#I'm sick that I can't bring it Up with my Family because once I did and I was being mocked for it

[tamsinbeybey-she-no-porcupine]

...

[rose-tinted-nostalgia]

.

[jq37]

Aelwyn is sixteen and preparing for midterms at Hudol. Uniform pressed and starched, head full of incantations and spell components. She doesn't mean to bump into Adaine and get orange juice all over her shirt but today isn't the day she's going to start showing weakness.

"You know, you really should watch we're you're going," she says archly, playing off the clumsy mistake as a purposeful jab.

Playing it off a bit too well because, the next thing she knows, Adaine is flipping her off and a bolt of queasy looking, green energy is coming towards her. Ray of Sickness. And she can't spare the spell slot for Counterspell because she needs it for her exams.

"You little bitch!" Aelwyn says once she's emptied the contents of her stomach down the front of her shirt.

"Good luck with your exams," Adaine says sweetly.

Aelwyn is eighteen and the oldest, mangiest cat she's ever seen in her life has just vomited on her shoes.

"My," she says, casting a shield spell around her ankles to stop the cat from clawing at them. "You weren't kidding. He is a little bastard, isn't he?"

The shelter volunteer looks mortified. "Oh, gods! I am so sorry. I tried to warn you--I mean, not that I'm blaming you but--"

"No, it's alright. I did ask you to show me stragglers."

The shelter worker gestures to another pen on the other side of the room. "I can show you the kittens we just got in or there are some very well behaved older cats as well if you'd--"

But Aelwyn cuts her off, scooping up the old cat--though she holds him at arm's length for now, just to be safe. "No need. I haven't changed my mind. I'll take this one." She looks at the tag on his collar. "Hector."

Aelwyn is three and, as of a month ago, no longer the youngest Abernant.

She's had baby dolls in the past but never a baby sister and this is exciting new territory. She's full of questions. When is she going to be able to walk? When is she going to be able to talk? When will she be old enough to have lembas bread instead of formula?

Her parents seem less fascinated by the new addition to the family than she is but her mother is amused when she slaps away the hand of a colleague of her father's who tried to touch Adaine before sanitizing his hands, standing between the much larger man and her sister.

"So defensive. Perhaps she'll be an abjurer."

When Aelwyn asks what that is, her mother says that it's a kind of magical protector and she likes that a lot. That sounds like a good thing to be.

At night, Adaine cries. Except, she doesn't hear it because the mobile above her crib is etched with runes that cast the Silence spell.

"But what if she gets hurt?" Aelwyn asks.

Her father brushes her off. That's what the Unseen Servants are for. But she thinks that's what an abjurer might be for too and even though she isn't one yet, that doesn't mean she can't start practicing.

So, every night, Aelwyn waits until her parents have put Adaine down for bed and then tiptoes into her room. She checks to see if Adaine is silently wailing and if she is (and even sometimes if she isn't) she presses her face between the bars of the crib and sticks her little hand over Adaine's face.

"Don't cry," she says, even though the Silence spell mutes her words as completely as the tears. "Mum said I'm an abjurer. Nothing will get you. Don't cry, baby."

Adaine grabs her hand with impressive grip strength for something so small and, within a few minutes, she's trancing peacefully.

Aelwyn is seventeen and her sister is off to save the world again. This time from a Night Yorb--whatever that is.

It feels cruel that Adaine should have to go risk her life again so soon after she just almost died--not almost died, she did die before being raised by her cleric.

She wants to come with, to help in some way. Surely she could be helpful--last quest they brought Gilear for Helio's sake!

But Adaine doesn't ask her and she can't bring herself to say the words she needs to have the conversation she wants. So, instead, she lightly whaps Adaine on the shoulder with her spellbook as she's packing for the quest.

"I know you haven't done much studying lately what with your grades being based on how many hobgoblins you kill or whatever ridiculous system Aguefort has cooked up," Adaine rolls her eyes at that, "But if you don't mind a little cram session before you leave tomorrow, I can show you how to cast Teleport like I said. Might help you stay a touch less dead on your quest."

Her tone is light but her eyes betray her: Please, please, please don't die again.

Adaine's expression softens but then she scoffs, playing her half of their game. "I don't know what a Hudol dropout who's been in jail for the past year is gonna teach me but do your best."

Aelwyn is seven and her father is cross with her.

"Really Aelwyn," he says and even though they're talking via crystal she can feel the frost of his glare. "You thought it was appropriate to call me at work for no good reason? How many times have I told you and your sister to not bother me while I'm working."

She hates the word bother. She doesn't want to be a bother. She tries very hard not to be. Maybe she just didn't explain herself well enough.

"I know, father. But Addy got really scared and panicky on the playground. She was breathing really hard and--"

Her father makes a noise of disgust. "I don't have time for this. She is in primary school now. Stop coddling her. And her name is Adaine, not Addy. Please speak properly. I'm raising you better than that."

He hangs up before she can say anything else.

Aelwyn is eighteen and most of the claw marks on her arms have healed, which is nice. On her lap asleep is Hector who has apparently decided he likes her enough to use her as a radiator but not enough to submit to medical treatment without using her arms as a scratching post.

"You little heat vampire," she says as she slides her thumb across the screen of her crystal, searching for a video that will help her out. Eventually she finds one that looks promising and she calls it up.

On the screen, a halfling is standing next to a cat who is actively shredding her sweater with its claws. "You're going to be tempted to use some kind of a shield spell when applying the ointment," says the halfling. "But cats can smell abjuration magic and they don't love it. You won't get close enough to do the job. Isn't that right my darling?"

In response, her cat hacks up a hairball.

"Darling indeed," she says under her breath.

But even laced with sarcasm, the word is sweeter against her tongue than she anticipated.

She sinks her hand into Hector's fur and scratches his back for a few moments before tentatively speaking aloud. "Sleeping well, my darling?"

Hector says nothing--he's asleep and a cat. But warmth blooms in Aelwyn's chest--more than enough to make up for what Hector is leeching from her.

Aelwyn is seventeen and her father has just given her the most horrible command she's ever received in her life--and she's counting being made to sink a ship full of people in that calculation.

She knows her father doesn't expect her to delicately extricate the knowledge he needs from Adaine's mind. He expects her to get it at all costs. To ransack and pillage the memories if necessary with no heed of the consequences on her psyche. He'd probably prefer it that way--the more broken Adaine is, the easier it will be to mold her into a version of herself that is more useful to him.

Aelwyn is usually a smooth talker and a convincing liar but now, she stumbles all over her words, babbling out a stream of deflections and pleas as her heart squeezes tighter and tighter in her chest until she can't hold back the truth that she's been suppressing for years anymore.

"Adaine's just…she's a baby."

Aelwyn is eighteen and her apartment is full of cats.

She's always thought that the phrase, "One thing led to another" was a bit of a cop out--clearly there were key steps between point A and point B being glossed over--but in this case, there is truly no better way for her to articulate how she went from zero cats to ten cats in such a short amount of time.

She's sure that if she was still living with Jawbone, he'd have something to say about it but that's exactly why she isn't currently living with Jawbone.

She portions out food for all of the cats, saving Hector for last because he likes to eat curled up next to her.

"My darling baby boy," she says, lifting him onto the couch with her because the jump up is a bit much for him and his old bones. She kisses him on the top of the head and then pulls out her crystal. She scrolls mindlessly for a bit before checking her messages despite the fact that there's conspicuously no notifications.

Not that she has many people to expect texts from but she hasn't heard from Adaine in a few weeks and it's unsettling. When they weren't getting along, they were still living under the same roof. She was able to keep tabs on her, more or less. Now, they're closer than they've been in ages but barely talking.

I'm the older sister, I suppose, Aelwyn thinks. I should take the initiative.

She pets Hector with one hand and drafts a message with another: Are you alive, bitch?

She's about to press send but then she frowns and deletes the draft. After a few moments of thought, she taps out a new message: Can't believe I'm gonna say this. Miss my little sister. Everything all right?

Aelwyn is seventeen--though she doesn't feel like it.

Her mind is telling her that she's sixteen and that she was just been broken out of a jail cell in Solace but Adaine is telling her that she's just been broken out of an entirely different prison after being tortured for months even though she doesn't remember any of that.

But her body feels frail and Adaine says she's been in her mind which means she must have used the hard reset.

She's suddenly feeling very vulnerable--not because of the disorientation or the of the levels of exhaustion she can feel weighing on her like leaden chains. No, it's because of the fact that Adaine using the reset means that she must have read the treacle-y note that she left there for her to find.

It was just an insurance policy, she tells herself. There was wisdom to buttering up your savior to make sure she'd do what you needed her to do.

She manages to mostly believe it. But the small, truthful part of herself that knows how deeply she meant the words is so uncomfortable that she antagonizes Adaine until she's annoyed enough to hit her with a spell, sending her into blissful unconsciousness.

Aelwyn is nineteen and she's going to kill her mother.

Well, not alone of course. Adaine deserves the kill at least as much as she does if not more. It'll be a group effort.

It's a strange mix--the cold fury at her mother mixed with the warmth she feels for her sister, sitting across the table from her. She summons a flame to her palm, a preview of what their mother has waiting for her. She watches Adaine's eyes harden with resolve and she sees the face of her baby sister, left to wail alone silently for hours, soothed by her presence. "Let's get her."

"Yes, my dear," she says, the endearment coming freely as if this has always been their dynamic. "We'll get her."

But there will be time for that later. Right now, it's time for ice cream and seeing Adaine so content in such a simple pleasure causes the warmth in her to surge so suddenly that it would be startling if it wasn't so pleasant. The urge to voice it is so powerful that she doesn't know that would have been able to stop it at any point in life, let alone now.

"I hope we get to eat ice cream and cast magic forever," she says, words that would have been impossible for her to say one short year ago and impossible not to say now.

And, to her delight, Adaine agrees.

[helslastangel]

Moon Conjunct Venus + Moon Trine Ascendant Synastry Based on My Personal Experiences 🔞

This may not resonate for everyone, so if it doesn't hit, please let it miss. There are 18+ topics included this so minors, do not interact. 🔞

Their Moon conjunct your Venus

This aspect is wonderful if you're both feeling each other. They can and will read you like a book without even needing to turn the first page. If you've ever seen or been in one of those couples where the one person knew exactly what the other one wanted or needed, without ever discussing it, even once? Yeah, those are the vibes here. You will be loved exactly the way you want to be loved and if things don't work out, there is a good chance the breakup could leave you feeling destroyed for quite some time, even if you were never in a relationship.

This aspect can make it very difficult to be "just friends" with if either person wants more from the connection, but even platonic friends with this synastry aspect will be the kind of friend that you give the spare keys to, can call at 4 in the morning whether for an emergency or just to sob about something stupid, and who you allow to come over without calling first-in fact you welcome it and aren't surprised to come home and find them asleep on the couch or something like that. Like this is the friend that you're more like family with, if you're not in a romantic connection.

If you ever get in a mood and start talking about "everyone this" and "people always/never that," they aren't offended because it doesn't even cross their mind to think they're included in that pile. There is no guarantee that things will always be perfect or work out with this placement, obviously it depends on factors in the whole chart and other things like time, place, circumstance, and so on. And of course, anyone who can read you accurately has the ability to use that to manipulate and harm rather than help and support you, but that's a risk of life in general. All I'm saying is: with this aspect, when it's good, it's DAMN GOOD.

To give you an example, I had this synastry with a Scorpio moon several years ago (I'm a Scorpio Venus). We met at an event and hit it off so well that we were talking outside the venue for nearly 4 hours, annoying his friends and mine. Ended up bringing him home with me and I fully expected him to disappear into a cloud of dust the next day, but he didn't. We didn't end up working out beyond friends with benefits, but he's NEVER been rude or unkind to me once. Extremely patient, always calm no matter what and very sweet to me whenever we run into each other somewhere in the city every couple of years.

The way he handled me emotionally was just beautiful, I can't think of another way to put it. Most of my friends at the time would ignore anything I did creatively - not him, he found one of my books and posted it on his story with a cute caption saying how much he loved intelligence and that he was proud of me. The type to show up in the rain and keep me company when I was sick (back when I lived alone), even though he had class, work and practice all that day. The first time we hooked up, I was getting my laundry together and wondering why he hadn't left yet. He picked up the bags talking about, "Nah I got 'em, lead the way to the laundromat, why would I leave you to do this by yourself."

TMI / TW (mentions of sexual activities, body fluids, menstruation/periods) so again, minors, get out of here and the rest of you proceed with caution or skip to the next paragraph.

He was very much empathetic and also body positive-absolutely nothing seemed to gross him out. I have so many examples, but let's go with something both extreme and spicy. I was bundled up, laying on his shoulder and trying to deal with menstrual cramps while we were watching a show and him going, "Oh you know I read somewhere that orgasms can ease those, may I?" I'm there like, may you what? sure?? I'm curious?? Next thing I know, he's got a towel down, yeets the tampon and dives in head first talking about "a period ain't stop nothing but a sentence." And, well? All I'll say is.. at least ONE man knows where the clit is! ibuprofen, who? where? 😂😈

Obviously that's a bit much if you're a vanilla type (but a Scorpio moon + Scorpio venus? baby we was freaks, what can I say? lmfao) but this is just an example I mention because the important part is not once did he bring up getting off himself. No hinting for a quickie or a BJ like you might expect. I even offered because I was used to guys doing seemingly selfless gestures only to be guilt-tripped shortly after, and he was just like, "Sorry, what? No, you're not feeling well, I wanted you to feel better, plus I don't need to get off all the time, I read it's healthy to ignore the urges sometimes." (Idk if you could tell, but he REALLY likes to read, loll).

That's what I'm talking about with the Moon-Venus conjunction. This kind of synastry will vary in the specific ways it's expressed of course, but all other things being equal, someone with their moon conjunct your venus will intuitively know what you want and need to feel loved, and it works because it blends very well with their own emotional needs. If the moon person tells you they enjoy doing something for you or with you without expecting anything in return, believe it. It sounds like a lie because of the types of people who would lie about that, but with this aspect, chances are they meant that shit.

Not only that, but you'll feel like you've known them for a long time. That's because you'll also understand their emotional expression on an intuitive level. This isn't as one-way as it could sound. Oh, no, not at all. You will feel like you've met before and find yourself making time and space, and finding energy for them even out of thin air. You could live in a tiny studio that you'd never share with anyone and then find yourself cleaning out your closet on a Sunday afternoon to "make a little space" for their extra work uniform or even as tiny as keeping an extra toothbrush, clearing a hook in the bathroom, keeping their favorite snacks in the fridge, stuff like that. You'll generally feel at home with each other and trust can build VERY quickly. Others could even wonder if you're okay, especially if you're normally a paranoid person.

With Scorpio moon guy, he accidentally left his wallet the first time he left my place and I called him when I found it. His response was "Oh I left it at yours? Oh good, that's okay then, I'll come get it at some point this week, let me know what days you'll be home". He knew me for less than 24 hours at the time, lol. 3 months later he had the door code to my place and there were two toothbrushes and two towels instead of one LOL, trust was never an issue and it certainly wasn't the reason we didn't work out either! We basically just couldn't really keep pace with each other because... we had a 6 year age gap. Completely different life stages. I have a feeling if we both were a lot older, it would have worked out. Literally nothing else was wrong with us.

Now, that was with me being the Venus (and Ascendant-see below) person. I'll be honest, as a Capricorn moon, I'm curious about how it would be if I meet a Capricorn venus romantically. I wonder how that would play out all the time, and I think I'll let that remain a mystery until it happens, then I'll hopefully still be blogging then and come back and tell yall about that too. THAT BEING SAID... I do have this aspect (as the moon person this time) with a platonic Capricorn venus friend I had for nearly 13 years. We would literally be in each other's houses (and hair and business lol) all the time. We had yearly festivals we always went to together, talked almost everyday, knew how each other was feeling before the other one would even say anything. Mopped each other up off the floor when going through shit. She punched a guy I was dating who cheated on me, and I introduced her to a mutual friend who I thought she might like to date, and then cussed the hell out of him when he didn't pull his weight like I thought he would. Things like that.

The friendship ended nearly 7 years ago but I miss her every day. I remember what happened, but in hindsight, it seems so foolish now and I miss her every single day. We would have been friends for 20 years by now and I don't have a lot of regrets in life, but that is one of them. She hurt me but I handled it so poorly both before and after she reached out to talk that it just destroyed the entire foundation of our friendship. I haven't even tried to get over it because I don't want to. To me, that would be just disrespectful, I feel like it's something I need to carry with me as a reminder to do better next time. I'm sure you see by now that this is a quite an intense and dynamic placement!

Bonus Observation:

Moon Trine Ascendant Synastry

If someone with their moon conjunct your venus ALSO has their moon trine your ascendant, WHEW that is hot. Not only will the emotional connection be strong, but they will find everything about you on the outside just as enticing as the inside.

They genuinely enjoy the way you express yourself and can have a lot of patience for any shenanigans you might get up to. These people will watch you from across a crowded room all evening and suddenly appear by your side just before you leave to tell you they think you're attractive and want to get to know the rest of you beneath the surface. And it's rarely ever creepy. They'll know just how to approach you. I've had this synastry aspect a few times and it's always been like that. Genuinely charming. Perfect rizz.

This kind of synastry, as I said earlier, will leave you in absolute shambles if things don't work out, especially if you don't encounter this synastry often in your connections. Personally, I'd consider this one of those aspects where one or both of you can feel like the other was a soulmate, or "the one that got away," and end up being celibate or single (if romantic), or becoming asocial (if platonic) for a long time after splitting up. That or cycling through a series of awful relationship and friendship rebounds in an attempt to find them in another person.

Not too much on me for this, but there's a country song by Colt Fold that I'd loved for half a decade now called 4 Lane Gone. I'm sure there are other songs out there that would capture this better, but this is the one that stuck with me.

Something about the way this artist captures the feeling. Wistful, you can tell dude is acting strong, but knows damn well a good thing just got royally fucked up. Maybe I'm just melodramatic (I'm water dominant after all), but have a listen and see if you get what I'm talking about.

Idk. From my experiences with these aspects (been lucky enough to experience it with more than one person), I'd say it gives a pretty good idea of how either side could feel when it ends. Probably more so the Moon person, though, as they're likely to react like this to either a) being the one to end the relationship prematurely and regret it, or b) being blindsided by the Venus/Ascendant person up and leaving, and taking so long to process and recover from the shock, that by the time they chase after them...they're...well...four lanes gone. Lol.

Lyrics

[Verse 1]

Been raining for three days

On the fast track to the highway

Trying to save a little time

Lord I never should have tried

Taking this back road shortcut

Now I’m way stuck, so sunk

I’ll never catch her now

So I just put the tailgate down

She’s probably somewhere doing 95

I got nothing but this cooler and time

[Chorus]

I cracked one waiting on a ride

Two or three just to pass the time

While she’s headed to a new town

And I’m too lost to be found

She probably thinks that I don’t care

Stuck in the rut in the middle of nowhere

And just my luck I’ll be here all night long

Man, I’m bummed out back road buzzed

And she’s four lane gone

Yeah she’s four lane gone

[Verse 2]

Every empty beer can makes me

Miss her like hell, man I can kick myself

For the place and the shape I’m in holding me back

Yeah my wheels keep on spinning

And she’s ticked off blacktop fast

[Chorus] x 1

[Bridge]

While I’m stuck here all alone

With a midnight natty light

One more chance I’ve blown

[Chorus] x 1

[Outro]

I’m out here all alone

Yeah she’s four lane gone

She’s four lane, four lane gone

Yeah she’s four lane gone

She’s four lane gone

[hughiecampbelle]

Being Hughies Supe Sibling Would Include:

Requested: hi!! i hope you're doing well 💓 can i request maybe an fic/headcanon where the reader is supe and hughie's sibling who hasn't seen him in years because reader stayed with their mother? (and the reader meets hughie when their father dies). feel free to ignore, but i thought the idea was interesting. Thanks!!! 🫶🫶🫶 - anon

A/N: I love this idea!!!! For this sake, I'm picturing Hughie as late 20s, making reader mid/early 20s. Thank you for requesting!! I hope you like it my love!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💕

Hughie found both you and your mother at your father's bedside. You were asleep, your head on the edge of his bed, your mother watching over the two of you

He's shocked. He hadn't seen either of you since he was a little kid. You were even younger, a toddler

He remembers very little before your mother left and took you with her. There's a clear line of before and after in his memories. Before you were a regular family of four. After it was just Hugh and Hughie, eating pizza rolls and watching TV reruns

He wants there to be a spark of recognition when it comes to you, he really does, but when he looks at you he doesn't see the baby sibling he begged for. The baby he played with. The toddler he read to, taught you everything you knew, and spoiled rotten with toys and candy. He sees a stranger

Hughie pills your mother aside, unsure of what to do, wanting to say so many things. Where was she? Where were you all these years? Why did she take you and leave him?

He learns the answer not long after: because you're a Supe. You were injected with Compound V as an infant, but your powers didn't appear until you were a teenager. Knowing it was her decision to give you the V, that Hugh would never have said no to her, Daphne took you with her, realizing that whatever happened to you, however you ended up, would be entirely her fault

She was even more depressed after you were born and, wanting to save you from this depression, from a life like hers, she thought the V would help

Hughie and Daphne talk out in the hall, not wanting to wake you or your dad up

"They missed you."

"Do they even remember me?"

That definitely hurts Daphne. She raised you knowing and loving your big brother. She brought pictures of him and made sure you knew he loved you. Because of this, you'd idolized him

When your mother found out your father was sick, she took you back to the city

It's not like you never wanted to reach out, but you could imagine the hurt your mother leaving must have caused. You didn't want to rip open that wound again. And, you feared, Hughie would hate you because you were a Supe

You followed Annie online and knew all about their public relationship. Even before then, you'd stalked him online and made a fake account to keep up with him. You even knew about what happened to Robin

It's not like Hughie forgot about you. You were his baby sibling, the best thing to ever happen to him. He didn't know you were a Supe, though. And, angrily, he assumed your mother chose you over him because you were too young to remember the family she broke up. You would love her because you didn't know anything else

Once you do wake up, it gets awkward

You're not sure whether to hug him or shake his hand, so you end up doing some weird thing in the middle before deciding to sit down again

Unsure of how to break the ice, you bring up Annie. How cool you think she is, how you've been following her since she was initiated into The Seven. Not knowing any better, you tell him how cool it must have been to visit Vought Tower

Immediately, he's turned off. He wants to be kind, be cool, but he can't think about Homelander and Vought while his dad is dying

Your mom leaves for a few hours, letting you two "catch up"

It's definitely painful conversation. You don't want to talk about your childhood, knowing it's a sore subject, so you go on to tell him about the semester you have left at God U and the internship you have because of it

"You're, you're a Supe?"

"Dad. . . didn't say anything?"

You sit quietly again before you find an excuse to leave (bathroom break, getting a soda from the vending machine) before you come back

"What, what can you do?"

You don't love how you became a Supe, but you love being a Supe

You show him, keeping things quiet so as not to disturb anyone

When he has to leave he promises to come back the same time, hoping to see you again

It's hard at first, but before you know it your dad is awake and the four of you are reminiscing about the years you were all together

Your dad loves hearing about the life you've had. When your Supe abilities appeared, your time studying at God U, all the good memories you have with your mom

When Hugh passes, Hughie holds you, taking on that big brother role like no time has passed

You know he's busy (with what, you're still not sure) but he promises to keep in touch and see you as much as he can

When you and Hughie and Daphne go on the tour to spread his ashes, you meet Annie and all their friends

They're more than welcoming, sharing funny stories about your brother, trying to make you smile on such a hard day

Annie heard little about you from Hughie besides the basics, but she falls in love with you immediately

You're not sure whether to tell you're a Supe, so you keep it to yourself. That is, until that asshole yells at Annie and Hughie tells him to fuck off. You get so upset on their behalf you end up showing your powers

"Hughie didn't tell us about that. . ."

After the memorial, you make sure to reach out to him, wanting to keep in contact

He's pretty vague, but he urges you and Daphne to get out of the city

You stay though, sensing something is off. You tell your mom everything is fine and, for her safety, you promise you'll be with her in a few days, you just want to see more of your brother

You follow them to the end, when they try to split up and say goodbye, after Butcher gets the virus

Keeping a safe distance, you follow Hughie and Annie's car. You're stopped short by a woman with a shaved head and men in tactical gear

When Hughie is dragged into the van and Annie flies off, you're handcuffed and sedated, your hands bound with Vought technology so you can't use your powers

"Y/n?"

[undercity-princess]

Little Lightcannon thingy I was thinking about

"Jinx?" Lux entered the cluttered working space.

"What's up, Blondie?" Jinx turned to her, tool and a bullet casing still in her hands.

"You know, there's a thing I kinda wondered..." Her words tapered out as she stood awkwardly, pulling at her sleeves. "Since Fishbones and Pow-Pow are your most trusted... Entities..."

Jinx turned fully, suspicious of what's to come "go on"

"I mean, you talk to them and they answer... To you, but only you... Never me or anyone else"

"That's because I'm crazy and you're... Less crazy, different crazy"

"Yeah I know, but they... They are like... your family right?"

"Could say so? I guess?" Jinx was truly at a loss where Lux was going with this. She put down what she held to focus on her.

"Well your sister, she doesn't like me. Doesn't trust me at all. So I wondered... Do they like me? Your weapons?" She looked up, blushing to the tips of her ears. She knew that her question was completely bonkers by normal standards, but those didn't apply to the two of them, did they?

Jinx gawked at her. She had run a ton of possibilities in her head, but this outcome was completely unexpected. She caught herself and looked over to the weapons in question. Everyone else would have caught a bullet by now, but she could see that Lux really was sincere. This was no cruel mockery of her mental condition, instead Lux acknowledged what Fishbones and Pow-Pow were to her, and immersed in it.

Jinx took a deep breath " When we met, they had their reservations. Especially Fishbones. He doesn't want me to get hurt you know? His trust... It's hard earned. But they've seen you with me... Our ups and downs. How you never abandon me, even if I get really bad. How you bring light into my darkest days... The way you don't look at me as if I was a sick child to be pitied when I talk to them.

Then there's the way you handle them, even if firearms are not your kind of weapon. I had to get away with Vi once and she had to help me carry them. She threw them around so carelessly! Like things without any conscience, because that's what they are to her. But you... You are always careful with them! They know that."

"But I scratched Fishbones with my armour!"

"And you apologised! And before even apologising to me, you apologised to him! Even if you can't hear them like I do, you see and treat them like I do. How could they not like you? See, Fishy will always be a grumpy old man, but Pow loves you nearly as much as I do! They do like you and are happy you are in my life."

If you had told Lux a year ago, that she'd be relieved to hear that two inanimate objects liked her, she would have laughed at you. But now, she felt like having gotten the blessing of Jinx's family.

[luveline]

I had an idea silly but wanted to share. Reader gets a call from Roanie's school for the first time because she felt sick and said she wanted her mom. It is the first time that the reader is called at school and she feels bursting with love and drops everything to save her daughter. When Eddie gets home he can only feel even more in love with his girls (and a little jealous 🥺

thank you for your request! eddie and roan ♥︎ fem!reader, 2k words (roan calls you mom and your name)

You're sitting bored in your office when the phone rings. Thankful for any saviour, you immediately drop the pen you'd been clicking and bring the receiver to your cheek. 

"Hi, L/N speaking." 

"Hi, Miss L/N, this is Dana Montgomery, the receptionist at Hawkins Elementary. We have a sick Roan Munson here, and Nurse Paula thinks it would be best if she was collected and taken home." 

"Is she alright?" you ask, holding the receiver to your cheek with your shoulder as you stand. 

The receptionist sighs sympathetically. "She chucked up in class, I'm afraid." 

You assure the receptionist that you'll be there soon and gather your things in a rush, though you pause before you leave, perplexed. While you're more than okay with being called for Roan, the elementary school usually call you only if they can't get in touch with Eddie, and as far as you know he's safe and sound at work and completely contactable. 

You grab the phone and dial in the mechanics number, uncertain. It takes a while to pick up. 

"Hi, Hawki-" 

"Hey, Wayne. Is Eddie around?" 

"He's right here next to me, you wanna talk to him?" 

"Please. Thank you." 

There's a transference, a sound like fingers over the receiver, and then, "Hi, what's wrong?" 

Very in character. "Did Roan's school call?" You barely pause between your question and the explanation, not wanting him to worry unnecessarily. "They called me asking to pick her up, said she threw up." 

"They didn't call me. I'll go grab her-" 

"No, I'll get her, I was just wondering," you say, familiar enough by now to make demands. He doesn't take any offence. 

"Alright, babe. Call me if you need me. See you soon?" 

His voice sounds sweet down the line. A mixture of things, the most important to you being the total trust and confidence. He doesn't think for a second you can't deal with this. 

"Alright. Love you, handsome." 

"I love you. Tell my girl I said the same." 

You hang up without anymore goodbyes and quickly nip into your boss' office to plea family emergency. She's not pleased but not angry, and so you send her your biggest, most award-winning smile and are out of the building and behind the wheel of your car in minutes. 

Your stomach aches in worry on the drive, for Roan and for yourself, because while you've picked her up from daycare when she was a little younger when Eddie couldn't make it, you've never been the first point of contact, and you haven't ever picked her up since she started elementary school. You barely know where it is, you don't know where to park, and it takes you five minutes too long to locate the main entrance. 

The receptionist looks like she's expecting you. "Roan's mom?" she asks. 

Your heart does a front flip. You can't help smiling, even worried as you are. "Yeah, that's me." 

She calls the nurse and tells you to take a seat if you need one. You stay standing, hands clutching the ends of your coat. You've undergone the craziest transformation, in being Roan's stepmom (though you don't call yourself her stepmom, you just say mom, following her lead) It's a peculiar thing to suddenly love someone like this, and to be ramped with worry every time she's sick. You and Eddie had spoken about it once. 

Why do I feel so terrified when she scrapes her knees? Is that normal? you'd asked. 

It's normal. It fades a little, after time. He'd found your hand in the sheets and squeezed it. I mean, I've had time to get used to it. When she was a baby, I pretty much lost my mind every day thinking she'd die. It was awful. 

It is awful, you'd said. When does it go away? 

It doesn't, really… Do you mind? 

Of course you didn't mind, and you don't now. You'll undergo the anxiety that comes with loving her if it means you get to love her — it's a no-brainer. 

Roan appears down the hall in her change of clothes, shepherded by the nurse's hand behind her small shoulders. There's a bag hanging from the nurse's other hand that very likely contains the clothes Roan had puked on. 

"Hey, baby," you say, enthusing your tone with as much love and affection as you can, because Roan looks like the saddest little girl in the world right now. 

The instantaneous change in her expression when she looks up reaffirms everything you'd thought. If getting to love her comes with stomach churning worry every now and then, you can take it. Her smile lights up the room, and she takes a series of quick but wobbly steps until she's close enough to swing up into your chest. 

She smells sick, but she's soft and small as ever in your arms. You get one arm under her butt and the other behind her back as she wraps her arms and thighs around you like a clinger, as she usually does when you get home from work. 

"What happened, princess?" you ask softly. 

She hadn't been crying when she appeared. She doesn't look far from it now, big brown eyes shiny with unshed tears. Her eyelashes are stuck together in triangles, evidence that she'd been crying at one point. You rub her shoulders. "Say, huh? You're not feeling well?" 

"Roan hasn't thrown up since the first time in class, so I haven't administered any anti-nausea or anything," the nurse says. 

You look up from Roan's heartbreaking face and offer your hand for the bag of her dirty clothes. "Thank you so much for taking care of her." 

The nurse smiles. "That's my job. Bye, Roan. Feel better soon, okay?" 

"Bye miss Paula," Roan says quietly. 

You love her. She's an angel. And you're allowed to say that because you've seen buckets of tantrums at this point. She's an angel regardless. 

You thank the receptionist and hike Roan up higher on your chest. She's at the age where you can still get away with carrying her, though your office job doesn't exactly supply you with the muscles necessary for it, and your arms are sore by the time you get to the car. 

She's weirdly quiet when compared to her usual self but from what you know when she gets sick and overwhelmed, this is normal for her.

You get her in her car seat, and surprise her when you climb into the back and close the door. 

"Mom?" she asks, perplexed. 

Every time she calls you mom, you're unreasonably happy. Sometimes she calls you by your first name, and you wouldn't rush her into anything but you have hope that one day you'll be just mom. If you aren't, that's okay. But you still hope. 

"What, baby?" you ask, reaching for the wet wipes stuffed in the chair in front of her. "How are you feeling, mm? Still sick?" 

"I feel okay." 

You smile and start to wipe down her face carefully with a wet wipe. Her nose is runny, and her eyes are sticky from tears. 

"I'm glad…" You drop your hand into her lap. "Dad says to tell you he loves you, and he'll see you soon."

"I asked for mom." 

You smile at her, and you can't resist chucking her under the chin gently. "You did?" 

"They always call dad, but I wanted you to come." 

"I'll always come. Whenever you want me to, I'll be there for anything, Roanie, I mean it. Even if it's something small or something really big." 

Tears burn behind your eyes. You don't cry, fighting the knot in your throat and mirroring Roan's smile. She looks so reassured, her little pout pulling into a smile just like Eddie's. 

You're excited to marry Eddie because he's Eddie. He's yours, your love, your baby. He's a juxtaposition if they ever made one, loud and brash and irrational, sweet and gentle and the best dad in the world. You love him for his heart, and his callused hands, and his amazingly trim waist. But honestly, sometimes, you think you could love him for making Roan alone. That one thing, this one gift, it's something you'll be grateful for and impressed by for the rest of your life. 

You get to be his, and you get to be Roan's mom. It's the greatest double win in history. 

—

He finds you exactly where he's expecting, in your work clothes lying on the couch with his sick Roanie curled up smack dab on top of you. Your hand pets a slow rhythm through her hair, which you've freed from her bunches. You've been raking your hands through it long enough to detangle every knot, her curls dark and silky, if a little damp. 

Eddie gets home a little later than usual with a restocked kiddie pharmacy and lots of soup. He marvels at the soup stereotype, and he knows from experience that soup genuinely cures at least 40% of any sickness. The one you make from scratch probably cures upwards of 60%, but he's lazy and he's bad at making soup, so he blows some cash at Bradley's and hopes it'll do the same trick. 

"Hey," he says, leaning over the couch to kiss your head. You smile in greeting.

He skirts around entirely and kneels in front of Roan, tilting his head to the side in mirror. "Hi, babe." 

"Hi, daddy," she croaks. 

He pouts at her dramatically. "How are you feeling? Bad?" 

"She's scorching," you murmur, concerned. 

"I feel okay but I threw up in the art room and I had to change into my Dolly Dotty t-shirt at school."

He raises his eyebrows to show he's listening. "Oh, no."

He presses the back of his hand to her head carefully. Roan is hot, and her forehead is damp with perspiration. 

"I'll get it," you say, "we'll swap." 

"D'you know where the thermometer is?" he asks you, murmuring too as he brushes hair back from Roan's face. She smiles at him. Eddie finds it hard to smile back. It's obvious she's at the beginning of a flu.

This is not going to be easy. 

"No," Roan moans as soon as you start to move, hands clutching your sides, "no, stay." 

Eddie sees both your delight at being wanted and your sheepishness. He knows you try not to overstep, because he's her dad, he's always going to be her dad, and he's known and loved her for a lot longer than you have. But you should know by now it doesn't matter. Roan loving you makes him love you more, and vice versa.

"It's fine," he says, putting on airs like it is not fine, drama seeping into every line of every word, "whatever, right? She's mommy's girl now, I get it." 

You fluster visibly, tamping down a smile. 

Roan hums her agreement and hides her face in your chest. "Yeah, I'm mommy's," she says. 

"Roan, you're breaking your old man's heart here." 

"Sorry, daddy." 

He kisses her ear where it's poking through her hair. "It's okay. I understand." He leans in to whisper. "I don't understand. Me and you are gonna fight as soon as you're better, and I'm gonna win. Get ready, bub." 

She gives a weak giggle. "You're silly." 

"I'm silly?" he asks, dad tone firmly in place, all giddy excitement and sweetness as he presses his lips to her cheek. "You better watch it, Roan, or I'm calling Uncle Wayne. You think he'd let you talk to me like that?" 

She shrugs her shoulders. 

You laugh and pat her back, clearly delighted at his misfortune. "Don't worry, princess, I'm on your side. Dad always loses against me." 

"That's not fair," Eddie argues, "you're a cheater." 

And you do cheat. Little arguments are almost always turned in your favour. You do this annoying (extremely loving) thing where you get your hands on his cheeks and stroke the skin under his eye with your thumb that makes him feel fifteen again, the rush of a new crush, and you soften your eyes and lean in and explain your half of the argument again in a tone that knows it's winning. He hates it. (He would die if you never did it again.) 

"How dare you," you murmur, pulling Roan's head into the crook of your neck, eyes fluttering closed in content. 

"How dare I," he says dryly. 

He looks down at both of his girls and can't believe how lucky he is, how this all turned out. He wishes he could go back and tell a younger him that he doesn't have to worry — that late nights spent panicked and afraid he'd be alone forever are entirely wasted. Roan's leg drifts down your hip and lands wonky on the couch. Your hands rub mildly at the length of her back. 

"I'm gonna make dinner, okay?" he asks.

You and Roan both hum. 

He burns with envy, he's not too proud to say. "There better be room for me after." 

You laugh under your breath. "Whatever you want, baby. Now shush, we're sleeping." 

—

more eddie and roan

[honeygrahambitch]

High school AU

Hannibal was a couple years older than Will but the reason they shared some classes was that Will was so intelligent that he shared some classes with Hannibal.

They wouldn't talk much other than contradicting each other on different subjects. Philosophy class would be everyone's nightmare because not even the teacher could stop their debates that would often continue during the breaks.

One day Will doesn't come to school. The next day as well. And so on for a week. Since Will had no friends, there was no one Hannibal could ask about Will's state. Hannibal had many friends or more precisely, he knew a lot of people but none of them had an incredible opinion regarding Will.

He was bored and slightly concerned that the only fascinating student in the whole institution was missing.

He knew where Will was living. He had followed him a few times just out of pure curiosity. And because he wanted to learn more about Will. So he was aware Will's family was poor, compared to his uncle Roberto. Hannibal did not give much importance to the amount of money people owned, what mattered more were their intellect and manners. And he had to admit, Will was an asshole but he was sharp. And beautiful. And he awakened something in him.

After overthinking it for seven hours, Hannibal found himself walking towards Will's house. He would knock at the door, offer Will his notes and then leave. All he needed was to have his curiosity satisfied.

So that's what he did. He knocked. Once. Then again. And then he just waited awkwardly on the doorstep. When the door finally opened, he didn't have the time to step back when a tall man grabbed him by the collar and threw him to the ground, making him roll down the porch steps like a ragdoll.

Hannibal tried to get up as soon as possible and dust himself off as if his biggest problem was his appearance.

"Dad, get back inside."

"I told you that if I see a Jehovah's witness again, I am kickin' his ass down the stairs."

"Let me deal with that. The game is starting anyway."

That last sentence convinced the huge man to go back in, the "Jehovah's witness" already forgotten.

Will jumped down the stairs and measured Hannibal from head to toes. He was relieved to see him standing on his feet. Nothing looked broken.

"Sorry about that."

"No apology needed, you didn't do anything." Hannibal said, still taken aback by what had happened a few seconds ago. His dignity was slightly harmed.

"Your lip." Will said and pulled out a handkerchief from his back pocket. He reached out to tap it on the trail of blood that was flowing from the corner of Hannibal's thin lips.

"That's nothing." Hannibal said. "Anyway, I wanted to bring you my notes. I figured you must have been sick since you missed so many classes." He added and reached for his backpack.

"You shouldn't be here." Will said. His expression was unreadable but his tone sounded like a warning.

"A 'thank you' would be enough."

"Seriously, my dad he...he is not really sober right now. That's not how he usually behaves."

Hannibal could tell that was definitely a lie. That was for sure how he usually behaved.

"Honestly? Maybe he is right, I should get a better suit. Maybe I do look like a Jehova's witness." Hannibal said, trying to save Will from giving him any explanation that might make him embarrassed.

He laughed.

"People are asking about you."

Will laughed again. "By 'people' you mean that you are asking. Who else even noticed I'm gone?"

"Classes are not entertaining enough."

"I think you will have to be bored for some more. My mom got sick and my dad can't take care of her since he...yeah, so..."

"You are in charge of everything around the house."

"Just for a while. She is already getting better."

"If you need anything, I could-"

"You don't even know how to hold a broom."

"Asshole."

"I am indeed. And you came all the way here to bring me your notes and get your ass kicked."

"I was really curious what would happen if I came here."

"Was it entertaining enough?"

"Yes." Hannibal replied. It had been indeed eventful. No one had kicked his ass in ages. Humbling even. But surprisingly that was not what was bothering him. "But seriously, if you need more notes or to catch up with classes, pay me a visit. My address..."

"I appreciate that. And I know where you live."

Hannibal nodded. Of course he knew.

[rillils]

how do explain stucky from the moment they met to where they are now (together in each others arms) to my friend who knows nothing about marvel

ohh this is a tough one, honey! i think i've got two options for you:

the short answer:

stucky is a compendium of all the best tropes out there, and i'm sure i'm gonna miss a few:

soulmates? check! star-crossed lovers? check! battle husbands? super check! mutual pining? check! 'and they were roommates'? check! best friends to lovers? check check check! long-lost lover comes back from the dead? fuck yeah, check! temporary amnesia? check! dude in distress trope? check! 'they will always find each other and choose each other in every lifetime'? also check! identity porn? extra check! saved by the power of love? you guessed it: check! slow burn or childhood sweethearts? you decide!!! did they share their first kiss when steve was 16, as per a popular fanon theory? did they only confess their feelings during the war? did they only get together much later, when bucky was healing in wakanda? you can pick literally ANY point in their timeline, and it will still make sense! they're all equally valid! you can even have multiple different headcanons at once, i mean who's gonna stop you??? all you have to do is join in the fun! 💕

the long AF answer, aka:

STEVE & BUCKY'S LOVE STORY, UNABRIDGED SOMEWHAT ABRIDGED, part 1/3

all right, let's set the scene:

imagine two young kids, let's call them steve and bucky. they meet, they immediately take to each other, they become instant besties! and as they grow up together, facing many hardships, their bond deepens. not only are they best friends; they are also each other's family. they take care of each other, and they both know they can always rely on one another in times of need.

when steve's mom (and only remaining relative) passes away, bucky reminds him that he's not as alone in this world as he thinks he is: bucky will always be by his side. bucky will always love him unconditionally, will always be there for him, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer, and he wants steve to know that.

in fact, he asks steve to move in with him, thus offering steve both a literal and a metaphorical home.

and steve says yes!

SO. they are each other's home, they're living together, they're getting by all right. but then war breaks out, and eventually it reaches their little home as well: bucky is drafted, and steve, due to his many health issues, and despite his best intentions, can't follow the boy he loves onto the battlefield.

it's a very difficult time for them both - so much so that they can't even bring themselves to talk about it.

they have no choice but to say goodbye for now, knowing that they might never see each other again. but here's something you might not know yet about steve: he's the most reckless, most stubborn fucker america's ever seen. he's not gonna let this stop him!!! instead, he goes and gets a very sweet, kindly scientist to fucking experiment on him, because screw it, he's going to fight in this war if it's the last thing he does. and that's how he goes from Smol Steeb to Lorge Premium Steeb.

of course, things don't go exactly as he predicted, and steve is made to be the star of a war propaganda-fuelled musical kinda thingie, which he resents (but he looks fucking precious in his costume)

BUT! he does get closer to the actual battlefield. which is where he discovers that bucky has been captured by the enemy (!!!!!!!) and is most likely dead by now. but steve isn't willing to give up so easily! he'll believe bucky's dead when he sees it with his own eyes. so, he embarks on this suicide solo mission in the attempt to get bucky back, even if it means wandering on his own. into enemy territory. where he would be shot. on. sight. with no protection for his dumb ass except for a bunch of theater props!!! but such is the power of love, y'all.

against all odds, steve finds bucky very much still alive! and as soon as bucky recognizes him, even as confused as he is, he pulls out this beautiful, ecstatic, angelic-ass smile, like he's just seen god or he got high on some real good edibles or maybe both idk, like my man here was having a serious Religious Experience™ you guys

and i just wanna say, they could have totally kissed here and it would have made plenty of sense. but that's true of like 90% of their scenes in this franchise, so *shrugs*

ANYWAY steve takes bucky in his arms (well technically yes he does) and brings him to safety, and on their way there, bucky proves once more just how hard he meant that "with you til the end of the line" from before

afterwards, steve is finally given the chance to fight, just like he wanted.

bucky, on the other hand, could very well leave the war behind and go home; but when he learns that steve is staying, he chooses to stay too, and fight by his side. and he tells steve so in this very intimate, softspoken, delightfully suggestive conversation, which can be summed up like this:

and so they walk right back into the heart of the fight, only this time together, as they were always meant to be!

but. during an especially tricky mission, they're surprised by the enemy, and as a result, bucky falls to his death into a deep ravine.

steve is devastated. overwhelmed with guilt, grief and rage, he vows to bring down the people responsible for his loss, even if it costs him his own life.

and um, it kind of does? cost him his own life?

victorious after his last vis-a-vis with The Antagonist™, steve still chooses to sacrifice himself to prevent the catastrophe set into motion by the aforementioned Antagonist™. he's flying a jet over the frosty expanse of the atlantic, and you know, from the outside, you could easily argue that he could try to save himself. if he really wanted to. but with bucky dead, and the people responsible for all this pain, either dead or captured, it seems like all the will to fight is gone from steve; and so he plunges the jet straight into the ocean, and himself with it.

is this the end of their story?, you might ask.

the answer is: of course not!!!! the best is yet to come, babes!!!

EDIT: here is part 2

[agaypanic]

Hi! Congratulations on graduating! I have a request for a Francis x reader (Malcom in the middle). I just started watching the show and I'm like in love with him. Anyways could you write about how while Francis is away his family gets new neighbors, and the reader is the daughter of the neighbors. She's really smart and shy. Malcom develops a huge crush on the reader and tells Francis all about it once he returns from military school. Francis starts teasing Malcom thinking the reader is malcoms age, however Lois invites the neighbors over for dinner to properly introduce each other. When they come over Francis is completely ready to tease his younger brother and his little crush however when the reader walks in and she's not who expected he's starstruck!And he ends up completely speechless the whole dinner having to watch Malcom awfully flirt with who he thinks is the love of his life.i can't decide how I want it to end sooo... But maybe he ends up pulling the reader aside flirting with her watching her get all flustered and then the reader admitted he's cute while being all reed in the face! I just want a cute fluffy happy ending!!😭😭

The Boy Next Door's Brother (Francis Wilkerson X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Part 2

Summary: All Francis hears from Malcolm these days is how cute the new neighbor girl is. Imagine his surprise when he comes home for the weekend to find that the neighbor girl is his age and Malcolm is still trying to impress her.

A/N: M/n means mom’s name and D/n means dad’s name

***

Francis loved his brother. He really did. They had a deep bond created through the traumatic experience of having an insane mother. Nothing could ever break that.

But he was getting sick and tired of Malcolm’s phone calls. Every time without fail, he found a way to bring up their new neighbor. Despite how much Malcolm talked about her, Francis didn’t really know much. Just that her name was Y/n, she had moved there about a month ago, and she was really nice.

Francis would be coming home from military school for the weekend, and he was slightly dreading it. Not just because he’d have to deal with his overbearing mother. If he was annoyed with Malcolm and his infatuation with the neighbor girl while thousands of miles away, imagine how he’d be while living in the same house.

After a long flight, Hal picked Francis up from the airport, and soon enough, they were home. Francis now felt relieved because he could lounge around for the weekend and not worry about homework or ways that Commandant Spangler would be out to get him. His brothers were absolutely ecstatic to see him, pushing each other to get to him first. Although he wanted to rest, Francis was happy to see his little brothers as well.

“Hey, Francis!” His mom yelled from the kitchen, scrubbing dishes. “How was your flight?”

“It was fine.” He responded, tossing his travel bag on the couch. “What’s for dinner?”

“Spaghetti and meatballs. Oh! I forgot to tell you, but we’re having the new neighbors over for dinner tonight. They finally got settled into the house, and we need them on our side before anyone else in the neighborhood tries to poison them against us.”

“Ah yes, normal neighbor activities.”

Francis was suddenly excited. Even though Malcolm going on and on about Y/n annoyed him, he was curious to see the girl that Malcolm wouldn’t shut up about. 

“So, Malcolm, heard your girlfriend’s coming over,” Francis smirked as he teased his brother. Malcolm started to blush, the redness reaching his ears.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” He muttered.

“Are you sure?” Francis asked. “The way you talk about her, I thought you guys were getting married.”

“Shut up!” Malcolm whined, but there was a shy smile on his face.

***

A few hours later, it was dinnertime. While Lois served up dinner, Francis heard a knock on the door. Malcolm raced to the door but was beaten to it by his brother.

“Francis, come on!”

“No, I wanna see the girl you keep talking about.” He pushed his little brother away and opened the door. A couple stood on the doorstep with shy but pleasant smiles.

“Hi there!” The man spoke. “I’m D/n, this is my wife M/n, and our daughter Y/n should be coming soon. She’s finishing up her homework.”

“Nice to meet you guys. I’m Francis, the oldest. Come on in.” He allowed the couple inside, and they went to the kitchen to greet the family. He was about to close the door behind him when he heard a shout.

“Wait!” He stuck his head out the door and saw a girl running across her yard to get to the door. “Don’t close the door, please!”

Francis opened it wider for the girl. When she was closer to his view, he couldn’t help but be amazed by the sight in front of him. All this time, Francis thought that Y/n was Malcolm’s age. But as it turns out, she seemed more around his age. They’d probably be in the same grade if they were in school together. Reaching the front step, he was even more taken aback by how pretty she was.

“Hi.” She said, slightly out of breath. “I’m Y/n.”

“I’m Francis.” He had to push his way through the response. “I’m the oldest brother.”

“Really?” Y/n asked as he let her into the house. “I’ve never seen you before.”

“I, uh, I go to military school in Alabama.”

“Wow, you must’ve come a long way then!”

“Hey, Y/n.” Francis suddenly became annoyed again. Malcolm was leaning against the wall with a sly smile, staring up at the girl. She grinned.

“Hey, Malcolm! How have you been?” They started their own conversation, leaving Francis alone with his thoughts as they walked to the table. Shaking his head to refocus, Francis followed after them.

Francis felt both blessed and cursed. He was seated next to Y/n, but Malcolm was on the other side of her. He constantly tried to flirt with her, and Francis didn’t know whether to laugh or cringe. Luckily, Y/n started talking to Francis halfway through the dinner, seemingly very interested in his life. Much to Malcolm’s annoyance, their conversation lasted way past dinner, branching off into different topics of interest.

“He might kill me for telling you this.” Francis started, picking at a loose wood chip on the picnic table in his parent’s backyard. “But Malcolm talks to me about you all the time.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet.” Y/n smiled.

“Yeah, but I didn’t expect you to be my age. I totally thought you were a middle schooler, the way he kept talking about you.” She started laughing, and it felt so contagious that Francis couldn’t help but laugh along with her.

“Malcolm’s such a sweetheart. He’s like a little brother if I’m being honest.” If only Malcolm knew that. 

“You know, I also didn’t expect you to be so pretty.” Francis felt bold for flirting with a girl he had just met and that his brother had a crush on. But he just couldn’t help it. Maybe it was the crazy hormones his dad told him about when giving him the talk, but Francis felt like he was having a real connection with this girl.

Y/n tried to cover up her flushed cheeks and giddy smile, but it was useless.

“I can’t believe Malcolm never told me he had an older brother.” Building up courage, she started tracing shapes on the table and fiddling with her hair. “Although, even if he did, I wouldn’t have guessed that you would be this cute.” 

The two teens grinned shyly at each other. The rest of the night was filled with more conversations and flirtations. They talked so long that by the time Y/n said she should probably go home, her parents were already gone, and the Wilkerson family had all dispersed to do their own things.

“You didn’t have to walk me back. I mean, after all, I’m right next door.” Y/n said as she reached her front door, turning to Francis. He shrugged.

“Yeah, I know. But I like talking to you.” She grinned, and he took a deep breath, preparing to make his move. “So, look, I’m leaving tomorrow afternoon. And I’d rather hear about you and your day from you instead of my brother, so… I was wondering if I could have your number?” He didn’t know why he was so nervous. But all nerves were put at ease when Y/n’s smile widened.

“Of course! Let me grab a marker.” Y/n opened the front door and sifted through the junk drawer in the stand next to it. She pulled out a sharpie and grabbed Francis’ wrist. They both blushed at the contact. “Call me anytime.” She capped the marker, looking at him.

“Definitely.” Deciding to make another move, Francis leaned forward and kissed her cheek, backing away immediately after in slight fear of an opposing reaction. “Good night, Y/n.”

“Good night, Francis.” She quickly kissed his cheek in return before making her way inside, closing the door behind her. Francis went home with some lip gloss residue on his cheek and a smile plastered on his lips. He quietly opened and closed the door, reminiscent of how he would when he still lived at home and would sneak in and out after curfew.

Francis got ready for bed and walked to his bed, which was the couch that sat in front of the TV. He was surprised to see Malcolm standing there waiting for him, arms crossed with a scowl.

“I can’t believe you would mess with my game like that, Francis!” He scolded. Francis laughed, messing with his brother’s hair and pushing him away from his makeshift bed.

“You don’t have any game for me to mess with, little brother.” He laid down on the couch, stretching his limbs. “Now go away.”

[hatterladz]

Ok now my actual thoughts

Spoils for 357

I'm gonna focus this on the fight. Now as much as Oswald completely INFURIATED me this chapter, I can't just walk away saying he's the worst. Listen I analyze problematic characters for a hobby I can't just wash my hands and walk away because someone did something that made me mad.

I can see why it spiralled so quickly on both parts, Fanny is struggling to get a foothold in her life [god the part of her wanting to cry about getting actual support bc she never had any is so SO relatable]. I mean she left her husband the previous night, is now being bodyguarded by the brother of the person she barely gets around to apologizing to, got fired got hired again at the Quester's House and is watching and seeing how unique every one of the sick are when her ex walks in out of nowhere.

She's reeling, I imagine her emotional regulation is shot to hell and back and then Oswald tells her hey you know this super nice good thing that JUST happened to you? You don't deserve it.

Now onto Oswald. Oswald walks in trying to help Felix. And I mentioned it before reading the chapter, Oswald has the worst habit of assuming and acting on his preconceived sense of justice before actually figuring things out. He has good intentions just the WORST way of acting on it

And to him, the Fanny he knows is the one from his toxic relationship with her. The Fanny he remembers wasn't ever a nurse, hadn't gone through the same recent events that she just did to make her the very slightly better person she is now. As absolutely rage enducing that he was, there wasn't a sign of him trying to start something.

He was trying to avoid other people being hurt. Through terrible means. Because he remembers how much Fanny hurt him.

Fanny, after having everything happen to her that just did and then her ex walking through the door and saying "You're too bad of a person to have this good thing" AFTER Cup just tried to assure her she just had to do better AFTER Red offered her a job because her friend knows and AFTER she just got invited to this warm family dinner. And the more Oswald pushed the more he emphasized that point.

And the more he said it the more Fanny fell back on both of their old patterns. Snapping back over and over until Oswald threatens to bring in her awful father and until she also brings up Felix.

Now I'm going to be honest while the threat is there along with the intent, I'm sure Felix and Oswald will be fine. There's a good chunk of zanies, who won't care, people who live with zanies who will be forced to get over it and the questers maybe not without knowing from the others, have long since grown past being homophobic [asides maybe Boris but I don't see him being homophobic] or weren't in the first place

The house will keep the gossip under control, there might be a slip but I doubt Red or Oddswell will let that fly. But I could be wrong we'll see. At the very least Bendy won't be and we've already seen how much sway he has over the household.

Now onto the respective parties reactions. Felix running out isn't surprising and I doubt it's just because he's bi. He just watched the man he brought into the house to come support him start harrassing this woman seemingly for no reason, and then got outted and told he looks like Ortensia. Because let's be real, although Felix is told he is REMINDED of Oswald's wife he's never been told he looks IDENTICAL to her. And he just watched said man try to hit this girl.

Now I'm going to give Fanny some credit here, she's dealing with her toxic ex but not ONCE does she let Cup get involved. Every moment it looks like he's about to prior to Oswald's attempt to hit her, she sees it and cuts Cup off. And I'm happy for her for that, she really does care about Cup's wellbeing that when she sees him about to get involved in her mess she prevents it from happening.

Now what took me by surprise is it wasn't Oswald that left, it was Fanny. Fanny was the one who left out of shame [who could blame her], and Fanny was the one who tells Cup to leave since she's in a toxic mindset. I was also curious as to why Mugs didn't try to follow her out instead of Cup, since Mugs is her bodyguard and seemed pretty insistent on keeping Cup uninvolved. Something tells me he's sticking around for the Oswald situation, or maybe that's wishful thinking.

Still maintaining my love hate relationship of Cup getting further and further involved with Fanny. He's trying hard to be a good friend to her, he cares a lot and he wants to help because Fanny's situation is one he can try to understand and help with. However it does mean it can get messy, especially with the divorce and people see the two together.

[plastictoyphone]

Attachment Will Bring Me To My Doom

(The long awaited Black backstory)

Peeps the time has come: @kijimha @city-of-c0rpses @joanbarrie @fedya-the-rat-god @myluckymoon @respiratory-kristem

"Our baby boy..... We will love you forever." Those were the first words I ever remember my mother saying to me. I was barely a few months old yet that loving memory is still faint in the back of my mind. Slowly fading away from my subconscious.

I would have been lucky. A loving mother, a proud father, excited and supportive brothers. Yet I was unlucky. For I was stuck with this curse that has taken everything away from me.

It was all an accident too.....

Most parents would be excited and proud when their baby says their first word. Mine was mommy. It was easy to roll off the tongue and that's who I wanted most when it came to attention. Mommy, I wanted mommy to hold me. To feed me, to love me, to speak to me, I wanted her.

"Mommy." I wailed in my crib. I can't remember how old I was or the memory so well. The only thing I can remember was waking up that night in a cold sweat and a bad cough. A poor sick little child wanting his mother to comfort him.

Make it stop.

"Mommy." 96. I cried again when she didn't come.

Make it stop.

"Mommy!" 97

Stop it!

"Mommy!!!" 98

STOP THIS! JUST STOP TALKING! KEEP SILENT!

"MOMMY!!!" 99

I don't remember much, other than the faint sounds of her slippers tapping the floor and the warmth of her arms as she scooped me up. Her soft voice comforting me. "You okay my baby boy?"

I shivered in her arms before closing my eyes. "Cold....." 100.

I never saw my mother from that day forward ever again.

In fact I never saw the rest of my family from that day forward ever again as well. All I know is these 4 white walls and complete utter isolation with no contact from the outside world. I had no name as well. I used to have one before I was taken away by a facility, but I was given a new one. Or multiple I should say.

Rey was the common one. So was child 89, Mute, silent killer, "that kid", and most of all Black. To the facility I wasn't a child to them. In all reality I was some uncontrolled weapon of a monster who would kill anyone by a single touch if I spoke too much.

They tried to "cure me" at this facility. Testing to see if I can be stable enough for the outside world. Yet those moments were nothing but pain.

I would kick and scream every time the "doctors" tried to take me to a examining room. I was scared, I didn't care if my screaming for help or to be let go was going to get someone killed. I didn't want to go through another experiment or examination. I'm tired of the needles, the pills, the electro shocks, or anything that would keep me quiet.

Worst of all the doctors would lock a iron muzzle on my face, locking my jaw shut so I couldn't speak. Those were the worst moments because I felt so powerless in those moments. All I could do is sit in my cell, sitting in a straitjacket with no freedom to move around more utter a single sound.

These 4 walls became my life. And so did that man. The head of the facility. I didn't bother to remember his name or face. Why should I when all he repeated to me was, "Try not to get attached to people, 89. It's for your own good and for the rest of the world as well. Everything that you will love will die by your hand. It's best to keep your distance and stay far away. So no one can ever get hurt."

So I obey those orders.

Because in the end someone did end up getting hurt because of me. For once in my life the facility let me out of my so called home and out into the real world for just a month. To test the waters if I was stable enough.

At the time I was 17, they put me into a high school, yet I was barely given any schooling about the real world or how people act. All I knew to do was to keep quiet and count how many times I spoke a single word. In order to communicate I would pass notes and lie that I was a mute. This would keep most people away from me so no one got hurt. If they ignore me because I'm a mute then they won't get hurt or killed by me.

Yet it still happened. Even when I tried to keep my distance someone had to die by my hand. All because I wanted to help.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. Some girl at school invited me to her house party, it's what you would normally expect from any drama show or movie. Lots of people, underage drinking, smoking, drinking games, a couple making out in the back. I only went because I didn't know how to say no.

Though I wish I didn't go. Because that night the girl who invited me was getting harassed by some guys. I wanted to step in, after all she was nice to me. Yet I lost count of how many words I have spoken. And by the graze of her hand on my shoulder, everything fell apart.....

I never saw that girl or that house ever again.

The facility immediately took me back after the incident. After that it was back to every day life within these 4 walls. That was until one night I was sleeping peacefully in my bed, unaware that someone was out for my blood.

There was a hand tight against my neck and I jolt awake to see a guy older than me with a knife, ready to kill me. I panicked of course, how could I not? I seen this guy before. He was the older brother of that girl who invited me to the party. From the piercing look in his eyes, I can tell he was out to get me for the incident.

I don't know how but after a bunch of struggle and bashing our heads against walls and glass, we ended up outside in the deep woods. I was trying to run but he was chasing up behind me. When I got near a river I attempted to leap over it but he tackled me and dunked me underwater, his hands around my throat as I struggle and kick to no avail. I was power less underwater and I was losing air.

This was the end of me.....

That was until the man's hand let go of my throat and somebody else yanked me out of the water when I fell unconscious. Soon before I knew it I was coughing up water and leaning against a tree. Stood before me was a tan guy with glasses and yellow eyes.

His name was Nicholas. I called him my brother once he took me in thay day. Now I'm with this Mafia organization called XY for a couple of years now. It's quite nice. The people here are a little weird but it's my kind of weird.

For once it feels like I have a family to call my own.

Yet I'm scared. I still keep my distance away from everyone else. Standing in the dark shadows while everyone else has fun in the light. Because if I step into the light then I'll get attached. And attachment will bring me to my doom. Keep my distance and no one gets hurt.

That's how it will always be.

[kasagia]

My (and your) tears ricochet

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x reader Summary: You and Klaus have a difficult relationship. For 500 years, you bond, break up, and get back together, being both your worst nightmares and your longed-for dreams. But after Lucien bites you and you die in Klaus' arms, the true feelings of your "lover" come out. And you're as delighted as devastated. Warning(s): angst, de@th, mourn, mentions of depression/mental breakdown, vampire violence, a bit of comfort at the end Word count: 5k+ Inspired by: "My tears ricochet" - Taylor Swift

We gather here, we line up, weepin' in a sunlit room

I never thought this would be my end. Killed by one of Klaus' many enemies because I rushed to save the love of my life. An Y/N from 200 years ago would have laughed in my face for my own stupidity.

To die for Klaus Mikaelson - the enemy of my family, the bane of my existence, and the only one I ever truly desired.

It would have been as improbable to my past self as the entire Mikaelson family mourning me with my sister Katherine by their side.

Yet I was here. In the spirit world, watching the original vampires and Kath line up in front of my coffin, they silently watched the sunlight illuminate my gray, lifeless face.

Maybe Klaus was supposed to be my undoing after all.

At least Katerina put me in a nice dress.

Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe All the hell you gave me?

Involuntarily, I began to reminisce about the events leading up to my unexpected death, as I was looking at Klaus' stone, emotionless face.

"What? I betrayed you?! I should've seen that coming. After everything I do and sacrifice for you, you still can't trust me, can you? I'll never be your precious Camille."

"Don't bring her to this! I'll ask you just once more and for your own good, love, tell me the truth. Did you tell Aurora about her?!"

"No Klaus. I didn't tell your psychopathic ex that you were fucking your therapist. You have to find someone else to blame for her death."

"I didn't fuck with her."

"And I don't care."

I turned away from him to leave his studio, but the man grabbed my arm in a strong, aching grip, effectively stopping me. I turned to meet his furious gaze again.

"We're not finished."

"YES, WE ARE! I'm so done with being a toy you can throw out and take back whenever you want! I deserve something more than a hybrid who has an existential problem with himself and thousands of enemies on his back. I'm done with you and whatever is between us. You're not worthy of my time, and I'm so dumb to believe that you can feel something more than anger or a desire for power. Mikael was right about you. You're just a scared boy who is pushing everyone away from you because you're too afraid of being betrayed."

I burst out, fed up with his sick attitude. From the moment I arrived at his call, he treated me with fucking hostility and distance. After everything we've been through together, I didn't deserve to be treated like a traitor. 

At least that's what I told myself to keep from falling apart, seeing the complete lack of love for me in his captivating eyes, which I loved as much as the day we first met.

"Calm down. I've killed people for lesser slander. You're lucky you're still breathing, love." he whispered, placing his hand on my neck and squeezing it lightly to remind me that he could end my life at any moment. Good thing I was never afraid of him.

"And you're lucky to still have someone by your side after hurting your whole family again and again. This killing of everyone out of fear that someone would dare lay hand on you is pathetic. And as you can see, it doesn't quite work well." I snarled, yanking my arm out of his grip and walking away from the even angrier man than before.

After all, the one that wins will be the one that hits the hardest. This was always our guiding principle whenever we argued and broke up for a couple of decades.

'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you 'Til my dying day

"Are you leaving so soon, sister? You just came." Katherine asked as I ran down the stairs towards the exit of the mansion.

"Well, apparently my presence is not needed here. In the house of the great Klaus Mikaelson, there is no place for vile traitors and untrustworthy whores."

"You can not fool me! I know what you really think and feel. And I sympathize with you with all my heart. You're making the right choice, little sister. He is not worthy of your love."

"I didn't ask for your opinion." I growled, unable to bear what she was saying and knowing that it was true.

"You still love him... after everything he has done, after he pretended to be with this bartander and broke your heart..."

"Once again. I didn't ask about your opinion, Katerina." I interrupted her to hurry out of the house. If I had known then that this would be one of our last conversations…

And you're the hero flying around, saving face

"What the hell do you think you're doing?! Lucien is running around trying to get to my loved ones at all costs, and you're taking bloody walks around New Orleans?!" Klaus was yelling at me after he pushed me against the wall of one of the alleys.

"You just answered yourself. Lucien is after your loved ones, and I am not one of them."

"Stupid woman, can't you see how much you mean to me?!"

"You've shown me this for the last fucking weeks by flirting with Aurora and playing Camille's damn boyfriend!"

"I did it to protect you!"

"Not telling me anything, keeping me like a prisoner in your house, and treating me worse than an enemy - this is what you call a fucking protection?!"

"How else was I supposed to keep you from participating in a war that wasn't yours and keep you safe at the same time?!"

"It would be too easy to let me know your plans, wouldn't it?"

"Can't you understand that I can't let anything happen to you?! That losing you too will be the final nail in my coffin!"

Suddenly, a strange, disturbing feeling came over me.

"Klaus."

"No. Let me finally end this and tell what's should be told 500 houndreds bloody years ago." Completely unable to focus on Klaus' words, I glanced over to see what was going on behind him. Lucien pointed the pistol at him with a smirk. Whatever was loaded into the gun, it couldn't end well. "Y/N, I love…"

The shot drowned out what he wanted to say. In an instant, I switched places with him, taking a shot at myself. I gasped as I felt my cool blood begin to ooze from the newly formed wound. My gaze, however, stayed hard on Klaus' terrified eyes.

Lucien's venom.

"Y/N!" his scream managed to cut through my dazed body before I collapsed limply on top of him, sinking into the enticing, blissful darkness.

We gather stones, never knowing what they'll mean Some to throw, some to make a diamond ring

"I don't see a bit of sense in what we're doing." Klaus whined as we walked along the lakeshore. Every now and then I would stop to pick up a nicer pebble and put it in one of our pouches.

"Don't be grumpy, old man. Had you never done this when you were a child?"

"We had other activities. Hunting, learning to fight, mother being one of the more ambitious decided to teach us to read and write - looking at Elijah, one of her worst ideas. We had all kinds of holidays, but we never did something as stupid as collecting useless stones."

"My God, you're worse than Katerina. Shouldn't you, as an artist, see beauty even in something as simple as stone? Besides, what if we happen to come across a diamond thrown away by some rich aristocrat's angry mistress? I'm about to waste my chance at finding a ridiculously expensive gem just because you're particularly cranky today." I asked indignantly, pulling him closer to me and smirking as I waited for his response.

"Your overactive imagination worries me sometimes. Also, I'm capable of giving you your own diamond if you want." he replied, unconvinced, staring at me with feigned concern. Sparks of amusement shone in his mesmerizingly beautiful eyes.

"As far as I remember, my imagination didn't bother you last night. You actually complimented it a lot."

"I won't answer that, just because, apparently, I'm the only one in our humble company who cares about a little tact."

"Well… you weren't last night." I kissed him briefly and run away from him laughing.

"Come here, you little tempting, irritating thing!" he shouted, chasing after me with his own smirk.

He grabbed me, pulling my back to his chest. I started laughing even more as he started placing small kisses down my neck.

"I can give you every little diamond ring you want. Just say a word." he whispered in my ear, nuzzling my jaw with his nose.

You know I didn't want to have to haunt you But what a ghostly scene

Consciousness slowly began to return to my body. I felt like I was in a sea of ​​verbena. Every little muscle burned with hellish pain.

I must have been in hell.

"Not yet, love. I won't let you get away from me that easily. You must fight." his voice instantly brought me back.

I struggled to open my eyes, hissing at the blinding sunlight. The man sitting by my bed rushed to the windows, covering them, before immediately returning to sit by my side. I felt a sudden pressure on my skull. I angrily pushed his hand away, severing the connection between us.

"Get out of my mind." I wheezed, wincing as I heard my hoarse voice. The hybrid, undaunted by my condition, moved closer to me and handed me a glass of blood from the bedside table.

"Make me, love. I dare you." he whispered as he watched me greedily drink the red liquid.

He helped me hold the glass in my hand, embracing it and stroking it tenderly with his thumb. Had it not been for the knowledge that I would die in a few hours, I might have found the whole scene romantic.

"You know that even if you throw me a thousand challenges, you won't keep me for long. I'm gonna die, Klaus. Like Finn and Cami."

"NO. I will not let you. I'll go to Lucien and snatch this damned cure from his throat."

"Klaus, I'm already dead. There is no need…" he cut me off, tangling his hand in my hair to pull me into a desperate, demanding, needy kiss.

I let the warmth of his lips touch me one last time, letting a soft moan escape my throat as the emotions I felt became too much for me to hide any longer. He grabbed my waist, pulling me to him so that I was sitting on his lap. We broke apart. I leaned my head against his forehead, staring into his tear-filled eyes.

"You can't leave me. Not like that."

"I guess I don't have much choice." I whispered in a trembling voice, stroking his cheek tenderly, trying to wipe the tears from his eyes. "Klaus? Earlier in this alley, before all this happened, You said you love me. I…" he didn't let me finish by pressing his lips against mine again.

"You can say you love me tomorrow. You won't die today, love." he kissed my forehead and left in such a hurry that I couldn't even try to talk him out of the stupid idea of chasing Lucien.

I could only hope he wouldn't do something stupid and share my fate.

You wear the same jewels that I gave you As you bury me

The funeral was not extraordinary or grand. By Mikaelson's standards, it was quite modest and therefore more personal. It was good to know they'd miss my presence, but I couldn't focus on anyone but Klaus.

He was strangely calm. Emotionless, expressionless. Like a dead sculpture. My concern for the vampire only increased when I saw the necklace (which I gave him for his 1,000th birthday) with the pendant of a wolf howling at the moon hanging proudly from his neck, gleaming in the sunlight. His blue eyes stared blankly at my coffin, which they were hiding in the crypt.

Somewhere in the distance, I could hear Katerina and Rebekah crying.

However, the one person I cared about and worried about ever since I left the world of the living spent the entire funeral in astonishing silence.

It was at that moment that I knew he wouldn't accept my departure so easily.

I smiled as I saw Elijah come over to comfort him afterward. My smile faded as the hybrid growled aggressively at him, shoved his brother away, and ran to a place only known to him.

It must have been harder for him than he dared show anyone.

"Please, let one of his siblings be able to get to him. Despite his best efforts to keep them at a distance."

And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake? Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet

If I thought the funeral was hard for Klaus, then the wake must be his true hell.

Most of the originals have recovered by now, sitting in their living room sipping drinks, recalling all the funny, sad, and crazy things that had to do with me.

I thought it would somehow ease his pain.

Katerina seemed a little cheerier as she talked about all the compromising situations that WERE SUPPOSED to go with me to the grave. But I couldn't really blame her. I would probably do the same in the reverse situation.

It was Kol who unwittingly unleashed the storm.

"Remember when Nik tried to propose to her in the 19th century, here in New Orleans?" my heart and the whole world around me stopped for a moment. Propose?

"What?! How?" my sister's surprised exclamation perfectly reflected my current state. I had no idea that idea could ever enter his head.

"He has had hundreds of attempts over the centuries, but at this time most of us thought he'd finally made it." a single tear escaped my eye as I lamented the future that would never happen. "I even spent all of my money from the safe in Chicago because Nik had planned to…"

The sound of shattering glass echoed through the room, silencing the original. Everyone's attention shifted to Klaus, who had shards of glass stuck in his hands. A trickle of blood began to form from his hand, staining the chair and the carpet beneath it.

"I have enough of this pathetic show." he snarled, brushing off the shards of glass as he walked away to his art studio. Rebekah and Elijah didn't give up so easily, catching up with him on the stairs.

"Is that how your life will look now? You'll growl at us every time we mention Y/…" 

"DON'T EVEN DARE SAY HER NAME!" he burst out, running to his studio. Elijah gave his sister a knowing look and returned to the living room, letting her do her thing.

Rebekah and I followed the hybrid, finding him in the middle of the ruined room, weeping over one of my portraits that had miraculously survived the crash. The blonde kneeled, hugging her brother and combing his hair comfortingly.

"Oh, Nik. That pain will never go away if you don't accept…"

"I WILL NEVER ACCEPT THIS!" he wrenched himself free from her grip, wary of the painting. "And this damn witch knew it! She enchanted me the first time I saw her. She put a dark spell on me, so I never found any other woman even a little bit as attractive as her. She is my heart, my half soul, my happiness, my sadness, and my madness, and now… now she is gone. And will be my curse for the rest of my life, Rebekah. Nothing can change that, especially not passing time, because every second, every minute, every hour, and every day without her by my side is meaningless."

"But you two were apart before, and you never acted like that, Nik."

"It was easier to let her go knowing she was happy and safe rather than cold and dead in some bloody tomb."

"And what about Hope? Your daughter, remember? You must be strong for her."

"Maybe it would have been better if she had never known the wasted shell I became after SHE left."

The blast of air (and all that mess) was all he left behind. Rebekah hesitantly reached for my portrait, staring at it with tears in her eyes.

However, it may not be so easy to let me go for all of them.

And I can go anywhere I want Anywhere I want, just not home

"You just beat yourself up more. By the way, he himself too." Cami's voice came from behind me. I turned to face her, leaving the hybrid alone with my crypt for a moment.

"I thought it was healthy to grieve a little over someone's death."

"Yes, but what you two are doing is obsessive and bordering on pre-depressive. You must let him go. And he you. Holding on to him will get you nowhere. If you don't want peace yet, you might as well travel to other places. You can go anywhere you want."

"Anywhere I want, just not home." I muttered bitterly, looking at the hybrid sitting across from my grave and sipping a bottle of bourbon.

"I don't think I can do anything here. Just remember you have a choice, okay?"

"You're going to find peace?"

"Yes, and don't make me wait there alone for long. Watching them won't help you. I'm so sorry, Y/N." she gave me one last comforting, sad smile and turned to leave.

"Good luck, Camille!" I called after her and turned on my way, approaching Klaus again.

"For you too. I hope you'll find your peace." I heard before the blonde was gone for good.

"I already did." I murmured, grabbing Klaus' hand, enjoying the slim chance of being close to him. At the very least, I could fool myself into thinking I was still with him. 

Because the truth was that I would never find my peace without him.

And you can aim for my heart, go for blood But you would still miss me in your bones

Klaus had slept for a week and stayed only in my bedroom, occasionally popping up to visit my grave. With a heavy heart, I laid down next to him on my bed, watching him sleep peacefully, hugging my pillow, and inhaling my scent left on it.

Involuntarily, I remembered my last hours in this bed.

"I will kill anyone you thought was your friend. I will tear out their throats and hearts one by one and torture them until they feel half as much pain as I will feel. I'll make this whole bloody world go up in flames, and it'll never rise from its fall, and neither will I if you leave me."

"Were you always so dramatic, or did it just happen in your old age?" I taunted, taking a sip of water to cover up my earlier sudden coughing fit from him. But I doubt I'll be able to explain the blood on the mirror if he looks in the bathroom when he returns.

"I'm not joking, love. If you die before I find a cure, I'll follow you straight to hell and drag you back with me. No one and nothing can take you from me."

"I'd find it romantic if you didn't presume that I'm the spawn of the devil. What if I'm an angel in disguise?"

"Then they did a fantastic job of camouflaging you. I have to go now, love. You have one task: Don't die. Can you do it?"

"I'll try. Nik, I lo..." he hung up before I could finish. "I love you, Nik." I whispered to myself, trying my hardest to control the sudden dizziness.

Klaus, whatever you're doing, please do it faster.

And I still talk to you (When I'm screaming at the sky) And when you can't sleep at night (You hear my stolen lullabies)

"I think you should go in the red one. This color has always suited you." I mumbled as I stood next to my sister and watched her look at herself in the mirror.

At one point, she sighed resignedly, falling onto the bed where Rebekah was sitting. The blonde pulled away from the phone, glancing at the doppelgänger.

"What's wrong with you this time? We went through all our wardrobes, and you didn't pick anything? You always look stunning, just go for something."

"Usually, it was Y/N who helped me choose a dress for a date."

The deafening silence that filled the room probably hurt me more than it hurt them. How I would love to be there with them.

"I'm… I'm sorry."

"You don't have to. How could you know? I just… really miss her."

"Yeah. Me too. All of us do."

"I'd probably borrow something from her if she was still here and if Klaus wasn't guarding her room like a vault."

"Speaking of him, I should probably check on him. If you can hear me in any way, take the little red one. Elijah will be delighted." I said getting out of bed and heading to my bedroom. I've probably spent more time in it as a ghost than a vampire.

I entered the room, neatly dodging the piles of books and clothes that Klaus had scattered around, looking for things that still smelled of me. I dreaded thinking what he would do when they were gone. Maybe he'll be in the mood to use my perfume instead and go outside? It was the best scenario.

I sighed, recognizing his curled form on the bed. He was wearing my favorite sweatpants and a (too big for me) sweatshirt. I was a little scared that he could easily fit into my clothes. Several bottles of alcohol and bags of blood were placed next to him. At least he was feeding. I sat next to him, running my hand through his hair (pretending to do so).

"I know it's hard for you and that you can't move on; come to terms with what happened. I'd probably be in much worse shape if I couldn't hear you, see your ridiculously handsome face. But you are stronger than me. Much stronger. You have to get out of this. For yourself, for your siblings, for Hope… for me." I began to cry, trying to somehow hug the also weeping hybrid. "I'm so sorry, Nik."

Suddenly, a very angry Hayley burst into the room with a nervous Elijah behind her.

"KLAUS! That's enough! You have to get yourself in order and get out of this hole. It will be best if you go for a walk with YOUR DAUGHTER. Do you still remember her? Hope misses you and has been restless for several weeks. I can't calm her down, so do your fatherly duty and move your ass, or I'll do it for you."

"Go away." he mumbled, not even looking up since they came in.

The brunette snorted, trying to take my blanket from him, which covered him. As soon as her hands were on the material, the hybrid growled, snatching it from her hands and pinning the woman by the neck to the wall.

"Touch her stuff again, and I'll make it the last thing you do in your miserable, meaningless life."

"Niklaus! Let her go!" I screamed along with Elijah. Klaus ignored his brother, only tightening his grip on the barely alive woman.

"Do you think Y/N would want you to kill your baby's mother?"

Luckily, this convinced the hybrid. He released Hayley from his grip and shoved them both out of the room, locking the door behind them. He threw himself heavily on the bed, inhaling my scent to calm himself down. After a while, tears started flowing from his eyes.

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same

The worst thing about this illness wasn't the debilitating pain. Loneliness was the worst.

Each of the Mikaelsons and Katerina were involved in obtaining the cure. They still had hope. But I resigned myself to my fate the moment Lucien's venom pierced my body with a wooden ball.

That didn't mean I wanted to die alone.

As if on cue, Katerina burst into my room and sat on the bed next to me. I could see her lips move, but I couldn't hear a sound in the world. It wasn't until she poured a glass of cold water over me that my complete consciousness returned to me.

"Are you crazy?!" I shouted. "If you want to get me to my grave faster, there are other ideas." Katerina stopped laughing and suddenly tensed up, glaring reproachfully at me.

"Don't even dare say that. You're not going to die, do you understand? Klaus is getting a cure right now. You will recover. I promise." she said, grabbing my hand and planting a kiss on my forehead, brushing sweaty, wet strands of hair out of my eyes.

"You may be the best liar that ever walked on this earth, but I always knew when you were lying."

"I'm glad I'm not doing it this time. You'll see, you'll be cruising around again in a few hours, avoiding Klaus' argument about obeying his orders."

"At least when I go to hell, I'll meet our father and kick his ass for separating you from Nadia. Maybe Mikael and Dahlia will be on my hit list too." I mumbled, giving in after several hours to the urge to close my eyes. Then I felt that I had been shivering with fever all this time.

"Y/N, open your eyes. You've got to open your eyes for me, just for a little while longer. Please, Y/N."

"We should saddle our horses today and take a ride to the lake. We haven't done that for a long time."

"We'll go to Bulgaria I promise, just open your eyes for me. Molya te, sestrichke otvori ochi."

"Obicham te Katerina." I whispered, feeling the last bloody tears fall from my eyes.

"Y/N! Wake up! Freya!" Katherine screamed in panic, trying to wake me up by shaking my shoulders.

The next few minutes were weightless as I waited to pass into the ghost world. With the remnants of my ebbing life, I felt the commotion around my bed. The bitter liquid was forced down my throat, and someone clenched my jaw to make sure I didn't spit out the horrible liquid. In the background, I could still hear Freya and Davina mumbling, Katerina and Rebekah crying, and Klaus screaming in rage before I was swallowed up in pain-relieving darkness for good.

Cursing my name, wishing I stayed You turned into your worst fears And you're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain Crossing out the good years And you're cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet

It's been a month and a half since my death, and Klaus has made one small, significant progress. He didn't throw his fangs at anyone who so much as uttered my name. After the attack on Hayley, he had controlled his aggression and was not a relative danger to society. Well… at least not more than usual.

I, on the other hand, felt much better than a months ago. My vampire speed somehow reactivated, saving me from chasing the rushing original for half a day. Also, watching my loved ones brought me some relief. Only Klaus was still stuck in place, unable to let me go.

Hayley and Freya joined forces to talk some sense into him and set him on the right path. But even their best efforts could not change the stubborn hybrid's mind.

That's how I got here. At my grave, watching Klaus clean it and add new flowers, throwing out the ones that had faded since his visit yesterday. I got more flowers from him after I died than I've had in 500 goddamn years.

He usually worked in silence, occasionally humming some old song I made him sing ages ago when I was upset. He has always had a wonderful voice.

But today, after a particularly bad fight with Hayley, Elijah, and Freya, he sat on the bench in front of my tombs and did something he hadn't done before. He was talking to me (or rather, to a stone slab with my name on it, but still).

"I know you wouldn't approve of my behavior. I know you would yell at me and get angry. My gods, I never imagined that I would miss it so much. I really wish I could be there for Hope, but I can't. I can't let her see me like this. Even if she's so little now. I know she needs me, but... everyone I love is dying. And I can't let anyone else die again because of me. Especially not my daughter. I want her to live. I want her to grow up. I want her to love, even if it brings you pain and sadness. Be a strong and beautiful woman, as you and her mother. I don't know what to do, Y/N. And I really wish that you were here to tell me, my little vampire."

A fountain of tears spilled from both his and my eyes. For the first time today, I reached for him, pulling him to me in a poor imitation of a hug.

The hybrid jumped up from the bench in fear, staring shocked and suspiciously at the place he had recently occupied. My heart beat faster. Did he? No. It is impossible. Klaus has the same incredulous look as mine. But what if…

"Y/N?" for the first time in these long, cold months, I shed a wave of relief tears. I sat there in shock, staring at the uncertain hybrid with unimaginable happiness. He could feel me. Like I him. "Please, show me it's you, and I'm not delusional."

I rushed over to him, hugging him with all my might. The hybrid almost knocked us to the ground. He probably didn't hear my loud laugh because he would have looked a little more offended than full of disbelief and happiness.

"I'll recognize that smell anywhere. Cruel woman, if you really are just a figment of my imagination and I make a fool of myself by running to my siblings with this, then know that I will meet you soon in hell and will not let your soul depart from me again." I slapped his shoulder for saying such nonsense, and he just laughed, gropingly trying to pull me closer to his chest.

I allowed myself, for the first time in months, to sink into the blissful feel of his warm skin. We needed a moment to ourselves before he shared this discovery with Freya, and their next fight to retrieve me from death's clutches began. For now, I enjoyed Klaus' clinginess.

"Don't even think that I'll deprive you of your touch for a moment. I'm going to hold you until the end of the bloody world." he whispered, moving around me from memory to put his chin on top of my head after he kissed me there softly.

It sounded good. But I knew it wouldn't be enough for us for long.

[thot-farm]

Domestic yandere Todoroki family part two

So, last post you may have been thinking 'only one of them shows any yandere tendencies, where is the spice?' The 𝓼𝓹𝓲𝓬𝓮 isn't here either, you get to spend time with Rei and you are going to like it 😠🫵.

Small notes:

I am a character ai goon that cheated or skipped all creative writing assignments in school, so if this is dog shit, it is what it is. This might actually be the first post I actually post that features my writing in detail.

I accidentally wrote with she/her and didn't even realize it, but I'm just going to leave it because it's smoother to read than y/n every other word, so if you want me to edit this for he/him or they/them, comment and I will with a separate tag

♡

You wake up in the morning to a cold feeling on your forehead. As you slowly wake up, you are a bit uncomfortable by the cold feeling and open your eyes to see a blurry pale arm and whiffs of citrus, vanilla and amber, Mom's perfume, impossible for you not to recognize. You get a little scared by the change since she hasn't woken you up in ages, you got used to Fuyumi's gentle voice, or Shoto pulling you out of bed with zero struggle like you are made of stuffing. You wonder if you did something wrong yesterday.

"Sh, sh, darling." Mom shushes gently, her hands trail down to your plump cheeks and rest there, her thumbs gently caressing your face, trying to calm you and your worries.

You try to blink away the sleep and fuzziness in your sight. You go to rub your eyes but Mom gently but swiftly takes hold of your little hands and brings them back down by your tummy.

"Sweetheart, Shoto caught a pretty nasty cold, so he won't be able to go to school..." Mom says with her gentle voice as she holds your hands.

Mom smiles as she watches the gears turn in your sleepy little head as you wonder how Shoto got sick, she lets go of your hands, her hands dip out of your view. "It looks like you haven't been bit by the sickie bug yet... Oh no baby... I think I see a bug in your bed." Mom says, her soft voice laced with concern.

You feel a tingling tickling sensation scurrying up your leg, which causes you to shoot out of your bed, kicking away blankets. Mom scoops you right up into her lap. "Don't worry darling," She holds up her hand that's curled into a loose fist "Mama caught the sickie bug, now it can't bite you," Mom says softly.

A small burst of frost comes from Mom's hand, your eyes widen with amazement as Mom kills the totally real bug, saving you from a bad cold and getting revenge on the evil bug that bit Shoto, like she always does when a sibling is sick.

Mom opens her hand, all that is left of the bug is a pile of snow. "Now that there is nothing left of the bug, help Mama blow all the snow away and wish for Shoto to get better," Mom says softly.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath and blow, wishing for Shoto's cold to go away. Once you open your eyes, you see snow flurries and sparkles flying away, you watch with amazement, seeing the flurries Dad never lets you go out and see.

You see red out of the corner of your eye, you look over to your doorway seeing Dad approaching your door. You wonder why Shoto being sick has gotten either of your parents' attention, you would think it would get you less like usual. You fiddle your thumbs together as turquoise eyes look over you.

"Rei, get her ready for school," Dad says, his voice deep, almost unrecognizable to you from how little you hear it. But you smell the same cologne as always, the one that wafts around every morning.

"But-" Mom begins, quickly cut off by Dad speaking again.

"You made a good point about Shoto and y/n needing to be away from each other more. He has been asking about her all morning and is refusing to eat without her, and if her teachers aren't exaggerating about her refusal to speak, then something must be done." Dad says in a serious tone, his eyes narrowed, but not at you or Mom. He doesn't wait any longer and just walks away from your door.

Dad's words leave you wondering what they had been talking about. But hearing Dad acknowledge how overbearing Shoto is makes you feel a lot of things, glad it's not just in your head, upset at Dad for not understanding you, but also worried about how Dad will 'fix' the problem with Shoto's behavior.

Mom stands up and carries you over to your chair and plops you down, facing you away from the mirror. You can tell she doesn't seem to trust Dad that much, but you don't understand why, he said she was right and all, that usually makes people happy or at least calm. But Mom makes the same face Shoto does around the time Dad comes home and she is gripping the hairbrush unnecessarily tight.

Mom, despite her tight grip, gently brushes your long white hair from the ends to your roots to straighten out what sleeping had done to your soft curls. Every time you try to move your head to look at her, she gently rests her other hand on your hand until you stop moving.

"Have you been brushing your hair every day, honey?" Mom asks in a soft tone, looking down into your grey eyes.

You nod confidently. You smile at how Fuyumi always helps brush through and style your hair in the morning. And internally you roll your eyes at how Shoto always winds up touching your hair at bedtime when you and him brush teeth, so you always wind up brushing your hair at night to make sure his icky boy cooties don't knot up your hair.

Mom gives a small smile when she sees your nod and smile, but you can tell she seems a little sad or something. You look up at her with a serious look.

Mom's smile gets wider seeing your baby face get serious. She leans down and kisses your head. "Don't worry, darling. I just want to make sure you're being a good girl. Now go brush your teeth." Mom says in a sweet tone, smiling softly.

You stand up from your chair and walk out of your room, as you walk to the bathroom across the hall, you brush some hair off your nightgown, trying not to wonder too much into Mom's behavior

Part three

[furiousgoldfish]

How do you continue to function when you're so burnout for decades long it paralyzed you from working properly? Ngl my life is a whole mess after 10 years trying to survive from my abuser. and I still don't know how to get back on my feet again without having a mental breakdown several times a week and feeling suicidal on top of it

and I'm too ashamed to talk about it to people, i did talk, they were understanding at first, but that doesn't stay long. You can only cry and whine once, after that, you're burdening them with your loads.

They'd say you continue fighting no matter what still and I do, fight still everyday in my life even if it's getting up from bed. But what I can't do is going to work, I just can't, it doesn’t help that i experience abuse too from the place i work at, had to quit abruptly at one occasion after the boss got physical with me

In this survival state, I mostly earned money from freelance job (and obviously it's not enough)

Everyone I'm close to is very frustrated with me because I didn't seem to be healed even though it's been this long. What I learned from it is that not to bring up my pain ever again and have to pretend I'm doing fine because that's what my family and friends can tolerate. That kind of isolation kills me, as if they didn't consider that i want to be healed too. no one else wants to survive my trauma more than me. I just don't know how and I can't see how it's possible.

Yeah I relate to this! It is very scary to be expected to be able to work and live independently while you're barely holding it together, unable to get up from bed.

I can only share my experience of this, and maybe it's not that helpful, but I want you to know that it can get better, and that people are wrong for expecting you to suddenly be okay after the experience of torturous abuse.

When I escaped, I had enough money from freelancing saved up so I could just rest for a few years (it was stressful, being scared the money would run out), but I was able to indulge fully in resting and not getting up when I didn't want to. I spent years just laying in bed and trying to work trough the trauma and get the feelings of pain and terror out, and it worked to some extent, I started feeling a little less tired after three years!

I started working very infrequently, odd little jobs, helping neighbours for a bit of money, helping the disabled people or cleaning when I could, and it would just be a few hours of work, and I'd be completely drained after that. But again, giving myself plenty of space and time to rest helped me a lot, and then later working on my osdd also helped me restore some of the energy.

I can work only 2-3 days a week now, for a few hours, and it's enough to survive in poverty, if I don't buy anything, so this is what I do. I'm lucky that I'm able to share my bills and rent with roommates and make my own food, and that I'm so used to poverty it doesn't specifically bother me. I still get sad sometimes that I can't have an actual real job and live more safely, but I'm alive, I'm not tormented, and I spend a lot of time resting, and just tell people 'I'm sick' if they ask questions.

I think freelancing, doing a few hours of work infrequently or just slowly letting yourself recover until you can do something for a bit worked great for me, but I also understand it's not something that will work for anyone. If you're stuck not being able to save up, or work enough that you could pay even a part of your rent, that feels debilitating and scary, it doesn't let you plan for the future, it doesn't feel like you can even complain to people as they're unwilling to listen. I am so sorry for what you're going trough, it's legitimately a bad situation, and it's only natural for you to struggle like this after so much abuse. I believe you need to have as much rest as you need and if one day you get a little better, you might be able to figure it out, and if not, I hope at least people take you more seriously and understand that this is real pain, real fear of losing a future over abuse.

[dumbasspimpster]

Katherine

Back then. "You make me sick" said Katherine. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

I squirmed and looked down at the table. I pushed my used napkin back and forth. I wanted to die. "I can't help it."

"It's hard enough that everyone wants me to *lose* weight! And now... this? Do you have any idea what that's like?!" she shouted. Her mascara was starting to run. She folded her arms as if she wanted to shrink into the booth.

"But you're beautiful, and I am telling you that I think so!"

"No! You can't find *this* attractive!" she said, gesturing over her body with her hands for emphasis. "I just... can't!"

But even as I sat there watching her slip away from me, puffy eyes, mascara running, tears soaking her shirt, I considered her the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on. Such a beautiful face, such lovely skin, such luscious hair, such pretty eyes. She was perfect in so many ways. And yet she couldn't overlook the one flaw that everyone attributed to her, that I had told her wasn't even a flaw to me, that genuinely made her even more attractive and worthy to me. And I was going to lose her for it. Why did I ever have to bring it up?

"You're wrong" I said. "You're perfect to me."

She looked back at me and her face contorted in anger. "I don't want to be perfect to you!" she shouted. "I just want to be perfect... period!"

I said nothing. We just glared at each other.

"I'm going to lose the weight" she said finally.

"Fine" I said. "You'll still be beautiful." I honestly believed that she would be.

"Yeah right!" she said. "So go find yourself an actual fat chick!"

"I guess I will" I said. "Because you have some real fucking issues."

"I have issues?! You're the one who LIKES FUCKING FAT CHICKS!" she shouted. The whole restaurant went quiet. Everyone was looking at us, the teenage couple having a fight.

"I'm going now" I said, summoning up my dignity. I got up, took a 20 dollar bill from my wallet, and put it down on the table. "To find myself an actual fat chick, without all the issues" I said cruelly. "Goodbye."

I started walking away. "No" she said. "Wait Bry! Bryan, wait!" she cried after me. But I was out the door. I kept my back turned so she wouldn't see that I was crying too.

---

Present day. I am successful and married with two children with my wife Alyssa.

Alyssa is my best friend. We met at a sales seminar back in our mid-twenties. She was a chubby blonde with a sweet smile and a sunny disposition. We hit it off instantly and have got along famously since. We have pretty much all the same interests. We have a loving, trusting relationship.

A few years ago, Alyssa discovered running. It's gone great for her, and she's slimmed down considerably since. I love her and support her and am happy that she feels better about herself and is healthier. I hope she lives long and we raise our kids and grandkids and die in the old folks' home together.

But our sex life has suffered. We've gone from having sex three or more times a week to once every week or two. We're busy parents so it's difficult already. Things just aren't what they used to be for us.

There is an urge growing inside me to stray. It's everywhere I go, in crowds of people, my eye is drawn to attractive women and their bodies. Searching for opportunities that I can't act on. Fantasizing about what it would be like.

Alyssa and I talked about it, years ago, about having an open relationship. On one hand, she said of course we shouldn't expect to have sex with the same person for the rest of our lives. On the other hand, she was crying. We never talked about it since. It's too painful to think of.

I'm on a trip back to my hometown for work. I haven't been back since high school. I ring up some of my old buddies and we get together for beers. We get right hammered and the conversation turns from our careers and our families to our past conquests.

"Hey" says Mark. "What was the name of that chick you were dating in Grade 11?"

"Which one?" I reply. "There were a couple."

"The chubby one. With the pretty eyes" said Mark, drunkenly. "The one who broke up with you."

My heart sinks. It's painful for me to remember. "Kat" I reply.

"Yeah, her" says Mark. "Pretty face. Too bad she was so chubby."

"Broke my heart" I say.

"You should call her up" says Mark.

"No way!" I say.

"Yeah way!" he says. "Wait, I can find her on Facebook."

Facebook. Shit, I thought. It's impossible to just forget someone and leave them behind anymore in this day and age.

Mark plays around with his phone. "Aha!" he said. "Found her! See, pretty face."

He shows me the phone screen. My heart drops on seeing Kat again. The photo is old, she is young and beautiful and as I remember her.

"She doesn't want to hear from me" I say.

"Don't be a pussy" says Mark. "Here, I'm going to message her for you."

"No!" I say, and I reach for the phone but Mark turns away and taps at his screen. I hesitate. A part of me wants to go with the flow.

"There!" he says. He shows me the message he sent with the friend request.

"Oh God, Mark. I'm married, don't you know?"

"Yeah, to a woman 1000 miles away" he responds.

Mark taps away at his phone some more. We order another round of beers. The bar is starting to empty out.

"Oh shit!" says Mark. "She replied!"

"Why do you gotta do this" I ask him, taking his phone. The reply is short and includes her new phone number. I pull out my phone and start texting her.

"Kat?"

"Its been a while"

My judgement is impaired and my inhibitions are gone. Over text, we pick up on the page we left off on.

---

One hour later, I take an Uber to Kats apartment. My nervousness is palpable. Every minute I am in the car feels unbearable. Every step up to her apartment feels like an undertaking.

I reach the door. I take a few minutes to gather up my courage, and then I knock. I hear her footsteps, then the latch of the door. Over a decade later and she could have become anything, and I am about to find out in moments. The door opens.

Kat is just as beautiful. And she's become massive.

"Kat..." I stutter, still drunk.

"Hello, Bry" she replies. I gawk at her for a moment. "Surprise!" she says, sardonically, "I got fat!"

"You're just as beautiful as I remember" I say. "More beautiful."

"Shut up and come inside" she says. "You're drunk."

I step inside. Her apartment is small but clean, with no sign of any cats. She leads me to the living room and sits me down with a tender touch on the shoulder. "Sit down" she says, "I'll make you some coffee."

She leaves to the kitchen and I watch her go. I am floored by the sheer size of her. She catches me watching over her should and my face flushes. I sit there and try to compose myself for the next few minutes. When she comes back with the coffee, I smile at her, but she doesn't return it. She pours the coffee without looking at me and sits down next to me. As she sits down, the couch creaks and the floor groans and the fat of her hip expands towards me, leaving very little space between us. She crosses her arms and seems to want to shrink into the couch.

"Thanks for the coffee" I say.

"Why are you here?" she asks.

"I'm meeting a client in town" I respond.

"I don't even know what you do" she says. "No, I mean, why are you *here*?" Meaning in her apartment with her.

"I wanted to reconnect" I say.

"Reconnect?" she says.

"Yeah" I reply. "Why did you invite me here?"

"I don't know" she says, twirling her hair. It's a gesture of vulnerability that I wouldn't have recognized from her when we were younger. She was so confident back then, so insecure at the same time. Putting up a façade all the time. She has changed over the years.

She looks at my ring. "I see you're married."

"I see you're not married" I replied.

"Well, shouldn't surprise anyone." she says. Meaning her body. There is an awkward silence and we say no more on the subject of marriages.

"Why did you break up with me?" I ask.

"Break up with you? Why did you break up with me?" she replies.

"You told me I disgusted you" I reply.

"Well I wonder why?" she says. "You told me I would be more attractive if I gained weight."

"No" I say. "Not exactly."

"Yes!" she says. "I said I was worried about gaining weight, and you said, 'Don't worry' because I will only be even more attractive."

"Okay" I say, "What's wrong with that?"

"I had body image issues!" she says. "It messed me up."

"I didn't know that" I say.

"Yeah!" she says. "It took me a while. But I'm over it."

I sip my coffee for a while. She waddles over the to kitchen and returned with a baking dish full of brownie. She picks out a square and started eating it, spilling crumbs down her shirt and between her breasts.

"I eat when I'm upset" she says.

"So do I" I say, stupidly. She gives a mirthful laugh at this.

"Can I ask you a question?" I ask.

"Sure" she says.

"Did you love me?" I reply.

"Love you?" she replies. "Love you?" as if it is a joke. "Look at me, Bry. I am disgusting. I absolutely ruined myself because of you."

"Wait, are you actually laying that on me?" I reply.

"Bry" she says. "Look at me. Look at me. No seriously, look at me." I look down at her enormous curves, she is exploding with soft fat. "You told me you like fat chicks. You told me you find this attractive."

"I do" I said.

"Then what don't you get?" she huffs, exasperated.

"What do you mean?"

"Yes, Bry. I loved you. I fucking loved you! Don't you get that?!" Kat burst into tears. She grabs for a box of Kleenex on the table but it is empty. At this, she cries harder.

I reach out and stroke her arm to comfort her. She doesn't react. "Do you want me to get you some Kleenex?" I ask.

"No, Bry. You know what you can do for me?"

"What's that?"

She picks up and offers me the dish of brownies and I take it, confused. There are still several left. Then she grabs my thigh and leans in close to me and says "I want you to shove those brownies in my fucking face."

I nearly pull away but I hesitate for just a moment. It's enough. She works her hand over and grabs my cock, already hard, and starts massaging it through my pants. I take a brownie and stuff it into her open mouth and she chews away, sobbing. I reach over and grab a roll and start feeling around her body. Everywhere I go there are soft crevices to explore.

I feed her the rest of the brownies as I rub her tummy and tell her what a disgusting fat pig she has become. She is crying at the same time and tells me how much she hates me. When she is done, I make her get down on her hands and knees and lick the dish clean. I get behind her and pull down her pants and start to finger fuck her. She moans loudly.

She turns over onto her back and pulls me down on the floor with her. We kiss passionately and she takes my hand and places it somewhere in the softness of her underbelly and jiggles it. "Jiggle me, Bry" she says. "Jiggle my fat fucking belly."

"You fucking whale" I say. "You're fucking huge."

"Am I bigger than your wife?" she asks.

"You're way fucking fatter than her. You're like, three times her size."

"Am I the biggest woman you've ever been with?" she asks.

"You will be" I say. "By far."

"You did this to me" she says. "You made me ruin myself. Do you like it?"

"Yeah" I said. "I want you to be my disgusting fuckpig."

"Good" she says, "You break it, you bought it", and reaches down for my cock.

We fumble around for a bit and try with different positions to get me in. In the end, she has to lift up her belly and I have to mount her at an angle and she pulls me in.

Her fat pussy is tight and I struggle not to come instantly. I grab at her belly, her breasts, her pillows of upper arm fat, the softness of her chin, whatever I can. She jiggles like a waterbed.

I manage to restrain myself, and she comes first. "Oh, Bry!" she says. "Oh, Bry! Fuck me! FUCK ME!" She squirts all over my dick. "Holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck HOLY FUCK!" she screams.

"Holy fuck" I say.

"Did I squirt?" she asks.

"Yes" I say.

"Holy fuck" she says. "Did you come?"

"No" I reply.

"Okay" she says. "Here." She pushes me and I pull out and roll off of her and onto the floor. She struggles and rolls over onto her hands and knees, then turns herself around and straddles me and backs her enormous ass up until my face is engulfed. I struggle to ask "What...?" but I am muffled between the fat of her thighs. I lick and taste the sweetness of her cum.

She lowers herself down and I can feel her two huge globes of breast fat spread out over my lap on either side of my dick. Her belly engulfs my torso, spreading out over my sides. She takes me up in her mouth and goes to work.

I come quickly, within only a minute or two, and she moans and sucks greedily and swallows. "Mmmmm" she says, "your cum tastes good." She collapses forward onto me, freeing my face from between the fat of her legs. She is breathing heavily. I can breath again, but it is laborious beneath her weight. We lay there for a while.

"Kat?" I ask.

"Yeah?"

"How much do you weigh?"

"Bry" she says back. "I don't want to talk dirty anymore now."

"OK" I reply.

"Bry?" she asks. "Can we cuddle?"

I help her to her feet and she leads me over to her bedroom and she flops down on her back on the sheets and I plop down on top of her. We lay there like that, holding each other without saying anything. There is music playing quietly from a CD player on her dresser. We stay there and listen for a while until the songs start repeating. I am calm and breathing slowly but somehow too excited to fall asleep.

"Bry?" she asks, after a long time. "Do you still love me?"

I don't respond for a while. I think about Alyssa and the connection we share. I think about my kids with no small amount of guilt. I reflect back on my relationship with Kat in high school and the difference I have been searching for in every relationship since. I am sober enough now to know the answer confidently. "Yes."

"I still love you too" she says.

We kiss and make out and she climbs on top of me and inserts me and wraps her arms around me and we make love like that, her on top smothering me with her softness, pulling me deeper inside her amidst her thigh and pubic fat with each thrust of her hips. I explore and caress and jiggle and worship all of her soft parts, which is to say every part of her body.

"Oh, Kat" I say. "You're a goddess. A fucking sex goddess."

"I'm your sex goddess" she says. "These curves are for you."

"You're beautiful" I say. "Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful."

She just moans in response. She gets off me and I sidle up next to her and spoon her and she parts her legs and pulls me in, with some considerable difficulty due to her enormous ass between us pushing me away from her. We barely achieve penetration, but it is worth it. We climax together. "Oh fuck oh fuck OH FUCK!" she screams, and I feel her hot cum well up in my crotch.

It takes us both a while to catch our breath. There is another long moment of holding each other. But this time, it feels different.

Kat turns around and faces me and her face is full of sadness and dread. "Bry" she says. "I don't want you to leave me again."

"I don't want to leave" I say. "But I have to."

"Bry, don't go. Please." she says. "I'll do anything."

"I have to" I reply.

"No you don't" she says. "Leave your other life behind. You can stay right here with me and love me and feed me until I'm the size of the fridge."

"Kat" I reply, "you don't know what you're saying."

"The size of the fridge, Bry" she says. "We can have sex like this every day, only it will just keep getting better."

"Kat, stop."

"100 more pounds. 200 more. 300 more. Whatever you want."

"Kat, please stop."

"Don't you get it, Bry? It's because of you! There is nothing I want more than to keep wrecking myself, just for your pleasure. It's all I have."

"Kat, you'll eat yourself into the grave."

"Oh fuck yeah" she says, and she reaches down around her belly and starts touching herself. "Oh fuck yeah, say it again."

"You'll eat yourself into the grave." I repeat. "Is this what you want?"

She is fingering herself intensely and grabs me tightly by the bicep. "Fuck yeah" she says, "I want to eat until I fucking explode."

"You won't explode," I say, "you'll have a heart attack."

"Fuck. Yes" she says, jiggling and quaking with exertion. She is struggling to keep fingering herself so violently and so I reach down and help her.

"Is this what you want?" I ask as I work with my fingers to get her off. "To be a fat fucking blob? To die young?"

"Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. YES!" she screams. She contorts and adducts her thighs together and my hand is trapped in soft fat for a moment as she comes. She jerks and quakes as she comes down from the orgasm. "Oh, Bry..."

I am up and putting my clothes on. "I'm leaving" I say.

"Bry, wait" she moans, but I leave her there, a soft quaking orgasmic mound of fat on the bed.