grip on his other wrist. Struggling made it hurt worse, but he kept trying. “Get off me!”

A swift backhand shut him up, and he felt himself being dragged back across the carpet. “Be reasonable, Gareth, put it down, go back upstairs, and I’ll forget this ever happened.”

“No! No, I won’t! You can forget, but I can’t! You - you didn’t tell me what happened to her.”

Snap.

He grit his teeth as tears escaped his eyes at the pain, as his shoes tried resisting the smooth wood floors. “You didn’t tell me. You didn’t tell me about - about her, or the other ones before me-”

“You never needed to know, Gareth. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be on your own, don’t you understand that?”

“I’d - I’d rather be on my own than be with you!”

Just as Savage turned around this time, Gareth’s frantic free hand caught the side of the lamp at the end table, and he grabbed it, swinging out and somehow clocking Savage right across the face. He dropped his wrist, but Gareth swung hard again and got him to the ground this time with a loud clang.

(that clang still echoes in his dreams and he doesn’t know if he’s having a nightmare or not)

Gareth wheezed, dropping the lamp and staggering back before his back hit the edge of the fireplace. The comb fell out of his hand, and as he reached for it and put it back in his bag, he watched Savage struggle to sit up. There was no sign of affection, even false affection, in his face. Instead, it was an animalistic sort of sneer, baring all of his teeth and hatred. Gareth was just getting to his feet, steadying himself with the stand of fireplace tools, when Savage lashed out with a hidden blade. Gareth let out a shriek, his hand grabbing the closest tool, the poker. And he brought it down hard onto Savage’s hand, piercing through and sticking into the floor.

Gareth trembled as he picked up his bag, before bolting towards the door. Savage’s shouts were loud, and furious, and traveled down the staircase that Gareth fled down.

“You’re nothing without me, Gareth! You know I’m right!”

Gareth shoved the front door open into the sheeting rain, and ran down the front steps, his ears ringing so badly he didn’t realize how far he was running until he was at the local bus stop, two miles away. He didn’t catch his breath until he was sitting in the very back of the bus, and he looked down at his broken, swollen wrist. The rain pattered against the window. The bus’s brakes sighed as they were released, as the bus lurched forward and started back on its route.

Father wasn’t here.

Gareth was alone.

He began sobbing in the empty bus. To this day, he didn’t know if he had sobbed out of pain, out of fear, or out of relief.

“What are you collecting the pieces for, my son?”

My son was only for when Father wanted something, it always meant worse pain down the road.

“None of your business,” Gary’s shaky voice declared. “I’m just - looking. Curiosity reasons.”

Savage looked over at him, holding up a picture. “Not for him.”

Gary suddenly lunged forward, and even though he had an inch on his father now, Savage held the picture back at arm’s length. “Ah ha, I thought so.”

“Give it back to me, now.”

Savage’s finger and thumb covered up the Beebo Gary was holding on his lap in the picture, but not his or John’s bright, goofy smiles. “Gareth, you know you can’t lie to me, and at least try a bit harder. This house is a Constantine family heirloom, or curse, depending on who you ask. Don’t you both look cozy.”

Gary yanked it back, snatching the comb from the box as well and stepping away from Savage, his heart racing. “I’ll makeyou leave.”

Savage chuckled. “You know what’s fascinating about that picture? There’s a few of John Constantine scattered about the place, none of you.”

“Camera shy,” he defended, and slipped the comb into his pocket, his hand reaching for the poker and keeping a loose grip on it. Savage picked up the loom pieces in their box, looked over at Gary.

“I’ll be taking that other piece, now.”

“No! You can’t have this. I won’t let you take it. I - I need it.”

“Somebody else needs it more, from all the chatter I’ve been hearing downstairs.”

Gary gripped the poker tighter, working his jaw.

Savage cocked his head to the side, studying Gary’s expression. “Oh, Gareth,” he sighed. “I know that look.”

Gary said nothing, setting his jaw in a straight line.

“Gareth, you remember why I did what I did?”

“For yourself.”

“No, no. I did it all for love. Everything I did was for love, to have her love me the same way I loved her. I can see that look on your face.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Gareth, we’re blood. You know I only wanted the best for you.” Savage came around the couch, holding his box of pieces. Gary glared at him, but didn’t trust his mouth to not start screaming if he opened it. “Son, in all my years, I was only able to get one piece and I didn’t even know about them at the time. Think of what we can do with these.”

“That’s why you can never have them,” Gary spat. “I will never let you have these because I know what you’ll do with them.”

Vandal put a hand on his shoulder, Gary tried stepping back but the grip was strong. It wasn’t forceful, but it was strong. “Gareth. Listen to me. I know I wasn’t the best father to you.”

Gary looked away, staring into his reflection in the mirror.

“But I promise you, with these pieces, we can start over. I’ll be better for you. You won’t run away. Your mother wouldn’t have done what she did. It will be a new start for all of us.”

Gary still said nothing. A slow smile spread across Savage’s face.

“With these pieces, you can have everything you’ve ever wanted.”

Still nothing.

“Gareth, don’t you understand? With these pieces, he’ll love you back.”

Gary whirled his head around. “Don’t say that. I couldn’t - I couldn’t do that to him.”

“Why not?”

“Because I - I can’t!” Gary finally blurted out. “I couldn’t live with myself if I did that. And - and I don’t have to do that, F-Father, because - because he cares about me. I know he loves me. Magic can’t fix that.”

Savage laughed out loud, in that loud booming voice, but Gary didn’t flinch for once. “Now Gareth, listen to yourself.”

“I am. I’m giving him the pieces to save Astra and himself, and I won’t let you stop me.”

“And then what, Gareth?” Vandal said, rubbing his shoulder. “You give him all the pieces, let him rewrite his past, and where does that leave you in his future? Do you exist in his life? What if his rearrangement means that he never meets you, that you never get to be anywhere with him? Look at yourself. Do you think he’s impressed with you? You know that for all I’ve done and said, Gareth, I’m not a liar. Do you think he will ever come back to you once he gets his life sorted out?”

A tear escaped Gary’s eye, and he dropped the poker to wipe his eye. Every word was crushing, because it was all true. The words ate away at his mind, and his heart, and for just a moment - “But this would change all of that?”

“Of course, Gareth. I can fix it so you’re the only light in his life, his only reason for living. And he’ll never, ever, leave your side.”

Savage grinned as Gary blinked hard a few times, staring at the floor. After a few long, long beats, Gary picked his head back up, eyes glittering as he glared at Savage. “N-no.”

The smile melted off. “What do you mean, no?”

“I said NO, Father! I would never - I could never force him to love me, because I’m not like you. I never will be! I don’t care if he never wants to see me ever again if it means he’s alive and happy. I will never, ever be who you wanted me to b-”

Gary let out a harsh shriek, as the knife went deep into his back, slumping forward against Savage’s shoulder, unable to conjure another word with his lips. Savage’s free hand gripped his jaw, forcing his head up to look at him as he tsked, like he was scolding a dog that chewed on the rug.

“Gareth, Gareth. You’ve always been a disappointment to me, but I would’ve thought that you would have at least remembered what I taught you, what I tried to make you understand; I told you over and over again that nobody loves you unless you forcethem t-”

Gary spat blood into his face and received a hard blow to the face that dropped him to the ground. He rolled over enough so he could look up into Savage’s face, his strength slowly ebbing away. This wasn’t supposed to happen, he - he mixed it right, it should have-

“Now give me that piece, Gareth.”

Gary spat out a little more blood. “It’s not yours, it’s hers. And you’re - you’re wrong. She did what she did because - because it was the only thing she COULD have done that would have hurt you. She didn’t give you the chance to do it yourself.”

He squeezed his eyes shut as the boot came down, and the taste of apples and mint suddenly flooded his mouth.

He then felt oddly cold, slippery drops fall onto his face and he let out a laugh. Oh, he was definitely delirious. Looking up, he grinned, weak and bloodstained as Savage clutched at the wound in the same place in his own back, eventually dropping to the floor, writhing in pain and cursing.

“You - you little -”

POOF

Suddenly, Savage vanished in plumes of black smoke, the loom pieces disappearing from their box with him. Gary wheezed, pulling the comb out of his pocket and staring at it. For some reason, it didn’t vanish along with the others.

The pride in having the upper hand vanished as the pain increased, and he couldn’t stop any of his thoughts from flowing - you failed, you lost the pieces, he’s still out there, you didn’t stop him, John’s still in danger, John doesn’t love you, John could never love you after everything you’ve done, you’re a failure, failure, failure…

***

John called from the foyer, Charlie by his side. “Gary, we’ve got a piece, where are you?”

Gary usually came down at the first sound of John being home, so this was - unusual. John felt uneasy, his usual state, but still.

He headed down the hallway. Ever since quitting smoking, his nose had cleared some, and he could smell the weak remnants of brimstone coming from the main room.

He was expecting a demon or a hellhound, not the body sprawled out on the bloodstained carpet, barely breathing. Heart falling right to his feet, he dropped down next to “Gary, what happened? What - what happened? Who did this? Gary? Gary, can you hear me?”

There wasn’t an answer, John shouted for Charlie to hail the Waverider as he lifted Gary’s hand to try and get a reading for his pulse.

A bloody decorative hair comb fell out of his hand.

[sassycassie-s-series]

All My Fault 13

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC, BatFam - Damian Wayne/Batman

Rating: PG

Notes: (Masterlist) This one is also a tad long, but I’m putting up the gala all pretty quickly so you don’t have to wait for forever to get through the whole event since it lasts for like 3 chapters!

Tag List (Open): @batboys-and-other-messes @nanna-the-batmum @probsjosh @welovegroot

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12

^^^^^

“Oh, you poor darling!” an older woman exclaimed, clutching at her pearls with one hand and my upper arm with the other. “Trapped within time itself for eight years with no escape? That must have been dreadful.”

“Thank you,” I said. I didn’t want to talk about being trapped in the time-stream because it required lies. So I just said thank you. A lot.

My arm was still in Damian’s. People could pull me around to talk all they wanted and he stubbornly hung at my side, exchanging pleasantries politely and acting like a proper gentleman. Most people didn’t even notice that many of his comments contained snide jabs that were so subtle only I would catch them because I knew him.

I couldn’t get over how good he looked in his tux. It was tailored perfectly to suit his physique and he just looked suave. His hair was carefully, lightly gelled out of his way with his thick bangs swept upward. It helped keep attention on his eyes—which were so green I could almost see treetops in them. Damian had grown up into quite the handsome young man—and I really couldn’t help but try and memorize every detail.

He and Jason filled out tuxedoes the same way—like one too-intense flex of their arm muscles would shred the whole thing.

“Miss McCloud?” a familiar voice asked. I turned.

“Diana!” I greeted. I let go of Damian long enough to hug the Amazon around the shoulders. “Lovely to see you!”

“It’s nice to see you as well. Relieved to see you home all in one piece,” she replied. She nodded to Damian. “Young Mr. Wayne. How are you this evening?”

“Adequate, Ms. Prince,” he answered curtly. “Adequate.”

“Well, you should be better than adequate with a woman like this on your arm,” Diana said, smiling at me. Damian blinked, appearing to be at a loss for words.

“You are correct,” he finally said. “I hope you enjoy the evening.”

“I believe I will, Damian. Enjoy it yourself,” Diana said.

“We will,” I put it, smiling.

The music started playing. I turned my smile to Damian. He glanced at Diana. “Excuse us, Ms. Prince,” he said. “I promised her a dance.”

Diana beamed at us—a glint in her eye that I thought I recognized as mischief. “Of course, young ones. Enjoy.”

Damian nodded to her while I waved and he led me to the dancefloor.

“Tt. People can be so suffocating,” he muttered, sliding his hand around to my back and cupping my shoulder blade.

“Diana’s not so bad,” I said.

“No. Not her. Prince is a good woman. I mean everyone else,” Damian amended.

“Careful. We’re in a room full of gossips. Don’t let them hear you say that,” I teased.

Damian leaned down and brushed his lips against my ear. “They won’t,” he whispered. It tickled. I shuddered and snickered.

“Okay good,” I said as he began to dance with me.

We could have gone full-formal waltz to this song—spinning around the room, elbows high, heads turned away from each other, trying to talk and dance well at the same time, and failing at the former in favor of the latter.

But we didn’t. We waltzed in a much more casual way. Elbows more relaxed, the twist on the basic step small and the travelling little, looking into each other’s eyes, talking more than dancing.

“You look a vision tonight, McCloud,” Damian said.

“Thank you,” I said, not even bothering to fight the blush crawling over my face. “You look really nice too.”

He nodded graciously as we continued to dance.

“You’ve gotten a lot better at dancing,” I offered.

That actually earned me a smile. “Thank you,” he said. “Grayson helped me.”

I grinned. “Of course he did.”

We lapsed into silence so he could spin me under his arm. I felt the skirt of my dress brush against his legs as it flared out. When he gently pulled me back into the dance hold, he gave me that intense stare of his that seemed to peer straight into my soul. If it was possible, his eyes were even greener tonight than I’d ever seen them.

As we continued to dance, I paid attention to his leading style. When he was thirteen—at the last gala I attended only a few months ago for me—I mostly led him since he didn’t like dancing and always did so with a lot of tutting.

Now he was strong and fluid. Light and smooth on his feet.

“You know, I think you’ve become a better dancer than Dick,” I remarked.

Damian snorted. “Don’t let him hear you say that,” he replied sarcastically. I laughed softly.

His grip on me was firm enough to lead but light enough to allow me to move. I pushed back against his hand on my shoulder blade as I was supposed to do, even though it had always been hard for me to push back since my natural instinct was to relax against that pressure so it would be easier to be led. Even though it actually was meant to be easier with me applying pressure back to him.

Another silence fell between us, broken only by the other guests and the music—and the rain that had started pouring so hard we could hear it over the music.

We just kind of… stared at each other. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Damian’s. The vibrant, crystalline green with their diamond-shaped hazel flecks drew me in and held me captive. I’d heard the cheesy pickup line that someone could swim in someone else’s blue eyes. But Damian’s were the canopy of a rainforest and it would be extremely easy for me to get lost in there.

It was like the rest of the room ceased to exist. It was just me and Damian, dancing around in a blur of lights and colors.

BOOM! A crack of thunder made me jump so bad that the moment was shattered. I shrieked, clutching Damian’s hand and arm hard and jumping closer to him. His hand around my shoulder blade for the dance slid over the rest of my back to hold me to him on instinct as the rest of the rumble faded out. I set my forehead against Damian’s chest.

“That scared me!” I breathed.

He rubbed my back. “It’s alright,” he said.

I nodded and pulled back. “Yeah. Sorry about that,” I apologized.

“There is no need to apologize, McCloud,” he replied.

The music carried on, so we did too, this time with a big apologetic smile on my face. Damian didn’t seem to mind my little jump at the loudest crack of thunder I’d heard in literal years. Which I was grateful for.

The song ended with Damian twirling me under his arm again and trapping me in his hold.

We were standing a lot closer to each other than we’d been at the beginning of the dance. We could have wedged a dictionary between us at the beginning, now we’d be lucky to fit a homework packet. I was close enough to smell Damian’s aftershave—or cologne. It was spicy and warm. Probably the expensive kind he used to hate wearing and only did so for fancy occasions.

Both of us were breathing heavier than normal from the exertion of dancing, still staring right at each other. Mouths parted with surprise, tiny ghosts of smiles forming on our faces.

“Thank… thanks for the dance,” I said to Damian. “You fulfilled your promise.”

He nodded. “Of course,” he replied.

Dick appeared. “Can I dance with you, Cloudy?” he asked me.

Damian let me go so abruptly I almost fell over in my heels. “Sure,” I replied. Damian nodded to me and retreated to the side of the ballroom.

“You still dance well,” Dick remarked. His dance hold was looser than Damian’s. Even less proper. His hand was more on my ribs than my shoulder blade and he held our hands at my shoulder-level instead of my eye-level (it had to be my eye-level in a proper hold because I was the shorter).

“Only when I have good partners,” I replied with a casual shrug.

Dick laughed. “So unwilling to accept a compliment,” he teased.

I would have elbowed him but I wasn’t in a good position. “Shut up. I can too accept a compliment. But a dance is only as good as its worst of the two partners.”

“That’s not true and you know it,” Dick retorted.

“It is when it’s me and any of you boys and there are photographers here,” I said.

Dick contemplated that for a moment. “Good point.” He looked around. “The cameras are on you tonight.”

“I know.”

“You doing okay?”

“Of course,” I said.

“When are you doing interviews? And with whom? Have you decided yet?” Dick asked.

“Nope. Haven’t decided. I'm thinking I’ll do Cloudburst with Lois, if she’ll take it,” I replied, whispering my alias. “I like her the best. Much as I admire Clark and find his writing style pretty good… I don’t know. I just trust Lois more.”

Dick laughed. “I don’t blame you,” he said. “And what about as Nora?” He dropped his voice to a whisper.

I shrugged. “Dunno. Vicki kinda rubs me the wrong way but she’s Gotham Gazette and, you know, city pride and all that,” I said. Dick spun me under his arm.

“I can understand that,” he said. “Your dress is super pretty by the way.”

“Thanks. Damian designed it.”

“Yeah, but he mentioned you chose the color?”

“I did,” I confirmed.

“Why did you pick green? I mean, don’t get me wrong Cloudy, it looks really nice on you. Especially with the gold accents. But usually you tend to wear blue,” Dick said. I rubbed my lips together and smirked.

“Aw. You jealous, Dick, that I picked Damian’s old color over your current one?” I teased.

Dick snorted. “No,” he retorted. “Just wondering why you picked green when you told me blue was your favorite.”

I snickered. “Well, I’d tell you the reason, Dick, if I thought you could keep it a secret. But I don’t think you can so I won’t,” I said. Dick scrunched his eyebrows.

“Hey! I can keep a secret!” he protested. I snorted and rolled my eyes.

“No you can’t. Not if they don’t really matter,” I said. “Important stuff, yeah sure. But not something like this. It’s not life-or-death so your big mouth will blab.” I smirked as Dick gave me a shocked look. We were both being dramatic to make each other laugh. It was working.

“C’mon Cloudy! Please?” he pleaded, giving me a pout and puppy-dog eyes. I pursed my lips.

“Sorry Dickiebird. It’s nothing personal and not that I don’t trust you. I just don’t need you telling anyone else.”

Dick huffed as the dance ended. With a dramatic flourish, he kissed my knuckles and moved to take me off the dancefloor.

Damian swooped in. “Enjoy your dance?” he asked.

“Yeah. I always love dancing with my brothers,” I said, nudging Dick with my elbow. He laughed.

“Thanks for the dance, Cloudy,” he said. “I’ll leave you two to chat.” He gave me a cheeky wink and disappeared into the crowds.

I glanced at Damian. “I'm gonna sit down. I’ve been standing in these heels for too long and dancing always makes it worse,” I said. My heels weren’t very tall, but they hurt to be on for too long. “You can go socialize if you want.”

“No, no,” Damian said. “I’ll sit with you.” He led me over to one of the nice sofas pressed against a wall. It was empty. We both sat on it, rather closer than we would have been were we alone to be gracious to anyone else who wanted to have a seat.

One of the event photographers came over to us. “‘Scuse me, sorry sir and ma’am, could I get a picture of you two? It’s just, the lady here is all anyone’s been talking about for days,” he said awkwardly.

I smiled. “‘Course,” I replied.

“Could I get you both smiling? Maybe laughing at something one-a youse said?”

Damian looked like he’d rather take a bite out of a ghost pepper than smile and laugh for a photo.

I leaned over to him. “Hey, how does NASA organize a party?” I asked.

“Tt. Likely hiring it out to a professional event coordina—” Damian began.

I cut him off. “They planet!” I corrected.

Damian planted his forehead in his hand and sighed. “McCloud…”

I busted a gut laughing at his reaction, throwing my head back and squeezing my eyes shut. He peeked at me through his fingers and dropped his hand, quirking a small, amused smile at me that actually reached his eyes. I heard a camera shutter go off. Damian shook his head, still grinning.

“You’re quite the character,” he muttered. I laughed again as the photographer slipped off. “Would you care for some air, rather than sitting in here? There is a bench on the terrace.”

“Sure,” I replied. Damian got to his feet and offered me his hand. I took it and let him help me to my feet. He looped my arm through his and escorted me outside to the terrace. We sat down again on the bench, letting the cool Gotham summer night air drift over us. The rain had stopped for the moment.

“So,” Damian started. “Ten days in the future. How are you holding up?”

I licked my lower lip and bit at it, glancing over at him. “I'm okay,” I said. “Nothing too bad yet.”

“I… I hope you stay… alright.”

Our eyes met. Damian’s had a genuine wish in them. I gave him a melancholy smile. “Thanks.”

Next

[breakingdownsu]

Fade Out Chapter Nine

Looong author's note; an explanation as to where I've been. I took a bit of a hiatus for two reasons:

I fell down a very deep fandom hole for a fandom I hadn't been in since I was much much younger and it took up a lot of my inspiration. On top of my hectic working schedule I generally have only enough time for one, maybe two, fandoms at a time and this one sort of surged to the top. I'll be back making Steven Universe content soon enough, I hope.

I have been working on my original fiction for a long time, trying to get it print-ready. In the end I decided to go the self-publish route, that way I can concentrate on writing more and more often rather than waiting on letters from agents. I would hesitantly suggest that if you like my SU works you would probably enjoy my original novel, I work with similar themes, and the better I can do with my original work the more time I can dedicate to writing more original and more fandom content. I'm optimistically going to include a link here and I hope that it catches someone's fancy at least: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07BGSPPBY

And now, the conclusion to Fade Out.

…..

It took the pearls just parsecs to agree that Courage needed their protection.

After that first awkward meeting, after Courage had been escorted out of the vault, Treasure explained the situation to the others in fast, concise gesture-speak. At first they couldn't quite believe it, no gem introduced to them had ever been trustworthy, but Treasure seemed certain. Moreover, if they let this Jasper carry on in her guileless way, she would be shattered in short order.

From inside the vault, they schemed. For all their frailty, they were experts at manipulation and it was easy to root out the gems that were set against Courage. When another Jasper with a slightly higher rank showed signs of plotting against her, Gift casually dropped a few incriminating facts about that gem into a conversation with Pyrite, and she was shattered the next cycle. When Sweetness heard that an underling Jade had been spreading rumours about Courage, she convinced her general, a Carnelian who had Sweetness as a favourite, that the Jade had damaged her during a visit. Carnelian picked a fight, and the Jade didn't stand a chance.

The other gems were easy to fool, but they all kept a nervous eye on Pyrite. She was notoriously fickle, the only gems she had ever liked with any kind of consistency were the pearls themselves, and only because they couldn't talk back or disobey her. Gems had been shattered in the past just for looking at her the wrong way.

One particularly rough cycle, Pyrite had gathered all of her generals in the antechambers outside the vault, and although she seemed to be in a good mood the way she occasionally glared at Courage had all of the pearls on edge. They were flitting around the room, 'entertaining' the guests, and in every spare moment they gesture-spoke their worries.

What's wrong with her?

Nothing's wrong, it's just a bad cycle. She's been like this since Forecycle.

She was angry with Sneaks, but she's not anymore. She's turned on Courage.

They were on the same mission. Sneaks put the blame on Courage for the damaged hull.

Who was last with Sneaks?

Mercy was.

Mercy, I'm sorry.

Treasure crossed over to where Mercy was hovering and slapped her hard across the face. Shocked, Mercy burst into tears, and as all the eyes in the chamber turned towards them Treasure gathered her into her arms.

“What's going on?” Pyrite called sharply. The pearls very rarely wept, but if any of them did it was usually Mercy.

“Her gem is hurting her,” Treasure answered.

Still sobbing, Mercy clutched her gem with both hands. She'd picked up on the plan as fast as intended.  Treasure's eyes shot towards Courage, who was looking concerned and rising to her feet, and gave her a mental warning to stay where she was. Courage, thankfully, understood the message.

Pyrite stalked over and pulled Mercy away, yanked her hands away from her gem. Mercy just sobbed harder.

“Looks okay to me,” she grumbled.

“I think it's a hairline crack,” Treasure said quietly, leaning in towards Pyrite meekly. “They don't show on the surface.”

“Hairline crack?”

“Yes,” Treasure nodded. “Charm had one before she broke, remember?”

As she'd expected, Pyrite's cheeks bloomed with fury. Charm had been a particularly beautiful pearl and when she crumbled Pyrite had every gem who had been with her in the last half-orbit shattered.

“Who was she last with?” Pyrite growled.

“Sneaks. Wasn't it, Mercy?”

Sniffling, Mercy nodded.

“Was Sneaks rough with you?” Pyrite asked, though they could already tell she was in a shattering mood.

Mercy nodded again.

Pyrite didn't say another word, she just grabbed Sneaks and dragged her from the room in front of the rest of her confused guests. The pearls sighed quietly to themselves, relieved.

They had bought Courage more time, but for how long?

…..

The vehicles had ground to a halt. The occupants gaped, looking from the fusion to the remains of their leader blowing away in the wind to each other. Pyrite's rig was a smoldering wreck, and the other vehicles weren't much better.

The fusion was huge, even by fusion standards. She wasn't as thickly muscled as Courage or as slender as Treasure, but had a strong athletic build with impossibly long legs and four supple arms. She had Treasure's long aristocratic nose and Courage's strong jaw, her skin was a pale rippled green and her hair was a thick cloud of forest-green curls. She had no weapon beyond her own powerful fists, and it was possible she didn't need anything more. Her enemies were too blown away by her to even try to attack.

The fusion turned on her heel and picked up what was left of the rig, along with the gems inside, and walked off with it. They crossed a gorge with a simple jump, climbed up a set of dunes and wandered in the general direction of the rising third sun.

After the smoke from the wreckage was a good distance behind them, they finally put the rig down and fell apart. The fusion's form burst and they ended up a few feet from each other, sitting in a daze in the sand.

“Holy crap, that was awesome!” Steven called, scrambling out of the rig ahead of the others.

Treasure and Courage just stared at him, struggling for words. The pearls descended on Treasure, running their hands over her hair, her arms, her back, looking for damage.

“I'm all right, don't fuss,” Treasure mumbled at last, waving them away. “Courage?”

“Yeah, I'm okay,” Courage exhaled.

“That was impressive for a first time fusion,” Garnet mused (the relief was palpable in her voice.)

“Yeah, and not a moment too soon,” Amethyst muttered, giving herself a shake.

“They had a clear goal in mind,” Pearl cut in, though she was standing beside the pearls rather than the Crystal Gems. “That's all it takes, really.”

“She's gone,” Courage mumbled, stroking her gem. “She's really gone.”

Steven was confused. This was a happy time, wasn't it? He would have thought Courage and the pearls would be ecstatic to have their enemy ground into dust. They didn't look happy. In fact, they looked more scared than anything.

“Yeah, she's gone!” Steven enthused. “She won't be able to bother you again. Unless her followers keep up the chase, but they looked pretty bummed out so I don't think so...so you can do whatever you want now, you can even....”

He trailed off when Garnet put a firm hand on his shoulder and a finger to her lips.

“Let it sink in for them.”

Baffled, he let Garnet lead him away to an overhanging rock. There he sprawled in the sand with her and Amethyst, watching Amethyst fiddle with that water-gathering device. He couldn't help but notice Pearl stayed with the pearls.

“I don't get it,” he said at last. “Why aren't they happy?”

“They probably are, deep down,” Garnet told him. “But it could take them a while to realize it. They need some time.”

The third sun was setting. Amethyst filled a bowl with water and Steven drank greedily. The air was full of smoke and dust.

He could see the pearls 'talking'. Treasure was leading the conversation, and Pearl's hands were fluttering to rapt attention from the others. A little shred of panic ran through Steven; having met with other pearls, would Pearl still be their Pearl? Even having survived several near-death experiences, she was more interested in talking with these stranger pearls than making sure Steven was okay. That wasn't like the Pearl he knew, and it frightened him.

Looking for a way to take his mind off of what he knew was a selfish, childish notion, he got up and walked around the overhanging rock. Maybe there would be something new on the other side....

….nope. More sand. And a few little green things.

Wait, what?

“Hey guys, look at this!” he called.

Garnet and Amethyst peered over the side of the rock.

“Is that....grass?” Garnet asked.

“I think so,” Steven said, crouching in the sand and lowering his face to get a closer look. “I mean, it doesn't really look like grass from home or anything but it's pretty close.”

Amethyst called to the others, and in moments they were all staring dumbstruck at the little green shoots.

“This is impossible,” Treasure whispered. “Nothing has grown on this planet for hundreds of orbits!”

“But it is growing,” Gift said, poking at a sprout.

Pearl's gem flickered and whirred and shot a beam of light at the grass, scanning it carefully. Then she beamed a screen in front of the pearls with a lot of numbers and symbols on them.

“There's clean water under the ground, it's closer to the surface than anywhere else,” she said. “And with the overhanging rocks in the area it probably missed the worst of the suns' glare. Your maps show that this area gets overlooked by the regular mission routes....the planet's trying to fix itself.”

The pearls were stroking the leaves of the little plants thoughtfully. For a little while, they were all lost in thought. Then Courage broke the silence.

“We need to go. Tripcycle is coming up and we should try to get to the warp pad before then.”

Just before they left, Gift gathered up on of the plants, root and all, wrapped in a torn piece of her skirt.

…..

The rig groaned and screamed as they pushed it to its limits. At any moment it felt like it was going to just collapse and throw them out into the sand. Steven kept up a steady stream of chatter to a mostly unresponsive audience.

“...Beach City has a whole bunch of these vacation houses, nobody lives in them for most of the year and they're pretty big so I'm sure nobody will mind you guys using them for a while until we can find you somewhere better....oh, there's the barn as well but it's not that great and it's pretty crowded in there...”

In his head he was already finding places for them in Beach City. Courage could probably help out on Yellowtail's boat, if he needed some extra muscle power. Gift would fit in well at the Arcade if he could convince Mr Smiley to let her work there. Mercy could help out at Fish Stew Pizza, Kiki would probably be happy with another girl around....

“...I mean, you don't all have to get jobs, you can probably just hang out 'cos you don't need to eat or pay bills and stuff, but it's going to be...”

He trailed off as the screaming rig finally pulled up to the working warp pad.

Well, 'working' was a hopeful statement.

It was glowing, which meant it was operational, but it was cracked and shooting sparks erratically. Steven's stomach dropped; all this way and all that pain for nothing.

All of the gems looked crestfallen, climbing out of the rig and staring down at the crackling warp pad, but Pearl scanned it anyway, from all angles.

“It's working,” she said, hesitantly. “Just barely. I think one warp would kill it. Two at most.”

There was a grim silence. They wouldn't all be able to warp at the same time, they knew that. The Crystal Gems needed to return home, but Courage and the pearls had been planning their escape for who knows how long. Pyrite's captives had fought hard to get there in one piece and succeeded, but the Crystal Gems were strangers on the planet and probably wouldn't last much longer.

We'll figure something out, Steven thought frantically. Pearl can warp with the other pearls, then she can figure out a way to get us out. Or Garnet and Courage can, and then plot another course. They can get a ship and bring it out here....

“We will stay,” Treasure said. Her voice cut sharply through the late evening gloom.

The Crystal Gems stared at her in horrified silence, but the pearls and Courage looked peaceful, resigned.

“We can't just leave you here....” Garnet sputtered.

“Yes, you can,” Treasure said smoothly. “The warp will only take you. We did intend to warp off the planet, but our real goal was to escape Pyrite. We have done that, thanks to you.”

“I'll protect them,” Courage said, rising to her feet and standing behind Treasure. “There won't be another Pyrite. I'll make sure of that.”

“Don't be stupid,” Amethyst spit out. “This place is a dump! Why would you want to stay? We can figure something out!”

“We thought the planet was dead,” the fused pearl said, and it was such a surprise to hear her speak Steven jumped. “But there are plants growing again. We can cultivate them.”

“We can fix this place, at least on this side,” Treasure assured them. “None of the other gems have ever come out this far. We will be quite safe. Some day we may even fix the warp pad.”

No, we can't leave them.

But even as he thought that, Steven knew the Crystal Gems were ready to leave.

“We can come back for you...” he said, tears thick in his voice. “We can find a way back and you can leave, if you need to.”

“Thank you,” Treasure smiled beatifically down at him. “But I don;t think that would be necessary.”

With a heavy heart, Steven went with Garnet and Amethyst to stand on the warp pad. Leaving them behind was bad enough, but he nearly screamed when Treasure reached out and stopped Pearl from getting on the pad.

No, you can't have her! She's ours!

He could feel Garnet go tense beside him, and Amethyst's hand crept towards her gem for her weapon. But Pearl's fingers flickered in that graceful looping way of gesture-speak and Treasure moved back, with a gesture of her own. The other pearls matched it. Pearl joined them on the warp pad, and the light started to pull them upwards.

Courage and the pearls watched them float into the sky, until the planet vanished and the light hurtled them towards Earth. Steven looked over at Pearl briefly, and noted that she was weeping in a way he had never seen before.

…..

In the aftermath, Steven often wondered what had happened on that planet after they left. Garnet and Amethyst didn't like to talk about it, but he knew Garnet was looking for a way to track the planet down. Maybe one day they could hijack an enemy ship and go back for them. Or maybe by the time they did that, the pearls would have successfully grown plant life and made a proper home for themselves.

We'll see them again, he thought, always.

Pearl had been silent for days afterwards. She was better now, but still much quieter than Steven was used to. He did his best to cheer her up, and it worked to a degree, but he was now more aware that the pearls had filled a hole in Pearl that couldn't be filled with anything else. Gems could be distant, and even amongst gems pearls were so distant as to be unknowable.

We'll see them again. We have to.

[artificialqueens]

I'm on a race and I'm doing fine (thank you) (Pearlet) - Vladonna

An: I don’t give a rat’s ass about staying anonymous, I just feel like the world needs more Pearlet, so here’s a little fic based on season 7 of RPDR and RPDR Untucked. Hope you enjoy it literally - heels.

“I’m, like, dripping everywhere,” Violet says, because, well, that seems like a reasonable and completely logical first thing to say to someone you don’t even know all that well.

“That’s disgusting,” Pearl manages to look offended, scandalised, and amused all at the same time and Violet is somewhat impressed. “that’s probably what I slipped on!”

“No, that’s not what happened, bitch,” Violet laughs, “I wasn’t even over there!”

“You know I slipped on your lubey ass,” Pearl insists and Violet just stares at him. He has to seriously bite his tongue not to say something cheeky about just how lubey his ass can get.

“Leaving snail trail over the goddamn runway,” Pearl mumbles under his breath and so they’re laughing uncontrollably again.

“Now what the hell am I supposed to do with you for the next hour while they deliberate?” Pearl asks, but it’s not really mean or said in a way that suggests he’d rather be anywhere but here.

“Let’s have a kai kai!” Violet tries to sound sarcastic and not like all he really wants is for Pearl to take him apart, little by little, right there and then, on that tacky sofa, in front of all those cameras (nothing he hasn’t done before, really).

And then suddenly they are talking and it’s so good and Pearl is funny and smart and witty and Violet doesn’t really feel like shutting up anytime soon. They forget all about the cameras and the crew around them and other girls being criticised just few feet away.

When the rest of the bitches finally pile in from the main stage, Violet catches himself wishing that he had just a little bit more time with just Pearl. But as everyone engages in the conversation about today’s main stage, Pearl’s hand says between them, their fingers not quite intertwined but just close enough for Violet to know that the placement is not an accident on Pearl’s side.

And when Pearl moves to comfort Max and touch up his make up, Violet still finds himself gravitating toward him. It’s a funny feeling, one that Violet hasn’t felt in ages and it’s kinda good and exciting, but a hell of a lot scary at the same time.

But the most beautiful thing is that Pearl doesn’t seem to mind his company, doesn’t seem to oppose the idea of them spending more time together and Violet tries not to read too much into it, tries not to get too excited about just one hour long conversation, but he still can’t seem to shake off the feeling that there’s a promise of something unclear lingering somewhere here.

So he couldn’t tell what the hell came over him for the love of all that is holy, but somehow he finds himself showcasing Pearl the sequin between his legs and the next thing he knows is that Pearl isn’t telling him to fuck off but instead is showing him something that doesn’t even remotely resemble a tuck and good god, that really is a handful and Violet feels really inappropriate about being this turned on.

They’re interrupted by the five minute warning and then they’re pushed around like they always are and then Max gets sent home and then there’s some more pushing around and Violet could swear he sees Pearl shred a few tears but he can’t get close enough to check, can’t get close enough to talk to Pearl and they’re just pushed around and then it’s time to shoot the workroom scene and Max is gone and its shit and then they’re pushed into the cars and driven to the hotel and Violet is stuck between Kennedy and Ginger Minj and he’d rather poke himself in the eye with a fork than listen to those two but he’s out of drag already so he hasn’t even got a heel on him.

So it’s hours until Violet sees Pearl again. It’s dark outside already and he finds Pearl at the back door of the hotel, leaning on the wall and smoking. He’d thought he’d find Pearl here, but he’s still a bit surprised, as usually Pearl’s here with Katya, doing some crazy shit and chain smoking. Tonight’s different, though, and Pearl is alone and he’s looking really small and actually really really tired.

Violet leans on the wall next to Pearl and just breathes in the smoke Pearl exhales and the night is really quiet and chilly and Violet feels really tired, too, like the competition is finally too much and the weight of the world on his shoulders is too much, too, and Pearl is solid next to him and it’s comforting on some mysterious level.

“I can’t believe Max’s gone,” Pearl says in the middle of his second cigarette and his voice is tiny and defeated.

“It’s shit,” Violet says.

“You know, he really came through when I most needed someone to slap me awake,” Pearl says.

“It’s shit,” Violet says again, because he doesn’t really know what else to say. “Are you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, I mean I’m just gonna miss him,” Pearl shrugs.

They fall into silence again and Pearl lights another cigarette and the darkness is getting darker and Violet hates that he’s not good enough with people, that he doesn’t know how to make it better, make them feel better.

“D’you wanna come upstairs?” Violet says finally.

“Yeah, I’ll be just a second,” Pearl says, motioning to his dying cigarette.

Violet almost turns around and walks away, but. This is so insane and stupid and reckless and he really wants to do it and he’s just so shit at telling himself no and Pearl with a cigarette between his lips is just such a turn on and this is gonna go down as the prime example of his shitty life decision making skills and just fuck it.

“No, I mean, do you want to come upstairs with me?” He asks instead of walking away.

Pearl doesn’t say anything, just stumps his cigarette and nudges Violet gently toward the door, follows him inside and into the elevator. As they ride up, Pearl intertwines his fingers with Violet’s and it makes something in Violet’s stomach feel funny and he resents himself for that a little.

“I swear, if you’re still tucked, I will not touch you,” Pearl smirks.

“Bitch,” Violet laughs.

Pearl lets Violet lead him to his door and into his room and soon as the door is shut behind them, Violet’s back is pushed against it. Violet imagined Pearl to be gentle and almost zen with his movements, but instead Pearl’s lips on his are demanding and rough, borderline aggressive and Violet loves it, lives for it and is just as hungry when he kisses Pearl back.

Pearl lifts Violet and Violet throws his legs around Pearl’s waist and Pearl grabs his ass and it feels amazing and their lips stay pressed together the entire time and Pearl’s biting Violet’s lower lip and Violet is already producing sounds that are not completely human which is a little bit embarrassing, giving that they’re not even undressed yet.

Pearl carries Violet to bed and throws him on it and climbs on top of him and this must be the hottest thing to happen to Violet in months. He lifts his head and Pearl’s lips are right there, catching his and kissing him again and Violet can taste the cigarettes and something minty and Pearl’s hands are all over his body and Violet wants more.

“Get me out of these clothes,” he pants into Pearl’s mouth, “Jesus, get yourself out of those clothes.”

“I always knew you were a slut,” Pearl laughs, but pushes his hand down Violet’s pants, “Girl, do you not wear any underwear, like, ever?”

“Nah,” Violet laughs, “I just let my lubey ass hang loose at all times.”

“Slut,” Pearl laughs again and kisses Violet and wraps his hand around Violet and the contact is so sudden yet so needed that Violet full on whimpers.

“Oh, my God, how do you tuck all of this?” Pearl sounds disbelieving.

“That’s a medical mystery,” Violet deadpans and Pearl laughs, “And by the looks of it, you’ve got at least as much going on down there.”

“That’s exactly why I don’t tuck and just smash it with my six pairs of tights.”

Then Pearl kisses Violet quiet, and as much as Violet loves the banter, he loves this even more, loves Pearl’s hands and lips on his body, loves how Pearl grinds his hips against Violet’s, loves how heavy the air between them is with the smell of sweat and sex, loves how uneven Pearl’s breath gets and how firm his touches stay.

They undress each other with no finesse to their movements, hurried to get all that unnecessary fabric out of their way. When they’re both naked, Pearl grinds down again, rubbing their dicks together and Violet isn’t capable of anything else than rolling his eyes and moaning like the filthiest hooker on earth. He’s pretty sure Katya’s able to hear everything from the other side of the wall, but oh well.

Pearl keeps sliding his dick against Violet’s with no rhythm whatsoever and he sinks his teeth intoViolet’s collarbone and Violet is pretty sure his sheets are being ruined under his fists. Violet can practically see the orgasm coming behind his closed lids before he can feel it and then Pearl thrusts like it’s the only thing he knows, once, twice, three times, and the orgasm just washes over Violet like a fucking tsunami and he’s gasping for air and Pearl thrusts again and then he’s coming, to, and Violet wants to sob just the tiniest bit.

Violet covers his face with his hands and Pearl collapses on the bed next to him and threads his fingers through Violet’s hair.

“That was unexpectedly high energy for such a tired person,” Violet smirks.

”You really are a shady cunt,” Pearl hums and keeps playing with Violet’s hair. Slowly, their breath becomes even and finally, Violet feels like he could move without his muscles spasming violently, so he leans over Pearl and grabs the first piece of clothing he can reach from the floor and half-heartedly cleans Pearl and then himself.

“You dirty whore,” Pearl laughs. “That was my shirt.”

“I’ll buy you something pretty when I win the $100,000,” Violet promises and tries to pat Pearl’s chest, but lands on his face instead.

“Doesn’t save me from the shame of walking down the hallway in a shirt covered in your come,” Pearl kicks him lazily and Violet bursts into laughter.

“Bitch, you should be honoured to have been anywhere near my lady parts.”

“Must be hard to get fucked by anyone when you’re this full of yourself.”

Violet laughs again and throws a blanket over them. ”Shut up now, bitch, I need my beauty sleep.”

They curl into each other and as Violet drifts to sleep, the last thought to cross his mind is that this is actually quite nice.

*

When Violet wakes up the next morning, Pearl’s gone. His side of the bed is cold, too, so Violet guesses he’s been gone for a while now. It’s not exactly surprising per se, but it is kinda unpleasant nonetheless. Violet gets into the shower, and as the stream of water that is just a tad too hot washes the ghost of Pearl’s touch on his body away, he thinks that Of course Pearl would wake up to regret this, and why wouldn’t he when it’s Violet they’re talking about and Violet is not very likeable in any way really, and Violet is someone to get off with and then sneak out on and definitely not someone to wake up to.

He gets out of the shower and there’s a loud bang on his door like there is every single morning like a clockwork and then it’s being pushed around and squeezed into the car again and Katya looks at him funnily but doesn’t say anything because Fame is in the car as well and Violet thanks all the gods above that this, of all times, is the time that Katya decides to act like a fully functioning member of the society with an actual brain to mouth filter.

He doesn’t see Pearl until the workroom and even there, Pearl doesn’t fully meet his eyes and it sucks but Violet isn’t there to pine after stupid boys, after a stupid boy, so he might as well not start now.

And then he hasn’t really got all that much time to pine after anyone, because the race is on again and they bring all the eliminated bitches back and Violet gets paired up with Max, which is nice because Max is a distraction and Violet doesn’t have time to notice how close to each other Trixie and Pearl are standing and how Trixie rests his hand on Pearl’s shoulder and hip and the small of Pearl’s back (he notices and it’s driving him crazy and he stares at them so intensely that he sticks a couple of pins into his finger instead of the dress he’s trying to construct for the challenge).

And then those two manage to win and Trixie almost makes out with Pearl right there, on the stage, and had Violet not been attached to Max, he would have started a cat fight right in front of RuPaul and the judges, which would basically have been the perfect fucking summary of the joke that his life has become.

The week after that baby Jesus hates him enough to put him in a group with Pearl and Miss Fame. He doesn’t get a moment alone with Pearl, because Fame is always there and Pearl seems to be frustrated and annoyed and they keep snapping at each other with Fame and Violet hates being in the middle of that.

They’re not ignoring each other, he tells himself. They’re just really busy with the competition and it’s not like they’re not being civil or something.

That week Pearl has to lipsync and Violet can’t bring himself to watch, so he just closes his eyes and prays that Pearl gets his shit together.

Thank fuck, Pearl does.

The next episode they have to dance and Violet gets to pair them up. He’s dying to choose Pearl, but he has to think strategically, has to win this, so he chooses Katya and pairs Pearl up with Kennedy because Kennedy is solid and Violet needs a solid bitch to ensure Pearl’s place in the race.

“What was that?” Katya asks when they’re rehearsing their tango bits.

“What was what?” Violet says, trying not to trip over his or Katya’s limbs because he’s graceful like that when it comes to dancing.

“The other week,” Katya says and he’s far better at not letting his limbs point in every direction. Maybe if Violet had such a control over his body, he wouldn’t fall into bed of every pretty boy and definitely wouldn’t spread his legs for then. “It was really really hard not to hear you when you were moaning the house down.”

“Um,” Violet says, “Yeah, about that.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna spill. Although part of me would love to see you disqualified,” Katya smirks.

“Oh, no,” Violet laughs nervously, “It wasn’t like… It wasn’t anyone visiting or anything. It wasn’t anyone from the outside.”

Katya stares at him in suspicion that slowly turns into disbelief.

“Shut up!” he screams in a way that Katya screams things when he gets a little bit too excited. “No way! Who?”

Violet just makes the eyes at Katya.

“Shut. Up,” Katya screams again, “I can’t believe you two skanks hooked up. This is brilliant. I so predicted this. I knew I got some psychic abilities from my late Russian great grandmother.”

“Bitch, there’s literally not a drop of Russian blood in you,” Violet rolls his eyes and Katya flips him off.

“Trust, there’s been plenty of other Russian body parts inside of me,” he shoots right back and Violet gags.

He wasn’t really planning on telling anyone, at least not as long as they’re both still here, but it’s still nice that someone knows, and Katya’s maybe crazy as fuck but at least he’s not devious or shady about it and that’s a hell of a lot more than Violet could ask for right now.

His plan works and they win and Pearl’s safe and if he’s just a little bit smug about Trixie being sent home, then he deserves to be and no one’s gonna know anyway.

Violet tries to just throw himself into the competition, and to some extend it must work, because he is in the top five, after all, but this thing is still bothering him. He’s got Pearl so deep under his skin that it’s driving him absolutely insane and he can’t even make a plan to sleep with Pearl to get him out of his system, because it didn’t exactly work out all that well the first time around. During the daytime, when they’re shooting, he puts up his best performance face, because he might be a worthless trinket, but he’s still the most beautiful one, but once he’s alone in his numbingly impersonal hotel room, all he can do is lay on the floor next to his bed and feel like shit.

For their second to last episode, RuPaul invites Santino back and the workroom reminds Violet of a henhouse that hasn’t had a cock around in a while. Had Miss Fame still been here, he would’ve felt right at home, really.

RuPaul brings Santino to Violet’s station, and he really is indeed very handsome and funny and flirty and pardon Violet’s poor judgement and long-ago-established-to-be-shit decision making, but Violet decides to flirt back just out of spite for everything and everyone.

“D’you have any questions for Santino?” RuPaul asks in unimpressed voice after witnessing Violet bat his eyes at Santino like crazy and strike at least three poses that include leaning on and over the table and Santino just stupidly smile back and hide behind a fucking Hello Kitty umbrella for a good couple of minutes or so.

“Can we go to Red Lobster?” the tone Violet is going for is hoarse and ruined, like I had a dick deep down my throat a second ago and I still would had you not interrupted me.

Santino bursts out laughing and RuPaul still looks lowkey disturbed, but the reaction Violet was hoping for comes from farther away. It’s a sound of something being dropped that is followed by a muffled string of curses and Violet doesn’t dare look, but he knows it’s Pearl.

Violet acts like a thirsty ass bitch for the rest of the interaction and Santino makes it easy for him up until RuPaul gets proper tired of their shit and leads Santino away from Violet’s popped hip and cheeky smile.

“I feel kinda uncomfortable right now,” Ginger says.

“I feel kinda turned on,” Katya does this thing where he whispers so loudly that the whole room can hear him.

Kennedy laughs and then stops abruptly and looks like the whole thing was so not amusing that it personally offended him.

Pearl beheads a Hello Kitty toy.

*

That night, Violet’s pity party is interrupted by a loud knock on his door. He’s pretty sure there’s no more filming today and that doesn’t exactly sound like room service . Maybe they need some extra behind the scenes material, he thinks to himself as he makes his way up from the floor and to the door. Or maybe Santino’s here to take him to Red Lobster. At this point he’ll sleep with anyone to get the crown.

He just about manages to open the door and before he knows it, he’s being pushed back into the room and thrown against the wall and there’s a set of lips pressed to his.

“What the fuck,” Pearl growls into his ear and kicks the door shut.

“Um,” Violet has time to say before Pearl’s lips smash into his again.

There’s nothing gentle or careful about Pearl’s touch this time around. He’s plain aggressive and it hurts. It hurts when he grabs Violet’s wrists and when he sinks his nails into Violet’s shoulders, it hurts when he grabs Violet’s chin and presses their lips together, when he pulls Violet’s hair to get a better angle and bite the delicate skin on Violet’s neck, it hurts when he pins Violet against the wall and pushes Violet’s legs apart with one of his own, pressing just enough and in all the right places for it to be a tease.

It hurts like a little bitch and absolutely nothing has ever turned Violet on the way this does.

Pearl tugs Violet off the wall by his shirt and pushes him toward the bed.

“You. Are. Absolutely. Fucking. Unbelievable,” Pearl hisses and punctuates every words with a little push.

They stop when Violet’s legs hit the bed and Pearl is standing so close Violet can feel Perl’s uneven breath on his face.

“Unfortunately you will have to be more clear about that,” Violet whispers.

“Red Lobster, Violet?” Pearl says. “Can we go to fucking Red fucking Lobster, Violet?”

Oh.

“What are you-?”

“You are so fucking Vogue, Violet, so let me just eye fuck you into oblivion right here in front of everyone and then take you to a fucking dinner and fuck you for reaL!” Pearl is practically shouting now.

“Are you jealous of Santino, baby?”

“No! Yes! I don’t know,” Pearl says. “I just really don’t want anyone else to take you out for dinner.”

Violet laughs at that and wraps his arms around Pearl’s neck and kisses him. Pearl’s still aggressive and adamant, but at least he’s not being hurtful anymore. Although, on the second thought, Violet kinda liked it rough.

“I hated seeing you so ready to bend over and take it.”

“I’m always ready to bend over and take it,” Violet says coyly. “Wanna do it right now?”

Pearl looks like he’s actually considering it for a moment and something in his eyes darkens.

“I’d love to fuck you on every surface in this room, but I kinda had something else planned,” he says.

And then Violet is pushed up against the wall again and Pearl drops on his knees in front of him and Violet fucking squeaks when it hits him what’s going on.

Pearl unbuckles Violet’s jeans and tugs them off of him and Violet can’t help but stare at Pearl in admiration, trying to somehow grasp the context of this angelic creature on his knees in front of him.

Pearl’s a fucking tease, taking his sweet time licking Violet’s lower stomach and biting the insides of Violet’s thighs (he’ll have to cover those marks with make up for their runway tomorrow) and pressing Violet’s hips back against the wall every time he tries to thrust them forward. He’s literally not touched Violet’s dick and Violet’s still approximately as hard as it’s humanly possible to get.

And then Pearl finally has enough mercy to wrap his mouth around Violet and Violet lets out a moan that is so embarrassingly loud and desperate that he’ll deny ever producing it until his dying breath. Pearl looks Violet straight in the eye and he looks so smug and pleased with himself and the situation, like he was born to do this and he loves every second of it and if Violet bangs his head into the wall a couple of times, then, well, those brain cells were worth it.

The things Pearl is doing with his tongue and lips and hand are so good, like seriously magical and they make Violet howl and moan and plead and wince like he’s an actress in a really bad porn movie and he wants this to last forever but at this rate he’s not gonna last long, especially if Pearl keeps doing that thing with his tongue and the tip of Violet’s cock.

“Pearl,” he pleads and tries to pull Pearl up, “I’m not gonna- Just gonna- So close.”

Pearl just does that thing again, and again and oh, alright, then. Violet pushes his fingers into Pearl’s hair and bangs his head into the wall again (Hello Katya, literally) and whimpers.

And then Pearl’s tongue does something no one has ever done to Violet before and that’s it. That pushes him over the edge and he orgasms so violently his legs give out and thank God for Pearl pinning him against the wall, because otherwise he would’ve collapsed.

Pearl just swallows all of it, still managing to look pleased and yup. Violet is permanently ruined for anyone else.

He pulls Pearl up again, and this time Pearl doesn’t resist, gets up from the floor licking his lips like he just had the tastiest meal ever and is still hungry for more, that smug bitch. They press their lips together and Pearl’s still pressing Violet against the wall and Violet can taste himself in Pearl’s mouth and as always, it’s a little weird but in a hot way.

Violet pushes his hand down Pearl’s pants and Pearl is hard and leaking, perfect really. Violet wraps his hand around Pearl and the tiniest gasp leaves Pearl’s lips and Violet starts to work it, slide his hand up and down Pearl’s length and Pearl is panting into Violet’s ear and gently nibbling his earlobe and kissing his neck. It doesn’t take long, just a few rough, quick strokes, and a few gentle ones in between them and Pearl buries his face into Violet’s shoulder to muffle the moan he lets out as he comes.

They collapse onto bed, a sweaty and only halfway undressed mess of limbs. Suddenly, there’s a bang on the wall that startles them from their stupor.

“Yas, come through, mama,” Katya shouts from the other side of the wall, and then, a few seconds later, “Atta girl, Pearl!”

“That was very disturbing on so many different levels,” Perl laughs shaking his head and Violet just chuckles.

“You know, now I kinda wish they would have brought Santino in earlier,” Violet says.

“You’re such a dumb whore,” Pearl laughs again.

They fall into silence and Pearl strokes the hair on Violet’s temple gently and for a moment Violet just lets himself feel very very happy.

And then Pearl shifts uncomfortably and pulls his arm from beneath Violet and Violet sits up because this looks awfully lot like leaving.

“Stay the night,” he says hurriedly.

Pearl just stares back at him.

“Please?” Violet says.

“Yeah,” Pearl says finally, “Yeah, sure.”

He undresses and gets back into bed with Violet and Violet wraps his arm around Pearl’s waist and spoons him.

*

In the morning Violet wakes up with face full of hair. It takes him a second to realise the smell and warmth of Pearl next to him and another minute to remember what’s going on. His bare chest is pressed against Pearl’s back, and so is his painfully obvious morning wood.

“Excited to see me?” Pearl asks and his voice is raspy with sleep yet still amused.

“Very,” Violet chuckles.

“You fucking pervert.”

Violet laughs and Pearl gets up and starts getting dressed.

“Gotta go get ready before they take us to the studios,” he says looking for his shirt. “I can’t go near Ginger and Kennedy smelling like a prostitute.”

“You think they would mind and Katya wouldn’t, then?” Violet asks bemusedly.

“Oh, it would just smell like home to Katya, I don’t think he’d mind.”

“You’re such a bitch,” Violet giggles and Pearl just shakes his head and fishes his shirt from underneath Violet’s bed.

“Okay, wifey, daddy’s off to work now,” Pearl says and turns to leave, but before he makes it too far, Violet grabs his wrist and Pearl turns to look at him.

“If I don’t get a chance to say this later, good luck today, yeah?” Violet says. Pearl just nods and leans in to kiss Violet once more before he goes.

*

Violet kills the runway and Santino lives for it, so Pearl growls into Violet’s ear backstage and sucks a visible mark on his neck.

Natalie flips her shit for that and shouts at Violet to cover it up and at Pearl to go sit on his hands and do nothing until it’s time to move again.

Katya gets sent home and it is shit but does increase Violet’s chances at winning considerably.

The last episode is a lot of work and they have close to nonexistent amount of time off and they’re all tired and snappy and, quite frankly, the workroom feels like the explosion waiting to happen. But Violet and Pearl manage to steal little moments, ones that don’t look significant, yet feel paramount. It’s nothing that the cameras or people around them should be able to catch, mainly because Natalie is still onto them and Pearl is scared shitless of her. So it’s a little brush of a hand against hand when they walk past one another, or a little smile across the room, or standing just a tad too close to each other when they’re lined up for something and Violet has never felt this excited to keep something a secret. It’s almost addictive, the rush of adrenaline when they do something risky, something that could get them caught, the fact that only Violet knows what Pearl sounds like when he pleads and how he sinks his teeth or nails into Violet’s skin when he comes and what Violet needs to do with his wrist to drive him crazy, the feeling of superiority and power when another day has gone by and they’ve still managed to fool all of them.

And then the producers want them to do some nonsense shit for the camera to create a dramatic pretty girls versus bitter old bitch brigade or whatever the fuck Kennedy and Ginger call themselves moment and it feels like winning the whole drag Race because they get to interact with each other in ways that aren’t making large eyes at each other and pointing at things with their slightly tilted heads.

They hide in the corner where Pearl keeps all his dresses an pretend to play dress up. It’s actually good, since they get to talk about their last runway looks, Violet thinks because, well, while he enjoys sliding his fingers into Pearl, he’d really like the crown, too.

“How about this one?” Pearl asks, emerging from the bottom of his closet space with a fucking robe and a underdress to go with it.

“Where the fuck did you get that robe?” Violet laughs in disbelief and throws it over his shoulders.

“That is not a robe, you savage bitch,” Pearl gasps overdramatically, “That is a part of my vintage dress.”

“How many times have you gotten fucked in this?” Violet chuckles taking the underdress from Pearl and inspecting it.

“Once or twice,” Pearl laughs shrugging and Violet kinda regrets asking, so he covers his microphone and leans very close to Pearl.

“If you wear that today. I want to blow you after the show while you’re still wearing that,” he whispers.

Pearl kinda chokes on his own spit and Violet has to run away because Natalie has spotted them and is looking furious on the other side of the room.

*

They make it to the top three and Violet wants to burst out crying right there, on the main stage. They’re pushed into the workroom and told to pack their shit and they’re shooting last bits of the behind the scene materials and everything feels so goddamn surreal.

Pearl refuses to get out of drag and Ginger is staring at him like he’s some kind of a weirdo, which is fair, because he is, and Violet is laughing so hard he’s actually crying and the producer tells Pearl that he’s a little bitch and they can’t use anything but the voice from his last behind the scenes bits but they won’t use even that because Pearl sounds like a braindead manatee, which is a little bit unfair but still funny.

“You’re a fucking cunt for making me do that and I fucking hate you,” Pearl says when they’re finally back in Violet’s hotel room that Violet has mentally been referring to as theirs lately.

“Let me make it up to you,” Violet whispers persuasively and Pearl looks a lot less annoyed already.

Violet lets Pearl pull his hair and fuck his mouth and it’s kinda odd because he never thought he’d be into sex in drag yet seeing Pearl moan with his face painted and wig on gives him mental images he well plans on keeping.

That night is the first time Pearl screams his name when he comes and that makes Violet feel warm and fizzy like he hasn’t allowed himself feel in years.

Next morning is spent exchanging salty (Violet’s crying because he’s tired and stressed, that’s all) kisses and quiet promises of I’ll see you very very soon and then they’re all pushed into their respective cars and Violet’s finally homebound.

*

Home is… different. Violet’s not sure if it’s a good different or a bad different, but it’s definitely that. It’s weird, too. A little bit too quiet, a little bit too normal. Violet isn’t used to quiet and normal yet. It’s like time back here had frozen while he was away and now he doesn’t belong here anymore, like he exists somewhere on the outside and he doesn’t remember which way to turn to get back inside.

Quite frankly, he feels empty.

He calls his sister, and then his mom and they don’t get his feeling empty, don’t understand that. They’re happy he’s home and they want to chat about trivial things and he can’t connect with that part of himself, doesn’t know how to, isn’t even sure he wants to.

He throws up after he’s done talking to them and lays on his bathroom floor for hours, cheek pressed against the cold tiles, staring into nothingness.

Pearl texts him that he’s gotten back to New York safe and sound and that’s the last Violet hears of him in weeks.

He curls onto his sofa and calls Fame. He’s up on the farm with his chickens. Violet asks how they’re doing. The chickens are fine, which is probably more than Violet can say about himself.

“Does it ever go away?” Violet asks then. “The emptiness. Does it go away?”

“I should hope it does, eventually,” Fame says, a sad tint to his voice. “I’ll let you know when that happens.”

They’re quiet for a moment and Violet can hear the chickens in the background.

“Have you heard from Pearl?” Violet asks.

“Oh, yeah,. He’s good. Loving life back in New York. Apparently everyone wants to sleep with him and he’s got a music project cooking or something.”

“Oh.”

“What’s wrong?” Fame asks.

“Nothing,” Violet says quickly.

“Wait a moment,” Fame interrupts, “Why am I telling you this? Shouldn’t you be asking Pearl?”

“We had sex,” Violet says.

“Come through,” Fame screams and apparently that phrase is gonna be people’s classic reaction to Violet now. “When?”

“Do you wanna know about the first time, the last time , or all the times inbetween?”

“Well right now I’m curious about the exact timing of the very first time,” Fame says seriously.

“That’s such a fucking weird question, but if you must know, it was right after the leather and lace runway. That same night, to be precise,” Violet shrugs to himself.

“Son of a bitch!” Fame screams. ”So Trix was right after all.”

“What the fuck even?” Violet is very unimpressed.

“You see,” Fame elaborates, “I was sure it happened around week two, but Trixie thought it happened later on during the filming. Max, on the other hand, was convinced that you two were civilised enough to wait until after the filming and, as he put it, wouldn’t’ve dared shag right under RuPaul’s nose. So now we each owe Trixie fifty bucks.”

“You had a fucking bet going on?” Violet asks in pure disbelief.

“Trust, the sexual tension was more real than Kennedy’s struggle,” Fame concludes.

Violet groans into his sofa cushion.

They’re silent for a long while again and Violet listens to the chickens and Fame’s breathing and the lazy spinning of his ceiling fan.

“Are you okay?” Fame asks eventually.

“I just-“ Violet’s voice shakes, so he has to take a deep breath and start again, “I just wasn’t looking for anything.”

Fame hums in understanding.

“I wasn’t looking for anyone and then along comes this magnificent boy and I just… For once, I just thought I’d let myself feel something, and he made me feel so much and I just. I just don’t wanna feel anymore.”

“I don’t really think you can turn it off whenever you decide to,” Fame sighs.

“I think I fell for him,” Violet whispers quietly, not even sure Fame can hear him.

“Oh,” Fame sighs again with a heartbreak in his voice, “My poor baby.”

They fall into silence again, one that Fame breaks soon enough.

“You know, I saw this post on Tumblr that said that you should be with someone who loves you as much as I love chickens.”

It’s so fucking absurd and surprising that Violet bursts into laughter.

“And I just thought that if Pearl can’t see that you’re the most remarkable chicken there has ever been, then he’s in the wrong and you shouldn’t forget that you’re fucking Violet Chachki and you’re a brand, too.”

“Bitch, that was literally the weirdest fucking piece of advice anyone has ever given me,” Violet rolls his eyes, but there’s a smile in his voice.

*

The nasty shit happens a couple months before the finals.

Now, Violet isn’t ashamed of his past, or his body, or his sexuality, and he doesn’t regret anything, and it’s not like the possibility of this happening didn’t cross his mind on multiple occasions. But, giving that, he’s not necessarily excited about several websites posting his solo online at this very point of time. It all causes a havoc Violet isn’t usually opposed to causing, but right now there’s more in the game than there has ever been before. If he’s being completely honest, he’s afraid this is going to affect the outcome of the crowning in a way that he’d rather it didn’t.

and it’s not like he cares what anyone else thinks, but people - not all of them, but still - are being mean and shitty and it just isn’t particularly uplifting right now.

He stops going out and eating, which isn’t really the healthy way to cope with this, and he lets his phone die and rarely charges it. He spends his days either laying in bed, with his curtains closed, or on the sofa, staring at the wall.

He’s a week or so into his self proclaimed banishment from life and he’s sat on his sofa when there’s a knock on his door. Violet doesn’t make any effort to get up and get the door. There’s another knock. If you ignore it long enough, Violet tells himself, it’ll go away.

But the knocking doesn’t stop. On the contrary, it gets louder and more demanding, up to the point where Violet can’t ignore it anymore. He gets up with a sigh and opens the door to find Pearl standing behind it.

Pearl looks so out of place standing in Violet’s hallway, like he’s a perfect stranger who doesn’t belong into this part of Violet’s life, couldn’t possibly fit into it, like he’s too exotic to exist here, where everything is normal and quiet and boring. Yet there’s something so familiar and safe about him it physically hurts Violet, like Pearl is a harbour and Violet’s been lost at the sea for the past 22 years of his life.

They just stare at each other, take each other in and Violet is really hurting.

“I was in the neighbourhood,” Pearl says at last.

“You live in New York, Pearl,” Violet says.

“You’d think that in time it took me to get here, I would have come up with a better ice breaker,” Pearl says sheepishly and offers Violet a little smile.

Violet doesn’t smile back, just steps aside and lets Pearl into his apartment.

“What are you doing here?” Violet asks and wraps his arms around himself, partially in attempt to shield himself from Pearl’s gaze and partially to restrict himself from wrapping all his limbs around Pearl and never letting go.

“Max called me. I think he used something along the lines of You’re a bloody fucktard and Get your head out of your arse and Go on then, mate, he needs you.”

Violet chuckles but it comes out kinda broken and exhausted.

“Have you not been eating?” Pearl asks, checking Violet carefully from head to toe.

“Haven’t been able to get anything down my throat, really,” Violet shrugs and yeah, he’s fully aware of how small he looks cuddled into is oversized sweater.

“Well that must be the first time you have problems swallowing,” Pearl smirks and Violet just shakes his head and touches his eyebrow like he always does when he tries to hide a smile.

Then they’re quiet and Pearl looks around and Violet looks at Pearl, can’t get enough of the sight in front of him, can’t believe that after being so far apart, literally and figuratively, Pearl’s so close he could touch him, can’t really find the right words to say but can’t really keep quiet, either. Can’t really focus on anything else except for the fact that he really did need Pearl, still does, can’t imagine a day he wouldn’t.

“Did you hear what they’re saying?” Violet says eventually.

“Nah, girl, I slept through the whole thing,” Pearl jokes and it’s clear that he knows exactly what Violet’s talking about.

“Did you watch it?” Violet asks.

“Well,” Pearl says, “The thing is I didn’t because I was kinda hoping for a private show.”

“You are such a cunt,” Violet laughs and this time it’s real and it makes Pearl smile and it just feels very very nice.

“I think you’re making it into a bigger deal than it really is, Violet,” Pearl says then. “Like, people aren’t being shady about it. They’re intrigued and scandalised, but they aren’t turned off. They do still like you.” He pauses for a little while and adds with a smirk, “As much as it is possible to like you after your shady ass behaviour they see on TV every week.”

They stare at each other some more.

“Listen, I’ve been such an idiot,” Pearl says at the exact same time as Violet says, “I really missed you.”

Pearl groans at that and takes those few steps that are separating them, closes the distance between them and throws himself at Violet. Violet lets out a whine and embraces Pearl, buries his face in Pearl’s shoulder and breathes in Pearl’s scent, clings to it like his life depends on it, like it’s the only thing that matters at all.

“I just…” Pearl whispers, “For so many years of my life, I was just fucked up and over and taken advantage of by people around me and this is such a shitty ass excuse, but when that happens to a person, when that keeps happening for long enough… Sometimes when that happens and a person isn’t strong enough to take it, to fight it, they start to believe that what’s happening to them is a norm. And I, at some point I just started to believe that that is all I’m worthy of, that’s all I’ll ever be worthy of and that’s all i’ll ever get. I started to believe that that’s all there is for me.”

“I would never,” Violet mumbles into Pearl’s shoulder.

“I know that, in my head. When I rationalise it to myself, I know that not everyone’s out to screw me over. But when it comes to a real deal, I freak out,” Pearl says. “And we started getting close, and you were just there, so at ease and so natural, so easy to be around and I freaked the fuck out waiting for you to get bored with me or whatever and walk away from me so I thought it would be easier if I did it first.”

Violet whimpers.

“And I’m so fucking sorry I thought so little of you, but I just couldn’t trust myself. Can’t trust myself to ever be enough,” Pearl adds.

violet lifts his head off Pearl’s shoulder and looks at him. Pearl’s face looks sad and so beautiful and a little bit what Violet would imagine a heartbreak to look like.

“I don’t know if I can make it better,” he brings his hand to Pearl’s cheek and strokes gently.

“I’m not asking you to,” Pearl says smiling sadly.

“Doesn’t mean I won’t try for the rest of however long you’ll keep me,” Violet promises in a hushed tone.

Pearl hums in agreement and presses Violet close again, slides his one hand up and down Violet’s lower back and presses his fingers into Violet’s shoulder. It feels almost like Pearl’s trying to hold them together, hold himself together, uses Violet as an anchor, and it’s sweet and desperate at the same time.

“I just really like you,” Violet says, plain and simple, honest and raw, without his usual confidence and cockiness.

“I really like you, too,” Pearl whispers and kisses Violet.

And it’s the same familiar lips and tongue, but there’s something very different about the way Pearl’s kissing him. It’s slow and soft and tender, almost like Pearl’s asking for a permission instead of taking Violet the way he has taken him always before.

And Violet gives him all the permission he needs, slightly opens his mouth and lets Pearl’s tongue in, kisses him back and grips onto Pearl with the same level of desperation with which Pearl’s clinging to him.

Pearl starts backing him up, gently and never breaking the contact, and they walk like that, Violet backwards and Pearl securing his every step, all the way to Violet’s bedroom. Violet’s arms are wrapped around Pearl’s neck and Pearl’s holding Violet’s hips, pressing the lower halves of their bodies together and their kisses are still soft and deep and good.

Then Pearl suddenly flips Violet around, presses his lips behind Violet’s ear and Violet tilts his head to give Pearl better access. Pearl’s hands are now playing with the hem of Violet’s sweater, and he starts lifting it up, his fingers hot on Violet’s naked skin, like they’re burning a permanent trail.

Pearl’s lips are gone for the exact amount of time it takes him to take Violet’s shirt off, and then they’re back on Violet’s skin, kissing the nape of his neck, down his spine, and the blade of his shoulders. His. Hands are working Violet’s pants now, pushing them down along with the boxer briefs Violet’s wearing. He helps Violet step out of the pants and flips him around again, so that they’re facing each other, and then he takes a step back and just stares at Violet.

Now Violet has been naked a lot in his life. In different situations, in front of people, and cameras, and on runways and stages. He’s been naked in front of a guy he’s just met in a bar, in front of people who knew him and what to do to make him moan, in front of people who cared for him and in front of those who treated him like a piece of meat, there only to please their every desire. But this, this is so completely different. This is fucking lightyears away from all those other times. It is almost spiritual, how vulnerable and exposed he feels right now.

“Fuck, you look spectacular,” Pearl gasps and takes Violet’s hand, leads him toward the bed an lays him on it, climbs on top of him and kisses Violet again, hand cupping Violet’s cheek gently. Violet spreads his legs and Pearl fits perfectly between them, like life is a puzzle and they’re pieces that belong together.

“You’ve got too much on,” Violet whines and tugs Pearl’s shirt, helps him get undressed, and then it’s just skin on skin. The rest of Pearl’s body is as hot as his hands and Violet can’t get enough of sliding his palm up and down Pearl’s chest and back.

Pearl just keeps kissing him and it’s passionate and heated, but still not hurried nor rushed, like they have all the time in the world. And maybe they do, Violet thinks, maybe they can stay here, in this bed, in this moment forever and just blissfully bask in each other’s presence.

Pearl’s lips leave Violet’s and venture down his body, kiss that spot under Violet’s ear that drivesViolet crazy, press a couple of gentle kisses on Violet’s neck, leave a trail on Violet’s collarbone. He spends a good while kissing, licking, and biting the muscles on Violet’s chest, sucks on his nipples, and slides his tongue down Violet’s stomach, uses the same amount of lips and teeth on Violet’s thighs but ignores Violet’s dick, doesn’t give it the attention it so desperately needs, and then takes the same route back up, finishing at Violet’s lips.

“Do you think…” Pearl starts looking Violet in the eye. “I thought that maybe… Do you want to?”

And yeah, they’ve never done it before, they’ve never gone all the way, and maybe this moment, right there and then, maybe it’s somehow the perfect time for that, so Violet nods vigorously, tries to show Pearl how much he wants this, how much he wants him. Pearl bites his lip and still looks hesitant, so Violet reaches out and blindly rummages through his nightstand drawer.

He hands Pearl the lube and looks at him reassuringly. “Please?”

That’s all the encouragement Pearl needs. He pushes Violet back down onto bed, kisses him and Violet hears the tube being opened somewhere near.

Pearl is still slow and soft with his movements, taking time to warm the lube between his hands before he goes anywhere near Violet’s ass and the sight is so hot and arousing that Violet has to close his eyes for a second. Pearl finally starts to push his finger inside of Violet and he’s careful and gentle, and it’s a fucking torment, because it feels so amazing and Violet just wants it harder and faster.

When Pearl adds another finger, it occurs to Violet. He suddenly knows what’s so different about this time, what’s so different about Pearl, about his pace and touches. It’s so simple actually that it makes Violet want to laugh. Because all the times before this one, they were having sex, they were fucking, and right now they’re making love instead.

Violet waits for this epiphany to scare him, make him jump up and ask Pearl to leave, but it never does. Instead he realises that this might be something that he always wanted but never allowed himself to have.

In a meantime Pearl adds more lube and then another finger and Violet whimpers, tries to push himself down, get more, feel more. Pearl still manages to be patient, tender when he pushes his fingers deeper inside Violet, scissors him open little by little. And then his fingers brush over that certain spot and Violet’s vision blurs out for a moment.

“Please,” Violet cries out.

Pearl hits that spot again, and again and brings his other hand to Violet’s dick, gives him the friction he so desperately desires and strokes firmly and Violet has to stop him before it’s too late.

“Don’t,” he whines, “I wanna come with you.”

“Tell me how you want it,” Pearl whispers into his ear, fingers still scissoring Violet open.

“I want… I need you inside of me. I need it, Pearl, please. I want you to fuck me senseless.”

Pearl groans at that and slides his fingers out of Violet and the loss of contact is so sudden, so disappointing that Violet whines again.Pearl still doesn’t rush his movements, but the way his hand shake when he slicks himself with lube tells Violet that he’s growing inpatient , too.

Violet swears he has never been this well prepped, but Pearl is still infuriatingly careful when he slides into Violet. He keeps his thrusts shallow and it’s amazing but it’s still not enough and Violet wants more, wants all of it and then some.

“Pearl, please,” he hisses, “I need it harder. I can take it harder.”

And apparently even Pearl’s god given self-control has its limits, because he snaps his hips, thrusts harder, deeper, until he’s all the way inside of Violet and Violet thinks he might cry and then Pearl pulls all the way out and thrusts all the way in again and Violet actually lets out a sob.

Pearl starts moving and there’s nothing careful about his thrusts now and Violet takes it, loves it so much he feels overwhelmed by it, thinks that right now, with the length of Pearl inside of him and the weight of Pearl on top of him, he’s more complete than he’s ever been in his life so far.

Some nonsense escapes Violet’s lips, but Pearl is right there to catch it, kiss Violet quiet and muffle all the gasps and moans that Violet’s producing.

“Yes, yes, more, please, so good,” Violet lets out as soon as Pearl’s lips leave his, “Harder, just, please, harder.”

And Pearl obeys, pushes inside Violet harder and faster, fucks him into the mattress and it’s not long until his thrusts become erratic, out of any rhythm, almost feral. He grabs Violet’s dick, leaking heavily between them and it only takes few strokes until Violet’s coming, screaming, and Pearl snaps his hips once again and then he’s coming, too.

It takes them both a moment to recover enough to move and Pearl pulls carefully out of Violet and collapses next to him. Violet is so out of it that he temporarily loses his ability to produce any kind of sound, let alone something that would make sense, and Pearl’s still gasping for air. They just lay there, trying to catch their breath.

“You’re not gonna disappear if I fall asleep now, are you?” Violet says finally. It was meant to be a joke, but he’s not entirely sure he’s able to hide the insecure note of his tone.

“Home isn’t exactly three doors down anymore,” Pearl says and pats Violet’s face like Violet had patted his all those months ago.

“That’s what scares me,” Violet says and turns on his side. Pearl turns, too, so that they’re facing each other.

“Listen, you’re kinda stuck with me now,” he says.

“Promise?”

“Until we’re as tired and grey as Max’s wigs and you’re sick of my stupid shit,” Pearl promises with a straight face.

“I like the sound of that,” Violet smiles.

Pearl just flips him around and spoons him.

“I brought the robe with me,” he says nonchalantly.

“I thought it wasn’t a robe.”

“Shush,” Pearl whispers into Violet’s ear, “If you’ll be good, I’ll wear it and let you bend me over the kitchen table and fuck me.”

Violet moans at the mere mental image of that.

*

Violet wakes up with a groan and turns from side to side to face an empty side of the bed. He groans again and reaches out his hand, patting the sheets, but they still remain empty.

There’s sounds at the hotel room door, like someone’s trying to open it with their hands a bit too full and then the door beeps like it always does when the key card is presented to it, and Violet is greeted with a smell of fresh coffee.

“Good morning, pumpkin,” Pearl singsongs and comes in, balancing two coffee cups, a paper bag, and the key card in is hands. “I went to get us some coffee. I think that barista is seriously flirting with me. There’s a heart on my cup and nothing on yours.”

“Did it ever occur to you that that’s because you order yours for Matt and mine for Violet?“ Violet chuckles, his voice still hoarse from sleep.

Pearl laughs, puts coffees and a paper bag on the nightstand next to the bed and pecks a kiss on Violet’s lips.

“If only she knew my girlfriend Violet has a penis,” he says happily and sits on the bed. “Are you excited for tonight, pumpkin?”

“Nervous,” Violet says and sips his coffee. It’s just the way he loves it, just the way it has been every morning for the last couple of months.

Pearl threads his fingers through Violet’s hair and hums. “It’s gonna be perfect.”

“What if neither of us is crowned tonight?” Violet asks.

“I won’t mind, really,” Pearl shrugs and retrieves his coffee.

“You won’t?” Violet raises his eyebrow. “How come?”

“I kinda already got what I wanted,” Pearl shrugs again.

“Did they call you? A tour?” Violet sits up, excited and eager.

“Nah, no, nothing like that,” Pearl smiles at him.

“What is it, then? I know they probably told you not to say anything, but come on now, I won’t tell.”

“I mean,” Pearl says, “It’s kind of rare so I won’t be surprised if you haven’t heard of it. Or it’s not even rare, to be honest. It’s actually a one of a kind collectible, Violet Chachki.”

Violet bursts out laughing and kicks Pearl out of the bed.

“Oh, my god,” he shouts. “You’re such a cheesy fuck.”

“Uh-huh,” Pearl says and grabs two of his wigs. “I still haven’t decided which one to wear tonight.”

And then he’s off to model wigs in front of the mirror, and Violet watches him leave the room with a large goofy smile on his lips.

“Do you think Alaska will be there? I’m dying to meet him,” Pearl shouts from the bathroom.

“I’m sure you’ll love him,” Violet shouts back. “I’m sure he’ll love you, too.”

”Sickening,” Pearl giggles.

And maybe Violet throws himself back onto bed and muffles his squeak and idiotic smile with a pillow that smells of Pearl, but no one’s there to witness it.

[sicklylittlesnowflake]

Could u do a riverdale fix where jellybean comes back to visit but jughead gets really sick and try's to hide it from her but she finds out anyway and takes care of him?

(Omfg let me tell u how much I loved this prompt. This was some good shit!! One of my fav tropes is older brother who loves his lil sibling and hates showing his weaker side!!! Also, this took a while, and I’m sorry, because I lost track and this ended up longer than expected! So sorry for the delay!)

There were three and a half things that made Jughead happy, the stars in his dark night sky of a life. Archie Andrews, Burgers, his dad half of the time, and of course, his beautiful sister, Jellybean.

Jughead was no stranger to misfortunes and heartache. His life was just a series of unfortunate events and emotional turmoil. With his father in jail, and undeservedly so,  at least not for that much time, in his opinion, and him feeling unwanted in the Andrews house, his mother basically telling him to fuck off, and his increasingly worsening depression and anxiety.

Jughead could barely get out of bed (or rather the garage couch) these days, and only really left when Archie came over worried out of his mind.  He just felt so empty and lonely, despite Archie being there. He appreciated Archie, he really did, and was so grateful for this ray of sunshine but his heart was yearning for family.

When his phone rang at a strange hour, he expected some wrong number of some sort. However, when he heard the sound of a sweet, little girl’s voice Jughead felt this surge of happiness that he hadn’t felt in so long, and in that second he felt whole.

“Juggie?! This better be you because I stole this number off mom–”

“Yes, yes, JB, it’s me, it’s me!”

They spent the night talking and catching up–Jughead just cherishing the sound of her voice, like it could all just disappear from him again. He listened to her stories about random things, new shows she liked, whatever. He had missed her so much; he had always been aware of the hole in his heart from her absence, but he had only realised the size of it in that moment. He had been so afraid of losing her, one of the few things that made him happy, and he was sure he was losing her but she was right here. She was here, and tears started to trickle down his cheeks, and for the first time in forever they were tears of joy.

It took Jellybean three consecutive nights of screaming and crying, but it was finally decided she would take the long weekend to see Jughead.

Of course, Jughead’s mom refused to come, some excuse about work, but of course Jughead knew it wasn’t about that. However, he wasn’t even thinking about his mom, because he was too busy thinking about Jellybean.

Fred was off doing something for work that weekend, so he offered to let Jellybean use his room whilst he was gone. Archie had been helping Jughead plan activities and foods to buy, and what movies to watch. Each day leading up to the Friday Evening she’d arrive was agonisingly slow. It was like Jughead’s life was actually cooperating.

But of course on the Thursday, Jughead woke up at 4 in the morning to a relentless and never ending sneezing fit.

Archie was up in an instant, grabbing a box of tissues from his drawer, a few left from the last time Jughead was sick (which wasn’t too long ago, at all) and offered them to him once the fit had ended.

Jughead sniffled hard and accepted the tissues gratefully, pressing them against his nose and rubbing irritably. He looked up to see Archie’s concerned gaze, and when the redhead was about to speak he cut him off.

“Archie–I’m fine,” Jughead pressed, and gave his nose one last run before flopping back against his bed and pulling the blankets over him, knocked out in a second.

Archie sighed, whispering to himself, “This is what you get for sleeping in the garage..”

However he did lightly press a hand against Jughead’s cheek, which was slightly warm. He frowned, knowing what was coming and left the tissue box next to him just in case, before heading back to sleep.

Needless to say, Jughead was not looking his best the next morning.

“Well–I hope you and Jughead have a good weekend, so as per usual, be safe, don’t do anything stupid. This is really good for Jughead, he really needs this,” Fred chatted idly, walking around doing various things.

Archie nodded, drinking his OJ but looking slightly concerned.

“Wait, what’s up, Arch?” Fred asked, but Archie didn’t even have to reply because Jughead walked into the kitchen that moment looking horrible.

“Oh no,” Fred muttered under his breath. This again.

Jughead approached the breakfast bar to sit when he was interrupted by a powerful sneeze that bended him at the waist, making Archie slightly startled.

“Excuse me,” Jughead said in embarrassment, rubbing a finger under his nose.

Fred walked up to the boy and went to feel his forehead when Jughead ducked away. Fred glared at the boy and put his hand on anyway, despite his protests and groaning.

“Yep, definitely warm..oh god, now I don’t want to leave you–”

“I’m fine, Mr Andrews, really,” Jughead protested.

“He’s not fine dad,” Archie insisted, “..but..I can do this, dad. I’ve done this a million times before, and if there is an emergency, the Coopers are next door.”

Fred sighed, “Just make sure he doesn’t die, Archie. I don’t trust him to keep himself alive, and also you’re both staying home from school today. Jughead, you need as much rest as possible until Jellybean comes home tonight, okay?”

The thought made Jughead smile amidst all the discomfort and pain of his illness, and while Archie was happy for his best friend, he was also worried.

Jughead was not any better by the time they had to leave for the bus station. Jughead would sneeze every minute, and he started to develop this chesty cough. Walking to the bus stop in this winter weather would not help Jughead at all.

Jughead would be taken over by a harsh fit of sneezing every minute or so, his nose changing from a shade of pink to deep red every time. Archie was just thankful he had thought to bring some tissues for him.

“Bless you–Jug, listen–”

“I’m fine, Archie,” Jughead pressed again, firm and strong in tone.

Archie sighed, normally he wouldn’t let Jughead win, but he knew that it would rip Jughead to shreds if he tried to take this away from him. Jughead was hurting, and it seemed Jellybean was the only thing that could take all that pain away, even if just for a little while. Anything to make his best friend feel happy again.

He just hoped he’d be okay.

Jughead waited anxiously for the bus to arrive, checking his watch every few seconds. He wrung his hands, bounced his leg, bit his lip, whatever he could to fidget. Heck, Archie was anxious for him.

Then, the bus from Toledo arrived, pulling into the parking lot. Jughead jumped out of his seat and ran over to the bus door, and waited as people began to pour out and suddenly, his body froze as he saw her.

Jellybean thanked the bus driver cheerily, and she turned to go down, and then she saw him. God, she grew even more beautiful. Her hair has grown a few more inches, and she was wearing a Pink Floyd tee and the Pearl Jam backpack Jughead had given to her for her birthday.

When her eyes landed on Jughead, her eyes widened and her entire face lit up, she looked so happy and lively that Jughead’s heart lit with a passionate fire.

She ran down the stairs and leaped out of the bus into Jughead’s open arms, squealing with happiness. She held her older brother tight, squeezing him with so much love, love that Jughead had been yearning for for so long.

Holding her in his arms like this felt like a distant memory, like a fantasy, a dream that was finally coming true. It felt too fantastical to be possibly true, and he felt little tears pricking his eyes and he struggled to keep them from pouring out of his eyes. He sniffled softly.

“You’re home, you’re home..” he croaked out, voice cracking with emotion, and with his sickness.

“So my best friend Alison is great at football–you would love her Archie–and she’s nothing like you and I Jug, she’s very different to me. But we still work, like you and Archie!” She chatted happily, holding onto her brother’s hand as they walked home from the bus stop. She still knew the way well.

Jughead smiled at her, “That’s so gre..g…hehh..”

Jughead turned away from her and sneezed loudly into his elbow, trying to restrain the sound but only succeeding in increasing the power of it and hurting his throat.

Jellybean jumped, “Bless you! You only sneeze like that when–”

Her eyes narrowed, “Juggie..”

Jughead smirked and shook his head. “Nah, you just smell awful, that’s all!” He teased, ruffling her hair only for her to whine, laughing and punching his arm.

Archie laughed with them, but felt concerned all the same.

Jellybean climbed up onto Fred’s bed and bounced on it, relishing how big the bed was, spreading out like she was a snow angel.

Jughead smiled, her giggles music to his ears. He couldn’t believe he had been deprived of this beauty for so long.

Suddenly he was snapped out of his thoughts by a prickle in his sinuses, and he tried to subtlely pinch at his nose to avoid it, and managed to ward it off for the time being.

Eventually she was curled up in bed, understandably tired, it was 12:30 am, and they’d spent the last few hours catching up and joking around.

Jughead approached her and sat at the edge of the bed, “Night, JB..”

Jellybean sat up and opened her arms, “Good night, Juggy!”

Jughead smiled softly and embraced her, holding her close, and she locked him in the embrace, refusing to let him go. It was such a lovely and warm moment.

But of course this was Jughead’s life so of course his nose began to tickle yet again.

He tried to pull away, when of course she wouldn’t let go, and he panicked, managing to clamp his hands over the lower half of his face and fell into a sneezing fit, his body shaking and racked with the force of the fit.

Once he finished, Jellybean let him go.

“..Jug..are you sick?”

Jughead sniffled wetly and shook his head, “No, no, just some dust in the air.”

Jellybean looked suspicious, but dropped it and gave him one last hug before heading off to sleep.

Jughead made his way over to Archie’s bedroom, and as he made his presence known, a packet of pills and a glass of water was being thrust in his face.

“Woah, Andrews,” Jughead blinked, rubbing at his nose as he took the supplies gratefully. He opened a packet and popped a pill into his mouth and swallowed.

Archie glared, “I gave you the water to avoid hurting your throat further.”

Jughead rolled his eyes, “I am a renowned pill popper, Archie, I think I’ll be fine.”

Archie rolled his eyes and patted at his bed, “you’re taking the bed tonight.”

Jughead shook his head profusely, “No! I’ve slept in your bed more times than you have these past few months, this is so unfair on you Archie–id rather take the couch..”

His sentence trailed off as his nose itched again, and his breath began to hitch as he desperately grabbed for a tissue, just barely enough time to cover his nose with the tissue and stifle 5 sneezes into it.

Archie frowned, “Why’d you hold them in? That’s not good for you!”

“I didn’t want Jellybean to hear!” Jughead replied, blowing his nose into the tissue.

Archie groaned, “You are impossible, Jug. You can’t hide this from her, she’s not stupid, she’s smart and you know that!”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to ruin this Archie! I ruin everything! I haven’t seen her for 8 months, Archie! It’s two days, Archie, I have her for two days and god knows when the next time I’ll see her! Will there even be a next time?! Seeing as how my life is going–”

Archie pulled the smaller boy in for a hug to shut him up, embracing the smaller boy and filling him with warmth and love.

“Jug, stop this, you’re tired, and emotional, you should just get some rest. You need as much rest as you can so you’re in the best shape you can be tomorrow, even if that’s..not 100%, you need some rest,” Archie whispered caringly.

Jughead nodded softly, sniffling a little, rubbing at his reddened nose and pulled away to give Archie a soft smile.

Archie looked at him kindly, “..on a proper bed, at least..?”

Jughead sighed, giving in as he climbed up onto Archie’s bed and snuggled into the covers, falling into a peaceful slumber.

For the most part at least, excluding the parts where he kept on waking up to sneeze and cough.

Jughead woke up at 7:20 the next morning, feeling like absolute shit.

His head was pounding and he couldn’t breathe out of his nose, and his throat felt so sore like nails were currently scratching it. He felt exhausted; but once he remembered his little sister was in the same house as him, he got up excitedly, only to groan at the head rush he received at the action.

“Jug?!” Archie yelped, waking up, overly worried.

Jughead shook his head, “Just a headache–anyway, we have to go make Jellybean breakfast! She loves pancakes and maple syrup..oh, and with bacon! C'mon!”

Archie grabbed the boy and shook his head, “medicine first.”

Jughead pouted, much like a little child, which made Archie laugh, and did as he was told, and then proceeded to make his way down to the kitchen to cook his little sister a meal, like he used to when their family was still whole.

“Rise and shine, sunshine,” Jughead joked, as he saw his sister emerging into the kitchen, already dressed in jeans and a jumper. She beamed at him, but then took a second to realise how congested her brother sounded.

“You swallow a frog, or something Jug?” She teased, hauling herself up onto the chair for the breakfast bar and beamed at the food.

“My favourite! You remembered..”

“Of course I remembered, it’s not like I’ve cooked this a million times,” Jughead said, rolling his eyes and sitting down next to Archie, who was chowing down on his food.

A tickle in his throat caused him to stifle a cough, and drink some OJ to stop the incoming fit, causing Archie and Jellybean to raise an eyebrow.

Stories were shared as food was eaten, and eventually the three finished their meals. Well, two and half. Jughead hadn’t eaten much at all; only one pancake and one piece of bacon compared to Archie and Jellybean who had eaten triple that.

“C'mon, let’s go do something, shall we? I’d love to take you the drive in, JB, but it’s gone,” Jughead said, with a hint of bitterness in his voice.

Jellybean would’ve been upset by that, and she was, but she was more concerned for her brother who sounded like a dying cat.

Just as Jughead was pulling on his thick, winter coat, a tickle in his nose caused him to stop dead, the tickle so intense his entire body was taken over by it. He hitched, nose quivering with anticipation until the eventual release, of a harsh and powerful lasting 8 sneezes.

The sheer force of the fit caused him to bend over, holding onto the wall as he sneezed to support himself. Archie was over at his side, holding him steady as he sneezed.

When it was over, he felt his knees buckling but tried to ignore it by holding onto Archie. He turned around to see Jellybean’s concerned gaze.

“Juggy, you’re sick.”

“No, I’m not–” Jughead fell into a harsh coughing fit, his chest convulsing, and he started to feel extremely dizzy, and extremely light headed. His knees buckled, unable to support him any longer and Archie scrambled to catch him, clutching him tightly as to not let him fall.

Jellybean smiled at him softly, “Juggy, I heard you coughing and sneezing last night. It’s okay, don’t worry, we all get sick..”

“No! I’m not ruining this for us, I planned to go to the Bijou to watch this double feature–of Stand By Me and ET, and I don’t want to ruin this, Jellybean! It’s been so long, and I’m not missing any moment of this because I was so dumb to catch a cold–”

“Jug! I don’t need a huge celebration; I came back here because I want to be with you. I’m here for you, just you. I could not care less if it was you in some Vanity Fair Party or you eating some popcorn with me while watching the TV. You’re enough for me, that’s all I want,” Jellybean said softly.

Jughead sniffled, “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. I just want you to be my brother, like old times, being normal. I want it to be simple, Jughead, just the three of us watching movies on the television. Eating snacks, drinking soda,” She pleaded.

Archie nodded, “She’s right, Jug. C'mon, I’ll get you to the couch and we can go pick out some movies for a marathon!”

Jughead gave her a small smile and nodded, finally giving in and allowing Archie to lead him away to the couch.

He was beginning to wonder what took her so long when Jellybean barged into the living room, dumping a huge pile of fluffy, warm blankets and about a dozen pillows. The two boys blinked, unsure of how this tiny girl managed to carry all of that.

She grinned, and ran back to the kitchen and returned with a few packets of chips, candy and a steaming mug of tea. She placed the mug into Jughead’s hands, and as the warmth transferred onto his shaking hands he couldn’t help but sigh in relief.

Jughead smelled the tea, and blinked, then a wide smile began to play on his lips.

“..it’s the tea you always made me when I was sick..”

Jellybean grinned, “Yeah, and you’re sick now, so as per usual, I made you this tea.”

Jughead chucked, and pulled the girl close to him, underneath the blankets. She pulled him close and let him rest his head on her shoulder, filling him with warmth and love.

It wasn’t quite the day he had expected, but it was even better. Just like this, with two of the best people in the world, who loved him, and who he loved too.

[almightygodismydependence-blog]

The Aftermath of My Husband’s Affair

Lu Lu Anhui Province

In the middle of the night around 12:00 a.m., Lu Lu was staring at the computer screen, not daring to believe that what it displayed was a list of her husband’s expenses from the last few months: a few hundred yuan on women’s clothing at a department store, over a thousand yuan on a bottle of imported alcohol from a high-end liquor store … Seeing this list of numbers, Lu Lu collapsed into the chair and felt a taste of despair for the first time in her life. She never could have imagined that her husband who had been through thick and thin with her would suddenly betray her. Her sister-in-law’s kind warning came to mind: “Lu Lu, aren’t you afraid that my brother will do something disrespectful to you while he’s away?” Her response was, “I couldn’t say what others might do, but your brother isn’t that kind of person.” Her air of confidence at that time surfaced in her memory—faced with the bitter truth in that moment, it really felt like a mockery. The truth, hard as nails, completely obliterated the last line of defense in Lu Lu’s heart, and tears rolled down her cheek one after another, like a string of pearls. She hoped so fervently that this was a delusion and so longed to return to the wonderful times of the past, to the nostalgia of their innocent love. …

When they first met, Lu Lu’s husband was still in his second year of college. As they got to know each other, Lu Lu found him to be an honest, kind person and she couldn’t help but develop feelings for him. Every weekend he took a bus for over an hour to go chat with her. They always had a wonderful time talking to each other and the time flew by. She remembered one time, after winning a 5,000 yuan scholarship, he carefully arranged a big meal and recited a poem he had written for her. Lu Lu was totally enveloped in the sweetness of love, and in spite of both of their families’ firm opposition, they resolutely held fast to their feelings for each other. In 2007, they finally walked down the aisle. From then on, he became Lu Lu’s rock, and she rejoiced that their love had had this outcome because of their persistence. Countless times, she quietly told herself: Cherish this marriage for my entire life so that I can always live with such joy, such happiness.

The little things saw Lu Lu through several lonely years of her husband working away from home. Although in the home she was frequently faced with her father-in-law’s bad attitude and nitpicking, and would often go cry in secret from feeling wronged, she still loved her husband, blemishes and all and did what a good wife ought to do. Although the combined pressures of both work and home made Lu Lu feel that her spirit was willing but her flesh was weak, all of her exhaustion and unhappiness dissolved in the face of her joy in expecting her husband’s return and her daughter’s innocent, guileless smile.

Lu Lu’s thoughts returned to that computer. In that moment, no matter how much she tried to focus on those wonderful things from the past, they didn’t bring her a shred of comfort. On the contrary, they brought her heart-rending pain. She didn’t know where her path would take her after that night or how she could face those around her. She felt she had suddenly become the world’s most grief-stricken person. Lu Lu’s heart suddenly welled with fear, afraid to face what was coming, and she even had thoughts of leaving this world altogether so that she wouldn’t need to face the cruel truth. …

The wind blowing at the window with a sudden “bang” broke the silence of the night, and Lu Lu instinctively looked at her child, deep in sleep beside her. Her daughter’s innocent face reminded Lu Lu: You’re a mother. You cannot be weak—you have a child to care for. Thinking of this, she dispelled all terrible notions and resolved to take their child and go find her husband. Even though she didn’t know what would be waiting for her—perhaps those inappropriate sentiments would be ended before long, or perhaps there would be a different outcome—she was awaiting the judgment of her destiny.

The next day after Lu Lu had done her best to put herself in a positive state of mind, she told her parents-in-law about her husband and her plan to take their daughter to go find him. Everyone in the family advised her to forgive him this once for the sake of the child, and her heart softened. She thought: For the child, for our family, I’ll try to forgive him! So armed with her last shred of hope she started off on her long road in an attempt to salvage her love and marriage.

On the long-distance bus, her mother-in-law said earnestly and gravely: “Lu Lu, marriage isn’t a game. Take my word for it, no matter what happens you need to have a good talk when you meet with him. Everyone makes mistakes when they’re young.” Lu Lu glanced at her daughter, sleeping sweetly, and said heavily, “I know, Mom.” Her mother-in-law seemed greatly reassured by this, letting out a breath. However, Lu Lu still felt deeply unsettled—she had a hope that her husband could explain things clearly to her, but on the other hand, she was afraid of facing the scary truth. Lu Lu watched row after row of small trees speeding by outside of the window and thought to herself: Once this ball is rolling, I don’t know if it can come back to where it started.

When she got off the bus Lu Lu dialed that phone number, so very familiar to her, but her husband wouldn’t pick up for a long time. She and his mother had no choice but to go to his office where they learned that he was about to resign. Lu Lu had a bad feeling in the face of this shock. Her husband finally made his appearance after being persuaded by his colleagues. Seeing the furtive look in his eyes, Lu Lu realized that he was intentionally avoiding her and had not wanted to answer the phone. The truth was devastating. Her mother-in-law was unable to hold back her anger, pointing her finger at her son and scolding him: “You worthless son! You think you’re really something out here and don’t care about your family anymore, is that it? Do you want to keep on living, or what?” He hung his head and didn’t say a word. Lu Lu held back her tears and the blame in her heart, looked at her husband, and forcibly steadied her feelings saying calmly: “I’m not here to fight with you. Considering the situation and that I came so far to find you, don’t you owe me an explanation?” Then, he lifted up his head and said, unperturbed: “I’ve let you down.” Upon hearing those words from her husband, Lu Lu could no longer hold back—tears spilled out and she said, choked with sobs: “I never thought you would betray our family. You gave me such a beautiful dream, but now you have destroyed that dream with your own hands. … We should say our goodbyes with no hard feelings.” He said, “I’ve never wanted a divorce!” Her husband’s words gave rise to a flash of both anger and hope in Lu Lu’s heart, and she said: “If you don’t want a divorce, then leave that woman!” “I don’t want to leave her either.” She gave her husband a look of bewilderment while her mother-in-law stood up, ready to hit her son until Lu Lu held her back. Looking at her husband, he seemed like a stranger while he looked back at her, at a loss. He said: “Don’t look at me that way. Isn’t this kind of thing normal now? I’m not the only one—my boss has women on the side too!” Lu Lu could hardly believe her ears and she glared back at this man who had suddenly become a stranger and was impervious to all reason. She really couldn’t understand how things had gotten to that point in just a few years’ time. Seeing her husband’s wooden expression, it didn’t seem that he was going to explain anything. She then knew with certainty that their love and marriage could never go back to what it had been.

Lu Lu took her child and returned from that painful journey. After returning home she removed all records of her husband’s contact information. She determined to say goodbye to yesterday’s nightmare and steel herself to work for the sake of her and her child’s future. However, late every night when the world was still, the grief and loneliness in her heart would always sneak up on her, and her feelings of confusion, being lost, and endless pain would stab at her delicate spirit. She wanted so badly for someone to soothe her heart’s wounds.

Just as she was struggling with this pain, God’s salvation of the last days came upon her. God stretched out His warm, mighty hand, saving her from the abyss of her pain and telling her who had stolen away the love they had shared.

One day, Lu Lu saw a passage of God’s words: “One after another, all these trends carry an evil influence that continually degenerates man, causing them to continually lose conscience, humanity and reason, and that lowers their morals and their quality of character more and more, to the extent that we can even say the majority of people now have no integrity, no humanity, neither do they have any conscience, much less any reason. So what are these trends? You cannot see these trends with the naked eye. When the wind of a trend blows through, perhaps only a small number of people will become the trendsetters. They start off doing this kind of thing, accepting this kind of idea or this kind of perspective. The majority of people, however, in the midst of their unawareness, will still be continually infected, assimilated and attracted by this kind of trend, until they all unknowingly and involuntarily accept it, and are all submerged in and controlled by it” (“God Himself, the Unique VI” in The Word Appears in the Flesh).

These words resolved the bewilderment and confusion in Lu Lu’s heart. She had never been able to understand how her husband who had always been so simple and straightforward, could become so worldly-wise and cold, to the point that he lacked even the most basic moral bottom line. It turned out that it was the toxicity, the corruption brought by evil trends of Satan that led her husband to lose his humanity and conscience so that he only thought of satisfying his own flesh, thinking nothing of their years of a loving marriage, or considering or planning for their child. She thought of when her husband had just finished college, when he was so trustworthy, but now that he had been poisoned by evil sayings and absurdities spread by Satan such as “Having a wife or husband at home but also taking a lover.” That simple, glowing young man was nowhere to be seen, and in his place was a shameless man sullied by evil trends. Many people in modern society accept these negative things as if they are positive—her husband was just one of many victims of Satan’s corruption. At first, Lu Lu thought that it was just her husband’s betrayal that had been so painful for her, but she came to understand through God’s words that Satan was the culprit who had brought about such pain for her.

Lu Lu later read these words from God: “Whenever Satan corrupts man or engages in unbridled harm, God does not stand idly by, neither does He brush aside or turn a blind eye to those He has chosen. All that Satan does is perfectly clear and understood by God. No matter what Satan does, no matter what trend it causes to arise, God knows all that Satan is trying to do, and God does not give up on those He has chosen. Instead, without attracting any attention, secretly, silently, God does everything that is necessary” (“God Himself, the Unique VI” in The Word Appears in the Flesh). “So what exactly does God give to man? Does He only give you a little care, concern and consideration when you are not paying attention? What has God given to man? God has given life to man, given man everything, and bestows on man unconditionally without demanding anything, without any ulterior intention. He uses the truth, uses His words, uses His life to lead and guide man, bringing man away from the harm of Satan, away from Satan’s temptations, away from Satan’s seduction and allowing man to see clearly through Satan’s evil nature and its hideous face” (“God Himself, the Unique IV” in The Word Appears in the Flesh).

Lu Lu was so moved by God’s words that her entire face was wet with tears. She understood that even though Satan is continually corrupting and harming human beings, and it seems that the entire world is just lying in the hands of the evil one, that we are in utter darkness, the truth is that God has a grasp on everything. God knows Satan’s tricks and knows its tactics for laying waste to mankind. He particularly knows how miniscule and wretched humans are and He never stops paying the price for mankind. In order to save us, God became flesh, enduring wrongs and humiliations; He uttered words, bestowing the truth upon us so that we could gain discernment regarding Satan’s evil essence, and distance ourselves from the harm done by evil satanic trends. From start to finish, God has been the One saving us! Lu Lu couldn’t help but recall that ever since she learned of her husband’s betrayal, she had just been living within pain and despair and had even lost hope for the rest of her life. She no longer believed that there is true love in this world and the entire world became cold and gray in her eyes. Even standing under the sunshine she didn’t feel any warmth, but just wanted to get through each day so she would have one less in front of her, until the end of her days…. If God’s salvation hadn’t come just in time, there was no telling what her current state would be. She then deeply felt that God had been by her side all along, that He had never been far from her. In her darkest time, God’s words illuminated the path in front of her just like a lantern, soothing her injured soul and helping her gain clarity on everything and come out from the haze. In the midst of these evil trends of the world, it was God who was always silently supporting her and protecting her from being swallowed up by Satan. All that God does is love and salvation. Lu Lu felt true peace and joy deep in her heart and discovered that what she had lost counted for nothing because what she had gained was the most precious gift God could bestow/had bestowed—His salvation.

After that Lu Lu enthusiastically read the words of God and participated in the life of the church. Seeing how straightforward interactions between brothers and sisters were, how free and unrestrained fellowship on God’s words was in gatherings, and the relaxed, happy, and positive atmosphere was deeply encouraging to her. A long-awaited smile emerged on her face. Gradually, she came to understand that romantic love wasn’t all she had to live for, that only by worshiping and praising God could her soul be truly at peace and steady, and that that is the greatest joy. Before long Lu Lu was performing the duties she was able to within the warm family of the church. To this day, Lu Lu still frequently hums her favorite hymn of God’s words: “Regardless of whether you have felt it before, God is caring for every person in every possible way, using His sincere heart, wisdom, and various methods to warm each person’s heart, and awaken each person’s spirit. This is an indisputable fact” (“God’s Perfect Care Over All” in Follow the Lamb and Sing New Songs). Lu Lu’s spirit has been reawakened. Gathering with brothers and sisters to worship God and performing her duty, she feels a kind of peace and joy she never experienced before. She is clear in her heart that all of this has been bestowed on her by God.

[bestofrepices]

Skinnytaste Meal Plan (May 13-May 19)

posted May 11, 2019 by Gina

A free 7-day flexible weight loss meal plan including breakfast, lunch and dinner and a shopping list. All recipes include calories and WW SmartPoints®.

This week’s plan has a recipe from my new cookbook, The Skinnytaste Air Fryer Cookbook. Cheesy Green Chile Chicken Chimichangas. They are so good, my family is obsessed! If you don’t have the book, you can actually see a photo of the chimichanga recipe on Amazon by clicking on the photo where it says look inside.

If you’re new to my meal plans, I’ve been sharing these free, 7-day flexible healthy meal plans (you can see my previous meal plans here) that are meant as a guide, with plenty of wiggle room for you to add more food, coffee, beverages, fruits, snacks, dessert, wine, etc or swap recipes out for meals you prefer, you can search for recipes by course in the index. You should aim for around 1500 calories* per day.

There’s also a precise, organized grocery list that will make grocery shopping so much easier and much less stressful. Save you money and time. You’ll dine out less often, waste less food and you’ll have everything you need on hand to help keep you on track.

Lastly, if you’re on Facebook join my Skinnytaste Facebook Community where everyone’s sharing photos of recipes they are making, you can join here. I’m loving all the ideas everyone’s sharing! If you wish to get on the email list, you can subscribe here so you never miss a meal plan!

Also, if you don’t have the Skinnytaste Meal Planner, now would be a great time to get one to get organized for 2019! There was a print error last year, but it’s perfect now! You can order it here!

(embed)https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X6RZHTD9AM4(/embed)

THE DETAILS:

Breakfast and lunch Monday-Friday, are designed to serve 1 while dinners and all meals on Saturday and Sunday are designed to serve a family of 4. Some recipes make enough leftovers for two nights or lunch the next day. While we truly believe there is no one size fits all meal plan, we did our best to come up with something that appeals to a wide range of individuals. Everything is Weight Watchers friendly, I included the updated Weight Watcher Freestyle Points for your convenience, feel free to swap out any recipes you wish or just use this for inspiration!

The grocery list is comprehensive and includes everything you need to make all meals on the plan. I’ve even included brand recommendations of products I love and use often. Cross check your cabinets because many condiments you’ll notice I use often, so you may already have a lot of them.

And last, but certainly not least, this meal plan is flexible and realistic. There’s plenty of wiggle room for cocktails, healthy snacks, dessert and dinner out. And if necessary, you can move some things around to make it work with your schedule. Please let me know if you’re using these plans, this will help me decide if I should continue sharing them!

MONDAY (5/13) B: Overnight Oats in a Jar (5) L: BBQ Chicken Salad (2) (Recipe x2)* D: Angel Hair Pasta with Zucchini and Tomatoes (7) with a green salad (2)* Totals: Freestyle SP 16, Calories 889**

TUESDAY (5/14) B: Bali Banana Date Smoothie (5) L: BBQ Chicken Salad (2) D: Cheesy Green Chili Chicken Chimichangas (6) with Instant Pot Refried Beans (0)*** Totals: Freestyle SP 13, Calories 877**

WEDNESDAY (5/15) B: Overnight Oats in a Jar (5) L: BBQ Chicken Salad (2) D: Quick Garlic-Lime Marinated Pork Chops (5) with Corn Tomato Avocado Salad (3) Totals: Freestyle SP 15, Calories 836**

THURSDAY (5/16) B: Bali Banana Date Smoothie (5) L: BBQ Chicken Salad (2) D: Grilled Flank Steak with Chimichurri (5) with ¾ cup brown rice (5) and 1 ounce avocado (1)

Totals: Freestyle SP 18, Calories 877**

FRIDAY (5/17) B: 2 scrambled eggs (0), 1 ounce avocado (1) and an orange (0) L: LEFTOVER Grilled Flank Steak with Chimichurri (5) over 2 cups chopped romaine lettuce (0) D: Mediterranean Sea Bass (4) with 2 ounces French bread (4) and Roasted Parmesan Green Beans (1)

Totals: Freestyle SP 15, Calories 1,065**

SATURDAY (5/18) B: Czech Crepes with Berries and Cream (4) L: Grilled Chicken Bruschetta (3) D: DINNER OUT!

Totals: Freestyle SP 7, Calories 417**

SUNDAY (5/19) B: Tex Mex Migas (6) L: Lemon Asparagus Couscous Salad with Tomatoes (5) D: Juicy Turkey Burgers with Zucchini (3) on a whole grain bun (3) with Air Fryer French Fries (5) (Recipe x4)

Totals: Freestyle SP 22, Calories 949**

*Prep Sunday night, if desired. Green salad includes 4 cups mixed greens, 2 scallions, ½ cup each: tomatoes, cucumber, chickpeas and 1/2 cup light vinaigrette. **This is just a guide, women should aim for around 1500 calories per day. Here’s a helpful calculator to estimate your calorie needs. I’ve left plenty of wiggle room for you to add more food such as coffee, beverages, fruits, snacks, dessert, wine, etc.

***Soak beans overnight Monday to Tuesday.

**google doc

Print Shopping List

Shopping list:

Produce

2 medium bananas

2 medium and 1 large ear of corn

2 large heads garlic

2 medium shallots

1 (6-ounce) clamshell fresh blackberries

1 (6-ounce) clamshell raspberries

1 (6-ounce) clamshell blueberries

1 (12-ounce) clamshell strawberries

1 small bunch fresh cilantro

1 small bunch fresh Italian parsley

1 medium container/bunch fresh basil

4 medium (6-ounce) Russet or Yukon Gold potatoes

3 small Persian cucumbers (or 1 large English cucumber)

1 small cucumber

1 small bunch scallions

1 (5-ounce) bag/clamshell mixed greens

3 medium lemons

1 medium lime

2 medium navel oranges

1 small jalapeño

¾ pound fresh (thin) asparagus

1 ¼ pounds (3) zucchini

2 small (4-ounce) and 2 medium (5-ounce) avocado

12 ounces green beans

1 small fennel bulb

2 large heads Romaine lettuce

1 large red onion

1 small and 1 large yellow onion

2 dry pints cherry or grape tomatoes

5 small and 8 medium vine-ripened tomatoes

Meat, Poultry and Fish

1 pound (2) boneless, skinless chicken breasts

1 ¼ pounds (8) thin-cut boneless, skinless chicken breast cutlets

1 ½ pounds flank steak

24 ounces (4) lean boneless pork chops

1-1 ¼ pounds (4) skinless Chilean sea bass fillets (or other sustainable firm white-fleshed fish fillets)

1 pound 93% lean ground turkey

1 small rotisserie chicken (or an extra 1 pound raw boneless, skinless chicken breast)

Grains*

1 small package quick oats

1 package whole grain or regular angel hair pasta

1 package low-carb whole wheat tortillas (I use La Tortilla Factory)

1 small package dry brown rice (or 3 cups pre-cooked)

1 (8-ounce) loaf French bread

1 small bag all-purpose or white whole wheat flour

1 small package corn tortillas

1 small package seasoned whole wheat breadcrumbs

1 package 100 calorie whole wheat buns (I like Martin’s)

1 small package whole wheat pearl couscous

Condiments and Spices

Extra virgin olive oil

Cooking spray

Olive oil spray (or get a Misto oil mister)

Kosher salt (I like Diamond Crystal)

Fine sea salt (can sub Kosher salt in Refried Beans, if desired)

Pepper grinder (or fresh peppercorns)

NuNaturals Vanilla liquid stevia (or sweetener of your choice)

Cinnamon

Reduced sodium Montreal Chicken seasoning

BBQ sauce

Crushed red pepper flakes

Light vinaigrette (or make your own with ingredients in list)

Honey

Cumin

Chili powder

Cayenne (optional for Refried Beans)

Paprika

Garlic powder

Dried oregano

Apple cider vinegar (I like Braggs)

Balsamic vinegar

Dairy & Misc. Refrigerated Items

Light ranch dressing (or ingredients to make your own)

1 small block pepper jack cheese

1 small package part-skim mozzarella (not shredded)

1 small package queso fresco

1 small wedge fresh Parmesan cheese

1 dozen large eggs

1 (8-ounce) tub sour cream

1 quart 1 % milk

1 (32-ounce) carton unsweetened almond milk (can sub ½ cup 1% milk in Overnight Oats, if desired)

1 container light whipped cream

1 (6-ounce) container plain nonfat Greek yogurt

Canned and Jarred

1 (28-ounce) can whole peeled tomatoes

1 small jar pitted Kalamata olives

1 small jar salsa

1 (15-ounce can) low sodium vegetable or chicken broth

1 (15-ounce) can chickpeas

1 (4-ounce) can mild diced green chiles

Misc. Dry Goods

1 small package chia seeds (you only need 1 Tbsp so you can buy from bulk bin, if desired)

1 small bag chopped pecans (you only need 2 Tbsp so you can buy from bulk bin, if desired)

1 small package pitted dates (you only need 2 so you can buy from bulk bin, I desired)

1 small package dried pinto beans

1 small package powdered sugar

1 bottle dry white wine

*You can sub gluten-free, if desired.

Print Shopping List

posted May 11, 2019 by Gina

The post Skinnytaste Meal Plan (May 13-May 19) appeared first on All Repices.

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