#all because she couldn’t afford it so I said I’d cover it and she never paid me back. I’ve bought her at least a grand��s worth of weed

[bondagebimbo]

LOVE when the pharmacy decides to fucking dick around with my meds so badly that now I’m off my mood stabilizer, my pain meds, and my fucking birth control (in a few days) because they’re insisting I should have extra fucking bottles of each one and I DONT because they don’t let me pick up more than a one month supply of narcotics at a fucking time so do explain where these extra bottles are, hmm ????? and they didn’t have enough caplyta ordered last time to even give me my usual 3 months supply of that so … ???? get your fucking heads out of your asses and give me the fucking meds you owe me ??? like ??? but I’m in a nasty headspace right now so if I call the pharmacy this morning, I’m going to be that cunt ass customer they bitch about all day because this isn’t the first time they’ve done this. in fact, the first time, they straight up committed insurance fraud by marking one of my scripts as filled and picked up WHEN, IN REALITY, THEY FUCKING LOST THE SCRIPT AND HAD NO RECORD OF IT BEING FILLED OR PICKED UP IN THEIR SYSTEM, BUT YET, MARKED IT AS SUCH AND CHARGED MY INSURANCE AN ALMOST 8 GRAND FOR THE FUCKING 3 MONTHS OF MY MOOD STABILIZER THAT I. NEVER. RECEIVED. I’m genuinely about to report this entire pharmacy to the pharmacy board because I’m so fucking done with this place. it needs to be shut the fuck down because you’re telling me, out of an entire pharmacy, y’all share the same IQ point AND dead brain cell, collectively ??? then don’t fucking work in healthcare where people rely on you to know your shit and keep track of their fucking meds because you’re just constantly making shit worse on people since you can’t seem to not fuck around with these meds and not ‘lose’ scripts. fuck out of here.

and I’m pretty much out of weed, which is usually my back up pain management method, without the money to afford a delivery order by their cut off time to order in 3 hours because I just paid my fucking bills and have SOME to go towards it, but not enough for delivery to be free, and I’d still have to walk my ass to one of the ATM’s nearby because they don’t accept my bank as a prepaid method OR any of the cards I have on my person. 🫠

I can literally feel my back spasming and seizing on and off while I’m laying on my fucking side, I’ve had a migraine with a stupid ass aura for almost a week now because chronic migraines fucking suck and i was REALLY hoping this one would be over by now, my muscle inflammations that my pain meds are supposed to limit are already beginning to start their itching deep in my muscles so soon they’ll blossom into a whole fibromyalgia fucking episode and become entirely inflamed, my joints in my hands fucking hurt because of the dreary weather so I really need to get into a rheumatologist at some point soon as well and get that shit figured out, I’m nauseas as fuck from all the pain, and I’m moody, hormonal, and just feel like fucking death physically.

I’m just. I give up.

this shit is exhausting and painful and so mentally fucking taxing to constantly deal with and I just want a fucking break from all this fucking shit. I wish I could just … not exist … for even just a little while with how fucking painful existing actually feels right now 🫠😭

[shadowbriar]

Five Hargreeves - Back To You

Pairing : Five Hargreeves x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 2.8k Warning : Angst. Season 4 references. Synopsis : After one too many subway trips, Five's plan of temporal refuge extended as he met someone he refuse to lose. Notes : I refuse to acknowledge what happened in Episode 5 and 6 though I use the gif of said episodes. Don't come at me if you don't agree. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

Living in a small cottage by the lake has never been in his cards. To settle down and watch the sun sets everyday, hearing the rocking chair creak as he takes a sip of his coffee. This was beyond anything he could ever hoped for, anything he could afford. He knew that this wasn’t the life he’s supposed to lead. Lord, this wasn’t even a life he owns to begin with. But with each second passed in this universe, Five finds it hard to drag himself back to that subway and return to his own timeline.

“Enjoying the scenery, are we?” She whispers as she sits on his lap, clinging her arms around his neck “You know, I could really use the help stuffing that chicken. It is afterall your special request.”

The boy raised an eyebrow, “Shouldn’t I be off of any chores since it is my special request?”

“Just because it’s your birthday, doesn’t mean you’re having a vacation, big guy,” She reasoned “We’ve only got two hands and this house is only getting bigger than smaller.”

The boy couldn’t bite his grin when he leaned in to kiss her. His heart swells. She was right. The house feels like it’s growing along with them. They might not have much, certainly far from the wealth his father possesses, but it was much more than enough. Having her was much more than enough.

“You know that I love you, right?” Five asks as he pulls away, his left hand still cupping her cheek as his thumb caresses her gently.

“I know,” She nods, smiling “But you can’t sweet talk your way out of kitchen duty, Mister.”

Five chuckles, standing from his seat as he carried her in his arms, “Alright, Missy, let’s see what this chicken fuss is all about.”

—-

The muscles on his cheeks were aching but he couldn’t fight the need to grin as wide as he could. He was happy, watching her carry that awful looking cake out of the oven. The icing that supposedly spelled ‘happy birthday’ was crooked, its colour pale compared to the bright fondant covering it. Thank God the candles were their only source of light, otherwise she wouldn’t even bring it out, he reckons.

“It’s ugly, I know,” She says as she lets it rest on the table “But it tastes better than it looks, I promise.”

Five shakes his head, disagreeing with her discouraging comments as he steals a kiss, “It’s perfect.”

“Well, go on and make a wish!”

The boy closes his eyes. His hands holding hers as he whispers his wish: I wish for this to last forever. Her squeals of excitement was music to his ears as he blew the candles. It is indeed the best birthday of his life.

“I’d ask but I know you wouldn’t tell me your wish.”

“Who said I made any wish?”

“You did,” She says as she helps him cut the cake “You make that little frown everytime you say your little prayer, do you know that?”

“I don’t pray, Love.”

“You do. Well, not religiously, but sometimes you do. You say your little prayer, your hopes. You whisper them sometimes, but most times you just close your eyes and do that little frown thing.”

Five raised an eyebrow, “Have you been watching me?”

“I might,” She teases “I mean who wouldn’t watch such a handsome man like you?”

The night continues as the couple finishes their dinner. Fulfilled would be such an understatement for what he feels right now. Everything he ever wanted, everything he ever dreamed of, is served right in that room. He wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.

“So can I take a guess about what you wished for?”

“Really, Love?” He asked, putting down his glass of wine.

She shrugs, “We’ve talked about everything else, haven’t we?”

“You know, there’s a belief that if you say your prayers, it won’t happen.”

“Well, you’re not saying what it was, I’m just taking a guess what it’s about.” She argues, still persistent “And what’s so bad with it not happening? Do you really want it that bad?”

“I— Nothing, I just don’t—”

“What is it that you could wish for? What is it that you don’t have?”

“Nothing, I’m not saying that I want anything, I just—”

“Is it your family?”

Five pauses. It was as if he was stupefied. He hadn’t thought about his family in a while. Shameful of him, sure, but after one too many subway trips, he figured that a little rest shouldn’t be so bad. He just had to find a timeline where there weren't that many people shooting at him. Perhaps take a week or two to rest and gather his strength before jumping into another subway.

It just had to be her. The girl he bumped into right after he got out of the station. He remembers vividly the concerned look on her face when she saw him. He was littered with bruises, dirt and dust covering his body. He looked more like trouble than a lover yet she still found it in her heart to ask if he needed any help.

And here he was, feeling the happiness in his heart wither as the thought of his family returned to his consciousness. He knew that the universe is cruel, that he couldn’t have the best of both worlds in this lifetime, that he had to choose between his lover or his family. Some nights he wonders if his family had succeeded in preventing another apocalypse without him. Some nights he wonders if his family had found a way to another timeline. Some nights he wonders if his family were still alive. But most nights he tried his best to ignore these wonders. His family must have found a way to stop the apocalypse, or at least escape another one.

Taking a deep breath, Five reaches for her hands. Guilt and regret were evident on her face. He knew that she didn’t mean to sound as cruel. Perhaps it was the wine that made their blood more sensitive or that the fatigue of the day had clouded their minds. Either way he knew that they both would be sorry when the morning came.

“I love you,” He starts gently “I love you more than anything in this and every timeline.”

A tear left her eye. It was painful. To love someone you know doesn’t belong to you. To desperately grasp into the moments you knew would end anytime soon. To selfishly stay in a relationship that was doom from the start. Neither of them deserved this, yet neither of them wanted to let go.

“It’s been six years, Five,” She reasoned “As much as I love you.. We can’t keep living like this.”

“Time works differently there, my love. Six years here might only mean a couple hours there.”

“That doesn’t make it any less wrong for you to stay. Those couple hours might be the most crucial hours for your family. They might be fighting for their lives right now, they might be dying, for all we know! You need to come back to them, Five. You have to.”

Five forces a laugh, “Wait, what are you saying?”

She remained silent. Her tears were falling, biting her lips to conceal her tremble. A bitter feeling is brewing in his stomach now.

“Your family needs you and—”

“Okay, stop,” He stood from his seat with an offended look “Are you breaking up with me? On my birthday?”

She looks away, unable to meet his eyes.

“Goodness, you can’t be serious.”

“What choice do we have, Five? One way or another, you’d have to go back to your family. They need you—”

“And you? You don’t need me anymore?”

Her jaw clenches, “That’s beside the point.”

“No, that is the whole point, actually,” He argues, this time coming close to her “I love you, alright? Why is it so wrong for me to want to be with the person that I love? I’ve lived more than a lifetime alone, why can’t I have someone for once?”

“You don’t belong in this timeline. I—”

“I belong with you,” He cuts in “It’s not the timeline that matters, it’s where you are. I belong with you.”

If there’s anything she loves most about Five other than his gentle and caring nature towards her, it would be how adamant he is once he’s set his mind into something. There’s no doubt in her heart about the genuinity of his words. But as much as she’s grateful and touched over it, she knew that they could only spend so long before the guilt eats them whole.

She lets go of his hands softly, placing them on his cheeks instead. She admires him. The beautiful man that’s now standing in front of her with his heart on his sleeves, announcing his devotion to her on the day when he’s supposed to be the one showered with attention and love. His eyes were glossy, clearly conflicted.

“I love you, Five,” She whispers, gently caressing his skin as if it was their last goodbye “But I can’t keep you here, I can’t. I can’t keep you from your family.”

Five looks defeated, silent.

“Don’t you want to know what happened to them? If they’re okay? If they’ve figured out how to stop the apocalypse? Don’t you want to know?”

“I— I don’t know.” He answers “What I know is that I want to be with you.”

“I’ll always be with you, Love,” She reassures, kissing his cheek “I might not understand how this whole different timelines work, but I know that whichever timeline it is, whatever universe we live in, I will always belong to you. I will always be with you.”

And he finally cries. His tears flowing and wetting her palms. His heart shatters, finally succumbing to the guilt he’s tried so hard to bury and forget. He misses his family, he wanted so badly to get back and pick up where he left off, but would it be worth it? Would leaving everything here be worth it? Would leaving her be worth it?

“We’ll find our way,” She reassures, pulling the broken man into her embrace “You’ll find me in your timeline. Maybe we’ll meet at the grocery store, or at a bar, or perhaps at another train station.”

Five chuckles a little, letting a shaky breath as he asks, “And if we don’t?”

“We will,” She says firmly, giving a little space between them so they could gaze into each other’s face “I’m too much of a troublemaker and you’re too much of a problem solver for us to not meet. It’ll be too hard to ignore each other with our nature, Love. We’re bound to meet each other, in any timeline, in any universe. Trust me.”

The boy forces a smile. He leans in, kissing his lover gently as if she’d burst into petals if he pushed too much. Her hold around his neck feels different. Like she wasn’t looking for support but giving one instead. He could feel her trembling a little as his hands pulled her closer by the waist. Her heart is breaking too, as much as his is, but they knew that it’s inevitable. It’s only a matter of time before time pulls them apart and it certainly would be much more painful then.

“I’ll find you,” He whispers “I promise.”

—-

Canada is certainly much colder than home. Five rubs his hands and blows some air to his palms in hope to gain some warmth, but it’s obvious that the only comfort he’ll find in this weather is to get in Viktor’s bar and ask for some drink. That is, if Diego could start the car and get them going.

“It says here that Viktor’s bar is only five minutes by foot,” Klaus says “Who wants to run to the bar with me?”

“No one is getting out of this car!” Diego says in frustration, irritatedly trying his best to start the engine “We’re going to get to his bar together, in this car. That’s the whole point of a family road trip. We go to the bar by car, not by foot!”

“Yes, but it’s freezing here, Diego! The heater is not even on!” Alison argues.

“Well, it won’t be unless the engine is on.”

“No shit, Luther,” Ben says “I vote to run.”

Lila raises her hand, “Second to run.”

“No! No one is getting out of this car!” Diego yells once more, hitting the steering wheel frustratedly “I just need to—”

And by God’s miracle, the engine turns back on. Though their trip would soon reach its main destination, the bicker done by the family persists. The coldness of Canadian weather and how the heater broke almost twenty kilometres ago has made the seven heads’ temper raise. They really need to get to Viktor’s bar before they start to kill each other.

“I’m out of here,” Five announce as the car gets into the parking space of the bar. He space jumped inside, finding himself on one of the empty stools “Good to see you, Viktor.”

“Five,” VIktor greets, a little startled but his smile grows “You’re here. Where are the others?”

“Still figuring their way out to get here. Can I get whiskey on rocks?”

“On it.”

Five taps on the wooden table as he waits for his drink. His heart was content, as much as it might mean now. Their plan to stop the apocalypse worked. Viktor managed to take the marigold off of Ben before the Cleanse happened and now they’re trying to get back or rebuild their life. For once they finally managed to stop the apocalypse from happening.

Right after they succeeded in preventing the cleanse, Five found himself running to the subway station. He could still feel his feet burning from how fast he tried to get back to the station, wanting to jump in the train and go back to her timeline, but once he got there, the station vanished. There was no trace of it, no matter how many times he tried to run around and look for it. The subway is gone. She is gone.

Perhaps it was the price he has to pay for saving the universe. One’s happiness in exchange for the lives of millions doesn’t seem to be a hard sacrifice to make, but it’s still a tough pill for him to swallow. He knew that she would be proud. That she would hug and kiss him for doing all the hard work in saving the world. But the more he thinks about it, the more it stings for such touch would only be as good as a dream now.

“You ordered whiskey on rocks?” A voice asked, breaking his train of thoughts.

Five’s mouth went agape. He couldn’t tell if he was daydreaming or if this was some sick new power he gained from the marigold, but she was there. Standing right in front of him with a glass of whiskey in her hand.

“Viktor said his brother ordered whiskey on rocks, I assume that’s you?”

“I— Uh, yes,” He stammers, getting off the stool “You’re here.”

Five couldn’t believe his eyes. In his heart he knew that they would meet again, that somehow the universe would let him keep both her and his family, but he never expected that it was true. He never expected that he would meet her again. Not this fast, not this way.

“Sorry?” She asks, raising an eyebrow “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yes. Yes, I’m fine,” Five said, shaking his head and taking the glass “Thank you.”

The girl smiles. It was a different smile than what he’s used to seeing. There wasn’t much love in her eyes, but he wasn’t in the position to complain. The girl he’s staring at and his lover might be the same person but she’s yet to know him here. She’s yet to know that he’s hers. She’s yet to know that he loves her. She’s yet to know that he belongs to her.

“Sorry, but have we met before?” She asks, still staring back at him “You look very familiar.”

“Uh, no, I don’t think so,” He lied, offering his hand “I’m Five. Five Hargreeves. Viktor’s brother.”

She took his hand, telling him her name, “I didn’t know Viktor had a baby brother.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not really his baby brother. It’s— It’s complicated.” Five could feel his cheeks burning like a little boy, bashful “It’s a long story.”

“You mind telling me about it?” She asks, leaning on the table “I’ve got time. I love hearing stories.”

“I know you do,” He says with a big smile “Well, where do I start..”

[theholypeanut]

♪ To All The Girls You Loved Before ♪

Cw: gn!reader, Otoya slander, Otoya being a lovesick simp, Blood, mentioning of hooking up (not with reader), aged up characters (university), fluff?? kinda?? Mostly comedy I’d say, using words like whore or slut, but I promise it’s not serious I love Otoya, mentioning of STDs (guys why this cw gets weirder and weirder), Otoya is suggested to be bi here

1,3k words (I’m shocked too)

Birthday Fic for Otoya Eita!!

Otoya Eita was a whore. 

Everyone knew it - at least everyone at the university, in the football club, gym, probably within a 50 kilometers radius from the dorms as well, including supermarkets, flower shops, game arcades, and even the cinema workers (oh they probably knew the best, seeing him every week taking another girl on the same romantic comedy).

Well, it was not a secret, and it was neither something that made you hate or despise him. You had no opinion about him until you met him. 

And you met for the first time in the book shop, when you were looking into a new book by Yoko Ogawa.

Someone next to you dropped their book.

„Ouch, sorry” you heard a deep male voice. „I just accidentally dropped my modern feministic literature. My bad.” He picked up Bad Feminist by Roxane Gay from the floor. This scene was so ridiculous and obnoxious, you couldn’t hold the laughter. 

„Did you literally pick the closest book with the word feminist in it?” You asked amused. He cleared his throat. „No, I’m a big fan of…” he took a quick peak at the cover. „…Roxane Gay”

You smirked and raised your eyebrow. „Ooh really? How did you like Five Guys; My Story of the Polygamist Hexagon?” Eita didn’t even blink. „Actually this one is my favorite” he said with absolutely no shame in his voice. You rolled your eyes with a smile. „It’s not a real book, dumbass. I made it up.” 

Otoya was so used to interactions like this, that he didn’t feel offended at all. „Well sounds like a great read, maybe you should write something like this” he said, putting the book back on the shelf. „However if we start dating I don’t know if I want to have a… polygamist hexagon. Well, at least not with five guys”. He sent you a wink.

You looked at him with a mix of disbelief and amusement. „You are really something else, Otoya” you said, with a smile. „But I’m not gonna lie, that was probably the funniest and the dumbest conversation I had recently. Thanks” And you left him in between the shelves. 

In the beginning, Otoya was planning to just woo you into going on a date with him because you seemed cute. But that was the moment when he fell hard - this bright smile, laughter… He knew his pickup line was awful but you were not really mean to him. You didn’t look at him with disgust. Even more: He never saw the most gorgeous human being with such a beautiful laugh and right now he was dedicated to getting to know you. 

He started to come to the bookshop every single day - he was not obsessed enough to skip trainings (because he was not ready for Yukimiya to kick his ass) but even the elderly lady at the counter started to cheer up for him. 

„You know, young gentleman” she said one evening, seeing him looking in between the shelves. „They are a student at the university close by, I assume they are in their second year since they were buying some textbooks recently” she gave him a hint. The next day Otoya gave her a bouquet of the prettiest flowers he could afford. He was dedicated to finding you. If you knew who he was, then you probably study together. Or did he date your friend? Multiple friends? He hoped not your sibling or mom because that for sure would make things complicated when he will finally propose. 

Yes, this Otoya Eita, a town slut, was already preparing his wedding vows after one interaction. 

„I have no idea what’s their name” he whined to Karasu during the break. „They were the most beautiful person I ever saw…” 

„You say that about every second hook up, Eita” Karasu answered a little annoyed. It's been a week since he started making his failed love life everyone’s problem. Not like he wasn’t whining before, but usually it was after he cheated on a girl and she got angry, not before he even asked anyone out. „Also Jesus, why are you so fixated on the Feminist Book Stranger? You usually take rejection so lightly, I’m surprised to see you so…” 

„Pathetic?” Chigiri suggested, as he was drinking water nearby.

„Pitiful?” Yukimiya added. 

„…Lovesick” Karasu ended. Otoya signed dramatically. „You will be so jealous on my wedding, you will see”

„Well, I don’t think so” Chigiri said after taking another sip of water. „If they know your name, I assume they probably also know your dating history”

He knew. Otoya was well aware of his reputation, but till now he never really cared. Because he never expected to actually fall in love with someone, and even more he never was anxious that his soulmate might find him disgusting and pathetic. 

„At least check yourself for STDs before trying to get into your future spouse’s pants” Reo added after listening to the whole conversation. „I don’t think chlamydia is the best way gift you can give them on the first date.”

Otoya took a mental note that even if he felt a little offended, this was not the worst advice. 

And fate brought you together again, no later than the next day. 

You had an important essay due today and spent every possible moment studying and writing it. You kind of regret you had no time to read for fun anymore, only to drown under the amount of literature you had to read for your university lectures and tests, but there was no other way. There was one particular book you needed to borrow to finally end this monstrosity you’ve been creating, and then you are free… at least until the next essay. You took the turn to the university library. 

„You know, I think I achieved a new low” you heard a feminine voice. „I was looking for a fast hook up and even Otoya ghosted me. This one hurts. I think it's time for therapy or some shit, because if even him…” 

You smirked. Who knows if there are therapists in this city, who get another crying college girl or guy in their chair and can thank Otoya Eita for bringing in more than 20% of their revenue? 

You didn’t want to get caught eavesdropping, so you fast went to the door out of the building, the library was just minutes away. You pushed the door outside with a lot of force… and heard a bang. 

„FUUUUCK” you heard someone swearing right in front of you. It was almost as loud as the laughter that was accompanying it. „Right into your nose dude!” You heard the amused voice. You panicked. „Oh my god, I’m so so sorry” You slide through the door to the poor victim who was not other than… Otoya Eita. He froze for a second, considering if he just died and gone to heaven, that he heard your voice again. He looked up at your face, but his vision was still blurry. 

You took out the tissue from your bag. His nose was bleeding, so you gently pressed the tissue to his face. „Shit, do you have a concussion?” You asked panicked. Karasu stood next to you. „Just ask him something” he suggested, still amused by the situation. You thought for a second. „What's the capital of Malta?” The dark-haired guy looked at you both surprised and amused. „Okay but maybe ask him something he knows”

„I'm fine guys” they heard the weak voice. He looked at Karasu angrily. „Don't you dare flirt with the love of my life!” 

You looked at him confused, then looked at Karasu. „Yeah I think he has a concussion, maybe we should take him to the hospital.” 

Otoya’s nose stopped bleeding and his head was no longer spinning. Somehow you looked even more beautiful than the first time he saw you.

„How about you take me out for dinner, as an apology?” He sent Karasu „the” look. Tabito rolled his eyes in answer. „I’ll leave you two lovebirds here to flirt” he said and started walking away. You were too stunned to speak. You turned back to white haired guy still too confused with what is happening to digest his offer.

„Wait, are you serious right now?”

He smirked.

„So, how about tonight?”

There is gonna be part 2, this is a promise and a threat at the same time, because I had so much fun writing this crack fic

[mariaofdoranelle]

The Courtship Deception - Part 3: Curtain

Fic Masterlist

Written for @throneofglassmicrofics

Warnings: moderate alcohol intake

Words: 923

“You can’t hide behind the curtains all night, Princess,” Fenrys said, both of them in the kitchen staff area while Aelin peeked at the party from behind the wooden doors that separated them.

Aelin sighed and smoothed her hands down her black silky dress. Her father thought that arranging this huge party was a good way to “rekindle” something with her suitors—she tried to argue that she dated Chaol for a month when she was eighteen, and never even got to call Dorian her boyfriend, but Rhoe was as dense as a rock, completely blinded by the prize that came after the wedding.

Not that Aelin would marry either of them, but her father didn’t know that yet.

She didn’t know most of the people attending this party, though she knew some names or at least remembered seeing them at some point. They were Rhoe’s guests, even if the party was initially planned for Aelin. She scanned the crowd, trying to find a familiar face, until she found a remarkably singular silver head.

Aelin stiffened, her heartbeat faster as she recognized this particular guest. There was no way he could be here.

“Fenrys.” She lightly tapped his arm. “Go get me a drink.”

The second his back was to her, Aelin turned around, that silver hair guiding her. She hated to deceive her friend like this, but as much as he liked to help her schemes, Fenrys was still her father’s employee, and they were currently being watched.

“Aelin.” A gentle hand on her elbow stopped her, and she turned around to meet Dorian’s concerned gaze. “We need to talk.”

She softened at the sight of him. It’d been a while since they last spoke, and a conversation was needed indeed. Dorian was her friend first and foremost, no matter what arrangements their fathers put them through.

“Of course, I…” A peek at her goal just to check that she didn’t lose him in the crowd. “I’m just gonna get a drink first.”

“Let me get it for you,” Dorian said, disappearing before she could stop him.

Well, at least it worked for her. Aelin politely made her way through her father’s business partners, just brief greetings so she wouldn’t lose that loner figure sitting—

“Thank Mala I found you!” Chaol stopped her, one hand on her shoulder. “Look, we—“

“I need a drink!” Aelin interrupted, voice loud and blunt. She hated to ditch three of her friends like this, but a girl gotta do what a girl gotta do.

“Absolutely.” Chaol nodded, and off he went.

Her footsteps were hurried, knowing she had three men in her tow, but the closer she got, the more certain she was that it was really him. They’ve exchanged flirty texts here and there over the phone, but she hadn’t expected to see him tonight.

“Did Fenrys invite you?” Aelin asked as she sat beside him with no invitation.

Rowan cocked his head, eyes glinting. “I can let myself in.”

“I bet you do.” She took the drink from his hand and took a sip, sending him a witchy look from under her lashes while trying to ignore the bourbon burning down her throat at the same time.

Rowan raised an eyebrow at her. “You did dodge my questions about when I could see you, so I thought I’d get my answer in person.”

She smiled, so very busted. Sneaking out to see a boy required some maneuvering Aelin couldn’t afford with her dad’s new plan and him watching her so closely because of it, but she wouldn’t disclose all that to him.

“Just so you know, I was avoiding that question because I still need to find a time I’ll get that friend of yours off my back.”

“But why?” Rowan asked, smirking. “Taking Fenrys out on a date sounds just lovely.”

Aelin had one palm supporting her chin on the table and another holding Rowan’s bourbon, not knowing where to look—to his gorgeous face or the tattoo on his wrist that his sleeve didn’t manage to cover up—when someone cleared his throat next to them.

It was Fenrys, intrigued onyx eyes focused on her, with Chaol and Dorian next to him. “Your drink, Aelin—all three of them.”

“You took so long that Rowan already got me one,” she said with a straight face, twirling his bourbon in her hand.

Chaol huffed and left, Fenrys placed her Manhattan on the table and positioned himself to watch her from a certain distance, and Dorian watched the scene unfold as if its sight held all answers he sought.

He sipped the drink that was meant for her, then raised it in a greeting. “Prince Rowan.”

Prince?

She widened her eyes at Rowan, just to watch him give Dorian a curt nod and say, “Havilliard.”

Weird. No common person just nodded at a crown prince. Aelin tilted her head, trying to make sense of it.

Rowan’s panicked look under her scrutinizing one sparked the realization, her blood racing.

She should’ve known from the unique silver hair and pine-green eyes combo; even from how Fenrys would refuse to talk about him the same way he did with his job with the Doranelle’s royal family. Aelin felt so dumb for taking days to realize it, but the Whitethorns were so many, it was impossible to keep track of all of them—from the youngest generation, Sellene and Enda were the ones the tabloids focused on.

“You wouldn’t have to keep crashing parties if you weren’t so secretive about your identity, Whitethorn.”

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[bazaarwords]

in spite of war [2/? | griddlehark | post-canon]

more! so soon! thank you guys for the feedback! :)

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🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴

Cyprus-b was a shithole.

It was a shithole planet on the outskirts of a shithole system with the shittiest people I’ve ever met. And that is saying something.

Someone, covered in mud, slapped me across the face within the first twenty minutes. My vision had gone starry, and Paul had grabbed me by the arm, lest I “Begin another interplanetary incident.” Which was a thing that had happened one fucking time and afterwards everyone had to watch Gideon like a hawk because Gideon couldn’t control her temper.

Shut up. I hated it there.

We’d surveyed the planet, and you and Ianthe had begrudgingly done your lyctor business, which I guess I could have helped with but I was feeling moody and my cheek was swelling up and I didn’t want to.

I’d loitered around with Coronabeth, who’d somehow gotten in the good graces of the mud-asshole who’d slapped me, just as quickly as I’d pissed him off, and was now in possession of a rather large chunk of crystal.

“What are you going to do with that?” I asked, running a hand through my hair.

She smiled at me, which was not a luxury I was afforded often. I didn’t have a heart, but if I had? It would have turned into a jackhammer.

She held it out in front of her like a puppy or a baby. “I think it’ll make a nice statement piece in my room. Or I could smash someone’s skull in? One never does have enough bludgeoning instruments, hm?”

Remember what I said about the horniness? Yeah.

“You could smash my skull in, you know? Really freak out mud-boy and the shitheads over there.”

Corona laughed. It was so nice to hear—a laugh. We’d killed Dad-God and we were doing what someone could arguably call “good work” and the worst was seemingly over and no one was laughing. Except for Ianthe every once in a while, which sounded like a smoker with a deflating balloon caught in their windpipe. She sounded like shit.

Corona let me hold the crystal. When she passed it to me, she touched my fingers for a little too long. I might have blushed, she might have winked. All I know for sure is that the weight of the thing suddenly felt like nothing. Something heavier made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

And I knew, obviously. I knew you were looking at me.

I knew you hated when I didn’t help. You were staring at me and judging me and fine. Fine. I should have helped. I should have shoved my hands in the dirt like you and Ianthe and I should have done anything but what I was doing.

But I didn’t want to. I felt petulant and bitchy. I felt like I wanted to throw the fucking crystal at your head. Then regret it. Then probably get a crystal to the head myself.

I handed the thing back to Corona, feeling something that tasted like blood rising up in my chest. I wanted to say something catty, to share a dumb little secret with her, and to make you watch like I knew you were.

Then, how-fucking-ever. Judith Deuteros hobbled out of the ship, looking as proud as she could whilst being absolutely fucked up. And then, well, I kind of ceased to exist.

I felt when you stopped looking at me, too. It made me feel like nothing. Like less than nothing.

I ran my bitten nails over my scalp as hard as I could, wishing that they were sharper. Wishing I could draw blood.

next

[razorblade180]

Home improvement

[Sumeru Tavern]

Dori:Aether! Have you seen Kaveh? It’s time for me to collect.

Aether:Uuuuhh-

Dori:Stop! You’ve said enough. That alone told me he’s here and told you to say “You didn’t see me.” Let me guess, men’s room?

Aether:….Am I allowed to speak know?

Dori: *sighs* To think a day early on payment has him shaking. I’d collect tomorrow but I have to go on a trip. Kaveh is an intelligent person. I know he’s saved the appropriate amount after his recent commission. What could be the hold up?

Aether:I think anyone would be slightly scared of the person who made them sell their home.

Dori:Kaveh is homeless?

Aether:What?

Dori:What?

………

Aether:Didn’t you…overprice Kaveh or something?

Dori:Overpri- KAVEH! YOU HAVE THREE-

The man already walks out before she could finish that probably real threat.

Kaveh:Stop shouting. You’ll cause a scene! Anyways I still have to cash in-

Dori:Do you have people believing I put you out of a home?

Kaveh:What? I never said that. The project crippled my finances and I owe you money but I never really said…hmm *rubs chin* Okay, I can see how that impression was made.

Dori:Kaveh! That’s slander!

Aether:Wait, Dori didn’t bankrupt you? I heard you had buy a bunch of stuff with your own expenses.

Dori:*slowly turns*…

Kaveh:Who told you that? The situation is more complicated than that. *rubs head* I guess that might be my problem. I tend to avoid topics about my living situation so someone got the wrong impression.

Aether:(Or you were drunk…)

Dori:I commissioned and paid for his work, like I was supposed to. How would I scam a person when I’m the consumer and could afford it!?

Aether:To be fair, you’d find a way.

Dori:Yeah, with haggling! That’s fair game and once again, I’m the consumer. Nobody knows a good deal like I know a good deal. I also know I wasn’t a fan of the location Kaveh wanted for my original house!

Kaveh:The cliff side was a gorgeous backdrop and you would’ve loved it!

Dori:It literally could’ve been anywhere and you insisted on the place that not only you liked, but The Withering loved!

Aether: Original house? It was ruined by The Withering!?

Kaveh:Roughly 70% in fact…

Dori:My hard earned mora, completely wasted! All the resources I bought were no longer good and my palace became a dream I was content with abandoning. I neither cared about it being built nor did I ask you to compensate me for it.

Aether:Wouldn’t have counted as a natural disaster?

Dori:An avoidable one if he had listened, but I let the artist have his way after obsessive insisting. Regardless, I was ready to wipe my hands of the situation, but it was Kaveh who couldn’t let it go!

Kaveh: Your alace is my Magnum Opus; the pinochle of my efforts in physical form. There’s no way any self respecting artist would let that go unfinished!

Aether:*eyes widened* So you paid out of pocket to redo it!?

Dori:Oh no, dear Kaveh did more than that. Like any crazy scholar graduate, he paid for the things he wanted, then pleaded for me to cover the rest of the finances he couldn’t afford in this project I had lost time, money, and interest in.

Aether:….Kaveh.

Kaveh:What!?

Dori:However, I’ll hand him a bit of credit. Despite the fact he was clearly doing this to satisfy his own ideals, I can respect a individual not willing to buckle for them. So yes, I paid the remaining costs of his pride, but not for free.

Aether:So that’s the debt. I can’t even say you got away with a free house, because you didn’t.

Dori:I’m a good talker, but nobody is that good. Anyways, it’s not like I didn’t give him anything worthless. Being your benefactor has introduced you to a several recommendations and work. Knowing you, it probably isn’t stable income because you continue to spend for your dream.

Kaveh:That’s…complicated as well. Putting that aside, I’m not advertising my situation and didn’t go spreading around false accusations.

Dori:Of course. You’re not the type. You would however make a complete mess out of a simple situation. I could refer you to a very savvy financial advisor if you’re-

Kaveh:Not a chance. It’s either you or a book of common sense.

Dori:And just like that, you’re a little sharper. Well I business to attend to. Kaveh, there’s a job regarding a fountain you may want when I get back. Until then, might as well enjoy a meal with Aether. He’s actually eating for free. *walks away*

Aether:(I am?)

Kaveh:*sits down* Sometimes I really can’t deal that woman. I’m drained! So, I can order anything?

Aether:Uh, knock yourself out. Get leftovers if you want. (She didn’t even mention the bill again. Maybe because she’s actually a day early?)

He glances towards the tavern owner as they take a bag of mora from Dori. Guess she has tab here and today it was used.

Aether:(Guess I shouldn’t be surprised, given her discounts for me and her past- oh!) Kaveh, question. So clearly not everyone knows the extent of situation properly, yet you still work with Dori despite the drama.

Kaveh:No matter how you look at it, I could only build my dream because of her. She’s one of the few clients that allows nearly complete artistic freedom. I’ll always grateful for that. I just wished she cared about more than money!

Aether:….So why didn’t you just offer your future services for dirt cheap in exchange for living in the palace as a way of managing your debt, having a home, and keeping an eye on your art.

Kaveh:…..

Aether:It never crossed your mind, did it?

Kaveh:*puts head on table*

Aether:Hey Boss, give this man your finest wine!

[2manyfandoms2count]

Message in a Bottle

Happy Valentine's Day! I'm a little late to the @theerasfestlovesquareversion party, but here's my submission ❤ Special thanks to @miabrown007 for beta-ing!

Happy reading!

Read on AO3

---

Marinette sat at her desk, one foot tucked under her, thoughtfully clicking her pen as she tried to organise a message. 

Her thoughts, which went a thousand miles an hour on a slow day, had come to a freeze about twenty four hours prior, when she’d seen – and heard – Adrien’s lips pronounce three little words she’d only ever dreamed of hearing from him. It was just her luck that they were tuned out by warning beep s, and followed by the Startrain doors clicking shut, as in slow motion, without her being able to do anything to stop them.

A part of her had screamed, urging her to chase after the moving vehicle, but her body had remained standing still on the platform, completely and utterly stunned. 

She still wasn’t entirely sure how she’d gotten back to her parents’ bakery. How she’d gotten to bed, fallen asleep.

All she knew, as she’d awoken in the morning, was that she knew something she didn’t before, and felt a sense of clarity regarding what she needed to do – but that was when her mind had woken up, too. 

And thus the calm before the storm had ended, her mind suddenly swept by a force faster than the wind, dispersing any coherence in her head, scattering words like autumn leaves, before they even got a chance to associate with each other. 

She slammed her head on the table, hoping it would help reset her brain; unfortunately it only brought on a throbbing pain. She winced as she rubbed the budding bump on her forehead.

���Screw it,” she mumbled, finally putting her pen to paper. 

Dear Adrien, 

My feelings since you’ve left have been all over the place, but it’s kind of frightening how happy the three little words you said as the doors of the Startrain closed, made me. They’ve been all I’ve been able to think about (which you know better than anyone might not be the best thing right now – but in a good way! I wouldn’t want you to take them back for the world. Unless you want to. Which would definitely not be a problem, of course. Although maybe just a little. But I’d get over it, I promise).  

Marinette’s hand hovered over the page. She was rambling – which could be fine when she talked, but felt pretty stupid to her in written form. This wasn’t her diary. She couldn’t afford to have a stream of consciousness run on her page; maybe Adrien would read it, and think she was crazy, rip up the letter, throw it in the fire, and she’d never, ever, hear from him again. And then what?

If anything, the reason he’d gone to London in the first place, to get away from the press following Hawkmoth’s (his father’s!) defeat, so he could focus on the latter’s upcoming trial, was enough to justify a clear and concise message. She didn’t want to burden him with her feelings when he surely had infinitely more serious things to think about. 

“Marinette, it can be just a first draft, you know.” Tikki’s soothing words snapped her out of her spiral. 

She looked up at the small divinity, who smiled encouragingly. She nodded, then turned her attention back to her words, biting the end of her pen as she reread them.

Little did she know that Adrien, a small body of water away, was doing exactly the same thing…

—

Dear Marinette,

I’m so sorry I panicked. I didn’t mean to say I like you . Partly, because it’s a little embarrassing that I blurted it out like that – but mostly, because I like you doesn’t even begin to cover how I feel about you. I just saw you, your freckles (the ones I thought I knew like the back of my hand – but that couldn’t be true now, could it? Else I would’ve realised who you were sooner), your smile, and the way you looked at me, and suddenly I got cold feet, and that was the extent of what my tangled brain could produce. 

Adrien spun in Félix’s desk chair, assessing what he’d written thus far. It was a good start, he supposed. His life had been turned upside down by the cataclysmic revelation that Hawkmoth was, in fact, his father, and arguably even more so by the fact that Ladybug was Marinette – he was allowed a certain amount of disorganisation. 

Although he’d obviously been surprised by the former fact, he had to admit that, retrospectively, it did make sense. He even felt stupid for not figuring it out sooner – or, rather, for figuring it out back when Hawkmoth’s powers were still fairly limited, and the damage done (both physical and psychological) was only a fraction of what would happen next, but being too much in denial of the kind of person his father was, and therefore falling for his tricks. 

But his father had grown cockier with his powers, sloppier. His desperation sent him in a slow, downward spiral, hijacking his every thought, eating away at him until one day, he’d stumbled out of what Adrien would later discover was his lair, straight into his atelier, holding his head in his hands – still clad in the purple suit that made most of Paris tremble.

Adrien had stood frozen in the doorway, at first not comprehending what he was seeing. Then, as his father – Paris’ most wanted villain – finally noticed him, the cogs in his brain had whirred again, and he’d made a dash for his room, knowing fully well what he needed to do.

Plagg had to go. Whatever happened next, he couldn’t end up in his father’s hands. 

He’d sent his best friend and his ring away just before the iron curtains had come down on his room’s windows. Just before the tears came streaming down his cheeks, as he cowered in a wardrobe, completely and utterly alone.

Until Marinette’s rescue mission, that is. 

Her being Ladybug, had come as both a complete surprise and an obvious conclusion to a mystery he’d done his best not to uncover since the day he’d first met his Lady. Adrien had obviously dreamed of figuring out who hid under his partner’s spotted mask, daring to ask every so often on the off chance that maybe she’d reconsidered her stance on the matter. But never, in his wildest dreams, had he ever made the conscious link between the two girls who brightened up his life. 

(Not that he remembered, anyway.)

Her plan had been so ingenious that he hadn’t clocked what was going on at first. He’d heard his father go on a rampage around the mansion in his search for him, half begging Adrien to listen to his explanations, half threatening him; and then there was silence as the doorbell cut through his words, and echoed through the house, once. Twice, insistent.

The silence was loud for a second, followed by footsteps running down the hallway. Gabriel opening the door. Voices, cordial at first, although Adrien couldn’t quite make the words out. He wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened, what Marinette had said, but somehow, she’d been invited in.

“Adrien?” His father’s tone was completely normal as he’d knocked on his door. “Adrien, your friend Marinette is here to see you. She saw the security system go off and came to check if everything was alright.” 

“I know how you feel about closed spaces,” Marinette had chimed in. Adrien had slowly crawled out of his hiding spot and made his way towards his room’s door, frowning, trying to remember when he’d told her about his fear. “It’s almost as bad as one of our friend’s fear of running out of cheese,” she’d added as he’d opened the door, turned towards Gabriel.

Adrien had stared at her blankly.

“Another one of our friends is worse about sweets, though,” Marinette had continued seemingly breezily, but Adrien had noticed the insistant glance she’d thrown him. “You should see her in January, she can’t get enough galette.”

Gabriel had chuckled politely, his shoulders tenser than usual, tearing Adrien’s focus off of Marinette’s words. “Well, as you can see, Adrien is very well, no need to worry. Now, if you don’t mind, I have an important matter to discuss with my son.”

Adrien had felt his blood run cold as his father’s fingers dug into his shoulder, which, from Marinette’s perspective, he assumed probably looked like a recreation of the painting looming over the grand staircase.

“Oh, of course, I’ll probably leave you to it, then,” Marinette had looked down, and fidgeted with her ring. 

Adrien had been torn between screaming out for her to make a run for it, to get as far as she could from the mansion and his father, somewhere safe, and begging her to take him with her. But something about her gesture had caught his attention.

Marinette didn’t wear a ring. And this wasn’t an Alliance ring, which he’d seen spread among his peers like wildfire. They didn’t have a common friend who loved galette. Or camembert.

The only person he knew who loved camembert was… 

He’d caught Marinette’s eyes, hoping she could read the question in his eyes. The way she’d nodded back, very slowly, led him to think she had. 

Swiftly, he’d turned around before his father could move, and grabbed the brooch he’d suspected lay beneath his scarf, tossing it to Marinette (Ladybug!), who’d caught it just as she called for her transformation. She’d grabbed his hand before jumping over the balustrade, almost dislocating his shoulder in the process (a small price to pay to get away, really). 

Adrien had heard his father swear after them, his footsteps rushing down, but he didn’t get very far. Ladybug opened the mansion’s door, and what seemed to be the entire Parisian police force rushed in, tackling him to the ground.

Just thinking about it again gave Adrien palpitations. He took a deep breath and got out of the chair, deciding to take a small break from writing. He owed Marinette so much.

—

Anyway, I know it’s only been a couple of days, but I haven’t had any news from you, and I feel like I’m going crazy. Realistically, I know that I like you, combined with our double… friendship, I guess?, must mean that I’m not just any friend to you, but I can’t help but wonder why you’re so silent. I guess I haven’t really been in touch either, even before your departure, but there’s just been so much going on with the trial… I don’t want to bother you, but you should know I’m here if you ever need to talk. Kwami, I wish we could talk right now. Even if I like the idea of sending you a letter, since there’s less chance of things getting lost in nerves.

Because I love you, Adrien. I’ve been trying to tell you for so long, but it never felt like it was the right time nor place to say it. I think I know why, now.

Marinette put her pen down and rubbed her face with her hands. The more she thought about it, the more everything made sense. All this time, she’d felt as if she’d been missing a piece of a puzzle, which threw all her confessions slightly off kilter – as it turned out, her feeling had been justified. 

What a shame the moment everything fell down like pieces into place had to be when Adrien had to leave. 

She shook her head. It was only temporary. She sat back in her chair with a sigh, looking out of her window. It was getting late; Notre Dame’s façade was illuminated, casting a comforting glow in the night. She wondered if Adrien’s view was as pretty as hers, and what he was up to. She didn’t dare bet he was thinking about her, but she hoped he did.

Do what you will with this information, she scribbled under her confession, sighing. I’m here if you need to talk, about anything you want. The weather, the upcoming trial, how you’re doing in London, how annoying I can imagine Félix being, what everyone in the class is up to, physics… You name it! I just really want to hear your voice again, especially your laugh.

You deserve to laugh, Adrien. So, so much. And I hope this letter brings at least a smile to your lips.

—

“Kid, you should be careful where you put your letters, I almost used it as a napkin for my extra mature pont l’évêque ,” Plagg yawned. 

“It wouldn’t matter much if you did,” Adrien sighed.

“Yes, I read it, you’re not sure you’ll send it, blablabla,” Plagg mimicked, holding up the piece of paper. 

“Hey! That was supposed to be private!” Adrien snatched it from his flippers with a huff. 

“It would be a shame, you know. It’s just the kind of thing Pigtails would love to receive.” Plagg shrugged. 

“You think?” Adrien asked, his voice suddenly hopeful.

“Trust me, Adrien, I know. ” 

Adrien couldn’t help the wide smile that spread on his lips at the thought. He went through his latest addition to the letter. 

You know, I feel like my neurons are a little less scrambled now, but Aunt Amélie is keeping me busy on this side of the Channel (I’m really discovering London, though, which is nice – I’d never been to Brixton, Camden or Hampstead Heath, but they’re great places to explore! I’d like to take you there someday, if you’ll allow me), and on the rare occasions I can sit down, which is generally late at night, I have to try and focus to go through the mess we’re going to be faced with. To tell you the truth, I much prefer sitting here writing to you, even though I don’t even know if I’ll ever even send you this letter. 

I keep thinking about the next time I’ll see you. I really want to run back to Paris, to you; I almost did, back on the train. I’m sure there would’ve been a way to stop it in its tracks, but in a way, I’m glad I didn’t. Even if there’s nothing I would’ve liked more than staying with you, putting a little distance between me and my father was quite welcome. If only there’d been a way for you to be with me… 

Sometimes, I think about calling you, but I’m always afraid that it’ll be a bad time, what with the UK being an hour behind you and all.  

He picked up his pen and added:

I hope you’re okay and that you know that I miss you and our hangouts, both in school and on the rooftops. I can’t wait to see you again, my Lady, whatever the circumstances. A small part of me hopes that it’ll be before the trial, or that we’ll get to be alone together for a bit afterwards. You and me against the world, and everything. 

(And maybe some of your dad’s chouquettes.) 

Lots of love, and hope to hear from you soon, 

Your Adrien

“There,” Adrien announced to no one in particular as he sealed his envelope. “I really hope you’re right, Plagg.” 

—

Anyway. I won’t hold you up any longer, but I just thought you should know how I feel. I’ll see you at the trial, at the latest – please don’t love London so much that you won’t come back… 

Forever yours, 

Marinette

Marinette dotted the i in her signature with a heart, and decided against re-reading the whole letter. Instead, she took out an envelope, neatly folded the page in three, and slid it inside. She wrote out Adrien’s name on the front of it, along with the Fathoms’ address, stuck a stamp at the top, and indicated her return address at the back. 

Then, she picked up her bag, and prepared to go to Alya’s. She’d post the letter on her way there; it would distract her from the wait that inevitably came with snail mail. 

She hoped her letter wouldn’t get drowned in the mass of mail Adrien surely received. 

Now, all she had to do was wait.

—

A week later, coming back from school, Marinette found a letter on her desk, and recognised the address’ calligraphy instantly. She all but tore the envelope open, her heart rate accelerating and a smile spreading wider and wider on her lips as her eyes progressed through the message. 

The date at the top told her that Adrien had written to her before reading her letter, but one thing was for sure: they were on the same page.

She placed the sheet back on her desk when she was done, feeling giddier than ever, and reached for her phone – it started ringing in her hands, Adrien’s face lighting up the screen. She almost dropped it in surprise.

“Hi,” Adrien’s voice breathed on the other end of the line.

“Hi,” she repeated, feeling herself blush. “How are–”

“I got your letter,” he blurted quickly, cutting her off. 

“I got yours, too.” She gently ran her fingers down the paper on her desk.

“Good, good.” He chuckled awkwardly. “Hey, I know this is a strange request, but would you mind going up to your balcony for a second?” he blurted quickly, cutting her off.

“Um, okay.” Marinette frowned a little, but still made her way up. Maybe it was a question of connection.

She swiftly pulled herself out of her skylight, and froze. 

Her balcony was covered in red roses: they were entangled in the wrought-iron, stood in vases on the floor, in a petal path leading straight to… Astrochat, sheepishly holding a single red rose. He hung up the phone.

“I love you too, Marinette,” he said. 

Tears welled up in Marinette’s eyes as she threw herself into his arms, hugging him as tightly as she could. 

“Don’t worry about me not coming back, I’ll always stay,” he whispered in her hair. 

Marinette looked up at him, feeling like her heart might burst out of her chest. 

“Glad to hear that, silly cat,” she said with a smile, standing on her tiptoes to brush her lips against his.

One of his arms wrapped around her waist while his other hand softly cupped her face as he deepened the kiss. Fireworks erupted in Marinette’s stomach. She wished time would stand still to let her savour this moment forever. 

Although her wish wasn’t granted, knowing that Adrien returned her feelings and would come back to her did make their parting a little easier. 

“You know, I don’t know what the future holds for us, my Lady,” Astrochat said as he was about to leave, gently taking her hands in his, “but one thing I do know is, if you’ll allow it, I’m never letting go of you, of us. Not if I can help it.” He brought her hands to his lips, his eyes boring into hers.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Marinette answered, pink dusting her cheeks. 

“I bet you will.” He winked. “See you soon, my love.” 

He kissed her again, gently, longingly, and then slid his visor shut and took off. 

Marinette wistfully watched him fly away, her chin propped up on her arms, leaning on her bannister. 

She truly was the lucky one.

[junipernight]

The Lives of Others

(A Chronicles of the Avatar/The Dawn of Yangchen fanfic)

Summary:

Yangchen can trace a direct line between her actions, and Qiu's untimely demise. She wonders how many other deaths she's been responsible for. --or-- Yangchen is haunted by her responsibilities and her past lives both.

She’d killed him.

She may not have lifted a blade to his throat, but as Kavik recounted the initiation process for Zongdu Chaisee’s association, it was imminently clear to Yangchen that her actions had killed him. Qiu, the boy from the tea shop, barely older than herself, who’d completed the clumsiest information hand-off she’d ever seen, was dead now.

And it was her fault.

Bile rose in her throat. Qiu was dead, just like Jetsun, and Mesose, and Alornerk, and a thousand others who had suffered and died because of the Avatar’s incompetence. Guilt pressed down on her, and Yangchen struggled to keep her thoughts on the here and now.

“How could this have happened?" She asked. "You didn’t say your broker was coming to Jonduri!” She said it more accusatorily than she should have. After all, Kavik hadn’t written the misinformative message that led to Qiu’s murder.

Misinformative. Her thoughts snagged on the word. Yangchen had carefully released so much misinformation in her brief time on the world stage. It was complete chance that she’d learned Qiu's fate. How could she be sure that her other false missives hadn’t resulted in similarly brutal consequences?

“He obviously changed his mind after I talked to him,” said Kavik. “What do we do now?”

(She couldn’t afford to be indecisive-) (it wasn’t his fault, Passang was the one who-) (Blood. So much blood, if only she’d learned how to-)

“What do we do?” Kavik repeated.

(Her enemies wouldn’t hesitate, she needed to-) (it wasn’t. his. fault.)

“Avatar, this is your call,” said Tayagum

(Had she gambled too much? Was it time to cut her losses?)

“I don’t know,” she muttered. 

“You can’t not know!” Kavik cried. “We’ve been following your orders, and now two people are dead! What is the plan here?”

“I said I don’t know!” She snapped.

She should retreat to the mountains, like she’d done before. Find a remote cave to sequester herself in, and scream until stalagmites rained from the sky and her throat was bloodied.

… had she done that before? Had that been Yangchen? 

(In my era- ) (She’d brought this upon-) 

“Avatar-,” Akudan began

“If you could just shut up for a moment—there’s too many of you, there’s always too many of you, and none of you ever stop. You never stop— ”

Yangchen stood up with a gust that sent the papers in the room fluttering. 

She needed to get out of here, away from the people whose lives she held in her hands like pai sho tiles, away from their watching eyes, somewhere she could drown out the voices.

She barely had the presence of mind to don the pieces of her disguise before she stormed out the door.

____________________________________________________________

Author's Note:

Hello, please accept my humble first offering to the Chronicles of the Avatar fandom! Disclaimer 1: I'm aware that this ficlet borrows heavily from The Dawn of Yangchen, and covers very little new ground. However, I wanted to write it anyway because I’m convinced there was more happening in that scene than was apparent to Kavik and the rest of Team Avatar, and I wanted to explore that. In general, I’d like to write more fanfic exploring Yangchen’s relationships to her past lives and her current teammates. My future stories should be more original ^^' Disclaimer 2: I've only read the audiobooks; please forgive me if I misspell some things.

[cepetriwrites]

The Unexpected Second Life of Bree Tanner - Chapter 12

Read on AO3

Bree POV

The Cullens immediately vetoed the idea of me roadtripping to Nevada to visit my mother’s grave, after I had calmed down from my… not crying, I understood. I was still upset, but truth be told I wasn’t ready to trust myself around humans yet. Truthfully, if I had known Bella could stop me, I don’t think my gratitude would have kept me from killing her. And I didn’t feel a life debt to the rest of the humans. The Cullens didn’t eat people because it was wrong to kill other humans, it made them feel guilty. I don’t know how they managed to feel that way. Sometimes I would feel bad, hearing their screams, but I was so hungry all the time, nothing else mattered but trying to soothe the burning. I don’t even know if I actually liked the taste of blood, or if I liked how it soothed the pain.

A couple days had passed, when the kids were in school I spent most of my time trying to remember my mom. It’s like I had been drunk my whole life, everything felt hazy, Rosalie explained to me after I had a panic attack – at least I think it was, hard to tell when you don’t need to breathe – that if I focused on my memories, they would become clear again, and never fade. So that’s what I had been doing nearly every moment. Shifting through my memories, trying to remember everything, hoping it would help me piece together my mom.

Unfortunately there were a lot of bad memories too, sometimes I had to take breaks and I’d paint with Esme, or watch tv with Emmett, play a family board game. I wondered if it was worth all the pain it took, but my whole life I thought my mom had abandoned me, that my abusive father was the one who loved me, because at least he stayed. Eventually I figured I was just unlovable. But I had been wrong. My mom had cared about me. I had dug up a near-forgotten memories of pancakes in the morning, that we made together. I wanted to remember everything, because if I was wrong about my mom, maybe one day I would look back and realized other people had cared about me too. Despite what my dad used to say.

It did cause migraines, so I had decided to take a break and use the Cullen’s computer. I hadn’t gotten to use one much when I was human, of course the Cullens could afford the best. They kept reassuring me they could afford to fix anything I broke, that everyone had broken a lot of expensive stuff, but the idea of breaking this high tech computer with its Windows 95 system terrified me. I couldn’t bring myself to type on the keyboard so I would use a pencil when no one was looking. It made typing a lot slower.

“You don’t need to do that,” Rosalie said from the hallway, I dropped my pencil and nearly fell out of my chair. How does a vampire sneak up on another vampire?!

“I just… don’t want to break anything.”

Rosalie gave me a smile, “If it makes you feel better, what are you looking up?”

“Um,” I looked at the loading page for cinnamon sticks, I was in to deep to explain that. “just… learning how to use it.”

“Cool, do you want to go for a ride? I’ve upgraded the suspension on my baby and it rides like a dream, no humans.”

“Sure!” Driving in Rosalie’s car sounded fun, an opportunity Human Bree never would’ve gotten. Rose was the mechanic of the family, I had watched her do an oil change once, it felt weird seeing a supermodel covered in oil, but somehow she pulled it off.

Driving with the windows down, and the wind in our hair, I felt like a normal girl, I had bothered to ask how long we’d be out, it’s not like we had a curfew. She kept driving her convertible until we had to stop for gas. “Are we going back now?” I asked as she turned on to the road.

“Nope.” She said, putting her sunglasses back on.

I started to feel nervous, “Where are we going?”

“Nevada.”

“What!” I shouted, “Rosalie I can’t go to Nevada! Dr Carlisle and Esme said no!” I looked at her phone it had buzzed multiple times, when I had asked Rosalie said Emmett was messaging her and she’d answer later, then she had turned it off. “Rose… has Emmett been messaging you?”

“A couple times, but eventually the rest of the family figured out what was going on.”

I nervously gripped my seat belt, “We’re going to get in trouble! They found out! There’s a psychic in the family, why did you try to get away with this?”

“Try? I did, we’re too far away for them to get to us unless they get a flight, and even then, we’ll still reach our destination.”

“How did you even pull this off?”

“Because I’m smart and know things. Like that Alice sees everything, but can’t pay attention to everything, she’s only paying attention to if you cause trouble. Even if she doesn’t want to admit it, she’s also hyperfocused on throwing the best wedding and graduation party, and trying to see if the florist will get a cold, which means she’s slacking on watching you. I know that Edward can’t read your mind, and he’s too busy trying to spend every second with his precious girlfriend, and making sure her grades don’t drop because he’s trying to get her to start at one of the many colleges she’s applied too, and the ones he secretly applied to on her behalf. I knew that when Carlisle went to work, & Esme got roped into doing shopping with Alice in Seattle, that Jasper would be kept busy by Emmett and not even think about asking where we’re going. And I knew that I could drive for hours without Alice being the wiser as long as I didn’t think about where I was going.”

Never cross Rosalie Cullen, “What about us? We can’t go in the Sun and I don’t want to accidentally hurt someone.”

“That’s why I have the gloves and hats, you’re going to stay in the car. Besides you just ate and I can the news about your mom is making you much more empathetic, you’re not going to go hunting for anyone right now.”

“You were fearless as a human, weren’t you?” Rosalie replied by flashing her dazzlingly white teeth at me.

I didn’t know if Rosalie was right, but she sounded so confident, it was impossible to not believe her, so I turned up the radio and decided to enjoy the ride. Super massive black hole came blaring through, the wind was in my hair, I felt normal.

Almost twenty hours later we arrived at my hometown: Las Vegas, Nevada. The Sun was blazing in the sky, so Rosalie pulled over to a motel, she explained she had booked it in advance, and we hid out in a room with the curtains drawn tight. “This feels so risky,” I said as I relaxed on the spring mattress while Rosalie idly flipped through the tv channels.

Rosalie snorted, “You should ask Alice about her little ‘day trip’ to Italy, sometime. We’re the well-behaved ones of the family compared to her and Edward.”

“Really? But I’m the one who’s always thinking about eating people.”

Rosalie gave a sympathetic look, “Jasper has you beat still, we’ve had to move four times because of him, we try not to mention it. He always spirals into a depression after a slip up.”

The Cullens seemed so perfect to me, it was reassuring to hear they disowned their parents and sometimes accidentally ate a person. It made it easier for me to believe I could belong with them. “Hey Rose, if you brought me with spontaneously, how did you book the motel in advance?" I asked after a bit of silence.

“Oh, I had been planning to come down here, bringing you along was a last minute opportunity.” She didn’t have to explain why she would make a random trip out to the too sunny Las Vegas, I knew she was trying to help me learn more about my mom.

We laid there in comfortable silence for a few more hours, until Rosalie went to front office to attend to “some business”. When she returned, she had a white USPS box in her hands. I sat up, “What is that?”

Rosalie handed the box to me, “It’s um,” this was strange, I had never seen Rosalie nervous before. “It’s your mom.” My mouth hung open, “It’s why I came to Nevada. She didn’t have any next of kin left to claim her, so I had Emmett fake some paperwork and ship the remains to our motel.”

“Remains?”

“She was cremated,” Rosalie explained, “I hope that’s okay. This way you can always bring her with you.”

I slowly pulled out the plastic bag in the box. It was filled with gray dust, ashes, that used to be my mom. “HUMAN REMAINS” was stamped in bold letters, along with her name: Erica Tanner. I stared at the package for a long time, trying to understand how one person could end up being a few pounds of ashes. I ran my thumb over her name. “Hi Mommy.” If I could’ve cried a second time, I would’ve. Rosalie wrapped me in a hug until the sun went down.

The whole drive back, I kept my mother hugged tight to my chest. I was never going to let her go again.

[rosesradio]

the heart’s first beat--a byler drabble

word count: 775

warnings: brief discussion of lonnie, hurt/comfort

Will wasn't sure what he did wrong.

He sat against the sycamore tree, and his eyes stung as he tapped his pencil against his drawing. Tied to one of the tree’s thick branches was a giant tire swing, and the thick rope scraped his delicate hands when Will touched it. Mike was there now, in the swing, pushing himself idly. Even at six-and-a-half, he'd grown to be the tallest of the class, the only one whose feet touched the ground when sitting in the swing.

Mike--Michael, the teachers called him, as he hadn't thought to tell them otherwise, because Will was the only one to call him Mike--he was looking at him. He wasn't speaking. Because he just asked if there was trouble at home, with Will's dad, and Will's silence was all the answer he needed.

Will flipped the pages in notebook--his mom couldn't afford a fancy sketchbook like he'd seen on TV, and he didn't expect that of her; his notebook had a tiger on the cover, and she'd gotten it discounted at the store she worked at, and that was the best thing Will could ask for.

He landed on the page he hadn't allowed himself to turn to, as if scared it would turn into something monstrous in the face of his father's words. Words of his own caught in his throat--words, tears, pleas. Whatever it was--the lump in his throat was worth swallowing, to avoid the whole thing.

"I'm sorry I'm not talking," Will said, his voice small. “I just,” he took an unsteady breath. “Got in trouble with dad yesterday.”

“Yeah?” Mike asked, prompting him further.

Will nodded, small fingers tracing along his drawing. It was Mike, in his knight’s armor, brandishing a shield decorated by a heart with a crown on top. Will just liked the design, that was all--when he and Mike played Knights & Wizards, Mike the Knight had a lot of bravery and heart.

“I told mom about how Emma and Mark got married by the slide yesterday. And I thought, maybe...I told her...I mean...we could get married by the slide, too. Because then we could play Knights and Wizards for the rest of our lives. And then...” Will’s eyes watered as he held his thin notebook close, trembling despite the warm April air. “She said that was a good idea. But dad heard and he,” Will shut his eyes, shaking his head.

“Hey,” Mike got down from the tire swing, kneeling down in front of Will. “It’s okay. Your dad sucks, and your mom’s right. That’s two against one, right? I’d much rather marry you play Knights and Wizards than marry someone like Emma. She makes Mark give her the candy from his lunch box every day.”

Will laughed softly, sniffling and wiping his eyes. He looked back down at his drawing, at the heart resting so boldly upon the defensive shield. “Do you think the drawing is stupid? Dad tried to take it away, but mom grabbed it for me...I didn’t mean to cause any trouble...”

“You didn’t,” Mike replied almost instantly. “You never do, Will. Your dad was the one who had a problem. I love the drawing, really...” he gently took the notebook from Will, getting a better look. “If you’ll get in trouble for having the drawing...maybe I could keep it? I’ll hang it up in the basement, I’m the only one who goes down there.”

Will smiled crookedly, tearing off the page gently and handing it over. “Do you plan on starting a whole collection?” he asked, unsure if he was joking or not.

“Of course,” Mike answered, so genuinely it made Will’s face flush. “They’ll be like movie posters for all of our adventures! And this,” he pointed to the heart drawn on his shield. “It’ll be our secret symbol. That we’re a pair, like Emma and Mark. And we are gonna be together, playing Knights and Wizards and anything else we want forever. I promise.”

Will beamed, unable to help but throw his arms around Mike, almost tackling him against the grass. “Thank you, Mike...”

Mike wrapped his arms around Will, returning the hug for only a moment before pulling away--Will knew it was just so potential bullies wouldn’t see, so he didn’t mind.

“Does this mean I can have the candy from your lunchbox?” Will asked hopefully.

Mike groaned, seeming to already regret his decision. “Okay, but only if you promise to make another drawing. With Mike the Knight and Will the Wise.”

Will nodded, flipping the page and immediately getting to work. Oddly--but comfortingly--he could still feel Mike’s eyes on him as he drew.

[paandaan]

“But she doesn’t count and you know it.” Winston took the lighter off the coffee table and lit his cigarette.

“She’s got to count a hell of a lot if you’re marrying her.” David looked out the living-room window with his hands wedged deeply into his jeans pockets.

“Why?” Winston blew the smoke noisily between his tight jaws. “She wanted a husband—I needed a wife. It’s straight out of a soap opera. And they lived happily ever after until the next floor-wax commercial.”

David shook his head slowly. “If that’s your attitude, then I feel sorry for that girl. She’s got some life waiting for her.”

“What other attitude am I supposed to have?” He savagely crushed the freshly lit cigarette into the tray. “I didn’t want this—they did. And I’d think you’d save a little of that pity you’re so generous with for me. What kind of life am I gonna have, goddammit!”

“It’s the kind you want, Winston.”

“That’s a lie."

[...]

“Then if it’s a lie, son, I guess you’ll be thinking about marriage soon.” Mr. Alcott narrowed his eyes as he spoke, and he tapped the envelope in his hand gently on the top of his desk. “I assume you’re seeing someone now. A young man with your looks and future must be beating them off with a stick.” He smiled slowly.

“Sure, I date a lot.” Winston’s throat was dry. “But I don’t see any need to rush into something serious. For God’s sake, I’m only thirty, Dad.”

“Well, I’d already had two children by the time I was your age.” He continued to stare at his son.

“The world’s a lot different now.” Winston hated the tone creeping into his voice; it was too defensive. And in spite of the air-conditioning in the office, he felt himself sweating. “Some men aren’t settling down until their forties. I figured once I’m thirty-five or so I’d start thinking about it. By then my career should be—”

“By then …” Mr. Alcott’s voice suddenly shed its soft covering. “You might not have a career. Whoever sent me this letter threatened to send one to the senior partner in your firm. And they said that the next one would be accompanied by pictures.”

“Pictures of what?” Winston leaned forward in his chair. “Of me having lunch with David? Of us walking down the street or sailing out at the lake? Those are the only type of pictures that anyone could have. And they can send them to be printed up in the damn newspaper for all I care.” He was horrified because he couldn’t control the rising hysteria in his voice. “Or maybe that sick creep will clip out the picture from our college yearbook, where David has his arm across my shoulder at graduation—yeah, that’s certainly hard-core evidence to condemn me with.”

“It just might be.” Mr. Alcott frowned at the envelope in his hand. “Remember who you are and where you are. A law firm like Farragut and Conway would kick you out tomorrow if you sneezed wrong. So do you think a black man can afford to have these types of rumors hanging over his head?”

“I’m telling you, they’re a lot of filthy lies.” Winston was trembling visibly. “But if you want to believe them, go ahead.”

“Lies or not”—Mr. Alcott came from around the desk and put his hand on Winston’s shoulder—“filthy or not”—he squeezed the narrow back—“they’ll make you hang for it, son. I didn’t invent this world, Winston. But I broke my ass so you and your brother could have it a lot easier than I did. And you’ve done me proud. Your life’s barely begun and you’re already living in Linden Hills. I could never dream of that when I was your age. Sure, worse comes to worst, you could come here and work for me. But in ten years, twenty years, would you be happy as a lousy insurance broker? You’re brilliant, boy. Don’t throw away a chance to be a corporate lawyer with a firm like that because of … well, because you’re young and can’t really see what it might mean later. And since you say you’re planning to think about marriage, now is as good a time as any, isn’t it?”

There was a long silence.

“Well, isn’t it?” Mr. Alcott repeated himself, but Winston knew it was no longer an open question. It was a final challenge to confirm or deny that letter.

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“Good.” Mr. Alcott patted his back. “No one’s asking you to rush out and marry the first woman you see outside today. But mull it over and I think, with all things considered, you’ll realize that it’s the kind of life you want, Winston.”

[...]

“If it’s not the life you really want”—David turned away from the living-room window—“remember, I offered you another.” And his round, brown eyes melted slowly into his words. They melted for Winston like the mist on his steamed bathroom mirror as he stood before it clean and wet with the memory of the hot, beaded water still caressing his back and shoulders. And him reaching out with his hand to clear it away—first from the face that stared back so like his own. The firm even jaw, the damp wiry beard that could be traced down into the chest if he were careful and gentle enough to move aside the stray hairs that grew into the smooth plane of the neck. The mist sliding down the neck toward the chest under his slowly circling hand, revealing the silvery image of his waist, his hips, his lean and woven thighs. The wetness slipping across the sweating glass over the fine down on the testicles and collecting there like crystal welts. Palm following palm, breath meeting breath through the blurred mirror—complete.

Winston tore his eyes from David’s face and they followed his voice into his hands. “I can’t live with you. Not in Linden Hills. That would be suicide, and you know it.”

“There are other places to live.”

“Not like this—and my future is here. My career …”

“Fine!” David threw up his hands. “I don’t need a thousand replays of that tune—I’ve heard it all before. I understand where you’re coming from, believe me. And all this new development means is that you’ve chosen to live without me. It’s really sort of simple, isn’t it?”

Winston looked up at him with narrowing eyes. “Why are you doing this to me? We’ve been through so much together. Why do you want to try and hurt me now? You know she can’t touch what we have between us. If you really understood, you wouldn’t be standing there trying to make me choose when there’s really no choice about it.”

“For Christ’s sake!” David’s fist came down on the windowsill. “No one is making you do anything. You have chosen, brother. So just act like a man and admit it. Have enough backbone for once in your life to accept responsibility for what you really want. Not your father, not your law firm—you, Winston. Because I’m man enough to know what I want. And it’s not playing second fiddle in anybody’s life.”

“So because I have to do this, you’re telling me that it’s over.”

“That’s right.”

“I don’t believe you.” Winston shook his head. “I don’t believe that you can turn your back on eight years just like that. People don’t give up friends that way.”

“Sure, we can still be friends. And as your best friend, I’m standing up with you as your best man next week, aren’t I? It would look sort of strange if I didn’t. But that’s not what we’re talking about now, so don’t play games with me.”

Winston looked down into his hands again. No, that’s not what they were talking about. And they weren’t even talking about remaining lovers; they had moved beyond that years ago. Because when two people still held on like he and David, after all the illusions had died, and accepted the other’s lacks and ugliness and irritating rhythms—when they had known the joys of a communion that far outstripped the flesh—they could hardly just be lovers. No, this man gave him his center, but the world had given him no words—and ultimately no way—with which to cherish that. He smiled bitterly and looked up. “Don’t you see what I’m up against? How am I going to live with you when they haven’t even made up the right words for what we are to each other?”

“Oh, they’ve made up plenty of words and you can read them on any public bathroom wall. And that’s what you can’t face. You want the world to turn inside out and make up a nice, neat title that you can put on your desk. And that’s not about to happen. You can’t handle anything less than that because you’re a made man, Winston. They made you a good son, a promising young lawyer, and now they’ve made you ashamed of what you are. You can go ahead and run from it. But don’t expect me to run with you.”

“I’m not running from anything.” Winston forced his voice through his closing throat. “I’ve accepted that I can’t live without you. And I’ve been trying to tell you that all afternoon in every way I can. Do you want to make me beg now, is that it?”

David sighed and went over to the couch and lifted Winston’s face gently. “The only thing I want you to do is finally to try and start making yourself. Make yourself happy with that girl—please, do that.” He took his hand away. “Because she’s all you’ve got now.”

Winston’s face slowly crumbled and he reached for a cigarette, but his hands were trembling so badly he brought them back to his lap ashamed.

David watched him with a sharp tenderness in his stomach, and before he could stop the words, they burst out of his mouth. “But you remember, I was willing to do anything for you.”

Winston’s smile was almost cruel. “You can’t walk into Sinai Baptist next week and marry me.”

David pressed his lips together as if he’d been slapped.

“Right.” He nodded his head slowly. “You got me there. And since I can’t be your wife, I won’t be your whore.”

Linden Hills, Gloria Naylor

[callin4mariiia]

Part 8 of “5.5 Years”

I allowed the things that were going on at home to run my everyday life, I was distracted at work I wasn’t eating and I was losing weight. We’d gotten to a point where we couldn’t last 2 whole weeks without a big blow up. On numerous occasions I’d leave to stay the night at my sister house, not telling her I’m coming over because I couldn’t bear to be home. Or there were even times where he’d tell me to pack my shit and leave….. I’d pack up all of my belongings load my car and drive to my sisters house, again not telling her what was going on I’d stay for a day or two with my car loaded with my shit and he’d call me to come back home.

HOW THE HELL ARE YOU GOING TO KICK ME OUT OF A PLACE THAT HAS MY NAME ON THE LEASE?????

The entire time that we lived together he had difficulty keeping a job which would leave me with the full responsibility of rent and groceries until I couldn’t support both of our rental obligation and only my half. Everything was in my name the water electricity WiFi!!!! But he’d put me out?

In 2021, after I could no longer afford all of the home expenses as well as my car and my own personal bills and could only pay half of the rent we ended up having a large balance of unpaid rent and we were threatened with eviction. He would use the excuse that he couldn’t work due to health reasons (but would never go to the doctors) but during the pandemic the state of MD was offering rental assistance which I applied for and we were approved, that saved up for that year and at the point that we received it we were halfway into 2022.

Even after we received the assistance he couldn’t keep a job and we went back to the same predicament that we were in with only me working and trying to cover the bills ultimately acquiring another built up balance of past due rent.

After changing jobs to be closer to my home I ended up befriending 2 women where I worked, one night I went out with the 2 of them and when I got home I told him about my time and he didn’t care until I described one of the women and he tells me “I don’t want you hanging out with her she’s a slut” …… well how do you know that? “She messes with one of my men and I’ve heard about her”. He’s telling me all these terrible things that he’s “heard” and I actually like her so I ask asked her if she knew the guy (his friend) and she said yes and began telling me how he tried to talk to her but she didn’t want him and he was hurt about it. She asked me how I knew about him so I told her that he was a friend of my boyfriend and what he said.

She calls the guy asking him why he’s spreading rumors and the next thing you know I get a call from HIM and as soon as I pick up he’s cursing me out! “KEEP MY FRIENDS NAME OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!” Don’t talk about him! ……. (Because he had just been caught up spreading lies!)

[swamp-tastic]

OC Kiss Week #1 - Diva&Rogue

It was already late… she said that she would be here before midnight. But the moon had already reached its zenith and was descending again.

Diva sighed. It was typical of Rogue to let her down. And to think she had gone through all the trouble of sneaking out, despite the heightened security risk.

The woman held her cloak closer, and made herself on the way home. Silently she cursed the high heels she wore. Since Rogue made such a fuss about meeting on time, Diva didn’t have much time to change after her performance.

And so, she walked through the dark alleys, in her finest heels, with a dress that most people could never afford, hidden under a thick black cloak, all because she had put her hopes on Rogue, only to be let down. Again.

“Did you hear? Someone assaulted the afterparty in the manor of that big noble.” Hearing the Guards speak, Diva quickly pressed herself against the wall of the alley. She really didn’t want to explain why she was out here.

“Yeah, a bunch of lunatics. Seems like no one has been injured at least.” The other guard replied.

Diva couldn’t help but scowl. So Rogue and her band of friends had attacked the after party she would have been at? No doubt to keep her safe, she thought sarcastically. One of these days, Diva would have to remind Rogue of the powers her voice could have. She’d have been a great addition to any fight! ….that was beside the point….

Quickly Diva continued her walk home. However, she soon came to a halt as she bumped into two people that could best be described as “thugs”.

“Looky here, what’s this pretty flower doing here?” “In all her finest clothes too, what a coincidence.” The tone with which the two of them spoke sent shivers down Divas back. She backed away slightly, however the two thugs only stepped closer.

“What are ya, some runaway merchant princess?” “I’d think so! We might make some good coin if we exchange you for ransom.” Backing away, Divas' back hit a wall.

She faced the two thugs. They’d easily be able to overpower her. Diva would need to use her voice. It was easy. A simple scream and the magic hidden within it, would send the two of them flying. However…. If she screamed these two thugs away, then the guards would hear her. She’d have to explain what she was doing out here in the middle of the night.

But also… she was scared. This was very real danger. Her nerves were going wild. Thoughts of being grabbed and held brought back memories of her time as an orphan on the streets. Unwelcome memories.

Just as Diva was about to be forced to make a decision, two loud thuds caught her attention.

Looking up, the woman was face to face with a smiling Rogue.

“Ran into trouble?” she asked with a smug smirk, as she extended her hand to help Diva up.

With a loud “hmpf” Diva turned her head away, but gratefully took the extended hand.

As Diva finally stood, she dusted off her dress. She could tell that Rogue was anxious, but Diva decided to not be the bigger person. After all, it was all Rogue's fault. The least that scoundrel could do was apologize.

“Diva, listen, I…” Rogue stammered. Then she started coughing.

Surprised, Diva finally looked closer at Rogue, only to find the other woman covered in bruises.

“Rogue… what happened…” Her wounded pride forgotten, Diva rushed to Rogues side to inspect her closer.

“We ran into a bit of trouble tonight…” Rogue admitted sheepishly. “Both Beast and Haurios showed up and- oh, wait, you don’t know them.”

Diva looked at Rogue with a raised eyebrow. “Haurios? As in, the plains in Pandemonium? Please, at least come up with a better excu-” Watching Rogue's face, Diva realized that she wasn’t lying.  “Wait, for real?! Haurios!?! You fought a Demon God?!”

In response, Rogue smiled. “No biggie.” She laughed a bit, but then flinched in pain as she held her sides. “Uff, I got hit harder than I thought.”

Diva removed Rogue's shirt. Underneath it, she could see her body turning blue and black all over. “Oh dear…. I’m not a healer or anything, but I think you might have broken a rib or two…”

Rogue grimaced for a second, before smiling at the taller woman. “If you wanted to see me shirtless you could have- urgh!”

The silence of the night was broken as a gentle song filled the air. Taking both of Rogue's hands into her own, Diva fixed Rogue with a warm look before continuing to sing.

Rogue recognized the tune. It was a ballad of a woman singing about her lover going off to war, leaving the singer alone. Even though the woman was scared and filled with doubts, she continued to pray for her husband's safety. After many weeks, news of his death reached the woman, who wasted away from heartbreak.

Normally, it would be a rather melancholic song, but Diva made it sound like it was a hopeful melody of enduring love.

After finishing the first few verses, where the woman felt secure that her husband would soon return to her, Diva stopped singing.

“Do you feel better?” Diva asked.

Rogue looked down at her body. The pain of her bruises was gone, even though she still looked like she’d fallen down the stairs.

“A bit, yeah.” She smiled.

“Good.” Dive smiled. She still held Rogue's hands in her own. “I wasn’t sure if I would be able to ease the pain.” The two women looked at each other, both blushing.

Slowly, the two of them got ever closer to each other, lips almost touching, when Diva suddenly shoved Rogue away.

“Fighting a demon god doesn’t excuse leaving me out cold!” She crossed her arms and pulled up her nose.

Rogue, for her part, simply smiled bashfully. “Well, is there a way that I can make it up to you?” There was a certain edge to her voice.

When Diva looked back at Rogue, her eyes shimmered with want.

With a quick jump, the two of them dashed away from the back alleys, evading the guards just in time. 

As Rogue landed on the balcony of Divas room, the songstress in her arms, the two of them wasted barely any time. Diva pushed Rogue on the grand bed, looking down at her lover. “Let’s see if I am worse than a Demon God.” As Diva spoke those last words, she shuddered. The knowledge that Rogue had just survived- no, fought, something like that, made Diva all the more eager for what was to come.

Like a hungry wolf, Diva pushed down, meeting Rogues mouth with her own.

As the first rays of morning flooded the room, Diva awoke to an empty bed. She sighed, but couldn’t say that she was surprised. 

Still, there was much to be done today. For a few more moments she enjoyed the comfort of her fluffy bed, before standing up.

Licking over her lips, Diva could swear she could still taste Roge.

“Had fun?” Warrior asked, not looking at Rogue as she entered the door. The beastborn was preparing breakfast, without a shirt. The wounds he sustained in the fight last night seemed to have fully healed already. “You know, Angel was really annoyed you didn’t stay to be patched up. Better prepare for a lecture.”

With that, Warriors ' concentration returned to making breakfast.

Rogue for her part simply threw herself on the couch. 

Her body hurt all over and she had to face the reality that Diva didn’t mend her broken bones. At least she couldn’t tell if the pain she was feeling came from last night's fight, last night's “excursion” or the way home.

Oh well, Divas lipstick was still smeared all over her face, and Rogue enjoyed the taste of it.

[keuraecray]

Everything is too much today.

My cat hasn’t been eating which means she doesn’t hydrate well being she won’t drink from a bowl. She’s lethargic and nauseous. Vet ran blood work and other tests and $300 later, said she’s perfectly fine. She still looks just as awful. I feel like she is suffering and in pain but everyone tells me to wait it out and she’ll be fine. A fat cat who’s only pleasure is gorging on literally anything that will barely eat anything is clearly not okay. I feel deep remorse thinking about how little I could do for my last cat who I may have prematurely put down. I’m miserable every day over it. And now I can’t afford to do anything but the bare minimum. I know something is deeply wrong and that she has some type of heart issues but I can’t afford anything and it makes me miserable.

I’ve been sick for years with no known cause and my sister I live with has had her own pile of issues that aren’t as straightforward and mess with her mental state. To my family its a strange mystery. To me it’s an insufferable thought always on my mind. I feel like I know the exact root cause.

I firmly believe we have a hidden mold issue causing all our health problems but everyone tells us off saying it’s not possible. My health issues started years ago and we’ve moved multiple times. But people never consider that they could be living in it themselves.

All of my health issues started when I was living in my aunts basement while I was figuring out housing (which is frequently flooded when there’s heavy rain). I was waking up at night gaping for air and went to my original family doctor who said I had anxiety and slapped some meds on me. That was my first apnea. I don’t have them severe enough to be diagnosed with sleep apnea but it is unmistakable.

I’ve always had some level of gut issues but I had always associated it with stress and nerves being things were oh so peachy as a kid. As you get older and the gut issues worsen with or without that original cause, you realize something else is up.

Fast forward to nearing the end of the pandemic. I started having severe brain fog. After countless specialist visits and meeting multiple deductibles, since getting in to specialists takes forever, I was left with no answers. We all chalked it up to long covid since I had at least one confirmed case.

The brain fog had gotten so bad while I was at work I literally felt like I had dementia. Couldn’t remember conversations I’d had with coworkers. They were starting to talk to me about it being an issue with my quality of work but they already had unreasonable expectations to begin with so I just found ways to get around it. I was miserable there and they knew it so I lost my job last month.

My coworker was studying Eastern Medicine and invited me to a student clinic where I had acupuncture at an affordable rate. I felt like I was getting better but as soon as we stopped it would all creep back up. My acupuncturist had asked me if I’d been exposed to mold. She lived through it and thought she saw the symptoms in me. I brushed it off like my family did, in part because I didn’t think it was possible and in part it was just purely denial.

I’ve looked into how to remediate on your own but can’t even afford the basic protective equipment necessary to avoid landing myself in a hospital for it. Don’t have health insurance and have been too depressed to try and apply for low/no cost insurance.

Then there’s the wildfires wrecking havoc on my lungs. There’s a gap the size of my pinky nail in my window of my bedroom so smoke gets in to the house on the bad air quality days. I stuffed a cloth and plastic bags in it with no relief. Ran our air exchange to try to filter what I could out. Filters were black with ash. I found scraps of plastic for sealing the windows in the winter months and have since taped off the window in the hopes that it will help but still feel awful on the bad days.

We have insurance that supposedly covers mold (whether its to replace belongings or to remediate I have no clue) but I’m paralyzed to do anything because we have no money or income even if insurance will help. I feel sicker and sicker each day. The only sleep I seem to get is when I pass out from exhaustion. Even before the health issues started causing me insomnia my cat wouldn’t let me sleep because she would get hangry between 4-8 am. We wound up saving an injured kitten since we didn’t want them euthanized being all the shelters are full. While my big fat cat has been sick he’s taken over in waking me on the few days I actually sleep decently.

Mold is naturally occurring and is present in every home at lower levels but I firmly believe everyone in my family has been living in stuff that’s beyond the point of “healthy”. Friends have their own families and no space so I really feel like I have nowhere else safe to live. I just can’t keep it together. I thought things were going so well when I started my last job despite the foggy brain but it seems like everything is going to hell rapidly in the last couple of months.

[cigvrettedvet]

harley & shannon.

   “but i’m your brat.” shannon said with a smile as she leaned into her touch and wrapped her arms around her tightly. at least they were now in a good place, and she knew they couldn’t afford to be distant when they were still living paycheck to paycheck. “i have to work on my temper too, and i need to listen to you more.” her smile widened as she moved her chin so she could catch her eyes and leaned in to give her a soft kiss. “and i’ll never stop loving you, promise.” just having the two of them back in the same bed was a huge step in the right direction. no more lonely nights wishing that harley would just come join her. as she pulled the covers back, she climbed in right away and moved over to make some room for her. “i don’t mind being the little spoon… maybe we should both call out tomorrow.” sure she knew that they needed the money, but after the fight that they just had, they needed some time with one another. whether it be going out to lunch, or even just laying in bed together they needed a break, and they needed a break together. as she cuddled up near her, she rested her head on her shoulder and sighed happily. “we could go on a date, or have a date here if you want. watch a couple of movies, sleep in, whatever you want to do.” her smile widened as she tucked some hair out of her face and leaned up to give her a quick peck. 

            “mm. fair point,” harley agreed with a small smile. she wouldn’t want for shannon to be anyone else’s brat anyways. harley was happy that they were no longer fighting and avoiding each other again. they needed to work together, especially given the circumstances they were in. they’d fall apart if they didn’t. harley melts when shannon kisses her and all feels right in the world when shannon tells her that she’ll never stop loving her. “good, because i’d be really fucking sad if you stopped,” harley playfully responds. soon, the two would be in bed together and harley held onto shannon as promised. “really?” harley asked, surprised. shannon was always about working and now she wanted for them to have the day off. “who are you and what have you done with the real shannon carter?” still, harley isn’t about to complain. all they’ve done was work and while it was for good reasons and to make sure they stayed afloat, harley wanted for them to still have fun. “we’ll have a date here and watch a whole bunch of scary movies. i can be the one to comfort you when you get too scared,” harley offers with a grin. “maybe i’ll slip in one comedy movie. maybe.” she was willing to do whatever, even if meant relax with her girlfriend and stay in the whole day.

[after-witch]

As a Smiling Man prompt:

Your friend smiled at you.

"If you could wish for anything, what would it be?"

"I wouldn't wish for anything. What is the guarantee that my life wouldn't be worse after it?"

Title: Inclinations [Smiling Man x Reader]

Synopsis: You're careful what you wish for. But are you careful enough?

Word Count: 1379

notes: nothing except  smiling man is bastard man but that's why we love him

Your friend smiled at you.

"If you could wish for anything, what would it be?"

"I wouldn't wish for anything. What is the guarantee that my life wouldn't be worse after it?"

She rolled her eyes and waved a French fry at you. It was normal for the two of you to get into these type of hypothetical discussions over your lunch dates. And yes, she usually got annoyed when you found yourself unable to answer these supposedly fun hypothetical without first considering all possibilities.

“Fine,” she said, voice more determined. “Let’s say that in this hypothetical wish scenario, your life would not be worse after it . The wish would be perfectly fulfilled and you would get everything you want from the wish. What would you wish for?” She dipped the end of her half-eaten fry in ketchup and chewed while she watched, waiting for your response.

You mulled it over. You hated these types of questions simply because of the potential outliers and possibilities and all of the ways it could go wrong. Sure, you might get your wish, but there would be some terrible catch. Like a woman who tells a genie she wishes to be the most beautiful woman in the world, and finds herself turned into a famous, admired painting.

But if there were no catch…

“I guess…”

You sighed, and leaned your cheek against the palm of your hand. What would you wish for? It’s not exactly something you thought about often. Wishes don’t come true. Wishing on stars doesn’t work, there is no such thing as a genie lamp, and no fairy godmother was ever going to float down in a bubble and grant your dreams.

But… if they did come true. And there was no catch?

“I’d want the life I imagined for myself when I was a kid.” You leaned forward and took the straw of your milkshake into your mouth, sucking up a thin stream of half-melted chocolate milkshake into your mouth. “I’d be a successful writer who makes enough from their writing not to worry about bills or anything at all. I’d be married to somebody that loves me.”

The dream-wish became something a little more concrete as you built it, like a child stacking block-upon-block.

“I’d have at least one kid. My family would be alive to annoy me and come over every Sunday for dinner. We’d live close together, but not so close that they drive me nuts. My house would be old and beautiful--”

Your friend jabbed another ketchup-covered fry at you. “With servants stairs still intact?”

You bit back a grin. It was exactly the sort of thing you gushed about when you sent your friend Zillow listings of old houses in town that you would never, ever be able to afford. “Exactly.”

You stretched your arms, and in that moment couldn’t help but notice a pair of eyes were on you from across the cafe, watching as you spoke. It was a man, sipping a coffee in one hand and picking at a plate of fries with the other. He had blonde hair that fell just a bit over his face and large, thin glasses that made him look a bit like a barn owl. When he caught you staring at him staring, he offered a sheepish smile. You couldn’t help but smile back. Something about the expression was a little infectious.

And then you turned back to your friend, shrugging a little as the dream began to dissipate. Your body even sagged a little, like a deflated balloon. “I guess that’s what I’d wish for. If it could come true and actually make me happy.” But you knew it could never come true, and would never come true.

Not unless some magical fairy godmother or genie or wish-granting troll was listening.

--

The fastest way home to your cramped apartment cut through a patch of woods. A scraggly little remnant of the forest that used to be in the area before it was cut down to make room for apartment blocks and abandoned shopping malls. You liked it, and so the teenagers in your area, who often used it for smoking.

That fact is why you didn’t feel particularly unnerved when you got the sense that somebody else was walking in the woods. When you heard footsteps crunching leaves and branches underneath from behind you.

“Would the house be Edwardian or Victorian era? Or perhaps you’re looking for something even older? I do warn you, the staircases can be deadly.”

It took you a few moments to understand what was just said and it made you turn around fast, a feeling of irritation and anxiety washing over you. It was the stranger from the cafe who was staring at you. He was still wearing a smile, but it was confident rather than sheepish, and something about that raised red flags in your mind.

“You were eavesdropping,” is what you finally said, when words eventually come to your mind. “At the cafe.”

The man shrugged and didn’t look very apologetic. “It’s in my line of work. Now, about that house?”

You crossed your arms over your chest. Your pepper spray was at home, exactly where it didn’t do you any good. You weren’t a great runner, but if you needed to, you thought you could run fast enough to get out of the woods in case he tried something. What else would a stranger following you into this remote area want?

“I want you to leave.” You stood your ground. You hoped you looked like a threat. Or like too much trouble to deal with.

“I thought you wanted the perfect life you dreamed of as a child?” He said, and there was something wistful in his tone that made you want to listen to him. It was something you couldn’t exactly shake, and you didn’t know why. Like he was an old friend. Someone who would listen to you and not mock you. Someone who cared.

You shook your head. You didn’t know this man. What were you thinking?

“There’s no such thing.” You took a step away as you said it, hoping to edge far enough that you could leap into a sprint when the time was right. “Like I told my friend, which you should know since you were eavesdropping, there’s no guarantee I would ever be happy even if I got what I wanted.”

The man spread his arms out wide, and smiled so kindly that you got the impression he knew exactly what you wanted as a child and what you want now and that he wasn’t judging you. Someone else might click their tongue and shake their head at your childish dream, still there in your mind even though you knew it would never come true. But not him.

“I can give you that life. Everything would be perfect. You would be so happy.” And then his smile turned sympathetic. “I can even bring back your parents, too. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Your mom and dad were dead. Buried. Bones, dust, by now. You visited their grave less and less as the years go on, but the pain never stopped.

“You’re sick.” You turned, thinking to leave. But when you did he was suddenly there in front of you. Like he appeared out of thin air. And now you were scared and not just annoyed and not just hurt.

“What the hell?” There was a lump in your throat and your heart pounded fast. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

He pursed his lips. “Manners, please.” And It was then that you noticed the mist surrounding you. When did it get so foggy? It wasn’t even that late in the day. Not the proper time for mist at all. But there was, and there you were. And you had the sinking feeling that nothing would ever be the same.

“Now,” he continued, a smile back on his lips. It scared you, how kind that smiled looked.

“Let’s discuss the finer points of your wish, my dear…”